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THE LUCUBRATIONS OF Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq

VOL. IV.

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THE LUCUBRATIONS OF Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq

Reviſed and Corrected by the Author.

VOL. IV.

[...]
Homer.

LONDON, Printed by John Nutt, and ſold by John Morphew, near Stationers Hall. MDCCXII.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARES Lord Hallifax.

[]
My LORD,

WHEN I firſt reſolved upon doing my ſelf this Honour, I could not but indulge a certain Vanity in dating from this little Covert, where I have frequently had the Honour of your Lordſhip's Company, and received from you very many Obligations. The elegant Solitude of this Place, and [] the greateſt Pleaſures of it I owe to its being ſo near thoſe Beautiful Mannors wherein you ſometimes reſide: It is not retiring from the World, but enjoying its moſt valuable Bleſſings, when a Man is permitted to ſhare in your Lordſhip's Converſations in the Country. All the bright Images which the Wits of paſt Ages have left behind them in their Writings, the noble Plans which the greateſt Stateſmen have laid down for Adminiſtration of Affairs, are equally the familiar Objects of your Knowledge. But what is peculiar to your Lordſhip above all the illuſtrious Perſonages that have appeared in any Age, is, that Wit and Learning have from your Example fallen into a new Aera. Your Patronage has produced thoſe Arts, which before ſhunned the Commerce of the World, into the Service of Life; and it is to you we owe, that the Man of Wit has turned himſelf to be a Man of Buſineſs. The falſe Delicacy of Men of Genius, [] and the Objections which others were apt to inſinuate againſt their Abilities for entring into Affairs, have equally vaniſhed. And Experience has ſhown, that Men of Letters are not only qualify'd with a greater Capacity, but alſo a greater Integrity in the Diſpatch of Buſineſs. Your own Studies have been diverted from being the higheſt Ornament, to the higheſt Uſe to Mankind, and the Capacities which would have rendered you the greateſt Poet of your Age, have to the Advantage of Great Britain been employ'd in Purſuits which have made you the moſt able and unbiaſſed Patriot. A vigorous Imagination, an extenſive Apprehenſion, and a ready Judgment, have diſtinguiſhed you in all the illuſtrious Parts of Adminiſtration, in a Reign attended with ſuch Difficulties, that the ſame Talents without the ſame Quickneſs in the Poſſeſſion of them would have been incapable of Conquering. The natural Succeſs of ſuch Abilities has advanced [] you to a Seat in that illuſtrious Houſe, where you were received by a Crowd of your Relations. Great as you are in your Honours, and Perſonal Qualities, I know you will forgive, an humble Neighbour, the Vanity of pretending to a Place in your Friendſhip, and ſubſcribing himſelf,

My LORD,
Your Lordſhip's Moſt Obliged, and Moſt Devoted Servant, Richard Steele.

THE PREFACE.

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IN the laſt Tatler I promiſed ſome Explanation of Paſſages and Perſons mention'd in this Work, as well as ſome Account of the Aſſiſtances I have had in the Performance. I ſhall do this in very few Words; for when a Man has no Deſign but to ſpeak plain Truth, he may ſay a great deal in a very narrow Compaſs. I have in the Dedication of the Firſt Volume made my Acknowledgments to Dr. Swift, whoſe pleaſant Writings, in the Name of Bickerſtaff, created an Inclination in the Town towards any Thing that could appear in the ſame Diſguiſe. I muſt acknowledge alſo, that at my firſt entring upon this Work, a certain uncommon Way of Thinking, and a Turn in Converſation peculiar to that agreeable Gentleman, rendered his Company very advantageous to one whoſe Imagination was to be continually employed upon obvious and common Subjects, though at the ſame Time obliged to treat of them in a new and unbeaten Method. His Verſes on the Shower in Town, and the Deſcription of the Morning, are Inſtances of the Happineſs of that Genius, which could raiſe ſuch Pleaſing Idea's upon Occaſions ſo barren to an ordinary Invention.

[] When I am upon the Houſe of Bickerſtaff, I muſt not forget that Genealogy of the Family ſent to me by the Poſt, and written, as I ſince underſtand, by Mr. Twiſden, who died at the Battle of Mons, and has a Monument in Weſtminſter-Abbey ſuitable to the Reſpect which is due to his Wit and his Valour. There are through the Courſe of the Work very many Incidents which were written by unknown Correſpondents. Of this Kind is the Tale in the Second Tatler, and the Epiſtle from Mr. Downes the Prompter, with others which were very well received by the Publick. But I have only one Gentleman, who will be nameleſs, to thank for any frequent Aſſiſtance to me, which indeed it would have been barbarous in him to have denied to one with whom he has lived in an Intimacy from Childhood, conſidering the great Eaſe with which he is able to diſpatch the moſt entertaining Pieces of this Nature. This good Office he performed with ſuch Force of Genius, Humour, Wit and Learning, that I fared like a diſtreſſed Prince who calls in a powerful Neighbour to his Aid; I was undone by my Auxiliary; when I had once called him in, I could not ſubſiſt without Dependance on him.

The ſame Hand writ the diſtinguiſhing Characters of Men and Women under the Names of Muſical Inſtruments, the Diſtreſs of the News-Writers, the Inventory of the Playhouſe, and the Deſcription of the Thermometer, which I cannot but look upon as the greateſt Embelliſhments of this Work.

[] Thus for I thought neceſſary to ſay relating to the great Hands which have been concerned in theſe Volumes, with Relation to the Spirit and Genius of the Work; and am far from pretending to Modeſty in making this Acknowledgment. What a Man obtains from the good Opinion and Friendſhip of worthy Men, is a much greater Honour than he can poſſibly reap from any Accompliſhments of his own. But all the Credit of Wit which was given me by the Gentlemen above-mentioned (with whom I have now accounted) has not been able to attone for the Exceptions made againſt me for ſome Raillery in Behalf of that learned Advocate for the Epiſcopacy of the Church, and the Liberty of the People, Mr. Hoadley. I mention this only to defend my ſelf againſt the Imputation of being moved rather by Party than Opinion; and I think it is apparent, I have with the utmoſt Frankneſs allowed Merit wherever I found it, though joined in Intereſts different from thoſe for which I have declared my ſelf. When my Favonius is acknowledged to be Dr. Smalridge, and the amiable Character of the Dean in the Sixty ſixth Tatler drawn for Dr. Atterbury, I hope I need ſay no more as to my Impartiality.

I really have acted in theſe Caſes with Honeſty, and am concerned it ſhould be thought otherwiſe: For Wit, if a Man had it, unleſs it be directed to ſome uſeful End, is but a wanton frivolous Quality; all that one ſhould value himſelf upon in this Kind is, that he had ſome honourable Intention in it.

[] As for this Point, never Hero in Romance was carried away with a more furious Ambition to conquer Giants and Tyrants, than I have been in extirpating Gameſters and Duelliſts And indeed, like one of thoſe Knights too, though I was calm before, I am apt to fly out again, when the Thing that firſt diſturbed me is preſented to my Imagination. I ſhall therefore leave off when I am well, and fight with Windmills no more: Only ſhall be ſo Arrogant as to ſay of my ſelf, that in Spite of all the Force of Faſhion and Prejudice, in the Face of all the World, I alone bewailed the Condition of an Engliſh Gentleman, whoſe Fortune and Life are at this Day precarious; while His Eſtate is liable to the Demands of Gameſters, through a falſe Senſe of Juſtice; and to the Demands of Duelliſts, through a falſe Senſe of Honour. As to the Firſt of theſe Orders of Men, I have not one Word more to ſay of them: As to the latter, I ſhall conclude all I have more to offer aginſt them (with Reſpect to their being prompted by the Fear of Shame) by applying to the Duelliſt what I think Dr. South ſays ſomewhere of the Lyar, He is a Coward to Man, and a Brave to God.

THE [No 190. TATLER:
VOL. IV.
From Saturday June 24. to Tueſday June 27. 1710.

[1]
BY Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq
— Timeo Danaos & Dona ferentes.
Virg.

THERE are ſome Occaſions in Life, wherein Regards to a Man's ſelf is the moſt pitiful and contemptible of all Paſſions; and ſuch a Time certainly is when the true publick Spirit of a Nation is run into a Faction againſt their Friends and Benefactors. I have hinted heretofore ſome Things which diſcover the real Sorrow I am in at the Obſervation, that it is now very much ſo in Great Britain, and have had the Honour to be pelted with ſeveral Epiſtles to expoſtulate with me on that Subject. Among others, one from a Perſon of the Number of thoſe they call Quakers, who ſeems to admoniſh me out of pure Zeal and Good-will. But as there is no Character ſo unjuſt as that of talking in Party upon all Occaſions, without Reſpect to Merit or Worth on the [2] contrary Side, ſo there is no Part we can act ſo juſtifiable as to ſpeak our Mind when we ſee Things urged to Extremity, againſt all that is Praiſe-worthy or valuable in Life, upon general and groundleſs Suggeſtions. But if I have talked too frankly upon ſuch Reflections, my Correſpondent has laid before me, after his Way, the Error of it in a Manner that makes me indeed thankful for his Kindneſs, but the more inclinable to repeat the Imprudence from the Neceſſity of the Circumſtance.

Friend Iſaac,

FOraſmuch as I love thee, I cannot any longer refrain declaring my Mind unto thee concerning ſome Things. Thou didſt thy ſelf indite the Epiſtle inſerted in one of thy late Lucubrations, as thou wouldſt have us call them: For verily thy Friend of Stone, and I ſpeak according to Knowledge, hath no Fingers; and tho' he hath a Mouth, yet ſpeaketh he not therewith; nor yet did that Epiſtle at all come unto thee from the Manſion-houſe of the Scarlet Whore. It is plain therefore, that the Truth is not in thee: But ſince thou wouldſt lye, couldſt thou not lye with more Diſcretion? Wherefore ſhouldſt thou inſult over the Afflicted, or add Sorrow unto the Heavy of Heart? Truly this Gall proceedeth not from the Spirit of Meekneſs. I tell thee moreover, the People of this Land be marvelouſly given to Change; inſomuch that it may lightly come to paſs, that before thou art many Years nearer to thy Diſſolution, thou mayſt behold him ſitting on a high Place whom thou now laugheſt to Scorn: And then how wilt thou be glad to humble thy ſelf to the Ground, and lick the Duſt of his Feet, that thou mayſt find Favour in his Sight? If thou didſt meditate as much upon the Word as [3] thou doſt upon the prophane Scribblings of the wiſe Ones of this Generation, thou wouldſt have remembred what happened unto Shimei, the Son of Gera the Benjamite, who curſed the good Man David in his Diſtreſs. David pardoned his Tranſgreſſion, yet was he afterwards taken as in a Snare by the Words of his own Mouth, and fell by the Sword of Solomon the chief Ruler. Furthermore, I do not remember to have heard in the Days of my Youth and Vanity, when, like thine, my Converſation was with the Gentiles, that the Men of Rome, which is Babylon, ever ſued unto the Men of Carthage for Tranquility, as thou doſt aver: Neither was Hannibal, the Son of Hamilcar, called Home by his Countrymen, till theſe ſaw the Sword of their Enemies at their Gates; And then was it not Time for him, thinkeſt thou, to return? It appeareth therefore that thou doſt propheſy backwards, thou doſt row one Way, and look another; and indeed in all Things art thou too much a Time-ſerver; yet ſeemeſt thou not to conſider what a Day may bring forth. Think of this, and take Tobacco.

Thy Friend, Aminadab.

If the zealous Writer of the above Letter has any Meaning, it is of too high a Nature to be the Subject of my Lucubrations. I ſhall therefore wave ſuch high Points, and be as uſeful as I can to Perſons of leſs Moment than any he hints at. When a Man runs into a little Fame in the World, as he meets with a great deal of Reproach which he does not deſerve, ſo does he alſo a great deal of Eſteem to which he has in himſelf no Pretenſions. Were it otherwiſe, I am ſure no one would offer to put a Law-Caſe to me: But becauſe I am an Adept in Phyſick and Aſtrology, [4] they will needs perſwade me that I am no leſs a Proficient in all other Sciences. However, the Point mentioned in the following Letter is ſo plain a one, that I think I need not trouble my ſelf to caſt a Figure to be able to diſcuſs it.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

IT is ſome Years ago ſince the Entail of the Eſtate of our Family was altered, by paſſing a Fine in Favour of me (who now am in Poſſeſſion of it) after ſome others deceaſed. The Heirs-General, who live beyond Sea, were excluded by this Settlement, and the whole Eſtate is to paſs in a new Channel after me and my Heirs. But ſeveral Tenants of the Lordſhip perſwade me to let them hereafter hold their Lands of me according to the old Cuſtoms of the Barony, and not oblige them to act by the Limitations of the laſt Settlement. This, they ſay, will make me more popular among my Departments, and the ancient Vaſſals of the Eſtate, to whom any Deviation from the Line of Succeſſion is always invidious.

Yours, &c.
SIR,

YOU have by the Fine a plain Right, in which none elſe of your Family can be your Competitor; for which Reaſon, by all Means demand Vaſſalage upon that Title. The contrary Advice can be given for no other Purpoſe in Nature but to betray you, and favour other Pretenders, by making you place a Right which is in you only, upon a Level with a Right which you have in common with others. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt Faithful Servant till Death, I. B.

[5] There is nothing ſo dangerous or ſo pleaſing, as Compliments made to us by our Enemies: And my Correſpondent tells me, That though he knows ſeveral of thoſe who give him this Counſel were at firſt againſt paſſing the Fine in Favour of him; yet is he ſo touched with their Homage to him, that he can hardly believe they have a Mind to ſet it aſide, in order to introduce the Heirs-General into his Eſtate.

Theſe are great Evils; but ſince there is no proceeding with Succeſs in this World, without complying with the Arts of it, I ſhall uſe the ſame Method as my Correſpondent's Tenants did with him, in Relation to one whom I never had a Kindneſs for; but ſhall, notwithſtanding, preſume to give him my Advice.

Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq of Great Britain, to Lewis XIV. of France.

SIR,

YOUR Majeſty will pardon me while I take the Liberty to acquaint you, that ſome Paſſages written from your Side of the Water do very much obſtruct your Intereſts. We take it very unkindly that the Prints of Paris are ſo very partial in Favour of one Set of Men among us, and treat the others as irreconcileable to your Intereſts. Your Writers are very large in recounting any Thing which relates to the Figure and Power of one Party, but are dumb when they ſhould repreſent the Actions of the other. This is a trifling Circumſtance many here are apt to lay ſome Streſs upon; therefore I thought fit to offer it to your Conſideration before you diſpatch the next Courier.

I. B.

The TATLER. [No 191.
From Tueſday June 27. to Thurſday June 29. 1710.

[6]
— Propter Vitam vivendi perdere Cauſas.
Juv.

OF all the Evils under the Sun, that of making Vice commendable is the greateſt: For it ſeems to be the Baſis of Society, that Applauſe and Contempt ſhould be always given to proper Objects. But in this Age we behold Things for which we ought to have an Abhorrence, not only received without Diſdain, but even valued as Motives of Emulation. This is naturally the Deſtruction of Simplicity of Manners, Openneſs of Heart, and Generoſity of Temper. When one gives ones ſelf the Liberty to range, and run over in ones Thoughts the different Genius's of Men which one meets in the World, one cannot but obſerve, that moſt of the Indirection and Artifice which is uſed among Men, does not proceed ſo much from a Degeneracy in Nature, as an Affectation of appearing Men of Conſequence by ſuch Practices. By this Means it is, that a cunning Man is ſo far from being aſhamed of being eſteemed ſuch, that he ſecretly rejoices in it. It has been a Sort of Maxim, That the greateſt Art is to conceal Art; but I know not how, among ſome People we meet with, their greateſt Cunning is to appear cunning. There is Polypragmon makes it the whole Buſineſs of his Life to be thought a cunning Fellow, and thinks it a much greater Character to be terrible than agreeable. When it has once enter'd into a Man's Head to have an Ambition to be thought crafty, all other Evils are neceſſary Conſequences. To [7] deceive, is the immediate Endeavour of him who is proud of the Capacity of doing it. It is certain, Polypragmon does all the Ill he poſſibly can, but pretends to much more than he performs. He is contented in his own Thoughts, and hugs himſelf in his Cloſet, that though he is locked up there and doing nothing, the World does not know but that he is doing Miſchief. To favour this Suſpicion, he gives Half-Looks and Shrugs in his general Behaviour, to give you to underſtand that you don't know what he means. He is alſo wonderfully adverbial in his Expreſſions, and breaks off with a Perhaps and a Nod of the Head, upon Matters of the moſt indifferent Nature. It is a mighty Practice with Men of this Genius to avoid frequent Appearance in Publick, and to be as myſterious as poſſible when they do come into Company. There is nothing to be done, according to them, the common Way; and let the Matter in Hand be what it will, it muſt be carried with an Air of Importance, and tranſacted, if we may ſo ſpeak, with an oſtentatious Secrecy. Theſe are your Perſons of long Heads, who would fain make the World believe their Thoughts and Idea's are very much ſuperior to their Neighbours, and do not value what theſe their Neighbours think of them, provided they do not reckon them Fools. Theſe have ſuch a Romantick Touch in Buſineſs, that they hate to perform any Thing like other Men. Were it in their Choice, they had rather bring their Purpoſes to bear by over-reaching the Perſons they deal with, than by a plain and ſimple Manner. They make Difficulties for the Honour of ſurmounting them. Polypragmon is eternally buſied after this Manner, with no other Proſpect than that he is in Hopes to be thought the moſt cunning of all Men, and fears the Imputation of Want of Underſtanding much more than that of the Abuſe of it. But alas! How contemptible is [8] ſuch an Ambition, which is the very Reverſe of all that is truly laudable; and the very Contradiction to the only Means to a juſt Reputation, Simplicity of Manners? Cunning can in no Circumſtance imaginable be a Quality worthy a Man, except in his own Defence, and meerly to conceal himſelf from ſuch as are ſo; and in ſuch Caſes it is no longer Craft, but Wiſdom. The monſtrous Affectation of being thought artful, immediately kills all Thoughts of Humanity and Goodneſs, and gives Men a Senſe of the ſoft Affections and Impulſes of the Mind (which are imprinted in us for our mutual Advantage and Succour) as of meer Weakneſſes and Follies. According to the Men of Cunning, you are to put off the Nature of a Man as faſt as you can, and acquire that of a Daemon, as if it were a more eligible Character to be a powerful Enemy, than an able Friend. But it ought to be a Mortification to Men affected this Way, that there wants but little more than Inſtinct to be conſiderable in it; for when a Man has arrived at being very bad in his Inclination, he has not much more to do, but to conceal himſelf, and he may revenge, cheat, and deceive, without much Employment for Underſtanding, and go on with great Chearfulneſs with the high Applauſe of being a prodigious cunning Fellow. But indeed, when we arrive at that Pitch of falſe Taſte, as not to think Cunning a contemptible Quality, it is, methinks, a very great Injuſtice that Pickpockets are had in ſo little Veneration, who muſt be admirably well turned, not only for the Theoretick, but alſo the Practical Behaviour of cunning Fellows. After all the Endeavour of this Family of Men, whom we call cunning, their whole Work falls to Pieces, if others will lay down all Eſteem for ſuch Artifices, and treat it as an unmanly Quality, which they forbear to practiſe only becauſe they abhor it. When the Spider is ranging in [9] the different Apartments of his Web, it is true that he only can weave ſo fine a Thread; but it is in the Power of the meereſt Drone that has Wings to fly through and deſtroy it.

