and lay as the clod of the valley before me. Her body I depofited in the next churchyard, and immediately after, rid as fast as I could to London, to lofe thought in diffipation, and refign the better to the decree. For fome days I lived at the inn I fet up at, but as foon as I could, went into a lodging, and it happened to be at the house of the famous Curl the bookfeller; a man well known in the Dunciad, and Pope's letters to his friends, on account of Curl's frauds in purchafing and printing ftolen copies of Mr. Pope's works. It is in relation to these tricks, that Pope mentions Curl in his Dunciad and Letters. A fuccinct history of him I shall here give: but had I complied with his requests, it would have been a long relation, to the advantage and glory of this extraordinary man : For he came one morning into my closet, with an apron full of papers; being letters, memorandums, parodies, and notes, written by or concerning himself; and requested I would, on a good confideration, write his life, to his profit and honour, and make it a five fhilling book. That I faid was not then in my power to do: but I would, one time or other, give the public a true account of him, ́mari, de qui la douleur m'eft plus difficile à fupporter que ma propre mort. Que la terre te foit legere, ô épouse digne de retourner à la vie, et de recouvrer un jour que tu a perdu ! N. B. The reader who does not understand French, will find this in English at the end of this XIth Section. The pic ture and and make it conclude I hoped to the glory of his character. Here it is. §. 2. CURL was in perfon very tall and thin, character an ungainly, aukward, white-faced man. His of Curl the eyes were a light-grey, large, projecting, gogle and pur-blind. He was fplay-footed, and baker-kneed. Bookfeller. He had a good natural understanding, and was well acquainted with more than the title pages of books. He talked well on fome fubjects. He was not an infidel as Mrs. Rowe mifreprefents him in one of her letters to lady Hartford, (afterwards Dutchefs of Somerfet). He told ine, it was quite evident to him, that the fcriptures of the Old and New Teftament contained a real revelation. There is for it a rational, a natural, a traditionary, and a fupernatural testimony; which rendered it quite certain to him. He said, he no more doubted the truth of the christian religion, than he did the existence of an independent fupreme Creator; but he did not believe the expofitions given by the divines. So far Curl was right enough. His fault was, that with fuch a belief, he took no pains with his heart. Trufting intirely to the merits of the Saviour, like too many other mistaken chriftians, he had no notion of religion as an invifible thing within us, called the kingdom of God: He did not even consider it as a good outside thing, that recom recommends a man to his fellow-creatures. He was a debauchee to the last degree, and fo injurious to fociety, that by filling his tranflations with wretched notes, forged letters, and bad pictures, he raised the price of a four fhilling book to ten. Thus, in particular, he managed Burnet's Archiology: And when I told him he was very culpable in this, and other articles he fold, his answer was, What would I have him do? He was a bookfeller. His tranflators in pay, lay three in a bed, at the Pewter-Platter Inn in Holborn, and he and they were for ever at work, to deceive the Public. He likewife printed the lewdeft things. He loft his ears for the Nun in her Smock, and another thing. As to drink, he was too fond of money, to spend any in making himself happy that way; but at another's expence, he would drink every day till he was quite blind, and as incapable of felf-motion as a block. This was Edmund Curl: But he died at laft as great a penitent, (I think in the year 1748) as ever expired. I mention this to his glory, As Curl knew the world well, and was acquainted with feveral extraordinary characters, he was of great ufe to me at my first coming to town, as I knew nobody, nor any place. He gave me the true characters of many I saw, told me whom I should avoid, and with whom I might be free. He brought me to the play-houfes, and gave me a judi The picture of Ca cious account of every actor. He underftood those things well. No man could talk better on theatrical fubjects. He brought me likewife to Sadler's Wells, to the night-cellars, and to Tom King's, the famous night-house at Covent Garden. As he was very knowing, and well-known at fuch places, he foon made me as wife as himself in these branches of learning; and, in fhort, in the space of a month, I was as well acquainted in London, as if I had been there for years. My kind preceptor fpared no pains in lecturing. But what of all things I thought moft wonderful was the company I faw at the Sieur Curl's. As he was intimate with all the high whores in town, many of them frequented his fhop, to buy his dialogues, and other lively books. Some of these girls he often afked to dine with him, and then I was fure to be a gueft. Many very fine women I thereby faw, but none worth mentioning, till Carola Bennet arrived. She did furprize me. Her mind and body were very wonderful, and I imagine a defcription of her, and her story afterward will not be ungrateful to my readers. §. 3. Carola Bennet was at this time in the rola Bennet, two and twentieth year of her age, a dazzling beauty in the height of life and vigour. Her eyes were black and amazingly fine: Her mouth charming: Her neck and breaft very beautiful beautiful: Her ftature was just what it ought to be. She had a glow of health, a luscious air, and a bewitching vivacity: Her manners were wonderfully winning, and the tone of her voice so sweet and infinuating, that her words and looks went directly to the heart. She had read many books of gaiety, wit, and humour; efpecially the French; and talked delightfully on fuch fubjects. She sang to perfection but her conversation was too free, and fhe feemed to have no fenfe of any religion. It was a fine entertainment to be in her company, as I often was, yet I could. not help fighing, to fee fo many perfections on the brink of everlasting deftruction.-This young lady all of a fudden disappeared. Curl knew not what was become of her: but as I rid ten years after through Devonshire, in the fineft part of that romantic county, I faw her one morning, (as I ftopped to water my horfe in a brook that ran from a park,) fitting on a feat, under a vast beautiful cedar tree, with a book in her hand. I thought I was no ftranger to the fine face, and as I was pretty near to her, I called out, and asked, if fhe was not Mifs Bennet? She knew me at once, and pointing to a gate that was only latched, defired I would come to her. I went and found the was the mistress of the fine feat at a small distance off. She brought me into the house, would not suffer me to C C ftir 1 |