lls, and
making treats and entertainments; and is so much _above_ the conduct
which mostly recommends a young lady to the esteem of the deserving
of the other sex, that no gentleman, who prefers solid happiness, can
think of addressing her, though she is a fine person, and has many
outward graces of behaviour. She becomes the favourite toast of the
place she frequents, is proud of that distinction; gives the fashion,
and delights in the pride, that she can make apes in imitation,
whenever she pleases. But yet endeavouring to avoid being thought
proud, makes herself cheap, and is the subject of the attempts of
every coxcomb of eminence; and with much ado, preserves her virtue,
though not her character.

"What, all this while, is poor Profusiana doing? She would be glad,
perhaps, of a suitable proposal, and would, it may be, give up some
of her gaieties and extravagances: for Profusiana has wit, and is not
totally destitute of reason, when she suffers herself to think. But
her conduct procures her not one solid friendship, and she has not
in a twelvemonth, among a thousand professions of service, one devoir
that she can attend to, or a friend that she can depend upon. All the
women she sees, if she excels them, hate her: the gay part of the men,
with whom she accompanies most, are all in a plot against her honour.
Even the gentlemen, whose conduct in the general is governed by
principles of virtue, come down to these public places to partake of
the innocent freedoms allowed there, and oftentimes give themselves
airs of gallantry, and never have it in their thoughts to commence a
treaty of marriage with an acquaintance begun upon that gay spot. What
solid friendships and satisfactions then is Profusiana excluded from!

"Her name indeed is written in every public window, and prostituted,
as I may call it, at the pleasure of every profligate or sot, who
wears a diamond to engrave it: and that it may be, with most vile and
barbarous imputations and freedoms of words, added by rakes, who very
probably never exchanged a syllable with her. The wounded trees are
perhaps also taught to wear the initials of her name, linked, not
unlikely, and widening as they grow, with those of a scoundrel. But
all this while she makes not the least impression upon one noble
heart: and at last, perhaps, having run on to the end of an
uninterrupted race of follies, she is cheated into the arms of some
vile fortune-hunter; who quickly lavishes awa