Tho' the Taſte of Wit and Pleaſure is at preſent but very low in this Town, yet there are ſome that preſerve their Reliſh undebauched with common Impreſſions, and can diſtinguiſh between Reality and Impoſture. A Gentleman was ſaying here this Evening, That he would go to the Play to Morrow Night to ſee Heroiſm, as it has been repreſented by ſome of our Tragedians, repreſented in Burleſque. It ſeems, the Play of Alexander is to be then turned into Ridicule for its Bombaſt, and other falſe Ornaments in the Thought as well as the Language. The Bluſter Alexander makes, is as much inconſiſtent with the Character of an Hero, as the Roughneſs of Clytus an Inſtance of the Sincerity of a bold artleſs Soldier. To be plain is not to be rude, but rather inclines a Man to Civility and Deference; not indeed to ſhow it in the Geſtures of the Body, but in the Sentiments of the Mind. It is among other Things from the impertinent Figures unskilful Dramatiſts draw of the Characters of Men, that Youth are bewildered and prejudiced in their Senſe of the World, of which they have no Notions but what they draw from Books and ſuch Repreſentations. Thus talk to a very young Man, let him be of never ſo good Senſe, and he ſhall ſmile when you ſpeak of Sincerity in a Courtier, good Senſe in a Soldier, or Honeſty in a Politician. The Reaſon of this is, That you hardly ſee one Play wherein each of theſe Ways of Life is not drawn by Hands that know nothing of any one of them: And the Truth is ſo far of the oppoſite Side to what they paint, that it is more impracticable to live in Eſteem in Courts than any where elſe without Sincerity. Good [10] Senſe is the great Requiſite in a Soldier, and Honeſty the only Thing that can ſupport a Politician. This Way of Thinking made the Gentleman of whom I was juſt now ſpeaking ſay, He was glad any one had taken upon him to depreciate ſuch unnatural Fuſtian as the Tragedy of Alexander. The Character of that Prince indeed was, That he was unequal, and given to Intemperance; but in his ſober Moments, when he had warm in his Imagination the Precepts of his great Inſtructor, he was a Pattern of generous Thoughts and Diſpoſitions, in Oppoſition to the ſtrongeſt Deſires which are incident to a Youth and Conqueror. But inſtead of repreſenting that Hero in the glorious Character of Generoſity and Chaſtity, in his Treatment of the beauteous Family of Darius, he is drawn all along as a Monſter of Luſt, or of Cruelty; as if the Way to raiſe him to the Degree of an Hero, were to make his Character as little like that of a worthy Man as poſſible. Such rude and indigeſted Draughts of Things are the proper Objects of Ridicule and Contempt, and depreciating Alexander, as we have him drawn, is the only Way of reſtoring him to what he was in himſelf. It is well contrived of the Players to let this Part be followed by a true Picture of Life, in the Comedy call'd, The Chances, wherein Don John and Conſtantia are acted to the utmoſt Perfection. There need not be a greater Inſtance of the Force of Action than in many Incidents of this Play, where indifferent Paſſages, and ſuch that conduce only to the tacking of the Scenes together, are enlivened with ſuch an agreeable Geſture and Behaviour, as apparently ſhows what a Play might be, tho' it is not wholly what a Play ſhould be.

The TATLER. [No 192.
From Thurſd. June 29. to Saturd. July 1. 1710.

[11]
Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens.
Hor.

SOme Years ſince I was engaged with a Coach full of Friends to take a Journey as far as the Land's-End. We were very well pleaſed with one another the firſt Day, every one endeavouring to recommend himſelf by his good Humour and Complaiſance to the reſt of the Company. This good Correſpondence did not laſt long; one of our Party was ſowred the very firſt Evening by a Plate of Butter which had not been melted to his Mind, and which ſpoiled his Temper to ſuch a Degree, that he continued upon the Fret to the End of our Journey. A Second fell off from his good Humour the next Morning, for no other Reaſon that I could imagine, but becauſe I chanced to ſtep into the Coach before him, and place my ſelf on the ſhady Side. This however was but my own private Gueſs, for he did not mention a Word of it, nor indeed of any Thing elſe, for Three Days following. The reſt of our Company held out very near half the Way, when of a ſudden Mr. Sprightly fell aſleep; and inſtead of endeavouring to divert and oblige us, as he had hitherto done, carried himſelf with an unconcerned, careleſs, drowzy Behaviour, till we came to uur laſt Stage. There were Three of us who ſtill held up our Heads, and did all we could to make our Journey agreeable; but, to my Shame be it ſpoken, about Three Miles on this Side Exeter, I was taken with an unaccountable [12] Fit of Sullenneſs, that hung upon me for above Threeſcore Miles; whether it were for Want of Reſpect, or from an accidental. Tread upon my Foot, or from a fooliſh Maid's calling me The old Gentleman. I cannot tell. In ſhort, there was but one who kept his good Humour to the Land's-End.

There was another Coach that went along with us, in which I likewiſe obſerved, that there were many ſecret Jealouſies, Heart-burnings, and Animoſities: For when we joined Companies at Night, I could not but take Notice, that the Paſſengers neglected their own Company, and ſtudied how to make themſelves eſteemed by us, who were altogether Strangers to them; till at length they grew ſo well acquainted with us, that they liked us as little as they did one another. When I reflect upon this Journey, I often fancy it to be a Picture of Humane Life, in Reſpect to the ſeveral Friendſhips, Contracts, and Alliances, that are made and diſſolved in the ſeveral Periods of it. The moſt delightful and moſt laſting Engagements are generally thoſe which paſs between Man and Woman; and yet upon what Trifles are they weakened, or entirely broken? Sometimes the Parties fly aſunder, even in the Midſt of Courtſhip, and ſometimes grow cool in the very Honey Month. Some ſeparate before the Firſt Child, and ſome after the Fifth; others continue good till Thirty, others till Forty; while ſome few, whoſe Souls are of an happier Make, and better fitted to one another, travel on together to the End of their Journey in a continual Intercourſe of kind Offices and mutual Endearments.

When we therefore chuſe our Companions for Life, if we hope to keep both them and our ſelves in good Humour to the laſt Stage of it, we muſt be extreamly careful in the Choice we make, as well as in the Conduct on our own [13] Part. When the Perſons to whom we join our ſelves can ſtand an Examination, and bear the Scrutiny, when they mend upon our Acquaintance with them, and diſcover new Beauties the more we ſearch into their Characters, our Love will naturally riſe in Proportion to their Perfections.

But becauſe there are very few poſſeſſed of ſuch Accompliſhments of Body and Mind, we ought to look after thoſe Qualifications both in our ſelves and others, which are indiſpenſibly neceſſary towards this happy Union, and which are in the Power of every one to acquire, or at leaſt to cultivate and improve. Theſe, in my Opinion, are Chearfulneſs and Conſtancy. A chearful Temper joined with Innocence, will make Beauty attractive, Knowledge delightful, and Wit good-natured. It will lighten Sickneſs, Poverty, and Affliction; convert Ignorance into an amiable Simplicity, and render Deformity it ſelf agreeable.

Conſtancy is natural to Perſons of even Tempers and uniform Diſpoſitions, and may be acquired by thoſe of the greateſt Fickleneſs, Violence and Paſſion, who conſider ſeriouſly the Terms of Union upon which they come together, the mutual Intereſt in which they are engaged, with all the Motives that ought to incite their Tenderneſs and Compaſſion towards thoſe who have their Dependance upon them, and are embarked with them for Life in the ſame State of Happineſs or Miſery. Conſtancy, when it grows in the Mind upon Conſiderations of this Nature, becomes a Moral Virtue, and a kind of good Nature, that is not ſubject to any Change of Health, Age, Fortune, or any of thoſe Accidents which are apt to unſettle the beſt Diſpoſitions that are founded rather in Conſtitution than in Reaſon. Where ſuch a Conſtancy as this is wanting, the moſt enflamed Paſſion may fall away into Coldneſs [14] and Indifference, and the moſt melting Tenderneſs degenerate into Hatred and Averſion. I ſhall conclude this Paper with a Story that is very well known in the North of England.

About Thirty Years ago, a Packet-Boat that had ſeveral Paſſengers on Board was caſt away upon a Rock, and in ſo great Danger of ſinking, that all who were in it endeavoured to ſave themſelves as well at they could, though only thoſe who could ſwim well had a bare Poſſibility of doing it. Among the Paſſengers there were Two Women of Faſhion, who ſeeing themſelves in ſuch a diſconſolate Condition, begged of their Husbands not to leave them. One of them choſe rather to die with his Wife, than to forſake her; the other, though he was moved with the utmoſt Compaſſion for his Wife, told her, That for the Good of their Children it was better one of them ſhould live, than both periſh. By a great Piece of good Luck, next to a Miracle, when one of our good Men had taken the laſt and long Farewel in order to ſave himſelf, and the other held in his Arms the Perſon that was dearer to him than Life, the Ship was preſerved. It is with a ſecret Sorrow and Vexation of Mind that I muſt tell the Sequel of the Story, and let my Reader know, that this faithful Pair who were ready to have died in each others Arms, about Three Years after their Eſcape, upon ſome trifling Diſguſt, grew to a Coldneſs at firſt, and at length fell out to ſuch a Degree, that they left one another, and parted for ever. The other Couple lived together in an uninterrupted Friendſhip and Felicity; and what was remarkable, the Husband whom the Shipwreck had like to have ſeparated from his Wife, died a few Months after her, not being able to ſurvive the Loſs of her.

I muſt confeſs, there is ſomething in the Changeableneſs and Inconſtancy of Humane Nature, that very often both dejects and terrifies [15] me. Whatever I am at preſent, I tremble to think what I may be. While I find this Principle in me, How can I aſſure my ſelf that I ſhall be always true to my God, my Friend, or my ſelf? In ſhort, without Conſtancy there is neither Love, Friendſhip, or Virtue, in the World.

The TATLER. [No 193.
From Saturday July 1. to Tueſday July 4. 1710.

Qui didicit Patriae quid debeat, & quid Amicis,
Quo ſit Amore Parens, quo Frater Amandus, & Hoſpes.
Scribere Perſonae ſcit Convenientia cuique.
Hor.

I Have of late received many Epiſtles, wherein the Writers treat me as a mercenary Perſon for ſome late Hints concerning Matters which they think I ſhould not have touched upon but for ſordid Conſiderations. It is apparent, that my Motive could not be of that Kind; for when a Man declares him ſelf openly on one Side, that Party will take no more Notice of him, becauſe he is ſure; and the Set of Men whom he declares againſt, for the ſame Reaſon are violent againſt him. Thus it is Folly in a Plain-Dealer to expect, that either his Friends will reward him, or his Enemies forgive him. For which Reaſon, I thought it was the ſhorteſt Way to Impartiality, to put my ſelf beyond further Hopes or Fears, by declaring my ſelf, at a Time when the Diſpute is not about Perſons and Parties, but Things and Cauſes. To relieve my ſelf from the Vexation which naturally attends ſuch Reflections, I came hither this Evening to give my Thoughts [16] quite a new Turn, and converſe with Men of Pleaſure and Wit, rather than thoſe of Buſineſs and Intrigue. I had hardly entered the Room, when I was accoſted by Mr. Thomas Dogget, who deſired my Favour in Relation to the Play which was to be acted for his Benefit on Thurſday. He pleaſed me in ſaying it was The Old Batchelor, in which Comedy there is a neceſſary Circumſtance obſerv'd by the Author, which moſt other Poets either overlook or do not underſtand, that is to ſay, the Diſtinction of Characters. It is very ordinary with Writers to indulge a certain Modeſty of believing all Men as witty as themſelves, and making all the Perſons of the Play ſpeak the Sentiments of the Author, without any Manner of Reſpect to the Age, Fortune, or Quality, of him that is on the Stage. Ladies talk like Rakes, and Footmen make Similes: But this Writer knows Men. which makes his Plays reaſonable Entertainments, while the Scenes of moſt others are like the Tunes between the Acts. They are perhaps agreeable Sounds, but they have no Idea's affixed to them. Dogget thanked me for my Viſit to him in the Winter, and, after his Comick Manner, ſpoke his Requeſt with ſo arch a Leer, that I promiſed the Drole I would ſpeak to all my Acquaintance to be at his Play.

Whatever the World may think of the Actors, whether it be that their Parts have an Effect on their Lives, or whatever it is, you ſee a wonderful Benevolence among them towards the Intereſts and Neceſſities of each other. Dogget therefore would not let me go, without delivering me a Letter from poor old Downes the Prompter, wherein that Retainer to the Theatre deſires my Advice and Aſſiſtance in a Matter of Concern to him. I have ſent him my private Opinion for his Conduct; but the Stage and the State Affairs being ſo much canvaſſed by Parties and Factions, I ſhall for ſome Time hereafter take Leave [17] of Subjects which relate to either of them, and employ my Care in the Conſideration of Matters which regard that Part of Mankind who live without intereſting themſelves with the Troubles or Pleaſures of either. However, for a meer Notion of the preſent Poſture of the Stage, I ſhall give you the Letter at large as follows:

Honoured Sir,

FInding by divers of your late Papers, that you are a Friend to the Profeſſion of which I was many Years an unworthy Member, I the rather make bold to crave your Advice, touching a Propoſal that has been lately made me of coming again into Buſineſs, and the Sub-Adminiſtration of Stage Affairs. I have, from my Youth, been bred up behind the Curtain, and been a Prompter from the Time of the Reſtoration. I have ſeen many Changes, as well of Scenes as of Actors, and have known Men within my Remembrance arrive to the higheſt Dignities of the Theatre, who made their Entrance in the Quality of Mutes, Joint-ſtools, Flower-pots, and Tapeſtry Hangings. It cannot be unknown to the Nobility and Gentry, That a Gentleman of the Inns of Court, and a deep Intriguer, had ſome Time ſince worked himſelf into the ſole Management and Direction of the Theatre. Nor is it leſs notorious, That his reſtleſs Ambition, and ſubtle Machinations, did manifeſtly tend to the Extirpation of the good old Britiſh Actors, and the Introduction of foreign Pretenders; ſuch as Harlequins, French Dancers, and Roman Singers; which, though they impoveriſh'd the Proprietors, and impoſed on the Audience, were for ſome Time tolerated, by Reaſon of his dextrous Inſinuations, which prevailed upon a few deluded Women, eſpecially the Vizard Masks, to believe that the Stage was in Danger. But his Schemes were ſoon [18] expoſed, and the Great Ones that ſupported him withdrawing their Favour, he made his Exit, and remained for a Seaſon in Obſcurity. During this Retreat the Machiavilian was not idle, but ſecretly fomented Diviſions, and wrought over to his Side ſome of the inferior Actors, reſerving a Trap Door to himſelf, to which only he had a Key. This Entrance ſecured, this cunning Perſon, to compleat his Company, bethought himſelf of calling in the moſt eminent of Strollers from all Parts of the Kingdom. I have ſeen them all ranged together behind the Scenes; but they are many of them Perſons that never trod the Stage before, and ſo very aukward and ungainly, that it is impoſſible to believe the Audience will bear them. He was looking over his Catalogue of Plays, and indeed picked up a good tolerable Set of grave Faces for Counſellors, to appear in the famous Scene of Venice Preſerv'd, when the Danger is over; but they being but meer Outſides, and the Actors having a great Mind to play The Tempeſt, there is not a Man of them, when he is to perform any Thing above Dumb Show, is capable of acting with a good Grace ſo much as the Part of Trincalo. However, the Maſter perſiſts in his Deſign, and is fitting up the old Storm; but I am afraid he will not be able to procure able Sailors or experienced Officers for Love or Money.

