deed, I
did not willingly trust him any longer; for he often mistook the price
of goods to his own loss, and once gave a promissory note instead of a
receipt.

I did not know to what degree he was corrupted, till an honest tailor
gave me notice that he had bespoke a laced suit, which was to be left
for him at a house kept by the sister of one of my journeymen. I went to
this clandestine lodging, and found, to my amazement, all the ornaments
of a fine gentleman, which I know not whether he has taken upon credit,
or purchased with money subducted from the shop.

This detection has made him desperate. He now openly declares his
resolution to be a gentleman; says that his soul is too great for a
counting-house; ridicules the conversation of city taverns; talks of new
plays, and boxes and ladies; gives duchesses for his toasts; carries
silver, for readiness, in his waistcoat-pocket; and comes home at night
in a chair, with such thunders at the door, as have more than once
brought the watchmen from their stands.

Little expenses will not hurt us; and I could forgive a few juvenile
frolicks, if he would be careful of the main; but his favourite topick
is contempt of money, which, he says, is of no use but to be spent.
Riches, without honour, he holds empty things; and once told me to my
face, that wealthy plodders were only purveyors to men of spirit.

He is always impatient in the company of his old friends, and seldom
speaks till he is warmed with wine; he then entertains us with accounts
that we do not desire to hear, of intrigues among lords and ladies, and
quarrels between officers of the guards; shows a miniature on his
snuff-box, and wonders that any man can look upon the new dancer without
rapture.

All this is very provoking; and yet all this might be borne, if the boy
could support his pretensions. But, whatever he may think, he is yet far
from the accomplishments which he has endeavoured to purchase at so dear
a rate. I have watched him in publick places. He sneaks in like a man
that knows he is where he should not be; he is proud to catch the
slightest salutation, and often claims it when it is not intended. Other
men receive dignity from dress, but my booby looks always more meanly
for his finery. Dear Mr. Idler, tell him what must at last become of a
fop, whom pride will not suffer to be a trader, and whom long habits in
a shop forbid to be a gentleman.

I am, Sir, &c.

TIM WAINSCOT.

No. 96. SAT