the court of Versailles on account of my arrival, and that both amongst the French and English ladies: the latter of whom are the humble servile imitators of the former; which tends so to chagrin some, and give pleasure to others of them; that by this means contentions run very high among the French ladies. One part complains of the English, as no more than the apes of the French; these are they who would monopolise all the finery to themselves; therefore their censure of the English ladies is not to be regarded the others boast of their superiority, and are not a little proud of their dominion over the fair Anglicans; who, they suppose, dare not attempt to introduce so much as the pattern of an head-dress, till it hath had the approbation of the French. But to drop this for the present, Avaro, I shall be glad to hear the story you mentioned before we parted.

AVAR. It was this, sir, There was a gentleman in Provence, a steady member of the holy Roman catholic church, who died lately, and as soon as dead, his pious relations made his death known to their reverences the priests, in order to procure their good offices, in behalf of their departed friend, whose soul, it was upon no ill ground feared, was hardly white enough for heaven, and would therefore be obliged to call at Purgatory, for an effectual cleansing, ere he could proceed further upon his journey. The venerable priests no sooner heard of the gentleman's death than they prudently began to consult the good of the church, and what means appeared to them the most likely to feather their own nest; as this must needs be done, either by the life or death of the laity. This being their sole intent, it was unanimously agreed to refer themselves to my direction, and an interview in the apartments of the principal was requested. Being at that time in the neighbourhood, I immediately granted their petition, and presented myself among them, in the principal's chambers; a place very familiar to me. The reverend old father was no sooner aware of my arrival, than he arose from his seat, fell prostrate before me, to do me humble greeting, withal expressing the most grateful sense of my care and condescension, in coming so soon to their assistance.

Humble salutation past, the principal addressed me in the following learned manner, " Worshipful Prudence," for that is the name I am known by among them, "we have an affair of great importance to lay before you; and with the profoundest humility will we thank you for your advice."

FAST. Nay, Avaro, if you talk any thing about that same humility, I'll not stay a moment longer, for I hate the nature of it.

AVAR. You need not be offended, sir, for the gentlemen in question have as little of that as your heart could wish for. It is not the nature but the mere name of humility which serve the purposes of priestcraft; and which he and his brethren si

much admired. And you know, sir, that the name without the nature of humility is nothing but pride in disguise.

FAST. Well, I am glad they have no more of it, for that humility is a fellow whom I abhor; but, I thank my stars, it is very seldom that I meet with him: however, when he and I do meet, we as naturally quarrel as the elephant and the rhinoceros.

AVAR. I assured them of my assistance, and the old parson went on with his story, "Oh! thou priest-governing spirit, said ne, thou must know, that about eleven of the clock, last night, a neighbouring gentleman went out of this into the other world, leaving behind him an estate, of upwards of ten thousand pounds per annum, devolving to an only son, and to this convent has left no more than fourscore crowns, for the salutary work of delivering his poor soul from the dreadful flames of purgatory. I do not know, indeed, but our great lady, whom we serve, might be satisfied with half the sum; but we thy servants are not so easily pleased. It is our pious desire to procure as much of the young man's estate, as by any means we can, for our own private use; as none of us can tell what we may want before we die. Besides, we do not know but so large an estate, devolving unencumbered upon him, may be the means of ruining the soul and body of the inexperienced youth. Now, we, as the holy guardians of his salvation, think it necessary, for the good of his soul, to cut off as much as we can of the fuel of his lusts; well knowing how dangerous riches are to the laity. Thus, great patron, I have revealed the pious intent of our venerable brotherhood; and, lovely spirit, if thou canst by thy advice serve us in this matter, we entreat thee to do it; for our eyes are to thee, and our hearts are open to receive thy instructions."

FAST. Who could have thought, Avaro, of any of your disciples being disposed to such exalted piety? However, it was piety of the true Romish stamp, greatly admired by the venerable clergy.

AVAR. "Well, said I, most reverend father, let not your pious mind be afflicted about the young gentleman's soul. Let you and your worthy brethren observe my instructions, and I shall undertake to put you in possession of the greatest part of his estate; which, as you justly observe, will greatly redound to the safety of his soul.

"Be sure that you bury the old gentleman with as much seeming sorrow and devotion as might be expected from a well paid parson; yea, with as much feigned courtesy to the heir, as if the deceased had left you five hundred pounds. Then be sure to say mass for him to your lady, St. Dominic, St. Francis, or to the saint of your convent, as soon as possible. That being done, let a skilful messenger from your reverences wait on the son and heir, to tell him that, alas! his poor father is got much deeper into purgatory, than was expected, on account of some sins

which he nad concealed from his confessor; which sins, because they are hidden, will take a great deal of burning, unless expiated in time, by frequent masses. Tell him that you are not certain, but you hope, about two hundred crowns, laid out in masses to some favourite, loquacious saint, may go near to procure his deliverance. This news will probably so surprise the youth that the messenger will receive the money, and his hearty prayers into the bargain: for if he is a good churchman, it will not be easy to persuade him that your reverences only aim at picking his pockets.

"Having received the money, you must take care not to go any more to the young gentleman, till the time that all the masses might have been said: then go to him again, and tell him that by fervent application you have at last got his father's soul within a few yards of the surface of the flames, that you cannot possibly restore him an inch farther till more masses are said for him; and that you think an hundred crowns' worth more may, in all probability, clear him: this being received, take care not to visit him again too soon, but wait till another quantity of masses might have been said. At a proper time, go to him again, expatiate much upon the piety of your brethren; tell him, that by their endeavours, his father was quite discharged from the court of Purgatory, and was just going to be turned out at the heaven end of the town, when it happened, most unluckily, that there came up the soul of a woman, whom he had debauched in his lifetime; that this malicious woman had brought an action against him, the bill was found, and the poor old gentleman condemned to fiercer burnings than before, which may last for many years, unless a speedy supply of money is granted to procure friends in heaven to intercede for his release. This scheme will procure you double the former sums: you know, father, hidden sins take a great deal of burning.

"Six or eight months afterwards, go to the young gentleman again, and tell him that you laid out his last money to the best advantage; that with it you procured half a dozen of the best orators in heaven, to plead his father's cause, who, by their fervent supplications, had at last prevailed; that the old gentleman was delivered from his torments, and was led in triumph to the gates, to be dispatched immediately for glory. But, as his unlucky stars would have it, just as the porter opened the gate, there came up the soul of a mendicant friar, whom the old gentleman had in his lifetime unhappily beat, and now openly accused him of this almost unpardonable crime: on which account he was remanded back to more exquisite torments than ever. Tell the young gentleman that this unhappy accident caused such grief to the brethren, there is hardly any one of them able to say Avc Maria; and that some of them intend, as soon as their strength