THE BIRTH OF THE ROSE *. WHEN Venus, (fo her poet fung) White as the foam from which the rofe- And, ftretch'd beneath the verdant gloom, While still the thorns and fweets declare The followers of the falacious Mohammed are faid to believe that the first rofe fprung out of a drop of his sweat. ADVERTISEMENT. TO THE FOURTH EDITION. Many purchasers of the first and fecond editions fuggefted through the Publifher to the Editor that "The Birth of the Rofe," which originally occupied this page, however beautiful in itself, and however natural for Mr. H. to cummunicate to Mifs was written with too free a pen for the perufal of those who might otherwise derive ideas of morality, and even of religion, from thefe letters. The Editor's only wish, in the publication of thefe Letters, was to ferve religion and morality. At the first hint, he determined to take the liberty (the only one he has taken) with Mr. H's. Letters, of omitting the poem in question. It did not appear in the third edition. Were it poffible that a fyllable which remains could give offence, it fhould remain no longer; for not only the Editor, but his unfortunate friend H. would heartily fay with Pope, and as well of profe as of verse, Curft be the verfe, how well foe'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe; Or from the foft-ey'd virgin fteal a tear! The Publishers, however, of this volume, in order to accommodate every clafs of readers, have printed "The Birth of the Rofe" upon a feparate, but uniform page. "Love and Madness" may be had either with or without it. LETTER IX. To Mr. H. Christmas-day, 75. My old friend the Corporal looked as if he had been tarred and feathered yesterday, when he arrived with your dear billet. Omiah tðok up the fugar-cafter, when he faw him through the parlour window, and powdered a fresh flice of pudding, by way of painting the fnowy corporal. Omiah's fimplicity is certainly very diverting, but I fhould like him better, and take more pains with him, if I did not think he suspected fomething. The other day I am fure he came. to fpy the nakedness of the land. Thank Heayen, our caution prevented him. But, why do I call your billet dear, when it contained fuch Poetry? Yet, to confefs the truth, it did charm me. And I know not, whether, as you fay, thofe, to whom it could do any harm,could poffibly underfland it. For uninitiated means, I believe, not yet admitted into the mysteries-thofe who have not yet taken the veil; or, I should rather fay, those who have not yet thrown off the veil. Why was I not permitted by by my destiny to keep on mine, till my H. my Mars feiz'd me in his ardent arms? How gladly to his arms would I have given up my very foul! Cruel fortune, that it can't be fo to-day! But we forgot, when we fixed on to-day, that it would be Christmas-day. I must do penance at a most unpleasant dinner, as indeed is every meal and every scene when you are absentand that, without the confolation of having first enjoyed your company. To-morrow, however, at the usual time and place. ̧ Your discontinuing your vifits here, fince the first day of our happiness, gratifies the delicacy of us both. Yet, may it not, my H., raise fufpicions elsewhere? Your agreeable qualities were too confpicuous not to make you missed. Yet, you are the best judge. My poor, innocent, helpless babes! Were it not on your account, your mother would not act the part he does.-What is Mrs. Yates's fuftaining a character well for one evening? Is it fo trying as to play a part, and a base one too, morning, noon, and night?-Night! But I will not make my H. uneasy. At least, allow that I have written you a long fcrawl. Behold, I have fent you a tolerable good fubftitute for myself. It is reckoned very like. I need |