THE
MAN OF PLEASURE'S
POCKET-BOOK:
OR, THE
Bon Vivant's Vade Mecum,
FOR THE YEAR 1780.

BEING

The UNIVERSAL COMPANION in every LINE of
TASTE, GALLANTRY, and HAUT TON.

Containing Fifty-two double ruled Pages for Accounts, Bills due, Appointments, occasional Memorandums, the usual Tables, and the following original Articles, viz.

I. An Account of all public Diversions, in and about the Metropolis, with the Terms of Admission, the Nature of their Amusements, and the Etiquette to be observed at each respective Place.

II. The Fashions of the different Seasons, in full Drefs, Deshabille, walking and riding, in public and private.

III. The most elegant Amusements in Vogue in the Metropolis and its Environs.

IV. A general System of Politenefs for Country Gentlemen, or those who have too strictly purfued a collegiate Life, that they may, almost instantaneously, acquit themselves with the most graceful Eafe and poſhſhed Elegance.

V. The Art of Pleasing in Conversation.

VI. A Lift of the most superb and diſtinguified Hotels, Bagnios, &c. for the Accommodation of Gentlemen, Travellers, &c. with the Terms of Admittance, and the Expences neceſſarily incurred at each respective Place.

VII. The Scale of Beauty, or annual Register of Toads upon the haut, milieu, and petit Tons; with their various Gradations of Beauty, Grace, and Elegance.

VIII. A Dictionary for the polite World, or the Savoir-Vivre Vocabulary, in which all the modern Words and Phrases uſed in refined Life are explained.

By a MEMBER of the CLUB of Savoir-Vivres.

LONDON:

Printed for S. BLADON, No. 13, PATERNOSTER ROW.

[To be continued annually.]

CONTENTS.

<table><tbody><tr><td>INTRODUCTION</td><td>3</td></tr><tr><td>Polite Errors corrected</td><td>7</td></tr><tr><td>Lift of Bankers</td><td>9</td></tr><tr><td>The precent Royal Family of Great Britain</td><td>10</td></tr><tr><td>Rates of Hackney Coachmen</td><td>11</td></tr><tr><td>Fifty-two double ruled Pages for keeping Accounts, &amp;c.</td><td>12</td></tr><tr><td>Pay of the Officers of the Royal Navy in each Rate</td><td>119</td></tr><tr><td>The Scale of Beauty</td><td>120</td></tr><tr><td>An Account of all public Diversions</td><td>121</td></tr><tr><td>Deferision of the moſt remarkable Hotels, &amp;c.</td><td>130</td></tr><tr><td>The moſt polite Amusements in Vogue</td><td>133</td></tr><tr><td>On Drefs</td><td>134</td></tr><tr><td>A general System of Politenefs</td><td>136</td></tr><tr><td>A Portrait of a real Man of Pleasure</td><td>140</td></tr><tr><td>The Art of pleafing in Converfation</td><td>143</td></tr><tr><td>A Dictionary for the Bon Ton</td><td>146</td></tr><tr><td>Alphabetical Liff of the House of Peers</td><td>155</td></tr><tr><td>Ditto of the House of Commons</td><td>157</td></tr><tr><td>Days and Hours for buying or selling clock</td><td>169</td></tr><tr><td>Daily Pay of the Britiſh Land Forces</td><td>170</td></tr><tr><td>Rules of Practice for the speedy caſing up any Sort of Goods, &amp;c.</td><td>171</td></tr><tr><td>Table of Wages or Expences</td><td>172</td></tr><tr><td>Ditto of Simple Interest</td><td>173</td></tr><tr><td>Annuitant's Intereft Table</td><td>174</td></tr><tr><td>A Table ſhowing the Increase and Decrease of Day and Night</td><td>175</td></tr><tr><td>The Bearings, &amp;c. of Places from London</td><td>176</td></tr></tbody></table>

ERRATUM.

Page 124, line 6, for one hundred, read three hundred.

Yale
Lewis Walpoie

INTRODUCTION.

LONG has a Pocket-Book upon this plan been wifhed for, not only by the polite world, but by gentlemen estranged from the capital, either in puruit of a country or a collegiate life. Every gentleman of property has not had opportunities of viſiting courts, figuring in drawing-rooms, and affiſing at polite routs, tho' he might ſoon appear with eclat in all : he would, however, be confidered as a ruffic, and meet with the ſneers of petits maitres, whose whole life has been devoted to the ſtudy of ſaſhions, if he were not to make himſelf acquainted with the ceremony and etiquette which ſhould be obſerved in each reſpective ſ Assembly. To this end a work ſimilar to the preſent appeared of great utility to perſons in that predicament, and may be confidered, in this point of view, as the Sir Clement Cottrel to all polite company.

The editor will, perhaps, be told, that lord Cheſterfield in his Letters to his Son, has anticipated every production that can be written upon POLITENESS: but this is a miſtake, as the reader will perceive, by the variety of inſtructions upon this head, which are far more important than ſeveral of his lordship's, and which that nobleman has not ſo much as hinted at; though he has defcended to many minutiæ, entirely ſuperfluous, as they muſt have occurred to every boy of common ſenſe before he quitted ſchool. In a word, we think this part of our work will ſoon convert a mere country ſquire into a real fine gentleman; and the collegiate, long immured in cobweb walls at Oxford, into a beau garçon, and enable them to acquit themselves with eafe and elegance in the moſt brilliant circles.

The art of pleafing in converſation, ſeems to be the next object that ſhould be wifhed for by a man of the world: and in this department of our work, the moſt accomplished

A 2

Ma-

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Macaroni will meet with many observations that probably never occurred to him; and though he might enter a drawing-room with all the addrefs of a master of the ceremonies, and even comport himself at table in such a manner, as to put Mr. Stanhope to the blunh*; yet after the cloth was withdrawn, he might make a very disagreeable, and even ridiculous figure, for not having properly studied the art of pleasing. This part of our performance, is not only completely original, but contains such instructions as cannot fail being useful to every person, of whatever rank, who propotes making himself agreeable in society.

A descriptive account of all public diversions was a subject that every man of pleasure has long lamented had never been published, being a very essential object to the frequenters of polite amusements. In the subjoined survey, not only the terms of admiffion, the nature of the entertainment, and the etiquette to be observed at each respective place, are laid down from observation and experience, by a gentleman who has long frequented them; but the kind of drefs proper to be worn on each occasion is peculiarly described. Add to this, that the article is rendered at once instructive and entertaining, by an historical retrospect of many of the diversions.

The fashions of the different seasons, in full drefs, defhabille, walking or riding, in public or private, form another object essentially necessary to every gentleman who would appear in fashion in the various departments of general life. Some strictures that are subjoined upon fashions, and the ridicule of *outrê-ing* them, may be of infinite service, if properly adverted to, not only to gentlemen hitherto estranged from the vortex of gaiety, but to those Narziffus, of the age, commonly known by the name of Macaronies, whose whole thoughts are employed in Adonizing and admiring themselves, and think that carrying fashion beyond the limits of common sense, in making themselves conspicuously ridiculous, they become the phenomena of taste and elegance.

* See p. 138.

The

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The most admired amusements in vogue, such as cards, hazard, &c. &c. with some useful hints to gentlemen who play in public or private, comprise at once entertaining and useful knowledge; and are particularly calculated for country and other gentlemen, who are not upon their guard against the artifices of dignified gamblers, and beautiful sharpers.

The account of the most superb *Hotels, Bagnios, &c. &c.* for the accommodation of gentlemen travellers, with the terms of admittance, and the expences neceffarily incurred at each respective place of accommodation, would afford an useful information to strangers, that they might avoid being impofed upon; even if it was not accompanied with some ftrictions respecting certain houfes of recreation, that are depicted in their proper colours.

The scale of Beauties, or most celebrated Toasts for the current year, will enable any person, not particularly acquainted with those ladies, to form an opinion of their respective claims to captivate, and enable him to give a toast in company, which will do honour to his election. As we have placed the duchefs of Devonshire at the head of the lift of thefe enchantresses, we thought we should do ourfelves honour, in giving a whole length of her grace, full dressed, in our Frontispiece, taken from a portrait drawn by an eminent male, and which is engraved by a celebrated artist. - Suv. p. 120.

We judged it incumbent on us, from the title of this book, to give the character of a real Man of Pleasure in polite life; and as lord Chefterfield's fentiments upon this subject were entirely congenial with our own, this article is partly borrowed from his lordship's ideas upon pleasure. The ftrictions we have made upon this nobleman's portrait, will, we flatter ourfelves, be thought pertinent, as well as illustrative of the work, intitled Letters to his Son.

It was fuggested by a gentleman of the *Savoir-Vivre Club*, that this work would not be complete without the

Dicti-

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Dictionary that is introduced, by which all the modern fashionable words and expressions are explained. This Vocabulary has been handed about in manuscript, and received the approbation of the most celebrated Dilettanti and Connoissenti in the kingdom, who have pronounced it highly deferring the function of the polite world, and all candidates for elegance and propriety.

We cannot dismifs this Introduction without taking notice, that amongst a variety of other articles neceffary in such a production, we have introduced Lifts of both Houfes of Parliament, corrected to the time of this production going to prefs.

From the favourable opinion this Pocket-Book has received from several gentlemen of tafe, fancy, literature, knowledge, wit, humour, and pleafantry, to whom the plan has been ſhewn, we are flattered that the public in general will not fail ratifying their decifion, and place this work, at leaſt, upon a par with others, that have not even novelty to recommend them.

POLITE

POLITE ERRORS CORRECTED.

THERE are few young men of fortune who start upon the town, but aim at being what is called clever. This ignis fatuus has miffed at leaſt half the gay fellows who flutter in the polite circles. They generally form their ideas of cleverneſs according to some ſtandard that is held up to them by the general voice of thofe like themſelves; and the follies, vices, and abfurdities of this ſtandard, are confidered as ornaments in his character. This criterion they cloſely imitate, and in proportion as they arrive at excellence, they attain ſo high a degree in the ſcale of being ridiculous. A man thus eſtablilſhed as an example upon the ton, probably brags of more vices than he was ever able to commit : his intrigues are multifarious; his nocturnal debauches inceſſant; his loſſes at the hazard table would ruin the Exchequer—but then he is a damned clever fellow, quite the ton, and every thing he afferts muſt be credited.

Such a model cannot fail producing copies truly admirable. But to be ſerious, young men are ambitious of a thouſand things they are afterwards too ſenſibly afhamed of; and, probably, have reaſon to laMENT their follies, when it is too late to remedy the misfortunes they have created. Have we not many striking examples of men of the moſt exalted talents, who have been the dupes to their paffions and their phrenzies ? Need we mention any others than a F—x and a W—kes, men of uncommon abilities and learning, who have reduced themſelves to a ſtate of beggary, in the purſuit of fashionable vices,

It is a misfortune much to be lamented, that a falſe ambition naturally prompts us to be vain of thofe imaginary talents which we do not poſſeſs, whiſt thofe which we are really endowed with, and are far ſuperior to the others, remain neglected, or uncultivated : thus have I known a great ſtateſman, a man of learning, an orator, and an ornament to legiſlation, bewildered by a ridiculous paffion for horſe racing, cocking, tennis, and dice. No rational perſon will deny, that the late lord Cheſterfield poſſeſed all the brilliant qualities we first mentioned; nor will his moſt partial admirers pretend to aſſert that he was not a dupe to ſharpers, and all their artifices.

There are, however, other fashionable errors, besides gaming, by which a man who aims at tafe, may be ruined. It is the ton to keep an opera girl, who deſpites you, and laughs at the whole English nation, for lavifhing treaſures upon talents, which in any other country would scarce procure a livelihood. It is ſaid of Gabrielli, that the would

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would not afford her company for two hours at a less rate than a hundred guineas; and that even in this short interval, and at that price, she would frequently chuse to be taken ill, and not grant so much as the favour of a long.

Race-horves and hunters, as well as dogs, constitute at least one fathionable error. A certain nobleman, whose estate has been for some time at nurfe, has kept a large fable of hunters, and a pack of hounds, at an amazing expence, and never crofled a horfe in his life—

*Mais, c'est le ton !*—Oh! it certainly is the ton!

Again: I have been well informed, that several impotent and debilitated noblemen keep mistreffes in different parts of the town, and avoid any secret of their being the supporters of the ladies in question, merely for the honour of being fuppofed men of intrigue. Nay, they go farther, they wink at their connexions with their *petticoat-penfioners*, who enjoy the emoluments of their pin-money, in hopes that their lordships may have the honour of being reputed fathers.

There are more venial vices, though very fashionable, which deferve fevere reprehension. Taking snuff, in itself, is very pernicious to health, but is often affected to display a handsome snuff-box, or a brilliant ring. The coxcomb here is easily detected; but what man of taſte can be without an elegant snuff-box?

Snuff naturally leads us to perfumes. We shall only say upon this subject, that as a patch upon a woman always implies a pimple; to perfume on a man constantly indicates a flinking breath, or something worfe.

The modern paffion for duelling was unknown amongst the Greeks and Romans, and yet their courage will certainly not be called in question. It was introduced by the Germans, and soon adopted by the French, who giving a fanition to all fashions, however ridiculous or barbarous, has been copied by us: they have, however, refined upon this eſtyle, and as they uſually fight with fwords, repair any flurcraft upon their honour by only drawing blood; but not satisfied with this atonement for any real or imaginary injury, we have recourse to firearms, which often prove fatal; and a man on a trifling punſilio loses his life, which might, leſs exposed, have been serviceable to his country.

LIST

LIST OF BANKERS.

ARCHER, Bydes, Maude, Watts and Co. No. 2, White horſe-yard, Lombard-street.

Aſſil (Sir C.) Nightingale, Wickenden and Nightingale, No. 70, ditto.

Barclay, Bevan and Benning, No. 56, ditto.

Bation, Stevenſon and Hoggart, No. 69, ditto.

Biddulph, Cocks, Elliot and Praed, New-buildings, Charing-croſs.

Bland, Barnett and Hoare, No. 62, Lombard-street

Boldero, Kendall, Adey and Kendall, No. 77, ditto.

Boldero, Carter, Barneſtone, Snaith and Carter, No. 5, oppoſite Manſion h.

Browns, Collinſon and Tritton, No. 58, Lombard-street.

Bull (John) and Co. No. 59, Bartholomew-lane.

Caſſell, Whately and Powell, No. 66, Lombard-street.

Chambers, Franks, Hercy and Birch, New Bond-street,

Child (Robert) and Co. No. 1, Fleet-street.

Coutts (James and Thomas) New Exchange, near the Adelphi, Strand

Croft, Backwell, Roberts and Croft, at the Graſhopper, Pall-mall

Dimſdall and Watts, No. 50, Cornhill.

Donne (W. & Cornel.) W. Sanby & Rob. Snow, without Temp. bar.

Dorrien, Ruckers, Dorrien and Martin, No. 22, Finch-lane.

Drummond (Robert.) and Co. Charing-croſs.

Fuller, Halford and Vaughan, No. 20, Birchen-lane.

Fuller, Son, and Co. No. 24, Lombard-street.

Gines and Atkinson, No. 50 Lombard-street.

Goffling, Clive and Goffling, No. 19, Fleet-street.

Halliday, Duntz, Praed and Co. No. 3, Freeman's-court.

Hallifax (Sir Tho.) Mills, Glynn, Mills & Mitton, No. 18, Birchin-l.

Hanbury, Taylor, Lloyd and Bowman, No. 14, Lombard-street.

Hankey (Tho.) J. Chap. and Co. No. 7, Fenchurch-street.

Herries, Robert and Co. St. James's-street.

Hoare, Henry, Richard, Richard and Henry, No. 37, Fleet-street.

Hodſoll (Edw.) and Mitchell, near Catherine-street, Strand.

Ladbroke, Rawlinſon and Porker, No. 73, Bank-buildings.

Langſtone, Pollhill, Tow good & Amory, No. 29, Clement's lane, Lom.ſt.

