[A like [3]] Impertinence is also very troublesome to the superior and
more intelligent Part of the fair Sex. It is, it seems, a great
Inconvenience, that those of the meanest Capacities will pretend to make
Visits, tho' indeed they are qualify'd rather to add to the Furniture of
the House (by filling an empty Chair) than to the Conversation they come
into when they visit. A Friend of mine hopes for Redress in this Case,
by the Publication of her Letter in my Paper; which she thinks those she
would be rid of will take to themselves. It seems to be written with an
Eye to one of those pert giddy unthinking Girls, who, upon the
Recommendation only of an agreeable Person and a fashionable Air, take
themselves to be upon a Level with Women of the greatest Merit.
Madam,
'I take this Way to acquaint you with what common Rules and Forms
would never permit me to tell you otherwise; to wit, that you and I,
tho' Equals in Quality and Fortune, are by no Means suitable
Companions. You are, 'tis true, very pretty, can dance, and make a
very good Figure in a publick Assembly; but alass, Madam, you must go
no further; Distance and Silence are your best Recommendations;
therefore let me beg of you never to make me any more Visits. You come
in a literal Sense to see one, for you have nothing to say. I do not
say this that I would by any Means lose your Acquaintance; but I would
keep it up with the Strictest Forms of good Breeding. Let us pay
Visits, but never see one another: If you will be so good as to deny
your self always to me, I shall return the Obligation by giving the
same Orders to my Servants. When Accident makes us meet at a third
Place, we may mutually lament the Misfortune of never finding one
another at home, go in the same Party to a Benefit-Play, and smile at
each other and put down Glasses as we pass in our Coaches. Thus we may
enjoy as much of each others Friendship as we are capable: For there
are some People who are to be known only by Sight, with which sort of
Friendship I hope you will always honour,
Madam,
Your most obedient humble Servant,
Mary Tuesday.
P.S. I subscribe my self by the Name of the Day I keep, that my
supernumerary Friends may know who I am.
[Footnote 1: these People]
[Footnote 2: Clinch of Barnet, whose place of performance was at the
corner of Bartholomew Lane, behind the Royal Exchange, imitated,
according to his own advertisement,
'the Horses, the Huntsmen and a Pack of Hounds, a Sham Doctor, an old
Woman, the Bells, the Flute, the Double Curtell (or bassoon) and the
Organ,--all with his own Natural Voice, to the greatest perfection.'