Beſides all this, when he comes to caſt the Parts, there is ſo great a Confuſion amongſt them for Want of proper Actors, that for my Part I am wholly diſcouraged. The Play with which they deſign to open is, The Duke and no Duke; and they are ſo put to it, that the Maſter himſelf is to act the Conjurer, and they have no one for the General but honeſt George Powell.

Now, Sir, they being ſo much at a Loſs for the Dramatis Perſonae, viz. the Perſons to enact, [19] and the whole Frame of the Houſe being deſigned to be altered, I deſire your Opinion, whether you think it adviſable for me to undertake to prompt 'em? For though I can claſh Swords when they repreſent a Battle, and have yet Lungs enough left to huzza their Victories, I queſtion, if I ſhould prompt 'em right, whether they would act accordingly. I am

Your Honour's moſt humble Servant, J. Downes.

P. S. Sir, Since I writ this, I am credibly informed, That they deſign a new Houſe in Lincolns-Inn-Fields, near the Popiſh Chapel, to be ready by Michaelmas next; which indeed is but repairing an old one that has already failed. You know the honeſt Man who kept the Office is gone already.

The TATLER. [No 194.
From Tueſday July 4. to Thurſday July 6. 1710.

Militat omnis amans.
Ovid.

I Was this Morning reading the Tenth Canto in the Fourth Book of Spencer, in which Sir Scudamore relates the Progreſs of his Courtſhip to Amoret under a very beautiful Allegory, which is one of the moſt natural and unmixed of any in that moſt excellent Author. I ſhall tranſproſe it, to uſe Mr. Bays's Term, for the Benefit of many Engliſh Lovers, who have by frequent Letters deſired me to lay down ſome Rules for the Conduct of their virtuous Amours; and ſhall [20] only premiſe, That by the Shield of Love, [...] meant a generous, conſtant Paſſion for the Perſon beloved.

When the Fame, ſays he, of this celebrated Beauty firſt flew Abroad, I went in Purſuit of her to the Temple of Love. This Temple, continues he, bore the Name of the Goddeſs Venus, and was ſeated in a moſt fruitful Iſland, walled by Nature againſt all Invaders. There was a ſingle Bridge that led into the Iſland, and before it a Caſtle garriſon'd by Twenty Knights. Near the Caſtle was an open Plain, and in the midſt of it a Pillar, on which was hung the Shield of Love; and underneath it, in Letters of Gold, was this Inſcription:

Happy the Man who well can uſe his Bliſs;
Whoſe ever be the Shield, Fair Amoret be his.

My Heart panted upon reading the Inſcription: I ſtruck upon the Shield with my Spear. Immediately iſſued forth a Knight well mounted, and compleatly armed, who, without ſpeaking, ran fiercely at me. I received him as well as I could, and by good Fortune threw him out of the Saddle. I encountered the whole Twenty ſucceſſively, and leaving them all extended on the Plain, carried off the Shield in Token of Victory. Having thus vanquiſh'd my Rivals, I paſſed on without Impediment, till I came to the outermoſt Gate of the Bridge, which I found locked and barred. I knocked and called, but could get no Anſwer. At laſt I ſaw one on the other Side of the Gate, who ſtood peeping through a ſmall Crevice. This was the Porter; he had a double Face reſembling a Janus, and was continually looking about him, as if he miſtruſted ſome ſudden Danger. His Name, as I afterwards learned, was Doubt. Over-againſt him ſat Delay, who entertained Paſſengers with ſome idle Story, while they loſt ſuch Opportunities as were never [21] to be recovered. As ſoon as the Porter ſaw my Shield, he opened the Gate; but upon my entring, Delay caught hold of me, and would fain have made me liſten to her Fooleries. However, I ſhook her off, and paſſed forward till I came to the Second Gate, The Gate of good Deſert, which always ſtood wide open, but in the Porch was an hideous Giant, that ſtop'd the Entrance: His Name was Danger. Many Warriors of good Reputation, not able to bear the Sternneſs of his Look, went back again. Cowards fled at the firſt Sight of him, except ſome few, who watching their Opportunity, ſlipt by him unobſerv'd. I prepared to aſſault him; but upon the firſt Sight of my Shield, he immediately gave Way. Looking back upon him, I found his hinder Parts much more deformed and terrible than his Face; Hatred, Murther, Treaſon, Envy, and Detraction, lying in Ambuſh behind him, to fall upon the Heedleſs and Unwary.

I now entered The Iſland of Love, which appeared in all the Beauties of Art and Nature, and feaſted every Senſe with the moſt agreeable Objects. Amidſt a pleaſing Variety of Walks and Allies, ſhady Seats, and flowry Banks, ſunny Hills, and gloomy Valleys, were Thouſands of Lovers ſitting, or walking together in Pairs, and ſinging Hymns to the Deity of the Place.

I could not forbear envying this happy People, who were already in Poſſeſſion of all they could deſire. While I went forward to the Temple, the Structure was beautiful beyond Imagination. The Gate ſtood open. In the Entrance ſat a moſt amiable Woman, whoſe Name was Concord.

On either Side of her ſtood Two young Men, both ſtrongly armed, as if afraid of each other. As I afterwards learned they were both her Sons, but begotten of her by Two different Fathers; their Names, Love and Hatred.

[22] The Lady ſo well tempered and reconciled them both, that ſhe forced them to join Hands, tho' I could not but obſerve, that Hatred turned aſide his Face, as not able to endure the Sight of his younger Brother.

I at length entered the Inmoſt Temple, the Roof of which was raiſed upon an Hundred Marble Pillars, decked with Crowns, Chains, and Garlands. The Ground was ſtrowed with Flowers. An Hundred Altars, at each of which ſtood a Virgin Prieſteſs cloathed in White, blazed all at once with the Sacrifice of Lovers, who were perpetually ſending up their Vows to Heaven in Clouds of Incenſe.

In the Midſt ſtood the Goddeſs her ſelf, upon an Altar, whoſe Subſtance was neither Gold nor Stone, but infinitely more precious than either. About her Neck flew numberleſs Flocks of little Loves, Joys, and Graces; and all about her Altar lay ſcattered Heaps of Lovers, complaining of the Diſdain, Pride, or Treachery, of their Miſtreſſes. One among the reſt, no longer able to contain his Griefs, broke out into the following Prayer: ‘'Venus, Queen of Grace and Beauty, Joy of Gods and Men, who with a Smile becalmeſt the Seas, and reneweſt all Nature; Goddeſs, whom all the different Species in the Univerſe obey with Joy and Pleaſure, grant I may at laſt obtain the Object of my Vows.'’

The impatient Lover pronounced this with great Vehemence; but I in a ſoft Murmur beſought the Goddeſs to lend me her Aſſiſtance. While I was thus praying, I chanced to caſt my Eye on a Company of Ladies, who were aſſembled together in a Corner of the Temple waiting for the Anthem.

The foremoſt ſeemed ſomething elder, and of a more compoſed Countenance than the reſt, who all appeared to be under her Direction. Her Name was Womanhood. On one Side of her ſat [23] Shamefacedneſs, with Bluſhes riſing in her Cheeks, and her Eyes fixed upon the Ground: On the other was Chearfulneſs, with a ſmiling Look, that infuſed a ſecret Pleaſure into the Hearts of all that ſaw her. With theſe ſat Modeſty, holding her Hand on her Heart; Courteſie, with a graceful Aſpect, and obliging Behaviour; and the Two Siſters, who were always linked together, and reſembled each other, Silence and Obedience.

Thus ſat they all around in ſeemly Rate,
And in the Midſt of them a goodly Maid;
Ev'n in the Lap of Womanhood there ſate,
The which was all in Lilly-white array'd,
Where Silver Streams among the Linen ſtray'd;
Like to the Morn, when firſt her ſhining Face
Hath to the Gloomy World it ſelf bewray'd.
That ſame was faireſt Amoret in Place,
Shining with Beauty's Light, and Heav'nly Virtue's Grace.

As ſoon as I beheld the charming Amoret, my Heart throbbed with Hopes. I ſtepped to her, and ſeized her Hand; when Womanhood immediately riſing up, ſharply rebuked me for offering in ſo rude a Manner to lay hold on a Virgin. I excuſed my ſelf as modeſtly as I could, and at the ſame Time diſplayed my Shield; upon which, as ſoon as ſhe beheld the God emblazoned with his Bow and Shafts, ſhe was ſtruck mute, and inſtantly retired.

I ſtill held faſt the fair Amoret, and turning my Eyes towards the Goddeſs of the Place, ſaw that ſhe favoured my Pretenſions with a Smile, which ſo emboldened me, that I carried off my Prize.

The Maid, ſometimes with Tears, ſometimes with Smiles, entreated me to let her go: But I led her through the Temple-Gate, where the Goddeſs Concord, who had favoured my Entrance, befriended my Retreat.

[24] This Allegory is ſo natural, that it explains it ſelf. The Perſons in it are very artfully deſcribed, and diſpoſed in proper Places. The Poſts aſſigned to Doubt, Delay, and Danger, are admirable. The Gate of Good Deſert has ſomething noble and inſtructive in it. But above all, I am moſt pleaſed with the beautiful Grouppe of Figures in the Corner of the Temple. Among theſe, Womanhood is drawn like what the Philoſophers call an Univerſal Nature, and is attended with beautiful Repreſentatives of all thoſe Virtues that are the Ornaments of the Female Sex, conſidered in its natural Perfection and Innocence.

The TATLER. [No 195.
From Thurſd. July 6. to Saturd. July 8. 1710.

THE Learned World are very much offended at many of my Ratiocinations, and have but a very mean Opinion of me as a Politician. The Reaſon of this is, That ſome erroneouſly conceive a Talent for Politicks to conſiſt in the Regard to a Man's own Intereſt; but I am of quite another Mind, and think the firſt and eſſential Quality towards being a Stateſman is to have a publick Spirit. One of the Gentlemen who are out of Humour with me, imputes my falling into a Way wherein I am ſo very aukward to a Barrenneſs of Invention, and has the Charity to lay new Matter before me for the future. He is at the Bottom my Friend, but is at a Loſs to know whether I am a Fool or a Phyſician, and is pleaſed to expoſtulate with me with Relation to the latter. He falls heavy upon Licentiates, and ſeems to point more particularly at us who are [25] not regularly of the Faculty. But ſince he has been ſo civil to me as to meddle only with thoſe who are employed no further than about Men's Lives, and not reflected upon me as of the Aſtrological Sect, who concern our ſelves about Lives and Fortunes alſo, I am not ſo much hurt as to ſtifle any Part of his fond Letter.

SIR,

I Am afraid there is ſomething in the Suſpicions of ſome People, that you begin to be ſhort of Matter for your Lucubrations. Tho' ſeveral of them now and then did appear ſomewhat dull and inſipid to me, I was always charitably inclined to believe the Fault lay in my ſelf, and that I wanted the true Key to uncipher your Myſteries, and remember your Advertiſement upon this Account. But ſince I have ſeen you fall in an unpardonable Error, yea, with a Relapſe: I mean, ſince I have ſeen you turn Politician in the preſent unhappy Diſſentions. I have begun to ſtagger, and could not chuſe but leſſen the great Value I had for the Cenſor of our Iſle. How is it poſſible that a Man, whom Intereſt did naturally lead to a conſtant Impartiality in theſe Matters, and who hath Wit enough to judge, that his Opinion was not like to make many Proſelytes? How is it poſſible, I ſay, that a little Paſſion (for I have ſtill too good an Opinion of you to think you was bribed by the Staggering Party) could blind you ſo far as to offend the very better half of the Nation, and to leſſen off ſo much the Number of your Friends? Mr. Morphew will not have Cauſe to thank you, unleſs you give over, and endeavour to regain what you have loſt. There is ſtill a great many Themes you have left untouched; ſuch as the ill Managements of Matters relating to Law and Phyſick, the ſetting down Rules for knowing the Quacks [26] in both Profeſſions. What a large Field is there left in diſcovering the Abuſes of the College, who had a Charter and Privileges granted them to hinder the creeping in and prevailing of Quacks and Pretenders; and yet grant Licences to Barbers, and write Letters of Recommendation in the Country Towns, out of the Reach of their Practice, in Favour of meer Boys; valuing the Health and Lives of their Countrymen no farther than they get Money by them. You have ſaid very little or nothing about the Diſpenſation of Juſtice in Town and Country, where Clerks are the Counſellors to their Maſters.

But as I can't expect that the Cenſor of Great Britain ſhould publiſh a Letter, wherein he is cenſured with too much Reaſon himſelf; yet I hope you will be the better for it, and think upon the Themes I have mentioned, which muſt certainly be of greater Service to the World, your ſelf, and Mr. Morphew, than to let us know whether you are a Whig or a Tory. I am ſtill

Your Admirer and Servant, Cato Junior.

This Gentleman and I differ about the Words, Staggering and Better Part; but inſtead of anſwering to the Particulars of this Epiſtle, I ſhall only acquaint my Correſpondent, That I am at preſent forming my Thoughts upon the Foundation of Sir Scudamore's Progreſs in Spencer, which has led me from all other Amuſements, to conſider the State of Love in this Iſland; and from the Corruptions in the Government of that, to deduce the chief Evils of Life. In the mean Time that I am thus employed, I have given poſitive Orders to Don Saltero of Chelſea the Tooth-Drawer, and Dr. Thomas Smith the Corn-Cutter of King-ſtreet, Weſtminſter, (who have the Modeſty [27] to confine their Pretenſions to Manual Operations) to bring me in, with all convenient Speed, compleat Liſts of all who are but of equal Learning with themſelves, and yet adminiſter Phyſick beyond the Feet and Gums. Theſe Advices I ſhall reſerve for my future Leiſure; but have now taken a Reſolution to dedicate the remaining Part of this Inſtant July to the Service of the Fair Sex, and have almoſt finiſhed a Scheme for ſettling the whole Remainder of that Sex who are unmarried, and above the Age of Twenty five.

In order to this good and publick Service, I ſhall conſider the Paſſion of Love in its full Extent, as it is attended both with Joys and Inquietudes; and lay down, for the Conduct of my Lovers, ſuch Rules as ſhall baniſh the Cares, and heighten the Pleaſures, which flow from that amiable Spring of Life and Happineſs. There is no leſs than an abſolute Neceſſity that ſome Proviſion be made to take off the dead Stock of Women in City, Town, and Country. Let there happen but the leaſt Diſorder in the Streets. and in an Inſtant you ſee the Inequality of the Numbers of Males and Females. Beſides that the Feminine Crowd on ſuch Occaſions is more numerous in the open Way, you may obſerve them alſo to the very Garrets huddled together, Four at leaſt at a Caſement. Add to this, that by an exact Calculation of all that have come to Town by Stage-Coach or Waggon for this Twelvemonth laſt, Three Times in Four the treated Perſons have been Males. This over-ſtock of Beauty, for which there are ſo few Bidders, calls for an immediate Supply of Lovers and Husbands; and I am the ſtudious Knight-Errant who have ſuffer'd long Nocturnal Contemplations to find out Methods for the Relief of all Britiſh Females, who at preſent ſeem to be devoted to involuntary Virginity. The Scheme upon which I deſign to act, [28] I have communicated to none but a beauteous young Lady, (who has for ſome Time left the Town) in the following Letter:

To Amanda in Kent.

MADAM,

I Send with this, my Diſcourſe of Ways and Means for encouraging Marriage, and repeopling the Iſland. You will ſoon obſerve, that according to theſe Rules, the mean Conſiderations (which make Beauty and Merit ceaſe to be the Objects of Love and Courtſhip) will be fully exploded. I have unanſwerably proved, that Jointures and Settlements are the Bane of Happineſs; and not only ſo, but the Ruin even of their Fortunes who enter into them. I beg of you therefore to come to Town upon the Receipt of this, where I promiſe you, you ſhall have as many Lovers as Toaſters; for there needed nothing but to make Men's Intereſts fall in with their Inclinations, to render you the moſt courted of your Sex. As many as love you will now be willing to marry you: Haſten then, and be the honourable Miſtreſs of Mankind. Caſſander, and many others, ſtand in the Gate of Good Deſcrt to receive you. I am,

MADAM,
Your moſt Obedient, Moſt Humble Servant, Iſaac Bickerſtaff.

The TATLER. [No 196.
From Saturd. July 8. to Tueſd. July 11. 1710.

[29]
Dulcis inexperto cultura potentis Amici
Expertus metuit —
Hor.

THE intended Courſe of my Studies was altered this Evening by a Viſit from an old Acquaintance, who complained to me, mentioning one upon whom he had long depended, that he found his Labour and Perſeverance in his Patron's Service and Intereſts wholly ineffectual; and he thought now, after his beſt Years were ſpent in a profeſſed Adherence to him and his Fortunes, he ſhould in the End be forced to break with him, and give over all further Expectations from him. He ſighed, and ended his Diſcourſe, by ſaying, ‘'You, Mr. Cenſor, ſome Time ago, gave us your Thoughts of the Behaviour of great Men to their Creditors.'’ This Sort of Demand upon them, for what they invite Men to expect, is a Debt of Honour, which, according to Cuſtom, they ought to be moſt careful of paying, and would be a very worthy Subject for a Lucubration.

