uch power over her,
that she would certainly become either poor or infamous.

From the time that my leading-strings were taken off, I scarce heard any
mention of my beauty but from the milliner, the mantua-maker, and my own
maid; for my mamma never said more, when she heard me commended, but
"the girl is very well," and then endeavoured to divert my attention by
some inquiry after my needle, or my book.

It is now three months since I have been suffered to pay and receive
visits, to dance at publick assemblies, to have a place kept for me in
the boxes, and to play at lady Racket's rout; and you may easily imagine
what I think of those who have so long cheated me with false
expectations, disturbed me with fictitious terrours, and concealed from
me all that I have found to make the happiness of woman.

I am so far from perceiving the usefulness or necessity of books, that
if I had not dropped all pretensions to learning, I should have lost Mr.
Trip, whom I once frighted into another box, by retailing some of
Dryden's remarks upon a tragedy; for Mr. Trip declares, that he hates
nothing like hard words, and I am sure, there is not a better partner to
be found; his very walk is a dance. I have talked once or twice among
ladies about principles and ideas, but they put their fans before their
faces, and told me I was too wise for them, who for their part never
pretended to read any thing but the play-bill, and then asked me the
price of my best head.

Those vacancies of time which are to be filled up with books I have
never vet obtained; for, consider, Mr. Rambler, I go to bed late, and
therefore cannot rise early; as soon as I am up, I dress for the
gardens; then walk in the park; then always go to some sale or show, or
entertainment at the little theatre; then must be dressed for dinner;
then must pay my visits; then walk in the park; then hurry to the play;
and from thence to the card-table. This is the general course of the
day, when there happens nothing extraordinary; but sometimes I ramble
into the country, and come back again to a ball; sometimes I am engaged
for a whole day and part of the night. If, at any time, I can gain an
hour by not being at home, I have so many things to do, so many orders
to give to the milliner, so many alterations to make in my clothes, so
many visitants' names to read over, so many invitations to accept or
refuse, so many cards to write, and so many fashions to consider, that I
am lost