Lee, Ayton, Braſſey and Eaton, No. 71, Lombard-street.

Lemon, Euſer, Furly, Lubbock and Co. No. 11, Manſion-houſe-ſt.

London Exchange Banking Company, St. James's-street.

Martin, Stone, Backwell and Co. No. 68, Lombard-street.

Marlar, Pell and Down, No. 10, ditto.

Mafon, Currie, James and Yallowley, No. 29, Cornhill.

Mayne (Robert) and Co. Jermyn-street.

Prefcotts, Groſe, Culverdine & Hollingsworth, No. 57, Threadneedle-st.

Pybus, Byde, Darſett and Cockle, No. 148, New Bond-street.

Raymond (Sir Charles) Manſion-houſe-street.

Reade, Moorhouse, Willis and Co. No. 76, Lombard-street.

Smith, Payne, Barclay and Smith, No. 18, ditto.

Smith, Wright and Gray, No. 55, Lombard-street.

Vere, Lowe and Co. No. 20, Birchin-lane.

Walpole, Clark and Bourne, No. 28, Lombard-street.

Welch, Rogers and Co. No. 83, Cornhill.

Wickenden, Moſſat, Kenſington and Boler, No. 20, Lombard-street.

Wright (Anthony) Golden Cup, Hnrietta street, Covent-garden.

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The present ROYAL FAMILY of GREAT BRITAIN.

GEOLGE III. eldest son of Frederick, late prince of Wales, was born June 4, 1758; created prince of Wales, April 20, 1752; succeeded his grandfather October 25, 1760; proclaimed the next day; married CHARLOTTE SOPHIA, a princess of Mecklenburg Strelitz, on September 8, 1761, who was born May, 19, 1744; and both were crowned Sept. 22, 1761.

Their Majesties' Issue.

1. George prince of Wales, born August 12, 1762.

2. Frederick, born August 16, 1763.

3. William Henry, born August 21, 1765.

4. Charlotte Augusta Matilda, born Sept. 29, 1766.

5. Edward, born November 2, 1767.

6. Sophia Augusta, born November 8, 1768.

7. Elizabeth, born May 22, 1770.

8. Ernulf Augustus, born June 5, 1771.

9. Augustus Frederick, born January 27, 1773.

10. Adolphus Frederick, born February 24, 1774.

11. Mary, born April 25, 1776.

12. Sophia, born November 3, 1777.

13. Octavius, born Feb. 23, 1779.

Brothers and Sisters to his Majesty.

1. Prince's Augusta, born August 11, 1737; married the prince of Brunswick Lunenburg, January 16, 1764.

2. Prince William Henry, duke of Gloucester, born November 25, 1743; married the countess dowager of Waldegrave, by whom he has one daughter living, named Sophia Matilda, born May 29, 1773; and a son, named William Frederick, born at Rome, January 15, 1776.

3. Prince Henry Frederick, duke of Cumberland, born November 7, 1745; married October 1771, the widow of Christopher Horton, Esq; a daughter of Simon Luttrell, lord Irnham.

The only remaining issue of George II. by queen Caroline, is princess Amelia Sophia, born June 10, 1711.

RATES

RATES of HACKNEY COACH MEN.

<table><thead><tr><th></th><th>s. d.</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>FOR one day of twelve hours</td><td>12 0</td></tr><tr><td>For one hour</td><td>1 6</td></tr><tr><td>For every hour after the first</td><td>1 0</td></tr><tr><td>From any of the Inns of Court to any part of St. James's, or Westminister, except beyond Tothill-street</td><td>1 0</td></tr><tr><td>From the Inns of Court to the Royal Exchange</td><td>1 0</td></tr><tr><td>From the Inns of Court to the Tower, Aldgate, Bishopsgate, &c.</td><td>1 6</td></tr><tr><td>For any distance not exceeding one mile and a half</td><td>1 0</td></tr><tr><td>For any distance not exceeding two miles</td><td>1 6</td></tr></tbody></table>

One Shilling Rates.

From Westminister-hall to Marlborough-street, B'oomsbury-square, Soho-square. St. James's-gate to Queen-square, Westminister, to the nearest corner of Red-lion square. The Hay-market play-houfe to Queen square, Westminister, to Bloomsbury-square. Golden-square to Red-lion square. Gray's-inn-gate to Sadler's-wells, Ilington. Co-vent-garden to Clerkenwell church. The Royal Exchange to Hoxton-square. Temple-bar to Billingsgate. Aldgate to Shadwell church.

Eighteen pence Rates.

From Drury-lane play-houfe to Queen-square, Westminister. Westminister-hall to St. Paul's. Westminister-hall to Queen square, to Red-lion-fields. St. James's to Marybone church. The Royal Exchange to the Watch-houfe, Mile-end. The outside of Aldgate to Stepney church. Bedford-street, Covent-garden, to Coleman street. Bread-street to Hoxton-square. St. Martin's lane to Gold-street, Wood street. The middle of Grace-church-street to Somerset-houfe. Guildhall to Brownlow-street, Drury-lane. The Royal Exchange to Newington church, Surry-Mansfield-houfe to Charing-crofs. Aldgate to Radcliffe crofs.

The Licensing office for Hackney coaches is in Great Queen-street, Lincoln's-inn-fields, where all complaints must be made. One thousand hackney coaches are licensed.

Hackney coachmen may be compelled to carry a fare to any of the new squares, buildings, and streets within the parishes of St. Mary le Bon, St. George the Martyr, St. George, Hanover-square, Queen-square, St. George, Bloomsbury, within the county of Middlesex, and all the several burying grounds within five miles of the cities of London or Westminister, or the above-mentioned parishes.

RATES of HACKNEY CHAIRMEN.

One Shilling Rates.

FROM Westminister to Covent garden. Westminister to Exeter-change. St. James's-gate through the Park to Westminister-hall. The Hay-market play-houfe to the entrance of Lincoln's-inn-fields, to Bolton-street, to Soho square. St. James's gate to Somerset-houfe. Somerset-houfe to the upper end of Hatton street. The nearest corner of Golden-square to Drury-lane play-houfe.

Eighteen-pence Rates.

From Westminister-hall to Marlborough-street, to Soho-square, to Bolton-street, to Temple-bar. St. James's gate to Queen-square, Westminister. Golden-square to Red-lion square. Red-lion-square to the Hay-market play-houfe. Queen-square to ditto. The Hay-market play-houfe to Bloomsbury-square, to Gray's inn.

The hackney chairmen are obliged to go one mile for one shilling, and one mile and a half for eighteen-pence.

N. B. A shilling coach fare is an eighteen-penny chair fare.

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The SCALE of BEAUTY,
OR,

A LIST of the most celebrated Toasts of the Year 1780, with their various Gradations of Beauty, Grace, and Elegance.

N. B. The highest Degree in each Scale does not exceed Fifty.

<table><thead><tr><th></th><th>Bea.</th><th>Grn.</th><th>Elg.</th><th></th><th>Bea.</th><th>Grn.</th><th>Elg.</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>The duchefs of Devonshire</td><td>42</td><td>46</td><td>45</td><td>Mrs. Bulkley</td><td>34</td><td>19</td><td>16</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Beauchamp Proctor</td><td>41</td><td>23</td><td>24</td><td>Mifs Cateley</td><td>36</td><td>17</td><td>15</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Broughton</td><td>46</td><td>26</td><td>25</td><td>Mrs. Crawford</td><td>33</td><td>34</td><td>30</td></tr><tr><td>Mifs Wynyard</td><td>—</td><td>—</td><td>—</td><td>Mrs. Yates</td><td>22</td><td>14</td><td>30</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Melbourne</td><td>45</td><td>27</td><td>24</td><td>Mifs Clara Haywood</td><td>20</td><td>16</td><td>15</td></tr><tr><td>Viscountefs Villiers</td><td>44</td><td>26</td><td>23</td><td>Mifs Nancy Parlons</td><td>21</td><td>14</td><td>12</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Augusta Campbell</td><td>45</td><td>24</td><td>22</td><td>Mifs Lawfon</td><td>18</td><td>13</td><td>11</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Catherine Beaucroft</td><td>47</td><td>23</td><td>21</td><td>Mifs Stanley</td><td>16</td><td>12</td><td>8</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Catherine Fordyce</td><td>46</td><td>24</td><td>22</td><td>Mrs. Armstead</td><td>17</td><td>13</td><td>9</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Jerley</td><td>46</td><td>22</td><td>19</td><td>Mrs. Mahon, or the Bird</td><td>18</td><td>14</td><td>12</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Barrymore</td><td>47</td><td>26</td><td>24</td><td>of Paradife</td><td>3</td><td>—</td><td>—</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Craven</td><td>44</td><td>23</td><td>18</td><td>Mrs. Frederick</td><td>19</td><td>15</td><td>14</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Harrington</td><td>46</td><td>24</td><td>21</td><td>Mifs Carter</td><td>17</td><td>14</td><td>12</td></tr><tr><td>Mifs Halifax</td><td>42</td><td>21</td><td>18</td><td>Mifs Stanley</td><td>16</td><td>13</td><td>9</td></tr><tr><td>Lady D—by</td><td>46</td><td>22</td><td>16</td><td>Mrs. Baker</td><td>12</td><td>14</td><td>13</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Sa ah E—y</td><td>43</td><td>20</td><td>12</td><td>Mifs Martin</td><td>13</td><td>8</td><td>6</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Gto—F</td><td>42</td><td>21</td><td>18</td><td>Mrs. Marshall</td><td>12</td><td>7</td><td>4</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Lig—r</td><td>41</td><td>20</td><td>16</td><td>Mrs. Smith</td><td>10</td><td>6</td><td>5</td></tr><tr><td>Lady Car—then</td><td>44</td><td>36</td><td>36</td><td>Mifs Fithier</td><td>13</td><td>14</td><td>9</td></tr><tr><td>Mrs. Ell—t</td><td>42</td><td>34</td><td>30</td><td>Mifs Hemet</td><td>16</td><td>12</td><td>8</td></tr><tr><td>Mrs. Hartley</td><td>48</td><td>49</td><td>48</td><td>Mifs Armstrong</td><td>15</td><td>9</td><td>6</td></tr><tr><td>Mrs. Robinson</td><td>42</td><td>38</td><td>36</td><td>Mifs Maria Brown</td><td>14</td><td>8</td><td>5</td></tr><tr><td>Mrs. Baddocley</td><td>36</td><td>18</td><td>14</td><td>Mifs Bonwell</td><td>16</td><td>10</td><td>8</td></tr><tr><td>Mifs Wa'pole</td><td>31</td><td>42</td><td>39</td><td>Mifs Williams</td><td>13</td><td>11</td><td>9</td></tr><tr><td>Mifs Farren</td><td>32</td><td>18</td><td>16</td><td>Mrs. Jones</td><td>12</td><td>6</td><td>4</td></tr><tr><td>Mifs Brown</td><td>38</td><td>17</td><td>15</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr></tbody></table>

As we proposed fixing the Standard of Beauty at Fifty, we have limited the Number of Toasts also to Fifty, which we think may serve the Read for a Twelvemonth; but if he should judge it expedient to have a Toast for every Week, he may take Mrs. Brereton and Mifs Young to complete Fifty-two.

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An Account of all PUBLIC DIVERSIONS, in and about the METROPOLIS, with the Terms of Admission, the Nature of the Amusement, and the Etiquette to be observed at each respective Place.

IT has been observed by many judicious persons, that in proportion as arts and sciences advance towards perfection, pleasure and luxury follow close after them. As they are in some meaure appendages of the fine arts, it is not wonderful that they should go nearly hand-in-hand. Poetry, music, and painting, are, as it were, the ground-work of all elegant and rational amusements; and, gradually as these approach to excellence, the sense, the ear, the fight, are more forcibly captivated. Public entertainments of every species, would be dull and infidel without these great and essential auxiliaries. What would an opera be without singing; a ball without music, or a theatre without painting?

We certainly derive the origin of our modern amusements from the Italians. That inventive and vivacious people being nurtured amidst the fine arts, they had all the instruments of pleasure in their own hands. Their language is soft, mellifluous, happily formed for the most harmonious numbers, and their musicians, till lately, have taken the lead of all the world. But the pleasing and delightful effects of these combined arts, soon made their way to France; and though the French language is not so melodious as the Italian, the Gallic poets made great advances to equal the Italians even in their own empire of delight. Their poetry, in other respects, far surpassed the Italian, for where can we find a Corneille or a Racine on the other side of the Alps? They may boast of their Ariocho and their Metaflio; but as dramatic writers can they be compared with the French? certainly not: far less can they pretend to rival our poets in that line, who have surpassed all others. After dramatic music, united with poetry, had made its way into France, it soon passed over here, with other Italian and French refinements and amusements, and found a foil where they were cherished with more than a careful—a generous hand.

I probably shall be told, that our old bards and minrels were of a far more ancient date than Italian operas; but I am speaking of modern amusements and late refinements, and these have been imported from abroad within this last century.

We shall begin with the opera, which is esteemed the politest entertainment in this metropolis. Operas are exhibited at the King's Theatre, as it is called, in the Haymarket. They are serious and comic, and are performed in Italian, for the most part, by calibratos (eunuchs) who represent the men, and Italian females. The price of subscription for the leafon is twenty guineas,

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guineas, for which a ticket is issued, which admits one person each night of their performance. Non-subscribers pay half a guinea for the pit or boxes, which are laid together; five fillings for the first gallery; and three fillings for the second. The scenes and decorations are usually very magnificent, and executed by the most capital artists; and the dancers, both serious and comic, are the best that can be procured in Europe. The dres's for the pit and boxes is either full, or at least French frocks with flowers, and the head uncovered, with a bag. In the first gallery a genteel debabille is expected; but in the upper gallery, as most gentlemen go there incog. no great attention is paid to dres's. Nevertheless, the right hand corner of this gallery from the stage, is preferred by the connoisseurs as the best place in the whole house for hearing the music to advantage. The salaries of the opera fingers are very considerable, and, for the most part, the ladies are not famous for rigid virtue; and they almost as frequently play the female tyrant off the stage as on, and are as capricious as if they were continually prancing the part of a Burletta Heroine.

Besides these dramatic performances at the King's Theatre, here are also masquerades and ridottos. At the first of these every person, male or female, appears masked, either in characteristic dresses, or in dominos. The gentlemen usually wear their masks till supper-time, and then unmask for the remainder of the night. The ladies seldom or ever unmask, unless they are among the number of the Impures. The price of admittance was formerly one guinea, when gaming tables were allowed, such as gold and silver, and afterwards E. O. and a general passion for play often brought together a great concourse of people, who proposed to themselves no other entertainment than gaming. Since then, the gaming tables being abolished, the company is seldom above half the number that used to assemble on these occasions; and the managers have judged it expedient to double the price of admittance.

Ridottos are the amusements of Lent, when the more gentle people appear in full dres's black, but neither masked, or in any characteristic habit. Tea and coffee, with other refreshments, are given; but there is no supper, nor any wine. Dancing of various kinds, such as minuets, cotillons, allemands, and country dances, continue till morning. Few persons but of fashion appear here, and of course the ladies of easy virtue are excluded. The price of admittance is one guinea.

From the opera-house the transition is easy to the playhouses, of which there are two in winter and one in summer. We shall not here enter into the merits of the different performers, the fame of those who are capital having reached almost every part of the world; and those who are of an inferior rank, by their country

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emigrations, have made themselves pretty well known in most parts of the kingdom. The dres's for the lower boxes should be at least what is called half-dres's, hair or wig dressed, chapeau bas. To see a man with his hat on in the front or side-boxes, be'speaks him ill-bred, and that he is quite ignorant of the ton. As to the other parts of the houses, every one dres's as he pleases. The prices of admittance are five fillings the boxes, three fillings the pit, two fillings the first gallery, upper gallery one filling.