Of all Men living, I think, I am the moſt proper to treat of this Matter; becauſe in the Character and Employment of Cenſor, I have had Encouragement ſo infinitely above my Deſert, that what I ſay cannot poſſibly be ſuppoſed to ariſe from Peeviſhneſs, or any Diſappointment in that Kind which I my ſelf have met with. When we conſider Patrons and their Clients, thoſe who receive Addreſſes, and thoſe who are [30] addreſſed to, it muſt not be underſtood that the Dependants are ſuch as are worthleſs in their Natures, abandoned to any Vice or Diſhonour, or ſuch as without a Call thruſt themſelves upon Men in Power; nor when we ſay Patrons, do we mean ſuch as have it not in their Power, or have no Obligation to aſſiſt their Friends; but we ſpeak of ſuch Leagues where there are Power and Obligation on the one Part, and Merit and Expectation on the other. Were we to be very particular on this Subject, I take it, that the Diviſion of Patron and Client may include a Third Part of our Nation. The Want of Merit and real Worth will ſtrike out about Ninety nine in the Hundred of theſe, and Want of Ability in the Patron will diſpoſe of as many of that Order. He who out of meer Vanity to be applied to will take up another's Time and Fortune in his Service, where he has no Proſpect of returning it, is as much more unjuſt as thoſe who took up my Friend the Upholder's Goods without paying him for them. I ſay, he is much more unjuſt, as our Life and Time is more valuable than our Goods and Moveables. Among many whom you ſee about the Great, there is a contented wellpleaſed Set, who ſeem to like the Attendance for its own Sake, and are early at the Abodes of the powerful, out of meer Faſhion. This Sort of Vanity is as well grounded, as if a Man ſhould lay aſide his own plain Suit, and dreſs himſelf up in a gay Livery of anothers.

There are many of this Species who exclude others of juſt Expectation, and make thoſe proper Dependants appear impatient, becauſe they are not ſo chearful as thoſe who expect nothing. I have made uſe of the Penny-Poſt for the Inſtruction of theſe voluntary Slaves, and informed them, that they will never be provided for; but they double their Diligence upon Admonition. Will Afterday has told his Friends, that he was [31] to have the next Thing theſe Ten Years; and Harry Linger has been Fourteen within a Month of a conſiderable Office. However, the fantaſtick Complaiſance which is paid to them may blind the Great from ſeeing themſelves in a juſt Light, they muſt needs (if they in the leaſt reflect) at ſome Times have a Senſe of the Injuſtice they do in raiſing in others a falſe Expectation. But this is ſo common a Practice in all the Stages of Power, that there are not more Cripples come out of the Wars, than from the Attendance of Patrons. You ſee in one a ſettled Melancholy, in another a bridled Rage, a Third has loſt his Memory, and a Fourth his whole Conſtitution and Humour. In a Word, when you ſee a particular Caſt of Mind or Body, which looks a little upon the Diſtracted, you may be ſure the poor Gentleman has formerly had great Friends. For this Reaſon, I have thought it a prudent Thing to take a Nephew of mine out of a Ladies Service, where he was a Page, and have bound him to a Shoemaker.

But what of all the Humours under the Sun is the moſt pleaſant to conſider, is, That you ſee ſome Men lay as it were a Set of Acquaintance by them, to converſe with when they are out of Employment, who had no Effect of their Power when they were in. Here Patrons and Clients both make the moſt fantaſtical Figure imaginable. Friendſhip indeed is moſt manifeſted in Adverſity; but I do not know how to behave my ſelf to a Man who thinks me his Friend at no other Time but that. Dick Reptile of our Club had this in his Head t'other Night, when he ſaid, I am afraid of ill News when I am viſited by any of my old Friends. Theſe Patrons are a little like ſome fine Gentlemen, who ſpend all their Hours of Gaiety with their Wenches, but when they fall ſick, will let no one come near them but their Wives. It ſeems, Truth and Honour [32] are Companions too ſober for Proſperity. It is certainly the moſt black Ingratitude to accept of a Man's beſt Endeavours to be pleaſing to you, and return it with Indifference.

I am ſo much of this Mind, that Dick Eaſtcourt the Comedian, for coming one Night to our Club, tho' he laughed at us all the Time he was there, ſhall have our Company at his Play on Thurſday. A Man of Talents is to be favoured, or never admitted. Let the ordinary World truck for Money and Wares, but Men of Spirit and Converſation ſhould in every Kind do others as much Pleaſure as they receive from them. But Men are ſo taken up with outward Forms, that they do not conſider their Actions; elſe how ſhould it be, that a Man ſhall deny that to the Entreaties and almoſt Tears of an old Friend, which he ſhall ſolicit a new one to accept of? I remember, when I firſt came out of Staffordſhire, I had an Intimacy with a Man of Quality, in whoſe Gift there fell a very good Employment. All the Town cry'd, There's a Thing for Mr. Bickerſtaff! When, to my great Aſtoniſhment, I found my Patron had been forced upon Twenty Artifices to ſurprize a Man with it who never thought of it: But ſure it is a Degree of Murder to amuſe Men with vain Hopes. If a Man takes away another's Life, where is the Difference, whether he does it by taking away the Minutes of his Time, or the Drops of his Blood? But indeed, ſuch as have Hearts barren of Kindneſs are ſerved accordingly by thoſe whom they employ, and paſs their Lives away with an empty Shew of Civility for Love, and an inſipid Intercourſe of a Commerce in which their Affections are no way concerned. But on the other Side, How beautiful is the Life of a Patron who performs his Duty to his Inferiors? A worthy Merchant, who employs a Crowd of Artificers? A great Lord, who is generous and merciful to the ſeveral Neceſſities [33] of his Tenants? A Courtier, who uſes his Credit and Power for the Welfare of his Friends? Theſe have in their ſeveral Stations a quick Reliſh of the exquiſite Pleaſure of doing Good. In a Word, good Patrons are like the Guardian Angels of Plato, who are ever buſy, though unſeen, in the Care of their Wards; but ill Patrons are like the Deities of Epicurus, ſupine, indolent, and unconcerned, though they ſee Mortals in Storms and Tempeſts even while they are offering Incenſe to their Power.

The TATLER. [No 197.
From Tueſday July 11. to Thurſday July 13. 1710.

Semper ego Auditor tantum? —
Juv.

WHEN I came hither this Evening, the Man of the Houſe delivered me a Book very finely bound. When I received it, I overheard one of the Boys whiſper another, and ſay, It was a fine Thing to be a great Scholar! What a pretty Book that is! It has indeed a very gay Outſide, and is dedicated to me by a very ingenious Gentleman, who does not put his Name to it. The Title of it (for the Work is in Latin) is, Epiſtolarum Obſcurorum Virorum, ad Dm. M. Ortuinum Gratium, Volumina II. &c. "The Epiſtles of the Obſcure Writers to Ortuinus, &c." The Purpoſe of the Work is ſignified in the Dedication, in very elegant Language, and fine Raillery. It ſeems, this is a Collection of Letters which ſome profound Blockheads, who lived before our Times, have written in Honour of each [34] other, and for their mutual Information in each others Abſurdities. They are moſtly of the German Nation, whence from Time to Time Inundations of Writers have flow'd, more pernicious to the Learned World than the Swarms of Goths and Vandals to the Politick. It is, methinks, wonderful, that Fellows could be awake, and utter ſuch incoherent Conceptions, and converſe with great Gravity like learned Men, without the leaſt Taſt of Knowledge or good Senſe. It would have been an endleſs Labour to have taken any other Method of expoſing ſuch Impertinencies, than by an Edition of their own Works, where you ſee their Follies, according to the Ambition of ſuch Virtuoſi, in a moſt correct Edition.

Looking over theſe accompliſh'd Labours, I could not but reflect upon the immenſe Load of Writings which the Commonalty of Scholars have puſhed into the World, and the Abſurdity of Parents, who educate Crowds to ſpend their Time in Purſuit of ſuch cold and ſprightleſs Endeavours to appear in Publick. It ſeems therefore a fruitleſs Labour to attempt the Correction of the Taſt of our Contemporaries, except it was in our Power to burn all the ſenſeleſs Labours of our Anceſtors. There is a ſecret Propenſity in Nature from Generation to Generation in the Blockheads of one Age to admire thoſe of another; and Men of the ſame Imperfections are as great Admirers of each other, as thoſe of the ſame Abilities.

This great Miſchief of voluminous Follies proceeds from a Misfortune which happens in all Ages, that Men of barren Genius's, but fertile Imaginations, are bred Scholars. This may at firſt appear a Paradox; but when we conſider the talking Creatures we meet in publick Places, it will no longer be ſuch. Ralph Shallow is a young Fellow, that has not by Nature any the leaſt Propenſity to ſtrike into what has not been obſerved [35] and ſaid every Day of his Life by others; but with that Inability of ſpeaking any Thing that is uncommon, he has a great Readineſs at what he can ſpeak of, and his Imagination runs into all the different Views of the Subject he treats of in a Moment. If Ralph had Learning added to the common Chit-Chat of the Town, he would have been a Diſputant upon all Topicks that ever were conſidered by Men of his own Genius. As for my Part, I never am teazed by an empty Town-Fellow, but I bleſs my Stars that he was not bred a Scholar. This Addition, we muſt conſider, would have made him capable of maintaining his Follies. His being in the Wrong would have been protected by ſuitable Arguments; and when he was hedged in by Logical Terms, and falſe Appearances, you muſt have owned your ſelf convinced before you could then have got rid of him, and the Shame of his Triumph had been added to the Pain of his Impertinence.

There is a Sort of Littleneſs in the Minds of Men of wrong Senſe, which makes them much more inſufferable than meer Fools, and has the further Inconvenience of being attended by an endleſs Loquacity. For which Reaſon, it would be a very proper Work, if ſome Well-wiſher to humane Society would conſider the Terms upon which People meet in publick Places, in order to prevent the unſeaſonable Declamations which we meet with there. I remember, in my Youth it was an Humour at the Univerſity, when a Fellow pretended to be more eloquent than ordinary, and had formed to himſelf a Plot to gain all our Admiration, or triumph over us with an Argument, to either of which he had no Manner of Call; I ſay, in either of theſe Caſes, it was the Humour to ſhut one Eye. This whimſical Way of taking Notice to him of his Abſurdity, has prevented many a Man from being a Coxcomb. If amongſt us, on ſuch an Occaſion each Man offered [36] a voluntary Rhetorician ſome Snuff, it would probably produce the ſame Effect. As the Matter now ſtands, whether a Man will or no, he is obliged to be informed in whatever another pleaſes to entertain him with, tho' the Preceptor makes theſe Advances out of Vanity, and not to inſtruct, but inſult him.

There is no Man will allow him who wants Courage to be called a Soldier; but Men who want good Senſe, are very frequently not only allowed to be Scholars, but eſteemed for being ſuch. At the ſame Time it muſt be granted, that as Courage is the natural Parts of a Soldier, ſo is a good Underſtanding of a Scholar. Such little Minds as theſe, whoſe Productions are collected in the Volume to which I have the Honour to be Patron, are the Inſtruments for artful Men to work with, and become popular with the unthinking Part of Mankind. In Courts, they make tranſparent Flatterers; in Camps, oſtentatious Bullies; in Colleges, unintelligible Pedants; and their Faculties are uſed accordingly by thoſe who lead them.

When a Man who wants Judgment is admitted into the Converſation of reaſonable Men, he ſhall remember ſuch improper Circumſtances, and draw ſuch groundleſs Concluſions from their Diſcourſe, and that with ſuch Colour of Senſe, as would divide the beſt Set of Company that can be got together. It is juſt thus with a Fool who has a Familiarity with Books, he ſhall quote and recite one Author againſt another, in ſuch a Manner as ſhall puzzle the beſt Underſtanding to refute him; tho' the moſt ordinary Capacity may obſerve, that it is only Ignorance which makes the Intricacy. All the true Uſe of that we call Learning, is to ennoble and improve our natural Faculties, and not to diſguiſe our Imperfections. It is therefore in vain for Folly to attempt to conceal it ſelf by the Refuge of Learned Languages. Literature [37] does but make a Man more eminently the Thing which Nature made him; and Polyglottes, had he ſtudied leſs than he has, and writ only in his Mother Tongue, had been known only in Great Britain for a Pedant.

Mr. Bickerſtaff thanks Dorinda, and will both anſwer her Letter, and take her Advice.

The TATLER. [No 198.
From Thurſday July 13. to Saturday July 15. 1710.

Quale ſit id quod amas celeri circumſpice Mente,
Et tua caeſura ſubſtrahe Colla Jugo.
Hor.

The Hiſtory of Caelia.

IT is not neceſſary to look back into the Firſt Years of this young Lady, whoſe Story is of Conſequence only as her Life has lately met with Paſſages very uncommon. She is now in the Twentieth Year of her Age, and owes a ſtrict, but chearful Education, to the Care of an Aunt, to whom ſhe was recommended by her dying Father, whoſe Deceaſe was haſtened by an inconſolable Affliction for the Loſs of her Mother. As Caelia is the Offspring of the moſt generous Paſſion that has been known in our Age, ſhe is adorned with as much Beauty and Grace as the moſt celebrated of her Sex poſſeſs; but her Domeſtick Life, moderate Fortune, and religious Educaiton, gave her but little Opportunity, and leſs Inclination, to be admired in publick Aſſemblies. Her Abode has been for ſome Years a convenient Diſtance from the Cathedral of St. Paul's, [38] where her Aunt and ſhe choſe to reſide, for the Advantage of that rapturous Way of Devotion which gives Extaſy to the Pleaſures of Innocence, and, in ſome Meaſure, is the immediate Poſſeſſion of thoſe Heavenly Enjoyments for which they are addreſſed.

As you may trace the uſual Thoughts of Men in their Countenances, there appeared in the Face of Caelia a Chearfulneſs, the conſtant Companion of unaffected Virtue; and a Gladneſs, which is as inſeparable from true Piety. Her every Look and Motion ſpoke the peaceful, mild, reſigning, humble Inhabitant, that animated her beauteous Body. Her Air diſcovered her Body a meer Machine of her Mind, and not that her Thoughts were employed in ſtudying Graces and Attractions for her Perſon. Such was Caelia when ſhe was firſt ſeen by Palamede at her uſual Place of Worſhip. Palamede is a young Man of Two and twenty, well-faſhioned, learned, genteel, and diſcreet, the Son and Heir of a Gentleman of a very great Eſtate, and himſelf poſſeſſed of a plentiful one by the Gift of an Unkle. He became enamoured with Caelia, and after having learned her Habitation, had Addreſs enough to communicate his Paſſion and Circumſtances with ſuch an Air of good Senſe and Integrity, as ſoon obtain'd Permiſſion to viſit and profeſs his Inclinations towards her. Palamede's preſent Fortune and future Expectations were no Way prejudicial to his Addreſſes; but after the Lovers had paſſed ſome Time in the agreeable Entertainments of a ſucceſsful Courtſhip, Caelia one Day took Occaſion to interrupt Palamede in the Midſt of a very pleaſing Diſcourſe of the Happineſs he promiſed himſelf in ſo accompliſhed a Companion, and aſſuming a ſerious Air, told him, there was another Heart to be won before he gained hers, which was that of his Father. Palamede ſeemed much diſturbed at the Overture, and lamented to her, [39] That his Father was one of thoſe too provident Parents, who only place their Thoughts upon bringing Riches into their Families by Marriages, and are wholly inſenſible of all other Conſiderations. But the Strictneſs of Caelia's Rules of Life made her inſiſt upon this Demand; and the Son, at a proper Hour, communicated to his Father the Circumſtances of his Love, and the Merit of the Object. The next Day the Father made her a Viſit. The Beauty of her Perſon, the Fame of her Virtue, and a certain irreſiſtible Charm in her whole Behaviour on ſo tender and delicate an Occaſion, wrought ſo much upon him, in Spight of all Prepoſſeſſions, that he haſtened the Marriage with an Impatience equal to that of his Son. Their Nuptials were celebrated with a Privacy ſuitable to the Character and Modeſty of Caelia, and from that Day, till a fatal one of laſt Week, they lived together with all the Joy and Happineſs which attend Minds entirely united.

It ſhould have been intimated, That Palamede is a Student of the Temple, and uſually retired thither early in a Morning, Caelia ſtill ſleeping.

It happened a few Days ſince, that ſhe followed him thither to communicate to him ſomething ſhe had omitted in her redundant Fondneſs to ſpeak of the Evening before. When ſhe came to his Apartment, the Servant there told her, ſhe was coming with a Letter to her. While Caelia in an Inner Room was reading an Apology from her Husband, That he had been ſuddenly taken by ſome of his Acquaintance to dine at Brentford, but that he ſhould return in the Evening, a Country Girl, decently clad, asked, If thoſe were not the Chambers of Mr. Palamede? She was anſwered, They were, but that he was not in Town. The Stranger asked, When he was expected at Home? The Servant replied, She would go in and ask his Wife. The young Woman repeated the Word Wife, and fainted. This Accident rais'd no leſs Curioſity [40] when Amazement in Caelia, who cauſed her to be removed into the Inner Room. Upon proper Applications to revive her, the unhappy young Creature returned to her ſelf, and ſaid to Caelia, with an earneſt and beſeeching Tone, Are you really Mr. Palamede's Wife? Caelia replies, I hope I do not look as if I were any other in the Condition you ſee me. The Stranger anſwers, No, Madam, he is my Husband. At the ſame Inſtant ſhe threw a Bundle of Letters into Caelia's Lap, which confirmed the Truth of what ſhe aſſerted. Their mutual Innocence and Sorrow made them look at each other as Partners in Diſtreſs, rather than Rivals in Love. The Superiority of Caelia's Underſtanding and Genius gave her an Authority to examine into this Adventure as if ſhe had been offended againſt, and the other the Delinquent. The Stranger ſpoke in the following Manner:

Madam,

If it ſhall pleaſe you, Mr. Palamede having an Unkle of a good Eſtate near Wincheſter, was bred at the School there, to gain the more his good Will by being in his Sight. His Unkle died, and left him the Eſtate, which my Husband now has. When he was a meer Youth he ſet his Affections on me; but when he could not gain his Ends he married me, making me and my Mother, who is a Farmer's Widow, ſwear we would never tell it upon any Account whatſoever; for that it would not look well for him to marry ſuch a one as me; beſides, that his Father would cut him off of the Eſtate. I was glad to have him in an honeſt Way, and he now and then came and ſtay'd a Night and away at our Houſe. But very lately he came down to ſee us, with a fine young Gentleman his Friend, who ſtay'd behind there with us, pretending to like the Place for the Summer; but ever ſince Maſter Palamede went, he has attempted to abuſe me; [41] and I ran hither to acquaint him with it, and avoid the wicked Intentions of his falſe Friend.

