SIR,

'Since I find you take Notice of Clubs, I beg Leave to give you an

Account of one in _Oxford_, which you have no where mention'd, and

perhaps never heard of. We distinguish our selves by the Title of the

_Amorous Club_, are all Votaries of _Cupid_, and Admirers of the Fair

Sex. The Reason that we are so little known in the World, is the

Secrecy which we are obliged to live under in the University. Our

Constitution runs counter to that of the Place wherein we live: For in

Love there are no Doctors, and we all profess so high Passion, that we

admit of no Graduates in it. Our Presidentship is bestow'd according

to the Dignity of Passion; our Number is unlimited; and our Statutes

are like those of the Druids, recorded in our own Breasts only, and

explained by the Majority of the Company. A Mistress, and a Poem in

her Praise, will introduce any Candidate: Without the latter no one

can be admitted; for he that is not in love enough to rhime, is

unqualified for our Society. To speak disrespectfully of any Woman, is

Expulsion from our gentle Society. As we are at present all of us

Gown-men, instead of duelling when we are Rivals, we drink together

the Health of our Mistress. The Manner of doing this sometimes indeed

creates Debates; on such Occasions we have Recourse to the Rules of

Love among the Antients.

'Naevia sex Cyathis, septem Justina bibatur.'

This Method of a Glass to every Letter of her Name, occasioned the

other Night a Dispute of some Warmth. A young Student, who is in Love

with Mrs. _Elizabeth Dimple_, was so unreasonable as to begin her

Health under the Name of _Elizabetha_; which so exasperated the Club,

that by common Consent we retrenched it to _Betty_. We look upon a Man

as no Company, that does not sigh five times in a Quarter of an Hour;

and look upon a Member as very absurd, that is so much himself as to

make a direct Answer to a Question. In fine, the whole Assembly is

made up of absent Men, that is, of such Persons as have lost their

Locality, and whose Minds and Bodies never keep Company with one

another. As I am an unfortunate Member of this distracted Society, you

cannot expect a very regular Account of it; for which Reason, I hope

you will pardon me that I so abruptly subscribe my self,

Sir,

Your most obedient,

humble Servant,

The Spectator, Volume 1 Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays · 第 101 / 351 题