en
in your Paper where they may be had with Directions, Price 2_d_. and
that part of the Directions may be, when any Person presumes to be
guilty of the above-mentioned Crime, the Party aggrieved may produce
it to his Face, with a Request to read it to the Company. He must be
very much hardened that could outface that Rebuke; and his further
Punishment I leave you to prescribe.

_Your humble Servant_,
Penance Cruel.

T. [1]

[Footnote 1: To this number is appended the advertisement:

This Day is Published,

a very neat Pocket Edition of the 3rd and 4th Volumes of the Spectator
in 12 deg.. To which is added a compleat Index to the whole 4 volumes.
Printed for S. Buckley at the Dolphin in Little Britain and J. Tonson
at Shakespear's Head over against Catherine Street in the Strand.]

* * * * *

No. 534. Wednesday, November 12, 1712. Steele.

'--Rarus enim ferme sensus communis in illa
Fortuna--'

Juv.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'I am a young Woman of Nineteen, the only Daughter of very wealthy
Parents; and have my whole Life been used with a Tenderness which did
me no great Service in my Education. I have perhaps an uncommon Desire
for Knowledge of what is suitable to my Sex and Quality; but as far as
I can remember, the whole Dispute about me has been, whether such a
thing was proper for the Child to do, or not? Or whether such or such
Food was the more wholsome for the young Lady to eat? This was ill for
my Shape, that for my Complexion, and t'other for my Eyes. I am not
extravagant when I tell you, I do not know that I have trod upon the
very Earth since I was ten Years old: A Coach or Chair I am obliged to
for all my Motions from one Place to another ever since I can
remember. All who had to do to instruct me, have ever been bringing
Stories of the notable things I have said and the Womanly manner of my
behaving my self upon such and such an Occasion. This has been my
State, till I came towards Years of Womanhood; and ever since I grew
towards the Age of Fifteen, I have been abused after another Manner.
Now, forsooth, I am so killing, no one can safely speak to me. Our
House is frequented by Men of Sense, and I love to ask Questions when
I fall into such Conversation; but I am cut short with something or
other about my bright Eyes. There is, Sir, a Language