Caelia had no more Room for Doubt, but left her Rival in the ſame Agonies ſhe felt her ſelf. Palamede returns in the Evening, and finding his Wife at his Chambers, learned all that had paſſed, and haſtened to Caelia's Lodgings.

It is much eaſier to imagine than expreſs the Sentiments of either the Criminal or the Injured at this Encounter.

Aſſoon as Palamede had found Way for Speech, he confeſſed his Marriage, and his placing his Companion on Purpoſe to vitiate his Wife, that he might break through a Marriage made in his Nonage, and devote his riper and knowing Years to Caelia. She made him no Anſwer; but retired to her Cloſet. He returned to the Temple, where he ſoon after received from her the following Letter:

SIR,

YOU, who this Morning were the beſt, are now the worſt of Men who beath vital Air. I am at once overwhelmed with Love, Hatred, Rage, and Diſdain. Can Infamy and Innocence live together? I feel the Weight of the one too ſtrong for the Comfort of the other. How bitter, Heaven, how bitter is my Portion? How much have I to ſay; but the Infant which I bear about me ſtirs with my Agitation. I am, Palamede, to live in Shame, and this Creature be Heir to it. Farewel for ever.

The TATLER. [No 199.
From Saturd. July 15. to Tueſd. July 18. 1710.

[42]

WHEN we revolve in our Thoughts ſuch Cataſtrophes as that in the Hiſtory of the unhappy Caelia, there ſeems to be ſomething ſo hazardous in the changing a ſingle State of Life into that of Marriage, that (it may happen) all the Precautions imaginable are not ſufficient to defend a Virgin from Ruin by her Choice. It ſeems a wonderful Inconſiſtence in the Diſtribution of publick Juſtice, that a Man who robs a Woman of an Ear-ring or a Jewel, ſhould be puniſhed with Death; but one who by falſe Arts and Inſinuations ſhould take from her her very ſelf, is only to ſuffer Diſgrace. This excellent young Woman has nothing to conſolate her ſelf with, but the Reflection that her Sufferings are not the Effect of any Guilt or Miſconduct, and has for her Protection the Influence of a Power which, amidſt the unjuſt Reproach of all Mankind, can give not only Patience, but Pleaſure to Innocence in Diſtreſs.

As the Perſon who is the Criminal againſt Caelia cannot be ſufficiently puniſhed according to our preſent Law, ſo are there numberleſs unhappy Perſons without Remedy according to preſent Cuſtom. That great Ill which has prevailed among us in theſe latter Ages, is the making even Beauty and Virtue the Purchaſe of Money. The Generality of Parents, and ſome of thoſe of Quality, inſtead of looking out for introducing Health of Conſtitution, Frankneſs of Spirit, or Dignity of Countenance, into their Families, lay out all their Thoughts upon finding out Marches for their Eſtates, and not their Children. You ſhall have [43] one form a Plot for the Good of his Family, that there ſhall not be Six Men in England capable of pretending to his Daughter. A Second ſhall have a Son obliged, out of meer Diſcretion, for fear of doing any Thing below himſelf, follow all the Drabs in Town. Theſe ſage Parents meet; and as there is no Paſs, no Courtſhip, between the young Ones, it is no unpleaſant Obſervation to behold how they proceed to Treaty. There is ever in the Behaviour of each ſomething that denotes his Circumſtance; and honeſt Coupler the Conveniencer ſays, he can diſtinguiſh upon Sight of the Parties, before they have opened any Point of their Buſineſs, which of the Two has the Daughter to ſell. Coupler is of our Club, and I have frequently heard him declaim upon this Subject, and aſſert, that the Marriage-Settlements which are now uſed have grown faſhionable even within his Memory.

When the Theatre in ſome late Reigns owed its chief Support to thoſe Scenes which were written to put Matrimony out of Countenance, and render that State terrible, then was it that Pin-Money firſt prevailed, and all the other Articles inſerted which create a Diffidence; and intimate to the young People, that they are very ſoon to be in a State of War with each other: Tho' this had ſeldom happened, except the Fear of it had been expreſſed. Coupler will tell you alſo, that Jointures were never frequent till the Age before his own; but the Women were contented with the Third Part of the Eſtate the Law allotted them, and ſcorned to engage with Men whom they thought capable of abuſing their Children. He has alſo informed me, that thoſe who were the oldeſt Benchers when he came to the Temple told him, the firſt Marriage-Settlement of conſiderable Length was the Invention of an old Serjeant, who took the Opportunity of Two Teſty Fathers, who were ever ſquabbling to bring about an Alliance between their Children. Theſe Fellows knew each [44] other to be Knaves, and the Serjeant took hold of their mutual Diffidence, for the Benefit of the Law, to extend the Settlement to Three Skins of Parchment.

To this great Benefactor to the Profeſſion is owing the preſent Price Current of Lines and Words. Thus is Tenderneſs thrown out of the Queſtion; and the great Care is, What the young Couple ſhall do when they come to hate each other? I do not queſtion but from this one Humour of Settlements, might very fairly be deduced not only our preſent Defection in Point of Morals, but alſo our Want of People. This has given Way to ſuch unreaſonable Gallantries, that a Man is hardly reproachable that deceives an innocent Woman, tho' ſhe has never ſo much Merit, if ſhe is below him in Fortune. The Man has no Diſhonour following his Treachery; and her own Sex are ſo debaſed by Force of Cuſtom, as to ſay in the Caſe of the Woman, How could ſhe expect he would marry her?

By this Means the good Offices, the Pleaſures and Graces of Life, are not put into the Ballance: The Bridegroom has given his Eſtate out of himſelf and he has no more left but to follow the blind Decree of his Fate, whether he ſhall be ſucceeded by a Sot, or a Man of Merit, in his Fortune. On the other Side, a fine Woman, who has alſo a Fortune, is ſet up by Way of Auction; her firſt Lover has Ten to One againſt him. The very Hour after he has opened his Heart and his Rent-Roll, he is made no other Uſe of, but to raiſe her Price. She and her Friends loſe no Opportunity of publiſhing it to call in new Bidders. While the poor Lover very innocently waits till the Plenipotentiaries at the Inns of Court have debated about the Alliance, all the Partiſans of the Lady throw Difficulties in the Way, till other Offers come in; and the Man who came firſt is not put in Poſſeſſion, till ſhe has been refuſed by half the Town. [45] If an Abhorrence to ſuch mercenary Proceedings were well ſettled in the Minds of my Fair Readers, thoſe of Merit would have a Way opened to their Advancement: nay, thoſe who abound in Wealth only, would in Reality find their Account in it. It would not be in the Power of their Prude Acquaintance, their Waiters, their Nurſes, Couſins and Whiſperers, to perſwade them, that there are not above Twenty Men in a Kingdom, (and thoſe ſuch as perhaps they may never ſet Eyes on) whom they can think of with Diſcretion. As the Caſe ſtands now, let any one conſider, how the great Heireſſes, and thoſe to whom they were offered, for no other Reaſon but that they could make them ſuitable Settlements, live together. What can be more inſipid, if not loathſome, than for Two Perſons to be at the Head of a Crowd, who have as little Regard for them as they for each other, and behold one another in an affected Senſe of Proſperity, without the leaſt Reliſh of that exquiſite Gladneſs at meeting, that ſweet Inquietude at parting, together with the Charms of Voice, Look, Geſture, and that general Benevolence between well choſen Lovers, which makes all Things pleaſe, and leaves not the leaſt Trifle indifferent.

But I am diverted from theſe Sketches for future Eſſays, in Behalf of my numerous Clients of the Fair Sex, by a Notice ſent to my Office in Sheer-Lane, That a blooming Widow, in the Third Year of her Widowhood, and Twenty ſix of her Age, deſigns to take a Colonel of Twenty eight. The Parties requeſt I would draw up their Terms of coming together, as having a Regard to my Opinion againſt long and diffident Settlements; and I have ſens them the following Indenture:

[46]We John — and Mary — having Eſtates for Life, reſolve to take each other. I John will venture my Life to enrich thee Mary; and I Mary will conſult my Health to nurſe thee John. To which we have interchangeably ſet our Hands, Hearts, and Seals, this 17th of July, 1710.

The TATLER. [No 200.
From Tueſday July 18. to Thurſday July 20. 1710.

HAving devoted the greater Part of my Time to the Service of the Fair Sex, I muſt ask Pardon of my Men Correſpondents if I poſtpone their Commands, when I have any from the Ladies which lie unanſwered. That which follows is of Importance.

SIR,

YOU can't think it ſtrange if I, who know little of the World, apply to you for Advice in the weighty Affair of Matrimony, ſince you your ſelf have often declared it to be of that Conſequence as to require the utmoſt Deliberation. Without farther Preface therefore, give me Leave to tell you, that my Father at his Death left me a Fortune ſufficient to make me a March for any Gentleman. My Mother (for ſhe is ſtill alive (is very preſſing with me to marry; and I am apt to think, to gratify her, I ſhall venture upon One of Two Gentlemen who at this Time make their Addreſſes to me. My Requeſt is, that you would direct me in my Choice; which that you may the better do, I ſhall give you their Characters; and to avoid Confuſion, deſire you to call them by the Names of Philander and Silvius. [47] Philander is young, and has a good Eſtate; Silvius is as young, and has a better. The former has had a liberal Education, has ſeen the Town, is retired from thence to his Eſtate in the Country, is a Man of few Words, and much given to Books. The latter was brought up under his Father's Eye, who gave him juſt Learning enough to enable him to keep his Accounts; but made him withal very expert in Country Buſineſs, ſuch as Ploughing, Sowing, Buying, Selling, and the like. They are both very ſober Men, neither of their Perſons is diſagreeaable, nor did I know which to prefer till I had heard them diſcourſe; when the Converſation of Philander ſo much prevailed, as to give him the Advantage, with me, in all other Reſpects. My Mother pleads ſtrongly for Silvius, and uſes theſe Arguments, That he not only has the larger Eſtate at preſent, but by his good Husbandry and Management increaſes it daily; That his little Knowledge in other Affairs will make him eaſy and tractable; whereas (according to her) Men of Letters know too much to make good Husbands. To Part of this I imagine I anſwer effectually, by ſaying, Philander's Eſtate is large enough; That they who think 2000 l. a Year ſufficient, make no Difference between that and Three. I eaſily believe him leſs converſant in thoſe Affairs, the Knowledge of which ſhe ſo much commends in Silvius; but I think them neither ſo neceſſary or becoming in a Gentleman as the Accompliſhments of Philander. It is no great Character of a Man to ſay, He rides in his Coach and Six, and underſtands as much as he who follows his Plough. Add to this, That the Converſation of theſe Sort of Men ſeems ſo diſagreeable to me, that tho' they may make good Bailiffs, I can hardly be perſwaded they can be good Companions. 'Tis poſſible I may ſeem to have odd Notions, when I ſay I am [48] not fond of a Man only for being of (what is called) a Thriving Temper. To conclude, I own I am at a Loſs to conceive how good Senſe ſhould make a Man an ill Husband, or converſing with Books leſs complaiſant.

CAELIA.

The Reſolution which this Lady is going to take, ſhe may very well ſay is founded on Reaſon: For after the Neceſſities of Life are ſerved, there is no manner of Competition between a Man of Liberal Education and an Illiterate. Men are not altered by their Circumſtances, but as they give them Opportunities of exerting what they are in themſelves; and a powerful Clown is a Tyrant in the moſt ugly Form he can poſſibly appear. There lies a ſeeming Objection in the thoughtful Manner of Philander: But let her conſider which ſhe ſhall oftener have Occaſion to wiſh, that Philander would ſpeak, or Silvius hold his Tongue.

The Train of my Diſcourſe is prevented by the urgent Haſt of another Correſpondent.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

THis comes to you from one of thoſe Virgins of Twenty five Years old and upwards, that you, like a Patron of the Diſtreſſed, promiſed to provide for; who makes it her humble Requeſt, that no Occaſional Stories or Subjects may (as they have for Three or Four of your laſt Days) prevent your publiſhing the Scheme you have communicated to Amanda, for every Day and Hour is of the greateſt Conſequence to Damſels of ſo advanced an Age. Be quick then, if you intend to do any Service for

Your Admirer, Diana Forecaſt.

[49] In this important Affair, I have not neglected the Propoſals of others. Among them is the following Sketch of a Lottery for Perſons. The Author of it has propoſed very ample Encouragement, not only to my ſelf, but alſo to Charles Lillie and John Morphew. If the Matter bears, I ſhall not be unjuſt to his Merit: I only deſire to enlarge his Plan; for which Purpoſe I lay it before the Town, as well for the Improvement as Encouragement of it.

The Amicable Contribution for raiſing the Fortunes of Ten young Ladies.

Imprimis, It is propoſed to raiſe 100000 Crowns by Way of Lots, which will advance for each Lady 2500 l. which Sum, together with one of the Ladies, the Gentleman that ſhall be ſo happy as to draw a Prize, (provided they both like) will be entitled to, under ſuch Reſtrictions hereafter mentioned. And in caſe they do not like, then either Party that refuſes ſhall be entitled to 1000 l. only, and the Remainder to him or her that ſhall be willing to marry, the Man being firſt to declare his Mind. But it is provided, That if both Parties ſhall conſent to have one another, the Gentleman ſhall, before he receives the Money thus raiſed, ſettle 1000 l. of the ſame in ſubſtantial Hands, (who ſhall be as Truſtees for the ſaid Ladies) and ſhall have the whole and ſole Diſpoſal of it for her Uſe only.

Note, Each Party ſhall have Three Months Time to conſider, after an Interview had, which ſhall be within Ten Days after the Lots are drawn.

Note alſo, The Name and Place of Abode of the Prize ſhall be placed on a proper Ticket.

[50] Item, They ſhall be Ladies that have had a liberal Education, between Fifteen and Twenty three, all genteel, witty, and of unblameable Characters.

The Money to be raiſed ſhall be kept in an Iron Box, and when there ſhall be 2000 Subſcriptions, which amounts to 500 l. it ſhall be taken out and put into a Goldſmith's Hands, and the Note made payable to the proper Lady, or her Aſſigns, (with a Clauſe therein to hinder her from receiving it, till the fortunate Perſon that draws her ſhall firſt ſign the Note) and ſo on till the whole Sum is ſubſcribed for: And as ſoon as 100000 Subſcriptions are compleated, and 200 Crowns more to pay the Charges, the Lottery ſhall be drawn at a proper Place, to be appointed a Fortnight before the Drawing.

Note, Mr. Bickerſtaff objects to the marriageable Years here mentioned; and is of Opinion, they ſhould not commence till after Twenty three. But he appeals to the Learned, both of Warwick-Lane and Biſhopſgate-Street, on this Subject.

The TATLER. [No 201.
From Thurſd. July 20. to Saturd. July 22. 1710.

IT has been often aſſerted in theſe Papers, That the great Source of our wrong Purſuits is the impertinent Manner with which we treat Women, both in the common and important Circumſtances of Life. In vain do we ſay, the whole Sex would run into England, while the Privileges which are allowed them, do no way ballance the [51] Inconveniencies ariſing from thoſe very Immunities. Our Women have very much indulged to them in the Participation of our Fortunes and our Liberty; but the Errors they commit in the Uſe of either, are by no means ſo impartially conſidered, as the falſe Steps which are made by Men. In the Commerce of Lovers, the Man makes the Addreſs, aſſails, and betrays, and yet ſtands in the ſame Degree of Acceptance as he was in before he committed that Treachery: The Woman, for no other Crime but believing one whom ſhe thought loved her, is treated with Shineſs and Indifference at the beſt, and commonly with Reproach and Scorn. He that is paſt the Power of Beauty, may talk of this Matter with the ſame Unconcern as of any other Subject: Therefore I ſhall take upon me to conſider the Sex, as they live within Rules, and as they tranſgreſs them. The ordinary Claſs of the Good or the Ill have very little Influence upon the Actions of others; but the Eminent in either Kind are thoſe who lead the World below them. The Ill are employed in communicating Scandal, Infamy, and Diſeaſe, like Furies; the Good diſtribute Benevolence, Friendſhip, and Health, like Angels. The Ill are damped with Pain and Anguiſh at the Sight of all that is laudable, lovely, or happy. The Virtuous are touched with Commiſeration toward the Guilty, the Diſagreeable, and the Wretched. There are thoſe who betray the Innocent of their own Sex, and ſollicit the Lewd of ours. There are thoſe who have abandoned the very Memory, not only of Innocence, but Shame. There are thoſe who never forgave, nor could ever bear being forgiven. There are alſo who viſit the Beds of the Sick, lull the Cares of the Sorrowful, and double the Joys of the Joyful. Such is the deſtroying Fiend, ſuch the Guardian Angel, Woman.

