No. 627. Wednesday, December 1, 1714.

Tantum inter densas umbrosa cacumine fagos Assidue veniebat; ibi hác incondita solus Montibus et Sylvis studio jactabat inani.'

The following Account, which came to my Hands some time ago, may be no disagreeable Entertainment to such of my Readers, as have tender Hearts and nothing to do.


'A Friend of mine died of a Feaver last Week, which he caught by walking too late in a dewy Evening amongst his Reapers. I must inform you that his greatest Pleasure was in Husbandry and Gardening. He had some Humours which seemed inconsistent with that good Sense he was otherwise Master of. His Uneasiness in the Company of Women was very remarkable in a Man of such perfect Good-breeding, and his avoiding one particular Walk in his Garden, where he had used to pass the greatest Part of his Time, raised abundance of idle Conjectures in the Village where he lived. Upon looking over his Papers we found out the Reason, which he never intimated to his nearest Friends. He was, it seems, a passionate Lover in his Youth, of which a large Parcel of Letters he left behind him are a Witness. I send you a Copy of the last he ever wrote upon that Subject, by which you will find that he concealed the true Name of his Mistress under that of Zelinda.

'A long Month's Absence would be insupportable to me, if the
Business I am employed in were not for the Service of my_ Zelinda_,
and of such a Nature as to place her every Moment in my Mind. I have
furnished the House exactly according to your Fancy, or, if you
please, my own; for I have long since learned to like nothing but
what you do. The Apartment designed for your Use is so exact a Copy
of that which you live in, that I often think my self in your House
when I step into it, but sigh when I find it without its proper
Inhabitant. You will have the most delicious Prospect from your
Closet-window that_ England _affords: I am sure I should think it
so, if the Landskip that shows such Variety did not at the same time
suggest to me the Greatness of the Space that lies between us.
'The Gardens are laid out very beautifully; I have dressed up every
Hedge in Woodbines, sprinkled Bowers and Arbours in every Corner,
and made a little Paradise round me; yet I am still like the first
Man in his Solitude, but half blest without a Partner in my
Happiness. I have directed one Walk to be made for two Persons,
where I promise ten thousand Satisfactions to my self in your
Conversation. I already take my Evening's Turn in it, and have worn
a Path upon the Edge of this little Alley, while I soothed my self
with the Thought of your walking by my Side. I have held many
imaginary Discourses with you in this Retirement; and when I have
been weary have sat down with you in the midst of a Row of
Jessamines. The many Expressions of Joy and Rapture I use in these
silent Conversations have made me for some Time the Talk of the
Parish; but a neighbouring young Fellow, who makes Love to the
Farmer's Daughter, hath found me out, and made my Case known to the
whole Neighbourhood.
'In planting of the Fruit-Trees I have not forgot the Peach you are
so fond of. I have made a Walk of Elms along the River Side, and
intend to sow all the Place about it with Cowslips, which I hope you
will like as well as that I have heard you talk of by your Father's
House in the Country.
'Oh!_ Zelinda, _What a Scheme of Delight have I drawn up in my
Imagination! What Day-Dreams do I indulge my self in! When will the
Six Weeks be at an End, that lye between me and my promised
'How could you break off so abruptly in your last, and tell me you
must go and dress for the Play? If you loved as I do, you would find
no more Company in a Crowd, than I have in my Solitude._
'I am, _&c._'

'On the Back of this Letter is written, in the Hand of the Deceased, the following Piece of History.

Mem. _Having waited a whole Week for an Answer to this Letter, I
hurried to Town, where I found the Perfidious Creature married to my
Rival. I will bear it as becomes a Man, and endeavour to find out
Happiness for my self in that Retirement, which I had prepared in
vain for a false ungrateful Woman._

I am, &c.

Translation of motto:
VIRG. Ecl. ii. 3.
'He underneath the beechen shade, alone.
Thus to the woods and mountains made his moan.'