Here are also in Lent oratorios performed. Formerly they used to be exhibited at both the winter theatres: but the managers finding they did not answer, they have for some occasions been confined only to one house, which has been Drury-lane, where the admittance is at opera prices. Some have also been performed at the theatre in the Haymarket at the usual theatre prices.

This kind of entertainment was originally introduced by the celebrated Handel. The hint was taken from the Concerts Spirituels exhibited in Paris during Lent; but they were greatly improved upon, and rendered the most solemn musical entertainments ever exhibited, as they were chiefly upon sacred subjects; and the airs and choruses are happily adapted to the words. Dr. Arne, who was certainly, as a composer, next in rank to Handel, also produced several oratorios, which met with great applause; but it must be acknowledged by his greatest admirers, that he never could equal Handel in his choruses, which certainly surpals every thing of the kind that ever was attempted. Other imitators have succeeded Dr. Arne in composing oratorios, some of which have also considerable merit; but when compared to the great original, they make us lament the loss of so sublime a genius.

We shall only add, that the fame of fort of dres's prevails at an oratorio as at an opera; the pit and boxes demand full, or at least half dres's; and the first gallery, a genteel debabille.

Mr. Colman's theatre in the Haymarket is usually opened the 15th of May, and clofed in the middle of September; but latterly the winter theatres having continued open much later than usual, and as most of his performers are engaged at one or other of the houses for the season, he has been obliged to postpone the opening of his theatre till the beginning of June. In imitation of his predecessor Mr. Foote, he aims at diverting the town with light productions of the farcical kind, which usually pourtray some remarkable characters in real life, whose follies, or fferences, have made them conspicuous. How far a poet or an author is defensible in bringing upon the stage individuals, in order to hold them up to the ridicule of the town, we will not pretend to determine; but there is a disposition so prevalent in mankind to

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laugh, even at their friends, that these caricatures invariably
pleafe; and it was owing to this natural depravity of taſte that
Foote acquired so much reputation.

There are belonging to the theatres of Drury Lane and Co-
vent-garden, what are called renters ſhares. The price of
them was originally one hundred pounds: but their value now
differ according to the number of years they have to run.
These ſhares entitle the proprietor to a place in any part of
the house every night of representation, oratorios included, and almo
two ſhillings each night. To a gentleman fond of dramatic ex-
hibitions, this certainly is a very œconomical plan of being a-
mused, as profit and pleafure go hand-in-hand.

Being in the vicinity of the Strand, the Patagonian theatre,
over Exeter Change, will naturally preſent itſelf to our view.
This performance is of a ſingular kind, and affords much mirth
and entertainment. It is performed by puppets about eight
inches in height, drefſed according to the Ten, or characteriſtically,
MIDAS, and ſeveral other burleſque pieces, have been perform-
ed here with great ſuccesſs; for beſides the ſymetry of the wooden
aſtors, and the dexterity of their motions, the ſpeakers and
fingers behind the ſcene do infinite justice to the reſpeltive parts.
Several of the capital aſtors and fingers at the playhouſes are oc-
fationally taken off, as well as many ridiculous characters con-
ſpicious in high life. The ſcenery and decorations are finely
executed, and well adapted to the general deſign. The orchestra
is compoſed of a good band of muſic, and do credit to Mr. Ellis's
judgment in quality of manager, as do the figures and ſcenery
to his ſkill in mechanics, and his taſte in painting. The prices
of admittance are boxes 4s. pit 3s. gallery 2s. This entertain-
ment is frequented by perſons of the ſift rank, therefore it
would be neeſſaſs to add that a genteel undrefs is always obler-
vable in the boxes and pit.

The Fantoccini is nearly of the fame nature as the foregoing;
but as it has lately fallen off, we ſhall not dwell upon it.

Breſlaw's entertainments in Cockspur-street, near the Hay-
market, conſift of vocal and instrumental muſic (the vocal parts
by Italian fingers) and interludes of legerdemain. The price of
admittance is half a crown.

We think we have ſaid enough concerning the opera, the play-
houſe, &c. to give a general idea of the manner of their being
conduſted, and the etiquette requisite to be obſerved, at the diſ-
ferent kinds of amuſements exhibited in them. We ſhall there-
fore now accompany the reader to Ranelagh, as the moſt elegant
as well as original public place of the kind about town.

Ranelagh gardens are situated at Chelſea, very beautifully
laid out, and being contiguous to the river Thames, are ex-
tremely pleafant; but the chief object in these gardens is an ele-
gant

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gant and ſpacious rotunda, which will contain many thousands
of perſons. This building was planned and carried into execu-
tion by the late Mr. Lacey, previous to his being joint patentee
of Drury-lane theatre with Mr. Garrick. It was built by sub-
ſcription, and coſt a very conſiderable ſum. A variety of diver-
fions have been exhibited here at times; ſuch as public break-
faſtings, jubilee mafquerades, &c. At one of the latter it
was that a certain (nominal) duchéſs, then a maid of honour,
appeared in the character of Iphigenia, in which he diſplayed
ſo many of her charms, as to put to the bluſh that who were
not maids of honour, but even profefled demi-reps.

At preſent the only diversion this delightful ſpot affords, is
an evening concert, vocal and instrumental, which is performed
by a very good band of musicians. The price of admittance is
half a crown, for which you have tea and coffee. This place
is refortèd to by the first nobility and gentry, whilst they remain
in town; and it therefore usually opens on Eafter Monday, and
does not continue a public ſtylem much after the beginning of
July. Few gentlemen go full drefſed, but a half drefs is expeſt-
eſt, and it is not confidered as polite for any one to appear in
boots.

The trip is natural from Ranelagh to Vauxhall, which is
on the other ſide of the water, about a mile from Westminſter-
bridge. This, perhaps, is one of the moſt delightful ſpots in
Europe; as the late Mr. Tyers, who was the proprietor, ſpared
Europe; as the late Mr. Tyers, who was the proprietor, ſpared
no pains to bring it to its preſent ſtate of perſection. It con-
ſiſts of a large garden, with many walks; a great variety of
paintings; ſome deceptions; and ſeveral humorous pieces
by Hayman, in the boxes, taken from the Merry Wives of
Windfor, and other plays. There is a large faloon, called little
Windfor, and other plays. There is a large faloon, called little
Ranelagh, in which the muſic is performed, on rainy nights.
There are ſome fine ſtatures, and beautiful paintings upon hiftori-
cal ſubjects, in honour of our naval and military heroes. Here is
alfo an orCHEſtra, and it is at night illuminated with chandeliers
in the Chineſſe ſtyle. In the garden is another orCHEſtra construſt-
ed with great taſte; and at ſome diſtance, an artificial cascade,
which is played off every night, has a very pleafing effect. The
price of admittance is only one ſhillling; but whatever ſeſſu-
ments are called for are paid beſides. Parties are frequently
made from Ranelagh in order to ſup, and upon these occafions
made from Ranelagh in order to ſup, and upon these occafions
French-horns commonly play, after the muſic is over, till
morning. This cuſtom, however, does not ſo often take place
as formerly. As this is an open garden, though there is an awn-
ing over moſt of the capital walks near the OrCHEſtra, every
gentleman wears his hat, and of courſe never comes here full
dreſt. Vauxhall generally opens about the beginning of May if
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the weather permits, and continues open till the beginning of September.

As we are now upon the subject of summer amusements, we shall take a trip to Sadler's-Wells. This place, which was originally planned by Mr. Rofamon, has undergone many improvements, and is now a very polite place of resort, as it affords much entertainment and amusement. It is under the direction of Mr. King, the actor, who spares no expence or attention to render it worthy the patronage of the public. The usual entertainments at present conift in surpris-ing feats of tumbling, rope, and wire dancing; interludes of finging, dancing, and pantomimes; accompanied with beautiful scenes and machinery, by the greatest mafters. Its convenient distance from town, being about half way between London and Ilflington, renders it an agreeable retreat, either with or without a carriage. The prices of admittance are three shillings for the boxes, two shillings the pit, and eighteen pence the gallery; in the two firft situations you are entitled to a pint of wine or punch for your admittance money. No particular rule of drefs is obferved; but that part of the audience that occupy the boxes, always make a very genteel appearance, and few gentlemen appear here with their hats on.

In this neighbourhood is a very rural and genteel retreat for breakfasting or tea drinking: this is New Tunbridge-Wells. It is celebrated for the virtues of its chalybeate spring, and is much frequented in a morning by the nobility and gentry, who refort hither for the benefit of the waters. Subscribers pay one guinea a season for the life of them, non-subscribers fixpence each time; breakfast and tea drinking in the afternoon the fame. The walks are prettily laid out, and befides a large ball, there is a neat coffee-room, for the accommodation of the company. In this rural retreat no particular drefs is required; but the frequenters of it all make a very genteel appearance.

From this pleafant spot, we have only to cros a field to reach Bagnigge-Wells, a very agreeable place, where art has almost been exhufted to render a mere bog and moras as delightful a coup d'oeil as can well be imagined. Here are chalybeate and purgative waters, which are much in eſteem, and drank by great numbers, who repair hither in a morning during the spring and summer. It is alfo frequented by many as a rural coffee-houſe, there being a room of considerable length fitted up with great taſte, and at a large expence, where the morning news-papers are taken in for the accommodation of the company: even ladies come here on account of this convenience, which is not to be met with any where else about town. In the evening a performer on the organ attends to divert the company, which are frequently very numerous; and then ladies of all complexions and dispositions may here be met

met with. On a Sunday evening in summer, the throng is usually so great, that it is ſcarce poffible to get a feat, or any refreshment, though wines, and all forts of liquors, as well as tea and coffee, are fold here.

We ſhould, perhaps, in point of priority of date, have viſited White Conduit-houſe before Bagnigge. This very agreeable place is feated at the back of Ilflington, about a mile from town, and is alſo much frequented, though there are no waters either chalybeate or purgative to recommend it; but then if good tea and nice cream, a pleafant extenſive garden, and elegant rooms, have any attraſtions, it is not to be wondered that it ſhould be long have been favoured by the public. This was the firſt institution of the kind in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, and has given the hint to many perſons, who have followed the original proprietor's example. Here is alſo an organ, and muſic occasionally; and there have likewife been ſome regular morning concerts.

Having made this little tour round Ilflington, we ſhall now return to town, and fee what is going on in the capital. Coming thro' Soho-square, Carlile-houſe neceſſarily attraſts our curioſity. About a dozen years ſince Mrs. Cornelys, a lady of uncommon taſte in public diversions and exhibitions, engaged to give the polite world balls and maſquerades at this houſe, which was fitted up and enlarged at a great expence, and in a moſt ſuperb manner. The uncommon ſuccesſs ſhe at firſt met with, induced her to extend her plan, and improve upon her original deſign. In a word, ſhe ſpared neither pains nor money to render Carlile-houſe one of the moſt ſuperb and enchanting places in the capital. The encouragement the met with for a considerable time, ſurpaſſed her moſt languine expectations—but there is a fashion in every thing, and a rival flarting up in the Pantheon, ſhe found herſelf involved in debt, and was at length compelled to reſign her ſuperintendency of the amuſements at this place. It has ſince been opened, and many maſquerades have been given in a variety of taſtes; but it has not ſucceeded ſo well as was expeſted. The usual price of admittance is two guineas; for which, befides muſic and dancing, there is a good ſupper, and plenty of all forts of wines. Upon the occafions dominoes are generally the moſt prevalent drefſes: indeed to go in a characteriſtic habit, requires wit and humour to ſupport it, and a pleaſure becomes alabour before morning; and yet when there are ſcarce aught but dominoes, all the conceit of the night conſifting in, "I know you—Do you know me?" A maſquerade becomes a very inſipid entertainment, and does not repay the expence and the loſs of reſt. It has been noticed before, that at the time there was play at the Haymarket maſquerades, they were much more frequented than they have been ſince,

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since, as that bewitching passion gaming will prevail, and make people, for a time, forget the intrinsic value of money; and that there are few entertainments for one night worth four or five guineas, and yet considering the price of the ticket, the drefs, mask, chair-hire, and other concomitant expences, the whole will not amount to much lefs. Indeed diversions in England are dearer than in any part of Europe. In France you may go to a masquerade for fix livres; at Venice, and in other parts of Italy, during the carnival, every mask is admitted that makes a gen- teel appearance. At Berlin the masquerades are all free, as well as the playhouses, subordinate places at the latter being ap- pointed for the *bourgeois*; at the masquerades they are admitted gratis, and no other distinction is made between them and the noblesse, than that a rail parts them, which extends from one end of the faloon to the other.

We now approach the Pantheon. It has already been observ-
ed, that Mrs. Cornelys's succels at Carlifle-houfe, created her a
rival. Several gentlemen of property entered into a subscription
to erect a magnificent building in Oxford-street, where balls,
masquerades, concerts, &c. were proposed to be given. When
the building was nearly finished another kind of subscription was
set on foot; but it proved limited, and occasioned so much con-
fusion, that it was soon set aside, and admittance became general.
Masquerades were very frequent, and the usual price of a ticket
was two guineas. This building conflows of a very superb ro-
tunda, and a variety of adjacent rooms for tea, supper, &c. A-
mongst the most remarkable entertainments given here was an
evening Fête, as it was called. It was an unmarked ball, at which
a great number of the principal nobility asffited, and the first-rate
beauties shone without disguise in their native ljuftre. During the
supper catches and glees were sung by performers appointed for
that purpose; and alternately martial music was introduced by
way of variety. After the repast, the doors of the tea rooms be-
ing thrown open, discovered a wood inhabited by druids, gypsies
and fortune-tellers; several of the Opera dancers performed
minuets, cotillons and allemandes. In a word, this might be
filed a variegated Ridotto, and the company were dressed ac-
cordingly, as upon those occasions. We know not whether this
entertainment will be repeated, as ladies of easy virtue were de-
barred admittance, though it is said one crept in unobserved; but
as she behaved with great decency and decorum, no exception
was made to her company.

Notwithstanding Mrs. Cornelys's decline, and the little good
fortune that has attended her fucceflors, we do not find that the
Rival Pantheon, has much to boast of; for, except the evening
Fête we have juſt mentioned, the company has been very thin at
moſt of the entertainments that have been given there.

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theleſs two new attempts of the fame kind, though in an inferior
degree, have iprung up. The one was called the Cafni\*, in
Marlborough-street, where the tickets were only a guinea:
but there seldom appeared company sufficient to pay the ex-
pences. The other is called the Fefino, at the affembly-room in
Hanover-square. A masked ball, under the name of Chicherata, was,
fome time ſince, given here, and the tickets were at two guineas.
It may not be improper to acquaint our readers with the nature of
a chicherata. It is a charaſteriſtic dance, as represented at the
carnival at Milan, which was performed by the opera dancers.

Let us now make an excursion with our readers to the Dog
and Duck in St. George's-fields. This place is celebrated for
its mineral waters, which are recommended by the faculty in
many diforders. The gardens are pleafant and rural; and here
is a large room, containing a great number of feats and tables
for the accommodation of company, who refort hither of an even-
ing, and have refrefhment upon the fame plan as at Bag-
nigge and White Conduit-houfe.

We have now gone through the mſt fashionable amusements
in and about town, and if we add Aſſley's Riving-school, at the
foot of Westminſter-bridge, and the Ombres Chinoises, or
Chineſe ſhadows, we think we have noticed the whole lift
of public amusements. The first part of this entertainment
conflows of many curious feats of horſemanſhip; the other of
fome little figures, which are exhibited by miniature ſhadows
on a very thin transparent ſcene, and appear in different ſitua-
tions, and for which a ſuitable dialogue is made by a perſon be-
hind the curtain. The price of admittance is boxes 2s. 6d.
upper-boxes 1s. 6d. pit 1s. side-galery 6d.

The reader will, by this time, have made himſelf pretty well
acquainted with the public diversions, in and about this metro-
polis. It may now be neceſsary to acquaint him with the moſt
celebrated hotels, and other houſes of entertainment, for tra-
vellers and men of pleasure.