[52] The Way to have a greater Number of the amiable Part of Womankind, and leſſen the Crowd of the other Sort, is to contribute what we can to the Succeſs of well-grounded Paſſions; and therefore I comply with the Requeſt of an enamoured Man in inſerting the following Billet:

MADAM,

MR. Bickerſtaff you always read, tho' me you will never hear. I am obliged therefore to his Compaſſion for the Opportunity of imploring yours—I ſigh for the moſt Accompliſhed of her Sex. That is ſo juſt a Diſtinction of her to whom I write, that the owning I think ſo is no Diſtinction of me who write. Your good Qualities are peculiar to you, my Admiration in common with Thouſands. I ſhall be preſent when you read this, but fear every Woman will take it for her Character, ſooner than ſhe who deſerves it.

If the next Letter which preſents it ſelf ſhould come from the Miſtreſs of this modeſt Lover, and I make them break through the Oppreſſion of their Paſſions, I ſhall expect Gloves at their Nuptials.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

YOU that are a Philoſopher know very well the Make of the Mind of Woman, and can beſt iuſtruct me in the Conduct of an Affair which highly concerns me. I never can admit my Lover to ſpeak to me of Love, yet think him impertinent when he offers to talk of any Thing elſe. What ſhall I do with a Man that always believes me? 'Tis a ſtrange Thing, this Diſtance in Men of Senſe; Why do not they always urge their Fate? If we are ſincere in our Severity, you loſe nothing by attempting. If we are Hypocrites, you certainly ſucceed.

[53]

Before I withdraw from Buſineſs for the Night, it is my Cuſtom to receive all Addreſſes to me, that others may go to Reſt as well as my ſelf, at leaſt as far as I can contribute to it. When I called to know if any would ſpeak with me, I was informed that Mr. Mills, the Player, deſired to be admitted. He was ſo, and with much Modeſty acquainted me, as he did other People of Note, that Hamlet was to be acted on Wedneſday next for his Benefit. I had long wanted to ſpeak with this Perſon, becauſe I thought I could admoniſh him of many Things which would tend to his Improvement. In the General I obſerved to him, That though Action was his Buſineſs, the Way to that Action was not to ſtudy Geſture, for the Behaviour would follow the Sentiments of the Mind.

Action to the Player, is what Speech is to an Orator. If the Matter be well conceived, Words will flow with Eaſe: And if the Actor is well poſſeſſed of the Nature of his Part, a proper Action will neceſſarily follow. He informed me, That Wilks was to act Hamlet, I deſired him, to requeſt of him in my Name, That he would wholly forget Mr. Betterton; for that he failed in no Part of Othello, but where he had him in View. An Actor's forming himſelf by the Carriage of another, is like the Trick among the Widows, who lament their Husbands as their Neighbours did theirs, and not according to their own Sentiments of the Deceaſed.

There is a Fault alſo in the Audience which interrupts their Satisfaction very much, that is, the figuring to themſelves the Actor in ſome Part wherein they formerly particularly liked him, and not attending to the Part he is at that Time performing. Thus, whatever Wilks, (who is [54] the ſtricteſt Follower of Nature) is acting, the vulgar Spectators turn their Thoughts upon Sir Harry Wildair. When I had indulged the Loquacity of an old Man for ſome Time in ſuch looſe Hints, I took my Leave of Mr. Mills, and was told, Mr. Elliot of St. James's Coffee-houſe would ſpeak with me. His Buſineſs was to deſire I would, as I am an Aſtrologer, let him know before-hand who were to have the Benefit-Tickets in the enſuing Lottery; which Knowledge he was of Opinion he could turn to great Account, as he was concerned in News.

I granted his Requeſt, upon an Oath of Secrecy, That he would only make his own Uſe of it, and not let it be publickly known till after they were drawn. I had not done ſpeaking, when he produced to me a Plan which he had formed of keeping Books, with the Names of all ſuch Adventurers, and the Numbers of their Tickets, as ſhould come to him, in order to give an Hourly Account of what Tickets ſhall come up during the whole Time of the Lottery, the Drawing of which is to begin on Wedneſday next. I liked his Method of diſguiſing the Secret I had told him, and pronounced him a thriving Man who could ſo well watch the Motion of Things, and profit by a prevailing Humour and Impatience ſo aptly, as to make his honeſt Induſtry agreeable to his Cuſtomers, as it is to be the Meſſenger of their good Fortune.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Ordered, That for the Improvement of the Pleaſures of Society, a Member of this Houſe, one of the moſt wakeful of the Soporifick Aſſembly beyond Smithfield-Bars, and one of the Order of Story-Tellers in Holborn, may meet and exchange Stale Matter, and report the ſame to their Principals.

[55] N. B. No Man is to tell above one Story in the ſame Evening; but has Liberty to tell the ſame the Night following.

Mr. Bickerſtaff deſires his Love Correſpondents to vary the Names they ſhall aſſume in their future Letters, for that he is overſtock'd with Philanders.

The TATLER. [No 202.
From Saturd, July 22. to Tueſd. July 25. 1710.

— Eſt hic,
Eſt ulubris Animus ſi te non deficit aequus.
Hor.

THIS Afternoon I went to viſit a Gentleman of my Acquaintance at Mile-End, and paſſing through Stepney Church-yard, I could not forbear entertaining my ſelf with the Inſcriptions on the Tombs and Graves. Among others, I obſerved one with this notable Memorial:

Here lies the Body of T. B.

This fantaſtical Deſire of being remembered only by the Two firſt Letters of a Name, led me into the Contemplation of the Vanity and imperfect Attainments of Ambition in general. When I run back in my Imagination all the Men whom I have ever known and converſed with in my whole Life, there are but very few who have not uſed their Faculties in the Purſuit of what it is impoſſible to acquire, or left the Poſſeſſion of what they might have been (at their ſetting out) Maſters, to ſearch for it where it was out of their Reach. In this Thought it was not poſſible to [56] forget the Inſtance of Pyrrhus, who propoſing to himſelf in Diſcourſe with a Philoſopher, one, and another, and another Conqueſt, was asked, What he would do after all that? Then, ſays the King, we will make merry. He was well anſwered, What hinders your doing that in the Condition you are already? The reſtleſs Deſire of exerting themſelves above the common Level of Mankind is not to be reſiſted in ſome Tempers; and Minds of this Make may be obſerved in every Condition of Life. Where ſuch Men do not make to themſelves or meet with Employment, the Soil of their Conſtitution runs into Tares and Weeds. An old Friend of mine, who loſt a Major's Poſt Forty Years ago, and quitted, has ever ſince ſtudied Maps, Encampments, Retreats, and Countermarches, with no other Deſign but to feed his Spleen and Ill-Humour, and furniſh himſelf with Matter for arguing againſt all the ſucceſsful Actions of others. He that at his firſt ſetting out in the World was the gayeſt Man in our Regiment, ventured his Life with Alacrity, and enjoyed it with Satisfaction, encouraged Men below him, and was courted by Men above him, has been ever ſince the moſt froward Creature breathing. His warm Complexion ſpends it ſelf now only in a general Spirit of Contradiction; for which he watches all Occaſions, and is in his Converſation ſtill upon Sentry, treats all Men like Enemies, with every other Impertinence of a ſpeculative Warrior.

He that obſerves in himſelf this natural Inquietude, ſhould take all imaginable Care to put his Mind in ſome Method of Gratification, or he will ſoon find himſelf grow into the Condition of this diſappointed Major. Inſtead of courting proper Occaſions to riſe above others, he will be ever ſtudious of pulling others down to him: It being the common Refuge of diſappointed Ambition, to eaſe themſelves by Detraction. It would [57] be no great Argument againſt Ambition, that there are ſuch mortal Things in the Diſappointment of it; but it certainly is a forcible Exception, that there can be no ſolid Happineſs in the Succeſs of it. If we value popular Praiſe, it is in the Power of the meaneſt of the People to diſturb us by Calumny. If the Fame of being happy, we cannot look into a Village but we ſee Crowds in actual Poſſeſſion of what we ſeek only the Appearance. To this may be added, that there is I know not what Malignity in the Minds of ordinary Men to oppoſe you in what they ſee you fond of; and it is a certain Exception againſt a Man's receiving Applauſe, that he viſibly courts it. However this is not only the Paſſion of great and undertaking Spirts, but you ſee it in the Lives of ſuch as one would believe were far enough removed from the Ways of Ambition. The Rural Squires of this Nation even eat and drink out of Vanity. A vain-glorious Fox-hunter ſhall entertain half a County for the Oſtentation of his Beef and Beer, without the leaſt Affection for any of the Crowd about him. He feeds them, becauſe he thinks it a Superiority over them that he does ſo; and they devour him, becauſe they know he treats them out of Inſolence. This indeed is Ambition in Groteſque, but may figure to us the Condition of politer Men, whoſe only Purſuit is Glory. When the Superior acts out of a Principle of Vanity, the Dependant will be ſure to allow it him; becauſe he knows it deſtructive of the very Applauſe which is courted by the Man who favours him, and conſequently makes him nearer himſelf.

But as every Man living has more or leſs of this Incentive, which makes Men impatient of an unactive Condition, and urges Men to attempt what may tend to their Reputation, it is abſolutely neceſſary they ſhould form to themſelves an Ambition which is in every Man's Power to [58] gratify. This Ambition would be independent, and would conſiſt only in acting what to a Man's own Mind appears moſt great and laudable. It is a Purſuit in the Power of every Man, and is only a regular Proſecution of what he himſelf approves. It is what can be interrupted by no outward Accidents, for no Man can be robbed of his good Intention. One of our Society of the Trumpet therefore ſtarted laſt Night a Notion which I thought had Reaſon in it. It is, methinks, ſaid he, an unreaſonable Thing, that Heroick Virtue ſhould (as it ſeems to be at preſent) be confined to a certain Order of Men, and be attainable by none but thoſe whom Fortune has elevated to the moſt conſpicuous Stations. I would have every Thing to be eſteemed as Heroick which is great and uncommon in the Circumſtances in the Man who performs it. Thus there would be no Virtue in humane Life which every one of the Species would not have a Pretence to arrive at, and an Ardency to exert. Since Fortune is not in our Power, let us be as little as poſſible in hers. Why ſhould it be neceſſary that a Man ſhould be rich, to be generous? If we meaſured by the Quality, and not the Quantity, of Things, the Particulars which accompany an Action, is what ſhould denominate it mean or great. The higheſt Station of humane Life is to be attained by each Man that pretends to it: For every Man can be as valiant, as generous, as wiſe, and as merciful, as the Faculties and Opportunities which he has from Heaven and Fortune will permit. He that can ſay to himſelf, I do as much good, and am as virtuous, as my moſt earneſt Endeavours will allow me, whatever is his Station in the World, is to himſelf poſſeſſed of the higheſt Honour. If Ambition is not thus turned, it is no other than a continual Succeſſion of Anxiety and Vexation. But when it has this Caſt, it invigorates the Mind, and the Conſciouſneſs of [59] its own Worth is a Reward which it is not in the Power of Envy, Reproach, or Detraction, to take from it. Thus the Seat of ſolid Honour is in a Man's own Boſom, and no one can want Support who is in Poſſeſſion of an honeſt Conſcience, but he who would ſuffer the Reproaches of it for other Greatneſs.

P. S. I was going on in my Philoſophy, when Notice was brought me, that there was a great Crowd in my Antichamber, who expected Audience. When they were admitted, I found they all met at my Lodgings (each coming upon the ſame Errand) to know whether they were of the Fortunate in the Lottery which is now ready to be drawn. I was much at a Loſs how to extricate my ſelf from their Importunity; but obſerving the Aſſembly made up of both Sexes, I ſignified to them, that in this Caſe it would appear Fortune is not blind, for all the Lots would fall upon the Wiſeſt and the Faireſt. This gave ſo general a Satisfaction, that the Room was ſoon emptied, and the Company retired with the beſt Air, and the moſt pleaſing Grace, I had any where obſerved. Mr. Elliot of St. James's Coffee-houſe now ſtood alone before me, and ſignified to me, he had now not only prepared his Books, but had received a very great Subſcription already. His Deſign was, to advertiſe his Subſcribers at their reſpective Places of Abode, within an Hour after their Number is drawn, whether it was a Blank or Benefit, if the Adventurer lives within the Bills of Mortality, if he dwells in the Country, by the next Poſt. I encouraged the Man in his Induſtry, and told him, The ready Path to good Fortune, was to believe there was no ſuch Thing.

The TATLER. [No 203.
From Tueſday July 25. to Thurſday July 27. 1710.

[60]
Ut tu Fortunam, ſic nos te, Celſe, feremus.
Hor.

IT is natural for the Imaginations of Men, who lead their Lives in too ſolitary a Manner, to prey upon themſelves, and form from their own Conceptions Beings and Things which have no Place in Nature. This often makes an Adept as much at a Loſs when he comes into the World as a meer Savage. To avoid therefore that Ineptitude for Society, which is frequently the Fault of us Scholars, and has to Men of Underſtanding and Breeding ſomething much more ſhocking and untractable than Ruſticity it ſelf, I take Care to viſit all publick Solemnities, and go into Aſſemblies as often as my Studies will permit. This being therefore the firſt Day of the Drawing of the Lottery, I did not neglect ſpending a conſiderable Time in the Crowd: But as much a Philoſopher as I pretend to be, I could not but look with a Sort of Veneration upon the Two Boys which received the Tickets from the Wheels, as the impartial and equal Diſpenſers of the Fortunes which were to be diſtributed among the Crowd, who all ſtood expecting the ſame Chance. It ſeems at firſt Thought very wonderful, that one Paſſion ſhould ſo univerſally have the Preeminence of another in the Poſſeſſion of Men's Minds as that in this Caſe; all in general have a ſecret Hope of the great Ticket: And yet Fear in another Inſtance, as in going into a Battle ſhall [61] have ſo little Influence, as that though each Man believes there will be many Thouſands ſlain, each is conſident he himſelf ſhall eſcape. This Certainty proceeds from our Vanity; for every Man ſees abundance in himſelf that deſerves Reward, and nothing which ſhould meet with Mortification. But of all the Adventurers that filled the Hall, there was one who ſtood by me, who I could not but fancy expected the Thouſand Pounds per Annum, as a meer Juſtice to his Parts and Induſtry. He had his Pencil and Table-Book, and was at the drawing of each Lot, counting how much a Man with Seven Tickets was now nearer the great Prize, by the ſtriking out another, and another Competitor. This Man was of the moſt particular Conſtitution I had ever obſerved; his Paſſions were ſo active, that he worked in the utmoſt Stretch of Hope and Fear. When one Rival fell before him, you might ſee a ſhort Gleam of Triumph in his Countenance, which immediately vaniſhed at the Approach of another. What added to the Particularity of this Man, was, that he every Moment caſt a Look, either upon the Commiſſioners, the Wheels, or the Boys. I gently whiſpered him, and asked, When he thought the Thouſand Pounds would come up? Pugh! ſays he, Who knows that? And then looks upon a little Liſt of his own Tickets, which were pretty high in their Numbers, and ſaid it would not come this Ten Days. This Fellow will have a good Chance, though not that which he has put his Heart on. The Man is mechanically turned, and made for getting. The Simplicity and Eagerneſs which he is in, argues an Attention to his Point; though what he is labouring at does not in the leaſt contribute to it. Were it not for ſuch honeſt Fellows as theſe, the Men who govern the reſt of their Species would have no Tools to work with: For the outward Show of the World is carried on by ſuch as cannot [62] find out that they are doing nothing. I left my Man with great Reluctance, ſeeing the Care he took to obſerve the whole Conduct of the Perſons concerned, and compute the Inequality of the Chances with his own Hands and Eyes. Dear Sir, ſaid I, they muſt riſe early that cheat you. Ay, ſaid he, there's nothing like a Man's minding his Buſineſs himſelf. 'Tis very true, ſaid I, The Maſter's Eye makes the Horſe fat.

As it is much the greater Number who are to go without Prizes, it is but very Expedient to turn our Lecture to the forming juſt Sentiments on the Subject of Fortune. One ſaid this Morning, That the Chief Lot he was conſident would fall upon ſome Puppy; but this Gentleman is one of thoſe wrong Tempers who approve only the Unhappy, and have a natural Prejudice to the Fortunate. But as it is certain that there is a great Meanneſs in being attacked to a Man purely for his Fortune, there is no leſs a Meanneſs in diſliking him for his Happineſs. It is the ſame Perverſeneſs under different Colours, and both theſe Reſentments ariſe from meer Pride.

The true Greatneſs of Mind conſiſts in valuing Men apart from their Circumſtances, or according to their Behaviour in them. Wealth is a Diſtinction only in Traffick; but it muſt not be allowed as a Recommendation in any other Particular, but only juſt as it is applied. It was very prettily ſaid, That we may learn the little Value of Fortune by the Perſons on whom Heaven is pleaſed to beſtow it. However, there is not a harder Part in Humane Life, than becoming Wealth and Greatneſs. He muſt be very well ſtock'd with Merit, who is not willing to draw ſome Superiority over his Friends from his Fortune; For it is not every Man that can entertain with [63] the Air of a Gueſt, and do good Offices with the Mien of one that receives them.

I muſt confeſs, I cannot conceive how a Man can place himſelf in a Figure wherein he can ſo much enjoy his own Soul, and that greateſt of Pleaſures, the juſt Approbation of his own Actions, than as an Adventurer on this Occaſion, to ſit and ſee the Lots go off without Hope or Fear, perfectly unconcerned as to himſelf, but taking Part in the good Fortune of others.

