As a rake among men is the man who lives in the constant abuse of his reason, so a coquette among women is one who lives in continual misapplication of her beauty.  The chief of all whom I have the honour to be acquainted with, is pretty Mrs. Toss:  she is ever in practice of something which disfigures her, and takes from her charms; though all she does, tends to a contrary effect.  She has naturally a very agreeable voice and utterance, which she has changed for the prettiest lisp imaginable.  She sees what she has a mind to see, at half a mile distance; but poring with her eyes half shut at every one she passes by, she believes much more becoming.  The Cupid on her fan and she have their eyes full on each other, all the time in which they are not both in motion.  Whenever her eye is turned from that dear object, you may have a glance, and your bow, if she is in humour, returned as civilly as you make it; but that must not be in the presence of a man of greater quality:  for Mrs. Toss is so thoroughly well bred, that the chief person present has all her regards.  And she, who giggles at divine service, and laughs at her very mother, can compose herself at the approach of a man of a good estate.

Will’s Coffee-house, June 9.

A fine lady showed a gentleman of this company, for an eternal answer to all his addresses, a paper of verses, with which she is so captivated, that she professed, the author should be the happy man in spite of all other pretenders.  It is ordinary for love to make men poetical, and it had that effect on this enamoured man:  but he was resolved to try his vein upon some of her confidantes or retinue, before he ventured upon so high a theme as herself.  To do otherwise than so, would be like making an heroic poem a man’s first attempt.  Among the favourites to the fair one, he found her parrot not to be in the last degree:  he saw Poll had her ear, when his sighs were neglected.  To write against him, had been a fruitless labour; therefore he resolved to flatter him into his interests, in the following manner: 

#"To a Lady on her Parrot.#

"When nymphs were coy, and love could not prevail, The gods disguised were seldom known to fail, Leda was chaste, but yet a feathered Jove Surprised the fair, and taught her how to love.  There’s no celestial but his heaven would quit, For any form which might to thee admit.  See how the wanton bird, at every glance, Swells his glad plumes, and feels an amorous trance.  The queen of beauty has forsook the dove, Henceforth the parrot be the bird of love."

It is indeed a very just proposition, to give that honour rather to the parrot than the other volatile.  The parrot represents us in the state of making love:  the dove in the possession of the object beloved.  But instead of turning the dove off, I fancy it would be better if the chaise of Venus had hereafter a parrot added (as we see sometimes a third horse to a coach) which might intimate, that to be a parrot, is the only way to succeed; and to be a dove, to preserve your conquests.  If the swain would go on successfully, he must imitate the bird he writes upon.  For he who would be loved by women, must never be silent before the favour, or open his lips after it.