* This has within a few weeks been flut up, and the furni-
ture diſpoſed of by auction.

R

Description

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*Description of the most remarkable HOTELS, with their Prices. The Nature of BAGNIOS in general, and the customary Experiences attending them. A Picture of modern NUNNERIES, with some Reflections upon the fame.*

THERE are two species of hotels in this metropolis; the one are for single men only, where no women are admitted; and it is remarkable that the three most distinguished are in Covent-garden.

The original one, which though not called an hotel, and indeed is more properly a bagnio, is the Hummums. This house, which is on the east side of Covent-garden, has for a number of years been frequented by country gentlemen, who come up to town on business for a short time, and do not think it worth while to hire a lodging. The apartments here are very clean and neat, the beds good, and the attendance regular. The price of a bed is half a crown a night; and if the waiter gets your shoes cleaned, fetches your breakfast, &c. he will expect a shilling.

At the Grand Hotel, as it is called, on the north side of King Street, fronting the church, apartments are to be had from half a guinea to half a crown a-night. To be sure therift are elegant, confitting of a drawing room and bed-chamber upon the first floor; the others we think inferior to those of the Hummums' at the fame price. If you have a servant, you must pay a shilling for his bed besides, and the waiter expects to be satisfied in proportion to the expence of your apartment.

At Lowe's, next door to the Grand Hotel, under the Piazza, apartments are upon the fame footing as at the Hummums, and waiters expect the like fee as there.

We have now mentioned the only three hotels, or bagnios, in Covent-garden, which do not admit of female companions; all the rest invariably allow of such indulgences. The prices there are as follow: for a double bed five shillings: fire, one faggot, one shilling: wax-lights half a crown: for the lady, at least a guinea: chair hire, though she be in the house, two shillings: ribbons for her night-cap two shillings. So that go the cheapest way to work, fetting aside the wax-lights, which will be obtruded, unless they are particularly countermanded, here is at least a guinea and a half; but if the lady finds she has any ascendency, a bottle of hock, or champaigne, will certainly be proposed, and in this cafe you may venture to put the other half guinea to the former sum. But probably the lady may be lent for when she was at fupper, and sooner than make you wait, she came as soon as she could huddle on her cloak, and in this cafe you cannot be so unpolite, as not to offer her a cold

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cold chicken, or the like; here then we may look for another guinea, for as another bottle of champaigne will be inevitably wanted, and as the oat-ale, bread, cheese, &c. will not be forgot in the bill, you may think it a cheap fupper at one pound one. Now out of these three let us see what the poor girl realizes—sixteen shillings, as she must pay a crown poundage, or be struck off the bill; and probably she is in debt to the waiter, and he takes care to pay himself, before he gives her the change. Most probably she has a week's lodging to pay at home, so that ere night she has got the fame arduous task to go thro' again, to raile supplies for the succeeding day. We must now conduct our country gentleman from the purlieus of Covent-garden: from Haddocks's, Maultbey's, and the like, to regions of greater gaiety and politeness, and of course greater expence.

We shall make a visit to the nunneries of King's-place. The following lady abbesses predece here, and carry on a very brisk trade in winter, during the sitting of parliament, for even members of the Senate are often members of diffipation.

Some of these lady abbesses have lately made themselves pretty conspicuous in the annals of gallantry. We find Mrs. Pendergast some time since, in particular, was taken great liberties with the Rotation office in Litchfield STREET, on account of two of her female visitors having a quarrel with their landlady, concerning the division of the spoils, or rather compliment money, they had obtained of a certain deceased nobleman at her house. The noife this affair made in the world, it is said, proved fatal; as the ridicule which was launched at him on account of his strange tafe in amours, affected his spirits so much, that he had recourse to other spirits to support them, which eventually proved destructive to him.

But to the pretent busineſs. In King's-place, which is contiguous to Pall-mall, there are five houſes adjoining to each other, and which go under the denomination of nunneries, and are kept by the following lady abbesses, as they are titled: Mrs. Mathews, Mrs. Windfor, Mrs. Pendergast, (whom we have already mentioned) Mrs. Dubery, and Mrs. Adams.

These feminaries are nearly all upon the fame footing, that is to say, there are several nuns or boarders, who refide here, and are always ready at a minute's warning to oblige such gentlemen as chufe to pay their compliments to them. They expect their company ſhould be paid for, if it be only to drink part of a bottle of wine; and if greater favours are required, they must be requited in proportion, and a dovrour of a couple of guineas, is not considered as an adequate recompence for their preference a couple of hours.

Female viſitors often attend, and if any particular ſtranger is ſent for, it is expected ſhe ſhould be very handſomely requited

R 2

for

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for her trouble. If a gentleman paffes a night with one of these
ladies, he may consider a ten pound bank note as very easily got
rid of.

These lady abbeffes do not only deal in what they call second-
hand goods, but they will engage for a stipulated sum to procure
delicacies, warranted original, either from town or country. To
this end they have emifaries in various parts, to give them in-
formation of the flate and dispoſition of boarding-school young
ladies ripe for an elopement: milliners apprentices defirous of
getting into keeping; and fervant maids out of place willing to
turn their hand to any thing for a maintenance. From fuch
fources they are capable of pleafing their cuſtomers, let their
taffe be ever so various, from the delicate fine lady, who almoſt
swoons at the fight of that great maleſtine he creature man,
down to the buxom country wench, who bepeaks health and
t vigour.

The country gentleman may be aflonified at ſuch a picture as
we have given him, of this mart of vice and extravagance; and
may wonder that in the neighbourood of the royal palace, and
in one of the polite ſ parts of the metropolis, a whole row of
houſes, elegant almoſt to magnificence, ſhould be devoted to
fuch infamous purpofes; that magiftracy ſhould wink at them;
and that the place, which exerts itself with rigour in many re-
ſpects, and where much ſmaller offences are committed, ſhould
overlook the enuifances. But let it not be imagined they are con-
fined solely to this ſpot; a ſtranger may be taken by ſurprize in
various parts of the town. Berkley-ſtreet, and Bolton-row near
Pendacilly, have their Welfons and Nellons; nor are the New
Buildings by Marybone exempt from ſuch ſeminaries.

It frequently happens in this part of the town, that in order
to allure ſtrangers, bills are fluck up for letting of lodgings;
and if a country gentleman, a collegiate, or any one ignorant of
the wiles practifed here, ſhould take up his residence in one of
theſe houſes, which are often replete with females of an obliſing
dispoſition, they ſoon know the bottom of his purſe, and
too late he finds their angelic faces were but falſe indexes of
their mind.

Having given theſe cautions, which we think neceſsary to
thofe who are ſtrangers to the town, we ſhall leave them to
their own judgment, either to avoid the rocks and shoals that
furround theſe ſeminaries and ſnares, which have been fatal to
many, or to indulge, and to their genius freely give, and await
the conſequences.

The other hotels are nearly upon the fame footing as thofe we
have already mentioned; ſome differing only in price, from
half a crown to two ſhillings per night; but generally where
there

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there is this difference it is wrote up, in order to induce cuſtomers
to give them the preference.

We ſhall only add upon this head, there are but three bag-
nios in London, beſides thofe under the title of hotels in
Covent-garden, that preclude ladies; two of theſe are in New-
gate-ſtreet, and the other, called Pierrot's Bagnio, in St. James's-
ſtreet.

After having given this detail of hotels, bagnios, nunne-
ries, &c. we cannot conclude this part of our work, without
obferving the great utility of the two former in many reſpects.
Travellers arriving at any hour of the night, may be always
fure of accommodation, in clean, commodious, and ele-
gant apartments, and much preferable to the common run of
inns, which in general will not admit ſtrangers after certain
hours. In this reſpect we furpaſs any metropolis in Europe;
as their hotels are flut early, and foreigners and travellers are
often much diſtrefſed, even in the gay and poſhſed city of Paris,
the boaf of Frenchmen for its pleafures, gaiety, and agrémens
in every reſpect.

The moſt POLITE AMUSEMENTS in Vogue in TOWN and at
the WATERING-PLACES; with some Cautions to COUN-
TRY GENTLEMEN and STRANGERS.

HAVING already given a description of all the public diver-
fions in and about town, it may not be improper to ſet
forth what are the private amuſements in polite life. Riding,
walking, and auſtions, ſuſually engroſs the forenoon; tennis is
a favourite game amongst the nobility, and is at once a manly
and genteel exercife, which engages much of their time before
dinner. Billiards is another game in vogue, particularly at the
watering-places; but cards form the chief amuſement of the
ladies in the evening. Whifh has given place to quadrille, and
piquet has yielded to quinze, a French game that is now much
in vogue, and is played nearly in the fame manner as our one
and thirty, with the chief difference of fifteen being the game
inſtead of thirty-one.

A country gentleman, who is a ſtranger to London and the
watering-places, cannot be too much upon his guard against
gameſters, even among the ladies; for ſorry we are to ſay there are
ſharpers of that ſex, and they may fin with impunity in this
reſpect, as they can always get off with a laugh; and a man of
gallantry cannot put the lots of his money in competition with
the fight of a captivating dimple, and a beautiful ſet of teeth.

Cricket has been lately brought much in fashion by a certain
duke, who is very fond of that game; and what is extroadinary,
ladies

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ladies have lately played at it, and with some dexterity: tho' we think it by far too violent an exercise for their delicate frames.

As to hazard, it may be called the staple commodity of gaming, as scarce any one was ever troubled with an itch for play who could ever withstand this bewitching game; which, nevertheless, affords no other pastime than the rattling of a pair of dice, except it be the lucre of gain.

It may in general be observed, that there are finesses and deceptions at all games; and where-ever there is deep play going forward, there is great reason to suspect that some manœuvres or combinations will be introduced, especially where strangers are of the party, who are supposed to be ignorant of these operations. Probably hazard is as fair a game as any that is played in public; but in private many devices are frequently introduced that may easily deceive the unguarded.

We have already had occasion to mention the nuns and nunneries of King's-place, and elsewhere, and we shall observe that many of these ladies are very expert at cards, and can cheat with more things than their eyes.

These hints are principally thrown out for country gentlemen and strangers to the town and watering-places; though they may prove serviceable to many who have passed the greatest part of their lives in London, Bath, and Brighthelmstone.

## On DRESS.

*Some Strictures upon the Necessity of a decent Appearance, with the most rational Manner of following the Fashions.*

*The haut Ton of Drels in the three different Classes, viz. Dehabille, Riding, and Full-drels.*

IT has been agreed by men of the greatest knowledge, as well with regard to books as the world, that drels is an object that ought to be considered even by philosophers, who would associate with the gay and polite. For though a *fp* is a ridiculous and contemptible being, a *flaven* is still more so. There is an affectation in drels in each extreme, and all extremes are to be avoided. A coxcomb plumes himself upon being the first, as well as the most *eutré*, in the fashion; and fancies all merit confits in external appearances: on the contrary, the book-worm placing all his glory in Hebrew roots and Greek particles, forgets that his clothes are false measure, and that the brim of his hat is near a foot deficient. Mr. Addifon particularly adcribes men of letters not to be a scandel to literature, by wearing the badge of cobweb colleges. A man's drels when he is at study

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is of no significance; for though he may converse with Tully or with Cæsar, they are no critics at this time of day with regard to fashion: but if a man goes to St. James's, and convenies only with a beardlefs page, if his garb is not conformable to the *etiquette* of a drawing-room, he will be laughed at, and not gain admiffion.

Let us then confider drels as a necessary appendage to decency, and the Sir Clement Cotterel to all genteel company: and in this point of view it must be allowed to merit some attention.

The mutation of fashions within a few years might afford an argument to a Cynic for deflifying them altogether; and yet a moment's reflexion will tell us, that the greater the variety in fashion, the more beneficial to trade. Yet the changes, in this respect, must be allowed truly refiable. A few years ago hats were worn of a most tremendous size, copied from that of count Kevenhuller, and bore his name. Coats then only came down to the first button of the breeches, which but-toned over the knee, and long garters hung down half way the leg. Soon after the coats were lengthened into banyans; the waists from being extremely long were very short; the breeches came down half way the leg, and the hat refembled a Scotch bonnet. Long waists then again prevailed, the hat got to a moderate size, but the buckles became prepofterous, and nothing but an *Artois* could cover a man's whole foot with any propriety.

At this period our coats again approach to banyans, the buckles are nearly of the same size, but we wear Dutchmen's breeches, where both thighs might go into the place of one, and our hats even out Kevenhuller Kevenhuller.

A happy medium is, doubtles, what is to be aimed at, as it bepeaks the rational man, equally distant from the coxcomb and the floven. This maxim being once established, we shall see no man of sense with a toupee fix inches high, a club that weighs two pounds hanging at his back, or a hat that fmothers his face, and would put *ancient Piftel* to the blush even in his own character.

These matters being premised, we shall now enter upon the most fashionable drels for a gentleman in dehabille, a riding-drels, and full-drels.

In dehabille. A well cocked large hat, with a double gold button and loop; hair clubbed, or cued, one row of the fides *flotant*; frock coat, silk or dimity waistcoat, cloth or silk breeches, Artois buckles.

Riding-drels. A large round hat; hair upon turners on the side, done up behind with a comb; frock coat, white dimity waistcoat and breeches, short boots.

Full-drels. Hair two rows at least, large bag, solitaire (in summer)

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(summer) silk suit full trimmed; coat, waistcoat, and breeches
the fame. In winter, velvet coat richly embroidered; silk waist-
coat conformable to the colour of the coat, embroidered with
colours; breeches of the fame as the coat; steel plain sword;
Artois buckles, either gold or silver, according to the embroide-
ry; chapeau bras, with a white feather.

Such is the present mode of dress in the three different classes,
which will serve as an index to any gentleman, tho' not conver-
ant with the fashions, to appear in taste, and conformable to
the etiquettes of the different public places, as well as at court.

A general System of POLITENESS for Country Gentlemen, or
those who have too strictly purified a College Life, whereby
they may, in a very short Time, acquit themselves with the
most polite Eafe and graceful Elegance.

LORD CHESTERFIELD has told us in one of his letters to his son,
"It is good breeding alone that prepossesses people in your
favour at first fight: more time being necessary to acquire greater
talents. This good breeding you know, does not confine in
low bows and formal ceremony, but in an eafy, civil, respect-
ful behaviour." To acquire this demands some application and
perseverance. The first step towards it is to learn to dance, at
least so much as to enter a room gracefully; for a man to take
off his hat with his right-hand, and make a clownish bow,
would immediately prejudice the company against him, though
he was master of ever so much learning and good sense; for be-
fore he could have an opportunity of displaying those talents or
abilities, a judgment would have been formed against him,
which it would be very difficult to remove. Therefore, as the
first step towards good-breeding, and being well received in the
polite world, dancing is absolutely necessary to be learnt; we do
not mean to caper like a Slingbry, or balloné a minuet like Gal-
lini, but to acquit himself without awkwardness, and to pre-
engage, at first fight, a favourable opinion.

We will now suppose him thus happily introduced into a
fashionable ser, and that he is a guest at dinner: the words of his
lordship, upon a similar occasion, will convey a just idea of
a proper behaviour: "Take care to answer with complaisance
when you are spoken to; to place yourself at the lower-end of
the table unless bid to go higher; to drink first to the lady of
the house, and next to the master; not to eat awkwardly or
disturbily; not to fit when others stand: and to do all this with an
air of complaisance, and not with a grave four look, as if you
did it unwillingly—I do not mean a filly, infidel smile, that
fools

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fools have when they would be civil; but an air of sensible good
humour. I hardly know any thing so difficult to attain, or so
necessary to possess, as perfect good-breeding; which is equally
inconsistent with a stiff formality, an impertinent forwardness,
and an awkward bashfulness: a little ceremony is often neceffa-
ry; a certain degree of firmness is absolutely so; and an out-
ward mode of is extremely becoming: the knowledge of the
world, and your own observation, must, and alone can, tell you
the proper quantities of each."