I will believe there are happy Tempers in being, to whom all the Good that arrives to any of their Fellow-Creatures gives a Pleaſure. Theſe live in a Courſe of ſubſtantial and laſting Happineſs, and have the Satisfaction to ſee all Men endeavour to gratify them. This State of Mind not only lets a Man into certain Enjoyments, but relieves him from as certain Anxieties. If you will not rejoice with happy Men, you muſt repine at them. Dick Reptile alluded to this when he ſaid, He would hate no Man out of pure Idleneſs. As for my own Part, I look at Fortune quite in another View than the reſt of the World; and, by my Knowledge in Futurity, tremble at the approaching Prize, which I ſee coming to a young Lady for whom I have much Tenderneſs; and have therefore writ her the following Letter, to be ſent by Mr. Elliot with the Notice of her Ticket.

MADAM,

YOU receive at the Inſtant this comes to your Hands, an Account of your having (what only you wanted) Fortune; and to admoniſh you, that you may not now want every Thing elſe. You had yeſterday Wit, Virtue, Beauty; but you never heard of them till to Day. They ſay Fortune is blind; but you will find ſhe has opened the Eyes of all your Beholders. I beſeech you, Madam, make uſe of the [64] Advantages of having been educated without Flattery. If you can ſtill be Chloe, Fortune has indeed been kind to you; if you are al [...]ered, ſhe has it not in her Power to give you an Equivalent.

Some Time ago a Virtuoſo, my very good Friend, ſent me a Plan of a covered Summerhouſe, which a little after was rallied by another of my Correſpondents. I cannot therefore defer giving him an Opportunity of making his Defence to the Learned in his own Words.

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq

SIR,

I Have been this Summer upon a Ramble to viſit ſeveral Friends and Relations; which is the Reaſon I have left you, and our ingenious, unknown Friend of South-Wales, ſo long in your Error concerning the Graſs-plots in my Green-houſe. I will not give you the Particulars of my Gardiner's Conduct in the Management of my covered Garden, but content my ſelf with letting you know, that my little Fields within Doors, though by their Novelty they appear too extravagant to you to ſubſiſt even in a regular Imagination, are in the Effect Things that require no Conjuration. Your Correſpondent may depend upon it, that under a ſaſhed Roof, which lets in the Sun at all Times, and the Air as often as is convenient, he may have Graſs-plots in the greateſt Perfection, if he will be at the Pains to water, mow, and roll them. Graſs and Herbs in general, the leſs they are expoſed to the Sun and Wind, the livelier is their Verdure. They require only Warmth and Moiſture; and if you were to ſee my Plots, your Eye would ſoon confeſs, that the Bowling-Green at Marybone wears not half ſo bright a Livery.

[65] The Motto with which the Gentleman has been pleaſed to furniſh you, is ſo very proper, and pleaſes me ſo well, that I deſign to have it ſet upon the Front of my Green-houſe in Letters of Gold.

I am, Sir, &c.

The TATLER. [No 204.
From Thurſd. July 27. to Saturday July 29. 1710.

— Gaudent prae Nomine molles
Auriculae. —

MAny are the Inconveniencies which happen from the improper Manner of Addreſs in common Speech, between Perſons of the ſame or of different Quality. Among theſe Errors, there is none greater than that of the impertinent Uſe of Title, and a paraphraſtical Way of ſaying, You. I had the Curioſity the other Day to follow a Crowd of People near Billingſgate, who were conducting a paſſionate Woman who ſold Fiſh to a Magiſtrate, in order to explain ſome Words which were ill taken by one of her own Quality and Profeſſion in the publick Market. When ſhe came to make her Defence, ſhe was ſo very full of, His Worſhip, and of, If it ſhould pleaſe his Honour, that we could for ſome Time hardly hear any other Apology ſhe made for her ſelf, than that of attoning for the ill Language ſhe had been accuſed of towards her Neighbour by the great Civilities ſhe paid to her Judge. But this Extravagance in her Senſe of doing Honour, was no more to be wondered at, than that her many [66] Rings on each Finger were worn as Inſtances of Finery and Dreſs. The Vulgar may thus heap and huddle Terms of Reſpect, and nothing better be expected from them; but for People of Rank to repeat Appellatives inſignificantly, is a Folly not to be endured, neither with Regard to our Times or our Underſtanding. It is below the Dignity of Speech to extend it with more Words or Phraſes than are neceſſary to explain our ſelves with Elegance: And it is, methinks, an Inſtance of Ignorance, if not of Servitude, to be redundant in ſuch Expreſſions.

I waited upon a Man of Quality ſome Mornings ago: He happened to be dreſſing; and his Shoemaker fitting him, told him, That if his Lordſhip would pleaſe to tread hard, or that if his Lordſhip would ſtamp a little, his Lordſhip would find his Lordſhip's Shoe will fit as eaſie as any Piece of Work his Lordſhip ſhould ſee in England. As ſoon as my Lord was dreſſed, a Gentleman approached him with a very good Air, and told him, he had an Affair which had long depended in the Lower Courts, which, through the Inadvertency of his Anceſtors on the one Side, and the ill Arts of their Adverſaries on the other, could not poſſibly be ſettled according to the Rules of the Lower Courts: That therefore he deſigned to bring his Cauſe before the Houſe of Lords next Seſſion, where he ſhould be glad if his Lordſhip ſhould happen to be preſent; for he doubted not but his Cauſe would be approved by all Men of Juſtice and Honour. In this Place the Word Lordſhip was gracefully inſerted, becauſe it was applied to him in that Circumſtance wherein his Quality was the Occaſion of the Diſcourſe, and wherein it was moſt uſeful to the one, and moſt honourable to the other.

This Way is ſo far from being diſreſpectful to the Honour of Nobles, that it is an Expedien [...] [67] for uſing them with greater Deference. I would not put Lordſhip to a Man's Hat, Gloves, Wig, or Cane; but to deſire his Lordſhip's Favour, his Lordſhip's Judgment, or his Lordſhip's Patronage, is a Manner of ſpeaking, which expreſſes an Alliance between his Quality and his Merit. It is this Knowledge which diſtinguiſhed the Diſcourſe of the Shoemaker from that of the Gentleman. The higheſt Point of good Breeding, if any one can hit it, is to ſhow a very nice Regard to your own Dignity, and with that in your Heart expreſs your Value for the Man above you.

But the ſilly Humour to the contrary has ſo much prevailed, that the ſlaviſh Addition of Title enervates Diſcourſe, and renders the Application of it almoſt ridiculous. We Writers of Diurnals are nearer in our Styles to that of common Talk than any other Writers, by which Means we uſe Words of Reſpect ſometimes very unfortunately. The Poſt-Man, who is one of the moſt celebrated of our Fraternity, fell into this Misfortune Yeſterday in his Paragraph from Berlin of July 26. Count Wartemberg (ſays he) Great Chamberlain, and Chief Miniſter of this Court, who on Monday leſt accompanied the King of Pruſſia to Oranienburg, was taken ſo very ill, th [...] [...] Wedneſday has Life was deſpaired of; and we had a Report, that his Excellency was dead.

I humbly preſume, that it ſlattens the Narration, to ſay his Excellency in a Caſe which is common to all Men; except you would infer what is not to be inferred, to wit, That the Author deſigned to ſay, All wherein he excelled others was departed from him.

Were Diſtinctions uſed according to the Rules of Reaſon and Senſe, thoſe Additions to Men's Names would be, as they were firſt intended, ſignificant of their Worth, and not their Perſons; ſo that in ſome Caſes it might be proper to ſay, [68] The Man is dead, but his Excellency will never die. It is, methinks, very unjuſt to laugh at a Quaker, becauſe he has taken up a Reſolution to treat you with a Word, the moſt expreſſive of Complaiſance that can be thought of, and with an Air of good Nature and Charity calls you Friend. I ſay, it is very unjuſt to rally him for this Term to a Stranger, when you your ſelves, in all your Phraſes of Diſtinction, confound Phraſes of Honour into no Uſe at all.

Tom. Courtly, who is the Pink of Courteſy, is an Inſtance of how little Moment an undiſtinguiſhing Application of Sounds of Honour are to thoſe who underſtand themſelves. Tom. never fails of paying his Obeiſance to every Man he ſees, who has Title or Office to make him conſpicuous; but his Deference is wholly given to outward Conſiderations. I, who know him, can tell within half an Acre how much Land one Man has more than another by Tom's Bow to him. Title is all he knows of Honour, and Civility of Friendſhip: For this Reaſon, becauſe he cares for no Man living, he is religiouſly ſtrict in performing what he calls his Reſpects to you. To this End he is very learned in Pedigree, and will aba [...] ſomething in the Ceremony of his Approaches to a Man, if he is in any Doubt about the bearing of his Coat of Arms. What is the moſt pleaſan [...] of all his Character is, That he acts with a So [...] of Integrity in theſe Impertinencies; and thoug [...] he would not do any Man any ſolid Kindneſs, h [...] is wonderfully juſt and careful not to wrong h [...] Quality. But as Integrity is very ſcarce in th [...] World, I cannot forbear having Reſpect for th [...] Impertinent: It is ſome Virtue to be bound b [...] any Thing. Tom. and I are upon very goo [...] Terms for the Reſpect he has for the Houſe [...] Bickerſtaff. Tho' one cannot but laugh at his f [...] rious Conſideration of Things ſo little eſſenti [...] one muſt have a Value even for a frivolous go [...] Conſcience.

The TATLER. [No 205.
From Saturd. July 29. to Tueſd. Aug. 1. 1710.

[69]
[...]
[...]
Heſiod.

NAture has implanted in us Two very ſtrong Deſires, Hunger for the Preſervation of the Individual, and Luſt for the Support of the Species; or, to ſpeak more intelligibly, the former to continue our own Perſons, and the latter to introduce others into the World. According as Men behave themſelves with regard to theſe Appetites, they are above or below the Beaſts of the Field, which are incited by them without Choice or Reflection. But reaſonable Creatures correct theſe Incentives, and improve them into elegant Motives of Friendſhip and Society. It is chiefly from this homely Foundation, that we are under the Neceſſity of ſeeking for the agreeable Companion, and the honourable Miſtreſs. By this Cultivation of Art and Reaſon, our Wants are made Pleaſures, and the Gratification of our Deſires, under proper Reſtrictions, a Work no Way below our nobleſt Faculties. The wiſeſt Man may maintain his Character, and yet conſider in what Manner he ſhall beſt entertain his Friend, or divert his Miſtreſs: Nay, it is ſo far from being a Derogation to him, that he can in [...]o other Inſtances ſhow ſo true a Taſt of his Life, or his Fortune. What concerns one of the [...]bove-mentioned Appetites, as it is elevated into [...]ove, I ſhall have abundant Occaſion to diſcourſe [70] of before I have provided for the numberleſs Crowd of Damſels I have propoſed to take Care of. The Subject therefore of the preſent Paper ſhall be that Part of Society which owes its Beginning to the common Neceſſity of Hunger. When this is conſidered as the Support of our Being, we may take in under the ſame Head Thirſt alſo; otherwiſe when we are purſuing the Glutton, the Drunkard may make his Eſcape. The true Choice of our Diet, and our Companions at it, ſeems to conſiſt in that which contributes moſt to Chearfulneſs and Refreſhment: And theſe certainly are beſt conſulted by Simplicity in the Food, and Sincerity in the Company. By this Rule are in the firſt Place excluded from Pretence to Happineſs all Meals of State and Ceremony, which are performed in dumb Shew, and greedy Sullenneſs. At the Boards of the Great, they ſay, you ſhall have a Number attending with as good Habits and Countenances as the Gueſts, which only Circumſtance muſt deſtroy the whole Pleaſure of the Repaſt: For if ſuch Attendants are introduced for the Dignity of their Appearance, modeſt Minds are ſhocked by conſidering them as Spectators, or elſe look upon them as Equals, for whoſe Servitude they are in a Kind of Suffering. It may be here added, that the ſumptuous Sideboard to an ingenious Eye has often more the Air of an Altar than a Table. The next abſurd Way of enjoying our ſelves at Meals, is, where the Bottle is ply'd without being called for [...] where Humour takes Place of Appetite, and the good Company are too dull or too merry to know any Enjoyment in their Senſes.

Tho' this Part of Time is abſolutely neceſſar [...] to ſuſtain Life, it muſt be alſo conſidered, Tha [...] Life it ſelf is to the endleſs Being of Man b [...] what a Meal is to this Life, not valuable for [...] ſelf, but for the Purpoſes of it. If there be an [...] Truth in this, the Expence of many Hours th [...] [71] Way is ſomewhat unaccountable; and placing much Thought either in too great Sumptuouſneſs and Elegance in this Matter, or wallowing in Noiſe and Riot at it, are both, tho' not equally, unaccountable. I have often conſidered theſe different People with very great Attention, and always ſpeak of them with the Diſtinction of the Eaters, and the Swallowers. The Eaters ſacrifice all their Senſes and Underſtanding to this Appetite: The Swallowers hurry themſelves out of both, without pleaſing this or any other Appetite at all. The latter are improved Brutes, the former degenerated Men. I have ſometimes thought it would not be improper to add to my Dead and Living Men, Perſons in an intermediate State of Humanity, under the Appellation of Dozers. The Dozers are a Sect, who, inſtead of keeping their Appetites in Subjection, live in Subjection to them; nay, they are ſo truly Slaves to them, that they keep at too great a Diſtance ever to come into their Preſence. Within my own Acquaintance, I know thoſe that I dare ſay have forgot that they ever were hungry, and are no leſs utter Strangers to Thirſt and Wearineſs, who are beholden to Sauces for their Food, and to their Food for their Wearineſs.

I have often wondered, confidering the excellent and choice Spirits that we have among our Divines, that they do not think of putting vicious Habits into a more contemptible and unlovely Figure than they do at preſent. So many Men of Wit and Spirit as there are in Sacred Orders, have it in their Power to make the Faſhion of their Side. The Leaders in humane Society are more effectually prevailed upon this Way than can eaſily be imagined. I have more than one in my Thoughts at this Time capable of doing this againſt all the Oppoſition of the moſt Witty, as well as the moſt Voluptuous. There may poſſibly be more acceptable Subjects, but ſure there are none more [72] uſeful. It is viſible, that tho' Mens Fortunes, Circumſtances, and Pleaſures, give them Prepoſſeſſions too ſtrong to regard any Mention either of Puniſhments or Rewards, they will liſten to what makes them inconſiderable or mean in the Imaginations of others, and by Degrees in their own.

It is certain ſuch Topicks are to be touched upon in the Light we mean, only by Men of the moſt conſummate Prudence, as well as excellent Wit: For theſe Diſcourſes are to be made, if made to run into Example, before ſuch as have their Thoughts more intent upon the Propriety than the Reaſon of the Diſcourſe. What indeed leads me into this Way of Thinking, is, That the laſt Thing I read was a Sermon of the learned Dr. South, upon the Ways of Pleaſantneſs. This admirable Diſcourſe was made at Court, where the Preacher was too wiſe a Man not to believe, the greateſt Argument, in that Place, againſt the Pleaſures then in Vogue, muſt be, that they loſt greater Pleaſures by proſecuting the Courſe they were in. The Charming Diſcourſe has in it whatever Wit and Wiſdom can put together. This Gentleman has a Talent of making all his Faculties bear to the great End of his hallowed Profeſſion. Happy Genius! He is the better Man for being a Wit. The beſt Way to praiſe this Author is to quote him; and, I think, I may defy any Man to ſay a greater Thing of him, or his Ability, than that there are no Paragraphs in the whole Diſcourſe I ſpeak of below theſe which follow.

After having recommended the Satisfaction of the Mind, and the Pleaſure of Conſcience, he proceeds:

An ennobling Property of it is, That it is ſuch a Pleaſure as never ſatiates or wearies; for it properly affects the Spirit, and a Spirit feels no Wearineſs, as being privileged from the [73] Cauſes of it. But can the Epicure ſay ſo of any of the Pleaſures he ſo much dotes upon? Do they not expire while they ſatisfy, and after a few Minutes Refreſhment determine in Loathing and Unquietneſs? How ſhort is the Interval between a Pleaſure and a Burthen? How undiſcernable the Tranſition from one to the other: Pleaſure dwells no longer upon the Appetie than the Neceſſities of Nature, which are quickly and eaſily provided for; and then all that follows is a Load and an Oppreſſion. Every Morſel to a ſatisfied Hunger, is only a new Labour to a tired Digeſtion. Every Draught to him that has quenched his Thirſt, is but a further quenching of Nature, and a Proviſion for Rheum and Diſeaſes, a Drowning of the Quickneſs and Activity of the Spirits.

He that prolongs his Meals, and ſacrifices his Time, as well as his other Conveniencies, to his Luxury, How quickly does he outſit his Pleaſure? And then, How is all the following Time beſtowed upon Ceremony and Surfeit? Till at length, after a long Fatigue of Eating, and Drinking, and Babbling, he concludes the great Work of dining genteely, and ſo makes a Shift to riſe from Table, that he may lie down upon his Bed; where, after he has ſlept himſelf into ſome Uſe of himſelf, by much ado he ſtaggers to his Table again, and there acts over the ſame brutiſh Scene: So that he paſſes his whole Life in a dozed Condition, between ſleeping and waking, with a Kind of Drowſineſs and Confuſion upon his Senſes, which, what Pleaſure it can be, is hard to conceive. All that is of it dwells upon the Tip of his Tongue, and within the Compaſs of his Palate. A worthy Prize for a Man to purchaſe with the Loſs of his Time, his Reaſon, and himſelf!

