ing up the acquaintance, by
observing, in each family, practices which, though very different,
almost equally revolted me.

In one, where the young ladies had large fortunes, they insinuated
themselves into the admiration, and invited the familiarity, of young
men, by attentions the most flattering, and civilities the most
alluring. When they had made sure of their aim, and the admirers were
encouraged to make proposals, the ladies burst out into a loud laugh,
wondered what the man could mean; they never dreamt of any thing more
than common politeness; then petrified them with distant looks, and
turned about to practice the same arts on others.

The other family in which I thought I had secured an agreeable intimacy,
I instantly deserted on observing the gracious and engaging reception
given by the ladies to more than one libertine of the most notorious
profligacy. The men were handsome, and elegant, and fashionable, and had
figured in newspapers and courts of justice. This degrading popularity
rather attracted than repelled attention; and while the guilty
associates in their crimes were shunned with abhorrence by these very
ladies, the specious undoers were not only received with complaisance,
but there was a sort of competition who should be most strenuous in
their endeavors to attract them. Surely women of fashion can hardly make
a more corrupt use of influence, a talent for which they will be
peculiarly accountable. Surely, mere personal purity can hardly deserve
the name of virtue in those who can sanction notoriously vicious
characters, which their reprobation, if it could not reform, would at
least degrade.

On a further acquaintance, I found Sir John and Lady Belfield to be
persons of much worth. They were candid, generous, and sincere. They saw
the errors of the world in which they lived, but had not resolution to
emancipate themselves from its shackles. They partook, indeed, very
sparingly of its diversions, not so much because they suspected their
evil tendency, as because they were weary of them, and because they had
better resources in themselves.

Indeed, it is wonderful that more people from mere good sense and just
taste, without the operation of any religious consideration, do not,
when the first ardor is cooled, perceive the futility of what is called
pleasure, and decline it as the man declines the amusements of the
child. But fashionable society produces few persons, who, like the
ex-courtier of