To what his lordship has said, we shall here add, that with re-
gard to drinking, you should never drink to the fame person
twice at one meal; and if a very exalted person in life prefides,
(fuck as a sovereign prince or a monarch) you should not drink
directly to him, but through the medium of a second person,
with his health. If our reader should be a scholar, let him be
careful how he displays his learning: Greek or Latin should
never be introduced where women are in company, as such a
conduct looks like inflicting their understanding, and triumphing
over their ignorance. By a parity of reafoning all argu-
ment should be carefully avoided with the ladies, who in gene-
ral do not like contradiction, the' it be offered in the most po-
lite terms. Indeed, there are few subjects they talk upon, of
which they do not possess more knowledge and judgment in than
ourselves; fashions, public diversions, anecdotes, and the like,
fall more immediately within their province than our own.

In another letter his lordship bids his son, "Remember af-
ways that all the talents in the world will want all their luftre,
and some part of their use too, if they are not adorned with that
eafy good breeding, that engaging manner, and those graces,
which seduce and prepossess people in your favour at first fight."

Lord Chesterfield entered into many minutiæ of life which
may be considered as trifling; but it is the minutiæ of good
manners, that constitute good breeding. Some observations
that have escaped him we shall here subjoin—For instance, when
a gentleman goes into a coffee-room, or any assembly where the
hat may be afterwards kept on, he should, nevertheless, on his
entrance, take it off, as a general compliment to the whole com-
pany, without addressing himself to any particular person.
Again, when in company with another gentleman, who is ac-
costed by a third person with a bow, though you are an entire
stranger to that person, you should return the salute. The hat
should be constantly taken off with the left-hand, as at the
opening of a minuet; unless some particular situation will not
admit of it, such as unexpectedly meeting a lady at the corner
of a street, and by complimenting her with the wall you may
find it almost impracticable to use your left hand upon the occa-
sion. In the wearing of a word some address is requisite, par-
ticularly

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ticularly in sitting down; it should be turned round with the belt, so as to form a diagonal line from the thigh to the ground, and not be left dangling as when in walking or a standing pofture. Again, if it is necessary to take it out of the belt, and place it in a corner of a room, it should be placed with the hilt downwards. These circumftances convince by-and-byanders, that you are acquainted with a sword, at least the wearing of it; and in the latter infance it is a prefervative againſt the sword's falling, and hurting the hilt, which being the moſt weighty part, if uppermoſt, would render it liable to this accident.

We wonder that his lordship, when he was talking of the table, and eating gracefully, had not particularized the handling of the spoon and knife; two circumftances that are frequently not adverted to. The spoon ſhould be held between the thumb and two firſt fingers, and not graſped with the whole hand. The knife ſhould always be kept with the blunt part towards you, when any thing is taken up with it in lieu of a spoon. I have known perſons, who have pretended to be polite, and even upon the ton, guilty of a great piece of rudenefs in eating artichokes, by turning up the leaves, inſtead of down, after they had drawn them through their mouths.

The cock of a hat, tho' apparently a very trivial object, is a matter deferving of attention; and the putting it on fill more ſo. To fee a man with his hat ſtaring up to the ſkies, or with his button and loop on the right-side, as may be often found in prints, done by tolerable good artiſts, is prepoſterous. As example in this reſpect is better than any written direction, follow the models of those who are eſteemed the genteeleft men upon the ton, as well with reſpect to cocking, and putting on, as the ſize of a hat.

When a perſon is introduced to a lady, young or old, if he embraces her, he ſhould only juſt approach her cheek without touching it, for as the ladies now decorate their faces, by any friction he might rob her of half of her complexion, and improve his own, at least on one ſide of his face; but he ſhould never approach, much leſs give her a ſmacking kifſ on the mouth, as ruſtics are accustomed to do.

Some of theſe obſervations may appear very puerile, and only fit to be taught a ſchool-boy; but when lord Chelſterfield could descend to give his ſon inſtructions for paring his nails, we think we may ſtand excuſed from this imputation.

There is a ſtory current, that notwithstanding all the inſtruction and advice lord Chelſterfield had given his ſon to acquire the Graces, he was ſo inattentive at times to them, that being once at dinner in a very politick circle, and ſerved with currant tart, after having eat the ſolid contents, he took up the plate, and drank the liquor; and, in this operation, having caught his

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his father's eye, who was ready to ſwoon at the ſpreſtade, he was ſo greatly diſconcerted, that he awkwardly ſpilt the greater part of the contents upon a white ſilk waistcoat, richly embroidered, which drew the attention of the whole company upon him, and ſo diſcountenanced him, that he was compelled to make a pre-cipitate retreat, before the dinner was ſinſhed.

In aiming at the fine gentleman, great care ſhould be taken to avoid all fashionable extremes, or to imitate charaſters that are contemptible or ridiculous. The macaroni tribe who outrée all kinds of drefs, and think that all merit conſits in being equipped at the top of the mode, ſhould be ſhunned as examples in any reſpect. They cock their hat at, and ogle every woman they meet, and yet no females of ſenſe will ever ſisten to them, convinced, that like Narciſus, they are mere ſelf-admirers. They ſtrut in the Park and at Ranelagh, lounge from one coffee-houſe to another, not to converſe or read the papers, but to walk up and down the room, and view their ſweet ſelves in the looking glaſſes. Such inſigniſcants are a reproach to human nature, and being beneath contempt, we ſhall leave them to themſelves. There are various branches of inſigniſcants, a-mongſt theſe we cannot help noticing the dangler: he is a being of the epicene gender, who is conſantly at home woman's heels in public, and as conſantly at her toilet in private, whose ſole ambition and concupiſcence is to comb her lap-dog, run of er-rands, match her ſilks and ribbons, and purchase her cosmetics.

Let it be remembered, that it is the happy medium which ſhould be aimed at—the Graces may be followed ſo cloſely, that you may tread upon their train, ſuppoſing them dřeſſed in fashion. A maſter of the ceremonies, at a certain celebrated watering-place, having undertaken to hand ſome ladies to their carriages, and having left his gloves in the ball-room, thought the etiquette of politenefs required, that to avoid touching the ladies hands bare, he ſhould make uſe of the flap of his coat by way of a ſuccedaneum, and laid it down as an invariable poſſulatum in elegant behaviour, that ſuch an expedient ſhould always be uſed in the like diſtreſs.

In direct contradiftinſtion to this maxim, there is another ri-diculous practice prevails; which is, that if you meet with a male acquaintance in the ſteet or elsewhere, you cannot ſhake hands with him till you have pulled off a glove. In hot wea-ther this may throw you into a double inconvenience: the firſt is, the glove's ſticking by the warmth of your hand, and the next, preſenting him with a moſt palm, which, in the dog-days, is far from being agreeable.

One more ſpecimen of politesse outrée ſhould be mentioned; and this is when two gentlemen meet in public they embrace, as a teſtimony of their friendſhip. We are ſenſible that on the continent and in Ireland this is cuſtomary; but we do not find

lord

$ 2

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Lord Chesterfield, or any Englishman who has written upon po-
liteness, has adopted this mode of addreſs, which, to say no
more, is at least ridiculous.

From what has been ſaid, we think the country gentle-
man, who has not been bred in courts, drawing-rooms, and po-
lite assemblies; and the collegiate, who has devoted moſt of his
time to the ſtudy of books, and not applied himself to the ſtudy
of men and manners, will be enabled, from what has here been
pointed out, to acquit himself, in a very ſhort time, with grace
and elegance, in the moſt elevated circles : with the eafe of a
gentleman, and not the ſtiff addreſs of a dancing maſter, or the
coxcomical affectation of a maſter of the ceremonies.

This ſtay on good-breeding cannot be better concluded, than
in the words of so great a maſter of the ſubject as lord Chesterfield.

" How many men have I seen here, who, after having had
the full benefit of an English education, first at school, and
then at the university, when they have been prefented to the
king, did not know whether they ſtood upon their heads or their
heels ? If the king spoke to them, they were annihilated; they
trémbled, endeavoured to put their hands in their pockets, and
inſuſed them; let their hats fall, and were affamed to take them
up; and, in ſhort, put themselves in every attitude but the
right, that is the eafe and natural one. The charaſteriſtic of a
well-bred man is, to converse with his inferiors without inſo-
lence, and with his ſuperiors with reſpect and with eafe. He
talks to kings without concern; he trifles with women of the
first condition, with familiarity, gaiety, but reſpect; and con-
verſes with his equals, whether he is acquainted with them or
not, upon general, common topics, that are, however, not
quite frivolous, without the least concern of mind, or awkward-
neſs of body; neither of which can appear to advantage, but
when they are perfectly eafe."

A PORTRAIT of the real MAN of PLEASURE in polite
LIFE.

AS we have entitled this work THE MAN OF PLEASURE'S
POCKET-BOOK, we think our design would not be accom-
pliſhed, if we did not delineate what a Man of Pleasure really
is, according to the ſentiments of the polite and ſenſible part of
the world. Lord Chesterfield ſeems to have given a very lively
portrait of this character in one of his letters to his ſon, and we
therefore think our readers will not be diſpleased to find it pour-
trayed by the pencil of so great a maſter.

" Pleasure is the rock which moſt young people ſplit upon;
they launch out with crowded ſails in quest of it, but without a
compaſs

( 141 )

compaſs to direct their course, or reaſon ſufficient to steer the
veſſel; for want of which, pain and ſhame, instead of pleasure,
are the returns of their voyage. Do not think that I mean to
ſnarl at pleasure like a ſtoic, or to preach againſt it like a par-
ſon; no, I mean to point it out to you like an Epicurean. I
with you a great deal; and my only view is to hinder you from
miftaking it.

" The character which moſt young men first aim at is, that of a Man of Pleasure; but they generally take it upon them; and, instead of consulting their own taſte and inclinations, they blindly adopt whatever thofe, with whom they chiefly converse, are pleafed to call by the name of Pleasure: and a Man of Pleasure in the vulgar acceptation of that phrase, means only a beaſtly drunkard, an abandoned whoremother, and a proſligate ſwearer and curſer. As it may be of uſe to you, I am not unwilling, though at the fame time affamed to own, that the vices of my youth proceeded much more from my ſilly reſolution of being what I heard call a Man of Pleasure, than from my own inclination. I always naturally hated drinking; and yet I have often drunk to diſguſt at the time, attended by great ſickneſs the next day, only becauſe I then confidered drinking as a neceſsary qualification for a fine gentleman, and a Man of Pleasure.

" The fame as to gaming. I did not want money, and con-
ſequently had no occation to play for it; but I thought play an-
other neceſsary ingredient in the composition of a Man of Plea-
ſure, and accordingly I plunged into it without deſire at first;
facilitated a thousand real pleatures to it; and made my ſelf solid-
ly uneaſy by it, for thirty of the beſt years of my life.

" I was even abſurd enough, for a little while, to ſwear by
way of adorning and completing the ſtriking character which I
aſſected; but this folly I ſoon laid aside, upon finding both the
guilt and the indecency of it.

" Thus ſeduced by fashion, and blindly adopting nominal
pleatures, I loft real ones; and my fortune impaired, and my
conſtitution ſhattered, are, I muſt confefs, the juſt puniſhment
of my errors.

" Take warning then by them; chufe your pleatures for
yourſelf, and do not let them be impoſed upon you. Follow
nature, and not fashion: weigh the preſent enjoyment of your
pleatures, againſt the neceſſary conſequences of them, and then
let your own common ſenſe determine your choice.

" Were I to begin the world again, with the experience which
I now have of it, I would lead a life of real, not of imaginary
pleasure. I would enjoy the pleatures of the table and of wine;
but ſtop short of the pains inſeparably annexed to an excesſ in
either. I would not, at twenty years, be a preaching miffionary
of

of

( 142 )

of abominable nefs and sobriety; and I should let other people do
as they would, without formally or sententiously rebuking them
for it; but I would be moft firmly resolved, not to destroy my
own faculties and constitution, in complaifance to thofe who have
no regard to their own. I would play to give me pleafure, but
not to give me pain: that is, I would play for trifles, in mixed
companies, to amufe myſelf, and conform to cullom; but I
would take care not to venture for fums, which, if I won, I
should not be the better for; but, if I loſt, ſhould be under a
difficulty to pay; and when paid would oblige me to retrench
in ſeveral other articles. Not to mention the quarrels that deep
play commonly occasions.

"I would pafs some of my time in reading, and the reſt in
the company of people of ſenſe and learning, and chiefly thofe
above me: and I would frequent the mixed companies of men
and women of ſaſhion, which though often frivolous, yet they
unbend and refrefh the mind, not uſelesſly, because they cer-
tainly poliſh and soften the manners.

"These would be my pleafures and amuſements, if I were
to live my laſt thirty years over-again; they are rational ones :
and moreover I will tell you, they are really the faſhiable
ones : for the others are not, in truth, the pleafures of what I
call people of ſaſhion, but of thofe who call themfelves ſo. Does
good company care to have a man reeling drunk among them ?
Or to fee another tearing his hair, and blaſpheming, for having
loſt at play more than he is able to pay ? Or a whoremafter with
half a nole, and crippled by coarſe and infamous debauchery ?
No ! thofe who practice, and much more thofe who brag of
them, make no part of good company; and are, moſt unwilling-
ly, if ever admitted into it. A real man of ſaſhion and pleafure
obſerves decency; at leaſt, neither borrows nor affects vice :
and if he unfortunately has, he gratifies them with choice,
delicacy, and ſecrecy.

"I have not mentioned the pleafures of the mind, (which
are the ſolid and permanent ones) because they do not come un-
der the head of what people commonly call pleafures; which they
feem to confine to the ſenſes. The pleafure of virtue, of charity,
and of learning, is true and laſting pleafure; which I hope you
will be well and long acquainted with."

His lordſhip has in this letter carefully avoided mentioning
women as to himſelf or his ſon; but it may be fairly deduced
from his acknowledging he had adopted all the ſaſhionable vices
in his youth, that libertiniuſm with regard to the female ſex was
not excluded; but we will charitably ſuppofe, that when he diſ-
continued ſwearing and drinking, he alſo left off a promiſcuous
intercourse with gruſettes, and adopted the ſyſtem he ſtrengthenſ
recommends to his ſon of intriguing with married women of
fashion.

I

( 143 )

fashion. This advice, and his recommendation of duplicity,
have been severely and juſtly cenſured; but the other parts of
his lordſhip's letters, and particularly thofe paffages relative to
good-breeding, have met with the approbation of all men of ſenſe
and politenes.

The ART of PLEASING in CONVERSATION.

THERE is not a man of common ſenſe who would not chufe
to be agreeable in company : and yet, ſtrange as it may ſeem,
very few are; not arifing from the want of wit, ſenſe, or learn-
ing, but for want of the proper judgment of applying them.
Too much eagerness to ſhine often makes a perſon intolerably
dull; miſapplied wit becomes impertinence, and even learning
introduced improperly finks into pedantry. Converſation may
metaphorically be filed a well ſeafoned olio, in which no one in-
gredient ſhould predominate, but be made palatable to all the
guests prefent. Much attention ſhould be paid to the complex-
ion and diſpoſition of your companions : if they conſult of re-
ligious men, every thing that has the leaſt tendency to free-
thinking ſhould be moſt cautiously avoided; and though you
may not perhaps entirely agree with them in all their rigid tenets,
you ſhould not oppoſe them. In a ſociety devoted to mirth and
jollity, it would be ſolly to introduce religious, moral, or grave
ſubjects; or to object to a toafſ, if even obſcene, eſtabliſhed by
cullom, though not founded on reaſon.

