ts inaccuracies; others had
seen it in a state so imperfect, that they could not forbear to wonder
at its present excellence; some had conversed with the author at the
coffeehouse; and others gave hints that they had lent him money.

I knew that no performance is so favourably read as that of a writer who
suppresses his name, and therefore resolved to remain concealed, till
those by whom literary reputation is established had given their
suffrages too publickly to retract them. At length my bookseller
informed me that Aurantius, the standing patron of merit, had sent
inquiries after me, and invited me to his acquaintance.

The time which I had long expected was now arrived. I went to Aurantius
with a beating heart, for I looked upon our interview as the critical
moment of my destiny. I was received with civilities which my academick
rudeness made me unable to repay; but when I had recovered from my
confusion, I prosecuted the conversation with such liveliness and
propriety, that I confirmed my new friend in his esteem of my abilities,
and was dismissed with the utmost ardour of profession, and raptures of
fondness.

I was soon summoned to dine with Aurantius, who had assembled the most
judicious of his friends to partake of the entertainment. Again I
exerted my powers of sentiment and expression, and again found every eye
sparkling with delight, and every tongue silent with attention. I now
became familiar at the table of Aurantius, but could never, in his most
private or jocund hours, obtain more from him than general declarations
of esteem, or endearments of tenderness, which included no particular
promise, and therefore conferred no claim. This frigid reserve somewhat
disgusted me, and when he complained of three days absence, I took care
to inform him with how much importunity of kindness I had been detained
by his rival Pollio.

Aurantius now considered his honour as endangered by the desertion of a
wit, and, lest I should have an inclination to wander, told me that I
could never find a friend more constant and zealous than himself; that
indeed he had made no promises, because he hoped to surprise me with
advancement, but had been silently promoting my interest, and should
continue his good offices, unless he found the kindness of others more
desired.

If you, Mr. Rambler, have ever ventured your philosophy within the
attraction of greatness, you know the force of such language introduced
with a smile of grac