Story-telling is a very dangerous ground to go upon, as moſt
flories, and even the beſt, are hacknied, and ſhould be cautiously
fhunned. If you recollect to have read a ſtory in a Jefſt-book,
though it may be ever ſo pertinent, endeavour to forget it; for
nothing can be ſo mortifying, as is often the cafe, where a per-
ſon expeſts an univerſal laugh and general applaſe, as to be
told by a dry listener, " Joe Miller, page 45. No bad authority,
Sir." Even an original ſtory, or one that has not appeared in
print, ſhould never be twice told in the fame company, though
ever ſo well received. " Come Jack, tell that ſtory you told
t'other night, that made us laugh ſo much," carries with it its
own fatire. A ſtory ever ſo genuine, ever ſo humorous, witty,
or laughable, ſhould not be long, for it then becomes tedious.
The fineſt expeſts ſhould be varied, or they appear irkſome;
the moſt reliſhing viands repeated are naufeous; even beauty it-
ſelf loſes its charms by ineſſant viewing: ſo ſterling wit loſes
its value by being too often affayed. A ſtory ſhould always be
formed upon the epigrammatic plan, and terminate in a point. I
knew a perſon who gained much reputation, and was deemed a
clever fellow, who the whole evening never opened his mouth
but

( 144 )

but to drink his glafs, and smoke his pipe, except at the mo-
ment of his departure, he had then always a pertinent and rifible
flory, which he told well, and took his leave. This made a
greater impreſſion upon the company, than if he had bored them
with hackney jells the whole evening.

One thing in ſtory-telling ſhould be moſt ſtudiously ſhanned;
this is being the hero of your own ſtory. What indeed can
you ſay of yourſelf ? To found ſelf-praife is the highelt pitch of
folly and vanity; befides, nobody will give you credit for feats
of arms, or even drunken frolicks, if they tell much in your ſa-
vour : to relate a tale againſt yourſelf would be down right
idiotifm; and if it be in the mediocre line, and neither redounds
to your praife, or juſtly reſelects upon your follies, it muſt be
completely inſipid. Egotifm is to every ear fullſome; and the
letter I ſhould be invariably rejected in every ſtory, if you aim
at pleafing, gaining credit, or even attention.

Punning is a vice that ſhould be attentively avoided; and yet
fometimes a pun happily hit upon as an *impromptu* will have a
very good effect: but it ſhould arife out of the ſubjeſt, and not
the ſubjeſt out of the pun. I will not ſay with Dennis, that he
who would pun would pick a pocket; but I will ſay that a pro-
fefled punſter is worſe than a highwayman, for he robs you of
your moſt valuable property—your time: and in return gives you
nothing but a quibble for it, which would not ſave the *culprit* at
the bar of Common Senſe.

There is nothing ſo acceptable, ſo grateful as *flattery*; but
then it muſt be laid on with a careful hand, eſpecially to a ju-
dicious perſon: for flattery becomes irony andridicule if it is not
reliſhed. Every man has his hobby-horſe; in the field this
grazes in, you may venture to range at large: but even this
field has its barriers, and they ſhould be cautiously obſerved.
You may venture to praife a man's learning who is a book-
worm, and he will never fuffeſt that you confider him as
a pedant: a punſter may be applauded for his *bons mœs*, though
he never uttered one in his lite; a Robinhood orator may be
compared to Demofthenes or Cicero, and he will not, probably,
think he gains by the comparifon; a poeſtafter who can ſcarcely
jingle, and hardly knows what *metre* means, may be put in com-
petition with Dryden or Pope. In fine, diſcover a man's weak
fide, and praife him almoſt to death, you will ſeldom offend.

With regard to the ladies, wit and beauty, taſte and elegance,
conſtitute the four capital points of their ambitious compaſs.
But take care you do not ſteer north, when you ſhould go due
fouth; or eſt when you ſhould veer to theweit. Every pretty
woman plumes herſelf upon her beauty; every ordinary woman
upon her understanding and reading; but taſte and elegance they
all claim as their own provinces by preſcription. For heavens

ſake!

( 145 )

ſake! In ladies company, of whatever age, ſtature, or com-
plexion, never hint that you diſapprove of a high cap, or a cork-
rump—Theſe are eſſential ingredients in beauty, as well as taſte
and elegance; and as to coſmetics, you muſt not even furniſe
there is a perfumer's ſhop within the bills of mortality. Theſe
maxims being duly adverted to, will enable any man, of a tole-
rable capacity, at leaſt to avoid ſplitting upon that fatal rock im-
pertinence—but let us not avoid Charybdis to ſplit on Scylla.

It is not ſufficient that a man ſhould be only not diſagreeable
in company, we propoſe laying the ground-work for his being
an agreeable companion.

As there is nothing more ridiculous than entertaining a com-
pany with the portrait of a character, though ever ſo whimſical,
or *outré*, with which they are entirely unacquainted, as it is im-
poſſible they can be pleafed with the niceſt touches of even a Sir
Jofliua's pencil upon ſuch an occaſion: ſo, on the other hand, to
be ignorant of the great out-line of any remarkable character
which ingroſſes the attention of the polite, pronounces your
want of acquaintance with the world, and your being an unin-
telligent man, and ill qualified for an agreeable companion.
But you muſt go farther in this reſpect: inform yourſelf of the moſt
remarkable anecdotes of his life, his connexions, his paſſions,
and even his intrigues. The relation of theſe curious diſcoveries,
when founded in truth, and told with impartiality, muſt almoſt
invariably pleafe. There is but one danger in this reſpect:
take care they do not interfere with the party prejudices of the
company. This remark naturally leads to a more general obfer-
vation, to avoid all party or religious altercation: never was
a profelyte made, in either reſpect, by argument; prejudice is in
direſt opposition to reaſon, and can never be reconciled.

At this time when hoſtile meaſures are purſued in every quar-
ter of the world, whenever any place is befieged or taken, and
of course becomes the temporary objeſt of general converſation,
you cannot too minutely inform yourſelf of its ſituation, extent,
ſtrength, ſoil, produce, natives, &c. whereby you may give an
agreeable detail (*a-prepos*) of theſe particulars.

Next to pleafing by your own converſation, there is ſome art
required to give pleafure as an auditor. Lifen with attention to
what is related, and ſeem, at leaſt, to approve of it; never queſ-
tion the authority or veracity of the relator, but rather anticipate
the approbation he expeſted, if not by words, by your counte-
nance and features. No man chufes to have his veracity called
in question, and tho' you may be convinced he is misinformed,
it is better to leave him in his error, than attempt to reſtify his
miffake, unleſs you can do it upon unqueſtionable authority;
and even then it requires much *addreſs* to prevail without offence,
or at leaſt diſguſt.

T

It

( 146 )

It was some time since the Ton to, what was called, Humbug:
this species of falerie wit, and faëtitious humour, was introduced
by Foote — but luckily it died with him. Humbugging
was to tell a moſt prepoſterous lie with a very grave face, in or-
der to make you believe it. These extraneous conceits were,
indeed, seldom played off, but upon men of weak capacities,
and too credulous to judge even of probabilities. Never at-
tempt to renew this vicious taſte, which is equally dangerous
and contemptible.

I cannot cloſe this Effay, without recommending the perusal of
all new books of ſcience, eſpecially thoſe which make a noife
in the world; more trifling performances, ſuch as political
and fatirical pamphlets, ſhould be read, as they will neceſſarily
become topics of converſation. Without running over the
News-papers of a morning, a man is not furnished with the
chat of the day, which may be confidered as the pafle partcut into
all companies. New theatrical productions, as well as perform-
ers, will alſo be often animadverted upon, and a man, without
an opinion of his own upon theſe occafions, will be confidered
as a very insigniſtant creature: to be the mere echo of News-
paper critiques, or the re-echos of verbal critics, places a man in
a very contemptible point of light. The theatres muſt, therefore,
be viſited upon theſe occafions; and if a new performance is
founded upon hiftorical ſaſts, that hiftory ſhould be well con-
fuſed, that no degree of ignorance may even glimmer upon the
occasion.

To conclude; the great art of pleafing in converſation, is to
ſtudy the diſpoſition of your company, avoid contention, not to
attempt being ſingular in opinion, yield with a modeſt ſenſibi-
lity in argument, always avoid being warm, and though con-
futed, do not appear being vexed or even chagrined; never
ſoſt in a ſtory or relation that is not analogous to the ſubject up-
on the tapis; reaſon, but do not disſpute; ever avoid carrying rail-
tery beyond politenefs, and recede the moment you perceive the
perſon rallied is diſpleased. In a word, always behave in ſuch a
manner as you would with others to behave towards you.

A DICTIONARY for the BON TON, or the SAVOIR VIVRE VOCABULARY.

In which all the modern Words and Phraſes uſed in refined Life are
explained, and ſuch Lights thrown upon elegant Language, as the
Engliſh Tongue greatly required.

A Bborrence. A deteflation of every thing that is not perfectly the ton.
Abilities. Thoſe talents that make a man reſpectable, ſuch as dupli-
city, hypocrify, and chicane.

Abufe.

( 147 )

Abufe. The life and ſoul of converſation.

Abcompliſments. Such improvements of the perſon in either ſex as tend to captivate and create admiration.

Addrefs. The art of infinuating one's ſelf into the good graces of a great man, or a fine woman.

Adieu. An expression very proper to be uſed to all the impertinence of prudes, the exhortations of moralifts, the remarks of the reformers of manners, pulpit oratory, ſermonizing diſcourſes, dull precepts, dry reaſoning, and diſagreeable reflections.

Admiration. This, though generally diſtinguified by a note! requires no farther note, than that it cannot be introduced too often at a great man's levee, or a fine woman's toilette. Indeed it is what every female expeſts from all mankind, and particularly the Beaux Garçons in all polite circles.

Admonition. An unfashionable word that is out of uſe.

Adonis. What every pretty fellow withſes to be, what every macaroni
aims at, and what moſt of them think themſelves.

Adonife. Every effort uſed by a complete macaroni to become an Adonis.

Adoration. What all fine women think they have a right to command whenever they vouchſaſe a ſimper, or even a frown; for obſervation of any kind is almoſt too much to be beſtowed by ſuch ceſtiall be-
ings on mere mortal man.

Adreitneſs. The art of cheating in a polite manner, and without de-
tection; in other words, legerdemain, according to the ton.

Adventure. An unexpected intrigue, which like moſt unforeſeen plea-
fures, is more gratifying than amours that have been deeply planned,
and long in agitation.

Adventurer. Generally underſood to be a ſharper, or one who lives by his wits; but in intrigue it implies one who conſtantly lies in am- bulth for unguarded ſervant maids in Greenwich-park, in Eafter hol-
days, and country girls at wakes and fairs.

Adversity. That ſtate in which all men, women, and children, ſhould
be diſpised.

Adulation. That neceſſary hypocриry requisite to create a patron, or ob-
tain a miſtref. It requires ſome acquaintance with Machiavel's
principles, or at least to have read lord Cheſterfield's letters with at-
tention.

Adultery. A very faſhionable amufement for married ladies, and never
ſo greatly in vogue, particularly in high life, as at preſent.

Advice. Ridiculous to be given, and more ridiculous to be taken.

Affeſtation. A bourgeois word that does not ſeem to have a very explicit
meaning; it is frequently confounded with grace and addrefs, and
thus erroneouſly applied: a tradefan or a mechanic thinks he a-
voids being ridiculous, when he appears abſolutely en barbarae.

Agrémens. Thoſe attractions, particularly in the fair ſex, that render them amiable in our eyes, abſtraſted from their beauty.

Airs. Very neceſſary for a fine woman to give herſelf upon moſt ce-
cafions.

Alliance. In the marriage ſtate implies a convenient connubial connexion,
without the least love or affection on either ſide, for the advancing of
your fortune, and ennobling of your family.

T 2

Amazements.

( 148 )

*Amazement.* The situation of a fine lady, when she chuses to appear surprised.

*Amazon.* The adopted character of every woman of taste at Coxheath, Warley Common, Winchester, and the other encampments; whose dress is so much *en militaire*, and their sex thereby rendered so very ambiguous, that it is at least of the doubtful gender, whereby they put out of countenance many macaroni martinks, by their martial air, and the fierceness of their military appearance.

*Ambition.* A noble emanation of the foul to cut a respectable figure in life, at the expence of your coachmaker, jeweller, taylor, &c. In a word, to run in debt for as much as you can get credit, and then screen yourself under the privilege of parliament. The ambition of a fine fellow extends also to the debauching of every pretty female he can get at, and then to boast of her favours, and laugh at her credulity.

*Ambuscade.* In love as in war, is taking the enemy by surprise; at play it is lying in wait for a pigeon.

*Amours.* Are those refined dalliances with the fair sex, which the long robed gentry have deemed unlawful. For a farther and more extensive explanation of this word, we refer to lady Sarah B.—n—by, lady Gro—ner, lady Li—nier, and many other ladies equally celebrated toffs, who have greatly enlarged upon, and illustrated the meaning of this word.

*Amourette.* A transient intrigue, a temporary amour that serves to engage a vacant hour.

*Anarchy.* And conflagration of course, when a husband pretends to circumscribe his wife's pleasures, regulate her expences, calls her to account about her pin-money, and refuses to pay her debts of, honour, or to redeem her jewels when they are mortgaged for them.

*Anecdotes.* Those pleasing historiettes of the times, which develope the characters and connexions of the two Sexes in high life. The anecdote of the day, lets us into the secret who and who are together, and affords ample scope to conversation for the polite tea-tables about the purlieus of St. James's. In politics, they unravel the mysteries, and give us a proper insight into the Machiavilian and other designs of the junto, and to which we are to aferibe the unaccountable succeds of our fleets and armies in Europe and America.

*Angels.* All those divine females, who yield the most heavenly delight without ceremony, and without fee or reward; who fabricate their complexions, according to the most approved colouring of Sir Johnna, after his portraits have been painted a month; or as the poet says,
> "Angels were painted fair, to look like you."

*Angels (fallen).* Those unfortunate females, who either from some faux pas in marriage, or from miscarriage in life, (not in child-bed) are reduced to the very irk some necessity of being constant to their husbands, and fond of their children. Another species of fallen angels, are those who are compelled to submit to all the whims, caprices, and extravagancies of impotence and debilitated passion, merely for the pitance of a bare subsistence.

*Antidotes.* To blifs, to taſſe, to fashions. Those monſtrous creatures who talk of warty, never play at cards on Sundays; but go to church in round eared caps, ſuch as were worn by our grand-mothers.

Antipathy.

( 149 )

*Antipathy.* What every woman has for her husband before and after marriage, and is a ſure sign of superlative taſſe, and the *baut ton m-me-*

*Antiques.* Those wretched females whose youth and beauty have entirely deferted them, and who in despite of all the cosmetic art of Warren, are even paffed the æraſof ever-preens, and are condemned to the eternal neglect of the male ſex, unleſs their pin money, or their purſes, can procure them a petticoat pensioner, or a riding maſter, who must be well ſupported with good pay, and warm quarters.

*Anxiety.* That pleading perplexity which a pretty woman always throws her husband into by her amorous ogles, and occasional expressive glances to the fineſt fellow in company. It is that whimsical state a man is in, when it is about an even bett, whether he is or is not a cuckold.

*Apology.* Never to be made by a man but to a fine woman, for not having improved the firſt opportunity of convincing her of the ardor of his passion, and when it is neceſsary to force a bluſh for ill-timed modeſty.

*Apropos.* Whatever comes uppermost, as a fine lady or gentleman can never ſay any thing but what is to the purpose.

*Artillery.* In love as in war, are all those instruments of conqueſt or deſtruction, that can be brought into the field againſt the enemy.

*Aſſerions.* Seasonable inuendoes thrown out to bring any other female's character upon a level with one's own.

*Aſſonifement.* What arifes in a woman's mind, to think that every man who bcholds her is not deeply enamoured with her.

*Athletic.* Notwithstanding it is quite unſashionable to be ſo at preſent, it is no bad recommendation to the ladies.

*Artiltudes.* Very neceſsary to be ſtudied every morning in a full length looking glaſs, in the preſence of Gallini, or ſome ſuch able judge of graceful movements, and ſinſhed dispoſitions of the body.

*Avarice.* The moſt abominable of all crimes and vices; and in a hufband is of ſo black a hue, that a woman may fairly acquit herſelf to her own conscience if the poisons him.

*Audacity.* That happy aſſurance which enables a perſon to ſay any thing with eafe, and without heſitation.

*Avidity.* In a hufband is dreadful, in a wife it is highly commendable, particularly with reſpect to trinkets and jewels, as they may easily be converted into caſh for the benefit of her Chér amé.

*Autor.* A garreteer, a Grub-street quill driver, the tool of a mercenary bookseller, who fattens upon his brains, whileſt the unfortunate writer reſembles the apothecary in Romeo, without the advantage of ſelling any other than literary poſison, (a mere drug in Paternoſterrow) to get himſelf into ſleth.

*Automaton.* Very improperly applied to an accompliſhed macaroni, as it is well known that he chatters, and generally very ſaſt: we will not here enter deeply into his ſenſe or meaning, the concatenation, or combination of his ideas; theſe are at preſent, as indeed in moſt cafes, quite out of the queſtion; but to rank him as a mere automaton, would place him beneath the level of a monkey, to which rank he certainly is at least entitled.

*Awkwardneſt.* A moſt horrible deportment, devoid of grace and eleſance, and which conſtantly beſpeaks the rufſic quite eſtranged from all the ſent.

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*Backbiting.* An antiquated word for flander, to which we refer the reader.

*Badinaut.* Playful; when applied to drets, means easy and tafty, in op-
position to diffurets and ungracefulneſs.

*Eagarelle.* A more trifle, happily defined by every coxcomb you meet.
Also such as a woman of spirit's cornuting her husband, cheating at cards, and the like.

*Baſſuſneſt.* A moſt enormous crime, totally banifhed from the regions of taſte and elegance.

*Baſinado.* What a macaroni utterly deteſts, though frequently com-
pelled to undergo.

*Fawd, obſolute—See Lady Abbefs.*

*Bawdy.* Sometimes improperly applied to pleafant double entendres,
and facenious fallies of wit, bordering upon the luſcious.

*Beau.* An old ſhioned name for a macaroni.

*Beau garçon.* That much admired character which the ladies hold in
such great eſtream, that every puppy aims at it, and fancies he is
the real thing.

*Beau monde.* The gay, the brilliant vortex, confilting of the polite, the elegant and refined of both fexes, and who confiture the real ton. It is never to be met with on the eastern side of Temple bar, where the tar of Thames ſtreet, and the tallow of Blow-bladder ſtreet, contaminate the air, and give ſuch an offenſive smell to an alderman, or a common councilman's lady, as all the eau de luce in Warren or Barly's ſhop cannot eradicate.

*Beauty.* The chief objeſt and envy of all women, and the adoration of all man; to which every female votary should facrifice health, decency, and even cleanlinneſs, as many of the moſt capital heads and reigning toaſts of this metropolis can with truth teſtify.

*Bel Dame.* An antiquated maid, who gives leetures upon the depravity of the age, and secretly laments that ſhe has no charms to captivate, and no opportunities of being as wicked (as ſhe calls it) as the belt of us.

*Benevolence.* That unremitted care and attention which ſhould be paid to monkies, lap dogs, and parrots, in preference to all the reſt of the creation.

*Bien ſance.* That accomplished effrontery which makes a man or woman ſay or do the moſt impudent and impertinent things, with eafe and politeneſs.

*Bigamy.* Frequently a very uſeul repetition of matrimonial alliances to a man of ſpirit in diſtreſs.

*Bijoux indifferents.* Pretty baubles for the ladies, much in vogue at boarding schools, but in little eſtimation out of thofe ſeminaries.

*Bon mot.* A good thing, a witty expreſsion.

*Bon Vivant.* A jolly fellow, a good companion.

*Braws.* An Italian word very expreſſive of applaſe, and is frequently uſed when a woman makes a trip either into or out of the marriage-bed.

*Brutality.* An utter ignorance of the graces and the tons which qualify a man for good company and the polite world.

*Buffineſs.* The great ſtudy of life amongst the *brau monde*, divided between the toilette, the tea-table, the opera, and the quadrille-table.

*Captivate.* To captivate, the inſatiable rage of every fine woman.

*Cards.* The moſt deligſtful employment in life; the chief ſtudy of a fine

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fine lady, for which almost every other consideration ſhould be given
up—such as husband, children, family, religion, devotion, &c. &c.
They engage a woman's attention from morning to night: and no
lady sleeps without Hoyle under her pillow, that in cafe any equivocal
litigation ſhould arise in her mind, half asleep and half awake, the
may have immediate recourse to that ſtandard of gaming to cafe her
mind, and tranquilize her flumbers. As cards are moſt universally
played at on Sundays, and the may, by ſome accident, be forced to
church, either to display a new gown, or ſhow a new cap; the may
nevertheleſs not loſe her time, but ſtudy Hoyle all the while prayers
are faying, by having it bound prayer-book fashion.

*Caution.* Quite neeſtles in the marriage ſtate.

*Character.* Another queer word, when applied to a female, and was
formerly almost fynonymous with Chafity, but both words, in this
ſenſe, have loft all their meaning.

*Charity.* A cold, inanimate word, that was much in vogue the latter end of the laſt, and the beginning of the preſent century, but is now only uſed for the ſake of oſſentation, in the lifts of public benefactions.

*Chafiſtyn.* A hal! hal! wall funk to nothing. Spoken of by the ancients, who were ſo weak as to make her a goddeſs; but ſhe has long ſince been banifhed all polite circles, and is compelled to keep no other company than her hounds.

*Ceremony.* The etiquette of drawing-rooms, levees, and ruelles, according to the moſt poliſhed ſystem of good-breeding, in which fawning and grimace ſupply the place of fincidity and old English frankneſs.

*Chevalier d'Induftrie.* A poverty ſtruck macaroni, who, in deſpite of fate, is resolved to make an appearance (fuch as it is) ; to this end he darns and coaxes his flockings, wathes and tacks on his own ruffles, cleans his own ſhoes, and at length fallies forth as ſpruce as brush and brushing can make him, as long as any nap remains upon his coat.

*Chicane.* A very neceſſary qualification in many departments of life for both ſexes, particularly all thofe who handle a pack of cards, or ſhake a dice-box.

*Chit-Chat.* That fashionable ſmall talk that is occasionally interlarded with a little well timed ſcandal, and ſerves to cool one's tea in an afternoon, and is frequently administered with a cordial to thofe who are afflicted with tender nerves.

*Ciciflee.* A uſeul member of ſociety, who ſupplies the place of a good-natured husband, and the wants of a good natured wife.

*Cler Ami.* Nearly fynonous with the former, with this difference, that the fit pays his devoirs according to the Italian, the latter according to the French taſte.

*Civility.* A bourgeois kind of politeſſe.

*Complete gentleman.* He who ſtudies nothing but drets, addreſs, and the graces, and who devotes his whole time to cards; who deteſts muſly authors, and ſtill more their muſly rules. A perfect connoisseur in cosmetics and perfumes, and a complete maſter of the ceremonies at toilettes and ruelles.

*Complexion.* What every woman of taſte ſhould make her forenoon ſtudy for ſome hours, in order to bring her face to the moſt delicate tinge, and her ſkin to the moſt exquifite texture. All the books that have been written upon this ſubject are of no ſervice, for it is by practice alone

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alone that a lady can arrive at a proper knowledge of the due application of cosmetics, the just variation and flading of rouge and blanche, and the happy blending of both. Ladies, indeed, now pay due attention to the art of fabricating complexions, and initiate their daughters very early in this great mystery, that they may not fall a sacrifice to erroneous doctrines that proved so fatal of the celebrated Mfs. Bunckam, of enamelled memory.

*Connoisseur.* Those refined judges of the polite arts, who never are absent at a new opera, or the sale of a collection of pictures, fix the standard of merit of the first, and pronounce upon the masterly performance of the latter.

*Connoisseur.* An adept at cards and other games, who understands all the operations and manœuvres as taught by Jonas and the rest of his fraternity. Also a bad judge of bad pictures.

*Coquetry.* A very necessary science for every woman of taste, according to the last improved system, as fitted at Bath, Scarborough, &c.

*Coxcomb* and *Petit Maitre*, are now happily blended in the present macaroni.

*Croupier.* In a Bacchanalian revel, the deputy toast-master at the lower end of the table.

*Cuckold.* What every woman of spirit is emulous in making her husband.

*Curioſsify.* A very amiable recommendation in a woman, but infupportable in a husband.

*Debauchery.* A polite system of diurnal and nocturnal revels.

*Delicacy.* That nice distinction upon every occasion that denotes the fine gentleman.

*Demi-rep.* A much esteemed character in the polite female world. She may be compared to Mahomet's tomb, suspended between earth and heaven, as she is between vice and virtue, chafity and infamy.

*Dentift.* A fashionable appendage of the toilette, who easily makes his way from behind a chariot into it, and thrives, in spite of tooth wort, upon bones and flumps.

*Dilettanti.* The chosen few critics, who have established their reputation for their exquisite taste and judgment in the polite arts, having travelled at great expence to know a modern from an antient antique, and a Corregio of Harp Alley from an original of that great master.

*Divorce.* The most agreeable and commodious end of matrimony.

*Dramatic Writers.* The modern herd of pilferers from the French and Italian, who anglicize characters that were never intended for the English stage, and their productions have all the requisites for the drama, except fable, buſineſs, character, dialogue, denouement, and catastrophe.

*Duellift.* The modern champion for fame, who picks quarrels for the fake of mutual honour, and has the addrefs of wounding coats and hats at a convenient distance, without any bodily danger to either party.

*Duplicity.* The celebrated and most effential art in politics and intrigue, of displaying two faces, as established by Janus, the god of peace and war, and judiciously defined by the late lord Chesterfield.

*Education.* In men, dancing, fencing, riding, gaming, drinking, &c. In women, mufie, dancing, ogling, quadrille, and intriguing; the happy application of cosmetics, and the other requisites of the toilette, rouge and blanche not excepted.

Egotism.

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*Egotism.* An useful figure of speech to display a person's own conſequence.

*Effusion of politeness.* That subtle and refined extro from all that is fashional, elegant, and desirable in the great world.

*Evergreen.* A lady, who by dint of art, preserves her complexion and the appearance of youth till fixty.

*Fainting.* Very necessary to be introduced upon critical occasions.

*Fashions.* Whatever is established by the coterie of both sexes.

*Forwards.* Those kind indulgencies fmontaneously beſtowed by the fair sex.

*Fright.* A female, pretty or not pretty, who does not improve her complexion by art, does not wear a head above a foot high, and has not adopted a cork-rump.

*Gambling.* The art of living genteely, without a visible man, or as count Basset fays, driving one's chariot upon the four acs.

*Gaming.* A softer word for the fame profession.

*Gameſter.* Every man of taste, and every woman of ſpirit upon the haulton.

*Government.* What no woman ſhould ſubmit to from a husband.

*Good breeding.* An old fashional word for politesse.

*Good-natured.* What every woman ſhould be always to her cher ami, but never to her husband.

*Good harmony.* for the fame reafon ſhould never ſubſilt at home.

*Good luck.* When a ſprightly female cornutes her husband before the honey moon is over.

*Good fortune.* For a woman to marry a rich man whom she completely detains.

*Happineſs.* Being the toaf at all Bacchanalian revels, envied by the reſt of the ſex, for having the handſomeſt fellows in the train of her admirers, and being scandal proof.

*Honour.* Paying one's gaming debts, debauching a friend's wife or daughter, and then running him through the body.

*Housewife.* A moſt contemptible, unfashionable animal, being no where to be met with but at a farmer's or a country parfon's fire-tide.

*Husband.* A domeſtic animal, that may be useful, particularly in money matters.

*Hufb money.* Frequently neceſſary to be given to ſervants to prevent the detection of an intrigue, before it is ripe for the public's information.

*Hypocryſy.* A very useful ingredient in the world.

*Jealousy.* Unknown in the polite world.

*Inconſtancy.* The chief ſelicity of matrimony.

*Indifference.* The polite ſtate of wedlock three days after marriage.

*Indiscretion.* Obſolute.

*Infamy.* That ſtate when a woman cannot get a handſome gallant to convince the world her husband is properly branched with antlers.

*Infatuation.* The prefent ſtate of the times, fashions, manners, and moſtals, being all ſo refined that they infatuate our ſenes even to phrenzy.

*Intrigue.* The very zeßt of delight.

*Keeping.* A connection founded upon pecuniary advantages on the ſide of the female, who despises her ſupporter for his folly and extravaganze.

*Lady Abbesses.* A character now as well known in this country as in any Romish part of the continent. She is the directress of a nunnery, where the rites of Venus are constantly exercis'd, and to the ſhrine of

U

this

["( 154 )", "this goddeſs the votaries pay their daily and nightly devotions. Such\nare their matins, ſuch are their vefpers, and ſuch are their vigils. This\npriſteſs having been long initiated in all the myſteries and arcana of\nthe temple of the Paphian goddeſs, ſhe gives her diſciples ſuch uſe-\nful and learned ſtectures, as, if they religiously follow, cannot fail\nſoon to render them adpts in the ſcience of love. There are many\nof theſe ſeminaries, particularly in the purliſes of St. James's and\nMarybone, where noviciates ſpeedily obtain the veil. A riding-maſter\ngenerally attends, at the requeſt of the abbeſs, to give them proper\ninſtructions.", "Licentiauſneſs. Quite unknown in theſe times.", "Macaroni. The moſt approved character upon the ton, who drefſes ac-\ncording to the moſt ſuperlative taſte, and leads the ſashion in every\nparticular.", "Menial accomplishments. The art of pleafing a firſt rate toaſt, and being a\ntoad-eater to a great man.", "Nobody All England, except about a thousand macaronies, and twelve\nhundred women of ſuperlative taſte.", "Opportunity. That lucky moment when a woman yields herſelf to the\nman ſhe likes.", "Politeſſe. The eſſence of addrefs, the ſtudy of the graces, and a thorough\nknowledge of the ton; being the only paſſport to elegant company.", "Prudery. False modeſtyle, which generally veils the moſt criminal incli-\nnations.", "Ruelle. A woman of ſaſhion's bed-side, where a man of gallantry may\ntake almoſt any liberties with impunity.", "Scandal. The very life and ſoul of conversation.", "Seduſſion. The great art of gaining a woman's affections, under pre-\ntence of being deeply enamoured with her, when at the fame time you\ndespife the victim for her vanity and weakneſs.", "Shame. The want of money, and the want of conqueſts.", "Sincerity. A miſnomer for duplicity.", "Throwing of stones, is at a horſe-race nearly the fame as Levant at a\ngaming-table, with this difference only, that a ſtone-thrower rides off\nthe course as ſoon as he finds he has loſt, rather than rique the exer-\nciſe of the horſe-whip, which is conſantly his lot if overtaken.", "Ton. An exaſt and invariable purſuit of every thing that is ſaſſionable,\npolite, and elegant, as eſtabliſhed in the moſt brilliant circles.", "Bon Ton. The comparative—Hout Ton. The ſuperlative degree.", "Virtue. A phantom, a chimera, an ignis fatuus that bewilders the old,\nthe decrepid, and deformed, but is never obſerved by the young, the\ngay, the ſpited, and, in a word, the ton.", "Wore. A filthy word, ſearce to be pronounced by the tongue of delica-\ncy. If it means any thing, it muſt allude to thate unhappy ſemales,\nwho either from neceſſity or avarice, ſell their charms to the beſt\nbidder. It no way ſignifies a woman of ſpinit, taſte, and elegance,\nwho chufes her cbers-amis not for lucre but for real gratification.\nTheſe Nimon l'Enclois of the age, keep up the dignity of intrigue,\nand put the correfpondence between the iexes upon an eligible and laud-\nable footing.", "man's man. What the French call *un bon cog*; a man formed and qua-\nliſted to pleafe the fair in every reſpect; who conſantly conſufts their\npleaſures, and studies their hampineſs; who anticipates their wants,", "( 155 )", "The HOUSE of PEERS in Alphabetical Order, with\ntheir Town Residence.", "D stands for Duke, M for Marquis, E for Earl, V for Viscount, L for\nLord, Bp. for Bifhop.", "Aberdeen e. Wimpole street\nAbergavenny l. Groſw. place", "Abergavenny l. Groſw. place", "Abingdon e. Hill street", "Albemarle e.", "Amherſt l. Whitehall", "Aneafter d. Savillee row", "Archer l. Portman ſquare", "Argyll d. Argyll street", "Arundel of Wardour l. Portman ſqu.", "Aſhburnham e. Dover street", "Audley l. Half-Moon street", "Ayleſbury e. Seymour place, May Fa.", "Aylesford e. Arlington street", "Bangor bp. Charles street, Berkley ſqu.", "Bath and Wells bp. Groſwenor place", "Bathurſt e. Ruffel street, Bloomſbury", "Beaufort d. Groſwenor ſquare", "Beauſieu l. Dover street", "Bedford d. Bloomſbury ſquare", "Berkeley e. Groſwenor place", "Befborough e. Cavendifl ſquare", "Bolingbroke v. Half Moon street", "Bolton d. Southampton row", "Boſſon l. Groſwenor street", "Breadalbane e.", "Bridgewater d. Cleveland row", "Briſtol e. St. James's ſquare", "Briſtol bp. Dëanry of St. Paul's", "Br. wnlow l. Bond street", "Bucclough d. Groſwenor ſquare", "Bucks e. (in Ireland)", "Bute e. South Audley street", "Byron l. Queen Ann street", "Cadogan l. Whitehall", "Camden l. New Burlington street", "Canterbury abp. Lambeth", "Cardiff l. Hill street,", "Carlile e.", "Carlile bp. St. James ſqu. West.", "Carmarthen m. Groſwenor ſquare.", "Caffilſe e.", "Chandos d. Chandos str. Cav. ſqu.", "Chatham e.", "Chedworth l. Berkeley ſquare", "Cheſter bp.", "Cheſterfield e. Wimpole street", "Chicheſter bp. Albemarle street", "Cholmondeley e. Piccadilly", "Clarendon e. Upper Groſwenor ſqu.", "Clifford l. Spring Gardens", "Clifford of Chudley l. Berkeley ſqu.", "Corke e. Upper Groſwenor street", "Cornwallis e.", "Coventry e. Piccadilly", "Courtenay v. Groſwenor ſquare", "Cowper e. (at Florence)", "Craven l. Chandos str. Berkeley ſqu.", "CUMBERLAND d. Pallmall", "Dacre l. Bruton street", "Dalhouſe e.", "Darlington e. Clew. house, S. J. ſqu.", "Darnley e. Berkeley ſquare", "Dartmouth e. Ch. Sr. St. Ja. ſquare", "De Lawarr e. Audley ſquare", "Denbigh e. South street", "Derby e. Groſwenor ſquare", "Devonſhire d. Piccadilly", "Digby l. Brooke street", "Dormer l. South Audley street", "Dorſet d. Groſwenor ſquare", "Ducie l. Brooke street", "Dudley v. Groſw. gate, Hyde park", "Dunmore e. Berkeley Sr. Portman ſqu.", "Dutham bp. Albemarle street", "Edecumbe l. Upper Groſwenor street", "Effingham e. Adelphi", "Eglington e. Piccadilly", "Egmont e. Portman ſquare", "Egremont e. Piccadilly", "Ely bp. Dover street", "Effex e. Stanhope str. May Fair", "Exeter e. Groſwenor street", "Exeter bp. Curzon street", "Falmouth v. St. James's ſquare", {"bbox": [1086, 97

["( 156 )", "Fitzwilliam e. Piccadilly", "Foley 1. Chandos street", "Fortescue 1. Wimpole street", "Gainsborough e. Harley street", "Galloway e. Charles fir. St. J. Sgu.", "GLOUCESTER d. Upper Grosvenor st.", "Gloucester bp. Grosvenor square", "Godolphin 1. Stoble yard", "Gordon d. Upper Grosvenor street", "Gower e. Whitehall", "Grafton d. Albemarle street", "Grantham 1.", "Grosvenor 1. Grosvenor square", "Guilford e. Henrietta street", "Hamilton d.", "Hampden v. Green str. Grosf. sgu.", "Ha borough e.", "Harcourt e Cavendish square", "Hardwicke e. St. James's square.", "Harrington e. Stable yard, St. James's", "Harrowby 1 Park street", "Hawke 1. Bloomsbury square", "Hereford v. Chandos street", "Hereford bp. Pall mall", "Hertford e. Grosvenor street", "Hillifborough e. Hanover square", "Holderneile e. Hertf. St. Park lane", "Holland 1.", "Hume 1. David street, Grosf. sgu.", "Huntingdon e. St. James's Place", "Jerfey e. Grosvenor square", "Ilchefter e. Grosvenor square", "Irwin v. opposite Grosvenor gate", "King 1. Dover street", "Kinnoul e.", "Landaff bp. Welbeck street", "Leeds d. St. James's square", "Leigh 1.", "Le Deipencer 1. Hanover square", "Leinfler d. St. James's street", "Lincoln bp. Amen Corner", "Litchfield bp. Great Ruffel st. Bloomf.", "London bp. St James's square", "Lothian, m.", "Loudoun e. Privy Garden", "Lyttleton 1. Hill street", "Macclesfield e. Cavendish square", "Manchester d. Portman square", "Mansfield e. Bloomsbury square", "Marchmont e. Curz. str. May Fair", "Marlborough d. Pall mall", "Maynard v. Grosvenor square", "Middleton 1. Stanhope str. May Fair", "Milton 1. Tilney street, May Fair", "Monfon 1. Albemarle street", "Montagne d. Privy garden", "Montagu v. Queen Ann street", "Montfo t 1 Orchard street", "Montrode 4 Upper Grosvenor street", "Mountfluart 1. Hill street", "Newcastle d. New Palace yard", "Norfolk d. St. James's square", "Northampton e. (abroad)", "Northington e. Charles st. Berkley sgu.", "Northumberland d. Charing grofs", "Norwich bp. Upper Grosvenor str.", "Onflow 1 Dover street", "Orford e. Green ft. Grosvenor sgu.", "Oxford e. Harley street", "Oxford bp.", "Paget 1. Sawile Row", "Pelham 1. Stretton street", "Pembroke e. Privy garden", "Percy 1. Northumberland house", "Peterborough e. Soho square", "Peterborough bp. Conduit street", "Petre 1. Park lane", "Plymouth e. Bruton street", "Polwarth 1. David street, Grosf. sgu.", "Pomfret e. Chandos st. Cav. square", "Portland d. Burlington house", "Portfmouth e.", "Poulett e. Hill street", "Powys e. Albemarle street.", "Queenberry d Piccadilly", "Radnor e. Grafton street", "Ravenfworth 1. St. James's square", "Richmond d. Privy garden", "Rivers 1. Herford street", "Rochefter bp. Deanry, West.", "Rochford e. Upper Harley street", "Rockingham m. Grofo. square", "Romncyl. Arlington street", "Rofeferry e. Holland house, Kenfing.", "Roxburgh, d. Hanover square", "Ru land d. Knightfri'dge", "St. Albans d. Boulton row", "St. Afaph bp. Bolton row, Piccadilly", "St. David s bp. Upper Brock street", "St. John 1.", "Salibury e. G. of venor street", "Sa ifby bp. Hertford street", "Sandwich e. Admiralty", "Sandys", "( 157 )", "Sandys 1. Bruton street", "Say and Sele v. Fermyn street", "Scarborough e. South Audley street", "Scarddale 1. Mansfield street", "Shaftesbury e. Grosvenor square", "Shelburne e. Berkeley square", "Shrewsbury e. Stanhope street", "Somerset d. Upper Grosvenor street", "Sondes 1. Grosvenor square", "Spencer e. St. James's place", "Stamford e. Charles st. Berkeley sgu.", "Stanhope e.", "Stormont v. Portland place", "Stourton 1. St. James's square", "Strafford e. St. James's square", "Suffolk e.", "Suffex e. Mansfield street", "Talbot e. Lincoln's Inn fields", "Tankerville e. Grosvenor square", "Temple e.", "Teynham 1.", "Thanet e. Grosvenor square", "Thurlow 1. Ormond street", "Torrington v.", "Townhend v. Portman square", "Vere 1

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<table><thead><tr><th>Names</th><th>Where cfose</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>Villiers, lord</td><td>Ludlow</td></tr><tr><td>Upper Offory, earl of</td><td>Bedfordshire</td></tr><tr><td>Vyner, Robert</td><td>Lincoln</td></tr><tr><td>Wake, Sir William</td><td>Bedford</td></tr><tr><td>Wallace, James</td><td>Horsham</td></tr><tr><td>Waller, Robert</td><td>Chipp. Wycomp.</td></tr><tr><td>Walpole, hon. Thomas</td><td>King's Lynn</td></tr><tr><td>Walpole, hon. Richard</td><td>Yarmouth, Norf. Worcester</td></tr><tr><td>Walsh, John</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>Walsingham, hon.</td><td>Knaresborough</td></tr><tr><td>Robert Boyle</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>Walter, John Rolle</td><td>Devonshire</td></tr><tr><td>Waring, Walter</td><td>Coventry</td></tr><tr><td>Warren, Sir George</td><td>Lancaster</td></tr><tr><td>Warren, Sir Jo. Borlafe</td><td>Great Marlow</td></tr><tr><td>§ Watson, hon. Lew- is Thomas</td><td>Heydon</td></tr><tr><td>§ Webb, Nathaniel</td><td>Ilchefter</td></tr><tr><td>§ Weddell, William</td><td>Malton</td></tr><tr><td>Wedderburn, Alex.</td><td>Bifhop's castle</td></tr><tr><td>Wemyfs, Hon. James</td><td>Sutherlandshire</td></tr><tr><td>Wenman, viscount</td><td>Oxfordshire</td></tr><tr><td>Wenman, hon. T. Fra.</td><td>Wesbury,</td></tr><tr><td>Westcote, lord</td><td>Bewdley</td></tr><tr><td>† Whitbread, Samuel</td><td>Bedford</td></tr><tr><td>Whitmore, Thomas</td><td>Bridgenorth</td></tr><tr><td>Whithed, James</td><td>Cirencester</td></tr><tr><td>Whitworth, Richard</td><td>Stafford</td></tr><tr><td>Wilkes, John</td><td>Middlesex</td></tr><tr><td>Wilkinson, Pinckney</td><td>Old Sarum</td></tr><tr><td>Wilkinson, Jacob</td><td>Berwick</td></tr><tr><td>Williams, Sir Hugh</td><td>Beaumaris</td></tr><tr><td>§ Williams. Watkin</td><td>Flint</td></tr><tr><td>§ Wilmot, Jn. Eardley</td><td>Tiverton</td></tr><tr><td>Wilson, Sir Tho. Sp.</td><td>Suffex</td></tr><tr><td>§ Winnington, Edw.</td><td>Droitwich</td></tr><tr><td>Wollaston, William</td><td>Ipswich</td></tr><tr><td>Wolsey, Charles</td><td>Milborne Port</td></tr><tr><td>Wombwell, Sir George</td><td>Huntingdon</td></tr><tr><td>Worsley, Sir Richard</td><td>Newport Hants</td></tr><tr><td>§ Worley, ward Meux</td><td>Newtown, Hants</td></tr><tr><td>§ Wo-ſly - James</td><td>Yarmouth, Hants</td></tr><tr><td>Wray, Sir Cecil</td><td>Eaſt Retford</td></tr><tr><td>Wrottesley, Sir John</td><td>Staffordshire</td></tr><tr><td>Wyldbore, Mat.</td><td>Peterborough</td></tr><tr><td>Wynn, Sir W. Williams</td><td>Denbighshire</td></tr><tr><td>Wynn, Glynn</td><td>Caernarvon</td></tr><tr><td>Yeo, Edward Ree</td><td>Coventry</td></tr><tr><td>Yonge, Sir George</td><td>Honiton</td></tr><tr><td>Yorke, Sir Joseph</td><td>Grampound</td></tr><tr><td>Yorke, Hon. John</td><td>Reygate</td></tr><tr><td>† Yorke, Pèlip</td><td>Helſon</td></tr></tbody></table>

Town Residence.
Grafton flr. Berk. ſq.
Groſvenor Place
Conduit flrct
Cheſterfield flrct
Lincoln's-inn fields
Half moon flrct
Lincoln's-inn fields
Great George flrct
Cheſterfield flrct

Portugal flrct

Pall mall

Parliament flrct

Grafton flr. Berk. ſq.

Q. Ann flr. Cav. ſquare

Groſvenor flrct

Savile Row

Upper Brook flrct

Lincoln's-inn fields

Cha. flr. St. Jam. ſq.

K. B. walks, Inner Temps

Berners flrct

Portman ſquare

Wimpole flrct

New Burlington flrct

Cleveland court

Princes court, Welms

Hereford flrct

Abchurch lane

Gerard flrct, Soho

George flr. Hanov. ſq.

Bedford row

Bond flrct

Harley flrct

Wimpole flrct

Greek flrct, Soho

Crutched-fryars

Stratford Place

Castle flr. Leic. fields

Pall mall

(America)

Gr. Geo. flrct Welms.

St. James's ſquare

Dean flrct

Conduit flrct

Stratford Place

(At the Hague)

Berkeley ſquare

Great George flrct

An exact Account of the Days and Hours for buying and
accepting, or selling and transferring the several Stocks,
or Government Securities, and receiving the Interest or
Dividends due thereon, at the Bank, India-Houſe, and
South-Sea Houſe.

At the Bank, in Threadneedle-street, near the Exchange,
Bank-flock is transferred Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.

Dividends thereon are due, at Lady-day and Michaelmas, old ſtyle, viz.
5th of April and 10th of October.

Three per cent. reduced, Tueſ. Wedneſt. Thurſ. and Friday.

Dividends are due. 5th of April, and 10th of October.

Dividends due

3 per cents. of 1726, Wednesday and Saturday

3 per cents. conſol. Tueſ. Wed. Thurſ. and Friday

3 1-half 1756, Tuesday and Thursday

3 1-half 1758, Monday, Wednesday and Friday

4 per cent. conſol. Tueſ. Wed. Thurſ. Friday

Jan. 5th, July 5th

4 per cent. 1777, Monday, Wednesday, Friday April 5th, Oct. 10th

Long annuities, Wednesday and Saturday Jan. 5th, July 5th

Short Ann. 30 years, 1778, Tueſ. Thurſ. ? After Chriſt. dividend, and

Dirto, 29 years, 1779, Mond. Wed. Fria. 5 will be conf. Jan. 5, July 5

The hours for transferring are from 9 to 1 on the days above-mentioned,
and for receiving the dividends, from 9 to 11, and 1 to 3, every day in
the Week, except Saturday afternoon.

At the South-Sea-Houſe, in Threadneedle-street.

Dividends due

South-sea flock, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday Jan. 5th, July 11th

Old annuities, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday April 5th, Oct. 10th

New annuities, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday Jan. 5th, July 5th

3 per cents. 1751, Tuesday and Thursday Jan. 5th, July 5th

The hours for transferring are from 9 to 1 on the days abovementioned,
and for receiving dividends, from 9 to 12, and 1 to 3, every day, ex-
cept Saturday afternoon.

Eaſt-India-Houſe, in Leadenhall-street.

Dividends due

India bonds. 3 per cent.

April 5th Oct. 10th

India flock, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday Jan. 5th, July 5th

India annuities, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday April 5th, Oct. 10th

Hours of transfer are, from 9 to 1, Tuesdays and Thursdays, and 9 to 12,
Saturday, payment of dividends 9 to 12, and 3 to 5, every day.

N. B. No buſinſes done at either of the above places, on Saturday after one of the clock.

Y

Daily