The TATLER. [No 206
From Tueſday Aug. 1. to Thurſday Aug. 3. 1710

[74]
Metiri ſe quemque ſuo Module ac Pede verum eſt
Hor

THE general Purpoſes of Men in the Conduct of their Lives, (I mean with relatio [...] to this Life only) end in gaining either the Affection or the Eſteem of thoſe with whom the [...] converſe. Eſteem makes a Man powerful in Buſineſs, and Affection deſirable in Converſation, which is certainly the Reaſon that very agreeabl [...] Men fail of their Point in the World; and thoſ [...] who are by no Means ſuch, arrive at it with muc [...] Eaſe. If it be viſible in a Man's Carriage that h [...] has a ſtrong Paſſion to pleaſe, no one is much a [...] a Loſs how to keep Meaſures with him, becauſ [...] there is always a Ballance in People's Hands [...] make up with him, by giving him what he [...] wants in Exchange for what you think fit to de [...] him. Such a Perſon asks with Diffidence, [...] ever leaves Room for Denial by that Softneſs [...] his Complexion. At the ſame Time he himſe [...] is capable of denying nothing, even what he [...] not able to perform. The other Sort of Man w [...] courts Eſteem, having a quite different View, [...] as different a Behaviour, and acts as much by [...] Dictates of his Reaſon, as the other does by [...] Impulſe of his Inclination. You muſt pay [...] every Thing you have of him. He conſid [...] Mankind as a People in Commerce, and ne [...] gives out out of himſelf what he is ſure will [...] come in with Intereſt from another. All [...] [75] Words and Actions tend to the Advancement of his Reputation and of his Fortune, toward which he makes hourly Progreſs, becauſe he laviſhes no Part of his good Will upon ſuch as do not make ſome Advances to merit it. The Man who values Affection, ſometimes becomes popular; he who aims at Eſteem, ſeldom falls of growing rich.

Thus far we have looked at theſe different Men, as Perſons who endeavour to be valued and beloved from Deſign, or Ambition; but they appear in quite another Figure, when you obſerve the Men who are agreeable and venerable from the Force of their natural Inclinations. We affect the Company of him who has leaſt Regard of himſelf in his Carriage, who throws himſelf into unguarded Gaiety, voluntary Mirth, and general good Humour; who has nothing in his Head but the preſent Hour, and ſeems to have all his Intereſts and Paſſions gratified, if every Man elſe in the Room is as unconcerned as himſelf. This Man uſually has no Quality or Character among his Companions, let him be born of whom he will, have what great Qualities he pleaſe, let him be capable of aſſuming for a Moment what Figures he pleaſes, he ſtill dwells in the Imagination of all who know him but as Jack ſuch a One. This makes Jack brighten up the Room wherever he enters, and change the Severity of the Company into that Gaiety and good Humour into which his Converſation generally leads them. It is not unpleaſant to obſerve even this Sort of Creature go out of his Character, to check himſelf ſometimes for his Familiarities, and pretend ſo aukwardly at procuring to himſelf more eſteem than he finds he meets with. I was the other Day walking with Jack Gainly towards Lincoln's-Inn-Walks. We met a Fellow who is a Lower Officer where Jack is in the Direction. Jack cries to him, So, How is it Mr — [76] He anſwers, Mr. Gainly, I am glad to ſee yo [...] well. This Expreſſion of Equality gave m [...] Friend a Pang, which appeared in a Fluſh of hi [...] Countenance. Prithee Jack, ſays I, do not b [...] angry at the Man; for do what you will, th [...] Man can only love you, be contented with th [...] Image the Man has of thee; for if thou aimeſ [...] at any other, it muſt be Hatred or Contempt. I went on, and told him, Look'ee, Jack, I have heard thee ſometimes talk like an Oracle for half an Hour, with the Sentiments of a Roman, the Cloſeneſs of a School-man, and the Integrity of a Divine; but then, Jack, while I admired thee, it was upon Topicks which did not concern thy ſelf, and where the Greatneſs of the Subject, (added to thy being perſonally unconcerned in it) created all that was great in thy Diſcourſe. I did not mind his being a little out of Humour, but comforted him, by giving him ſeveral Inſtances of Men of our Acquaintance, who had no one Quality in any Eminence, that were much more eſteemed than he was with very many: But the Thing is, if your Character is to give Pleaſure, Men will conſider you only in that Light, and not in thoſe Acts which turn to Eſteem and Veneration.

When I think of Jack Gainly, I cannot but reflect alſo upon his Siſter Gatty. She is young, witty, pleaſant, innocent. This is her natural Character; but when ſhe obſerves any one admired for what they call a Fine Woman, ſhe i [...] all the next Day womanly, prudent, obſerving, and virtuous. She is every Moment asked in her prudential Behaviour, Whether ſhe is not well? Upon which ſhe as often anſwers in a Fret, Do People think one muſt be always romping, always a Jackpudding? I never fail to enquire o [...] her, If my Lady ſuch a One, that awful Beauty, was not at the Play laſt Night? She knows th [...] Connexion between that Queſtion and her Chang [...] [77] of Humour, and ſays, ‘'It would be very well, if ſome People would examine into themſelves as much as they do into others.'’ Or, ‘'Sure there is nothing in the World ſo ridiculous as an amorous old Man.'’

As I was ſaying, there is a Claſs which every Man is in by his Poſt in Nature, from which it is impoſſible for him to withdraw to another, and become it. Therefore it is neceſſary that each ſhould be contented with it, and not endeavour at any Progreſs out of that Tract. To follow Nature, is the only agreeable Courſe; which is what I would fain inculcate to thoſe jarring Companions, Flavia and Lucia. They are Mother and Daughter. Flavia, who is the Mamma, has all the Charms and Deſires of Youth ſtill about her, and not much turned of Thirty: Lucia is blooming and amorous, and but a little above Fifteen. The Mother looks very much younger than ſhe is, the Girl very much elder. If it were poſſible to fix the Girl to her ſick Bed, and preſerve the Portion (the Uſe of which the Mother partakes) the good Widow Flavia would certainly do it. But for fear of Lucia's Eſcape, the Mother is forced to be conſtantly attended with a Rival, that explains her Age, and draws off the Eyes of her Admirers. The Jeſt is, they can never be together in Strangers Company, but Lucy is eternally reprimanded for ſomething very particular in her Behaviour; for which ſhe has the Malice to ſay, She hopes ſhe ſhall always obey her Parents. She carried her Paſſion and Jealouſy to that Height the other Day, that coming ſuddenly into the Room, and ſurpriſing Colonel Lofty ſpeaking Rapture on one Knee to her Mother, ſhe clapped down by him, and asked her Bleſſing.

I do not know whether it is ſo proper to tell Family Occurrences of this Nature; but we every Day ſee the ſame Thing happen in the publick Converſation in the World. Men cannot be contented [78] with what is laudable, but they muſt have all that is laudable. This Affectation is what deſtroys the familiar Man into Pretences to take State upon him, and the contrary Character to the Folly of aiming at being winning and complaiſant. But in theſe Caſes, Men may eaſily lay aſide what they are, but can never arrive at what they are not.

As to the Purſuits after Affection and Eſteem, the Fair Sex are happy in this Particular, that with them the one is much more nearly related to the other than in Men. The Love of a Woman is inſeparable from ſome Eſteem of her; and as ſhe is naturally the Object of Affection, the Woman who has your Eſteem has alſo ſome Degree of your Love. A Man that dotes on a Woman for her Beauty, will whiſper his Friend, That Creature has a great deal of Wit when you are well acquainted with her. And if you examine the Bottom of your Eſteem for a Woman, you will find you have a greater Opinion of her Beauty than any Body elſe. As to us Men, I deſign to paſs moſt of my Time with the facetious Harry Bickerſtaff; but William Bickerſtaff, the moſt prudent Man of our Family, ſhall be my Executor.

The TATLER. [No 207.
From Thurſd. Aug. 3. to Saturd. Aug. 5. 1710.

HAving Yeſterday Morning received a Paper of Latin Verſes, written with much Elegance in Honour of theſe my Papers, and being informed at the ſame Time that they were compoſed by a Youth under Age, I read them with [79] much Delight, as an Inſtance of his Improvement. There is not a greater Pleaſure to old Age, than ſeeing young People entertain themſelves in ſuch a Manner as that we can partake of their Enjoyments. On ſuch Occaſions we flatter our ſelves, that we are not quite laid aſide in the World, but that we are either uſed with Gratitude for what we were, or honoured for what we are. A well inclined young Man, and whoſe good Breeding is founded upon the Principles of Nature and Virtue, muſt needs take Delight in being agreeable to his Elders, as we are truly delighted when we are not the Jeſt of them. When I ſay this, I muſt confeſs I cannot but think it a very lamentable Thing that there ſhould be a Neceſſity for making that a Rule of Life, which ſhould be, methinks, a meer Inſtinct of Nature. If Reflection upon a Man in Poverty, whom we once knew in Riches, is an Argument of Commiſeration with generous Minds; ſure old Age, which is a Decay from that Vigour which the Young poſſeſs, and muſt certainly (if not prevented againſt their Will) arrive at, ſhould be more forcibly the Object of that Reverence which honeſt Spirits are inclined to from a Senſe of being themſelves liable to what they obſerve has already overtaken others.

My Three Nephews, whom in June laſt was Twelvemonth I diſpoſed of according to their ſeveral Capacities and Inclinations, the firſt to the Univerſity, the Second to a Merchant, and the Third to a Woman of Quality as her Page, by my Invitation dined with me to Day. It is my Cuſtom often, when I have a Mind to give my ſelf a more than ordinary Chearfulneſs, to invite a certain young Gentlewoman of our Neighbourhood to make one of the Company. She did me that Favour this Day. The Preſence of a beautiful Woman of Honour, to Minds which are not trivially diſpoſed, diſplays an Alacrity which is [80] not to be communicated by any other Object. It was not unpleaſant to me to look into her Thoughts of the Company ſhe was in. She ſmiled at the Party of Pleaſure I had thought of for her, which was compoſed of an old Man and Three Boys. My Scholar, my Citizen, and my ſelf, were very ſoon neglected; and the young Courtier, by the Bow he made to her at her Entrance, engaged her Obſervation without a Rival. I obſerved the Oxonian not a little diſcompoſed at this Preference, while the Trader kept his Eye upon his Unkle. My Nephew Will had a Thouſand ſecret Reſolutions to break in upon the Diſcourſe of his younger Brother, who gave my fair Companion a full Account of the Faſhion, and what was reckoned moſt becoming to this Complexion, and what Sort of Habit appeared beſt upon t'other Shape. He proceeded to acquaint her, who of Quality was well or ſick within the Bills of Mortality, and named very familiarly all his Lady's Acquaintance, not forgetting her very Words when he ſpoke of their Characters. Beſides all this, he had a Road of Flattery; and upon her enquiring what Sort of Woman Lady Lovely was in her Perſon, Really Madam, ſays the Jackanapes, ſhe is exactly of your Height and Shape; but as you are fair, ſhe is a brown Woman. There was no enduring that this Fop ſhould outſhine us all at this unmerciful Rate, therefore I thought fit to talk to my young Scholar concerning his Studies; and becauſe I would throw his Learning into preſent Service, I deſired him to repeat to me the Tranſlation he had made of ſome tender Verſes in Theocritus. He did ſo, with an Air of Elegance peculiar to the College to which I ſent him. I made ſome Exceptions to the Turn of the Phraſes, which he defended with much Modeſty, as believing in that Place the Matter was rather to conſult the Softneſs of a Swain's Paſſion, than the Strength of his Expreſſions. [81] It ſoon appeared, that Will had out-ſtripped his Brother in the Opinion of our young Lady. A little Poetry to one who is bred a Scholar, has the ſame Effect that a good Carriage of his Perſon has on one who is to live in Courts. The Favour of Women is ſo natural a Paſſion, that I envied both the Boys their Succeſs in the Approbation of my Gueſt; and I thought the only Perſon invulnerable was my young Trader. During the whole Meal, I could obſerve in the Children a mutual Contempt and Scorn of each other, ariſing from their different Way of Life and Education, and took that Occaſion to advertiſe them of ſuch growing Diſtaſts, which might miſlead them in their future Life, and diſappoint their Friends, as well as themſelves, of the Advantages which might be expected from the Diverſity of their Profeſſions and Intereſts.

The Prejudices which are growing up between theſe Brothers from the different Ways of Education, are what create the moſt fatal Miſunderſtandings in Life. But all Diſtinctions of Diſparagement meerly from our Circumſtances, are ſuch as will not bear the Examination of Reaſon. The Courtier, the Trader, and the Scholar, ſhould all have an equal Pretenſion to the Denomination of a Gentleman. That Tradeſman who deals with me in a Commodity which I do not underſtand with Uprightneſs, has much more Right to that Character, than the Courtier who gives me falſe Hopes, or the Scholar who laughs at my Ignorance.

The Appellation of Gentleman is never to be affixed to a Man's Circumſtances, but to his Behaviour in them. For this Reaſon I ſhall ever, as far as I am able, give my Nephews ſuch Impreſſions as ſhall make them value themſelves rather as they are uſeful to others, than as they are conſcious of Merit in themſelves. There are no Qualities from which we ought to pretend to the [82] Eſteem of others, but ſuch as render us ſerviceable to them; for Free Men have no Superiors but Benefactors. I was going on like a true old Fellow to this Purpoſe to my Gueſts, when I received the following Epiſtle:

SIR,

I Have yours, with Notice of a Benefit-Ticket of 400 l. per Annum, both encloſed by Mr. Elliot, who had my Numbers for that Purpoſe. Your Philoſophick Advice came very ſeaſonably to me with that good Fortune; but I muſt be ſo ſincere with you as to acknowledge, I owe my preſent Moderation more to my own Folly, than your wiſdom. You will think this ſtrange till I inform you, that I had fixed my Thoughts upon the 1000 l. a Year, and had with that Expectation laid down ſo many agreeable Plans for my Behaviour towards my new Lovers and old Friends, that I have received this Favour of Fortune with an Air of Diſappointment. This is interpreted by all who know not the Springs of my Heart as a wonderful Piece of Humility. I hope my preſent State of Mind will grow into that; but I confeſs my Conduct to be now owing to another Cauſe. However, I know you will approve my taking hold even of Imperfections to find my Way towards Virtue, which is ſo feeble in us at the beſt, that we are often beholden to our Faults for the firſt Appearances of it. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, CHLOE.

The TATLER. [No 208.
From Saturd. Auguſt 5. to Tueſd. Auguſt 8. 1710.

[83]
Si dixeris aeſtuo, ſudat. —
Juv.

AN old Acquaintanc who met me this Morning ſeemed overjoyed to ſee me, and told me, I looked as well as he had known me do theſe Forty Years: But, continued he, not quite the Man you were when we viſited together at Lady Brightly's. Oh! Iſaac, thoſe Days are over. Do you think there are any ſuch fine Creatures now living as we then converſed with? He went on with a Thouſand incoherent Circumſtances, which, in his Imagination, muſt needs pleaſe me; but they had the quite contrary Effect. The Flattery with which he began, in telling me how well I wore, was not diſagreeable; but his indiſcreet Mention of a Set of Acquaintance we had outlived, recalled Ten Thouſand Things to my Memory, which made me reflect upon my preſent Condition with Regret. Had he indeed been ſo kind as, after a long Abſence, to felicitate me upon an indolent and eaſy old Age, and mentioned how much he and I had to thank for, who at our Time of Day could walk firmly, eat heartily, and converſe chearfully, he had kept up my Pleaſure in my ſelf. But of all Mankind, there are none ſo ſhocking as theſe injudicious civil People. They ordinarily begin upon ſomething that they know muſt be a Satisfaction; but then, for Fear of the Imputation of Flattery, they follow it with the laſt Thing in the World of which you would be [84] reminded. It is this that perplexes civil Perſons. The Reaſon that there is ſuch a general Outcry amongſt us againſt Flatterers, is, that there are ſo very few good Ones. It is the niceſt Art in this Life, and is a Part of Eloquence which does not want the Preparation that is neceſſary to all other Parts of it, That your Audience ſhould be your Well-wiſhers: For Praiſe from an Enemy is the moſt pleaſing of all Commendations.

It is generally to be obſerved, that the Perſon moſt agreeable to a Man for a Conſtancy is he that has no ſhining Qualities, but is a certain Degree above great Imperfections, whom he can live with as his Inferior, and who will either overlook or not obſerve his little Defects. Such an eaſy Companion as this, either now and then throws out a little Flattery, or lets a Man ſilently flatter himſelf in his Superiority to him. If you take Notice, there is hardly a rich Man in the World, who has not ſuch a led Friend of ſmall Conſideration, who is a Darling for his Inſignificancy. It is a great Eaſe to have one in our own Shape a Species below us, and who, without being liſted in our Service, is by Nature of our Retinue. Theſe Dependants are of excellent Uſe on a Rainy Day, or when a Man has not a Mind to dreſs, or to exclude Solitude, when one has neither a Mind to that or to Company. There are of this good-natured Order, who are ſo kind as to divide themſelves, and do theſe good Offices to many. Five or Six of them viſit a whole Quarter of the Town, and exclude the Spleen without Fees from the Families they frequent. If they do not preſcribe Phyſick, they can be Company when you take it. Very great Benefactors to the Rich, or thoſe whom they call People at their Eaſe, are your Perſons of no Conſequence. I have known ſome of them, by the Help of a little Cunning, make delicious Flatterers. They know the Courſe of the Town, and the general Characters of Perſons: By this [85] Means they will ſometimes tell the moſt agreeable Falſhoods imaginable. They will acquaint you, that ſuch a One of a quite contrary Party ſaid, that tho' you were engaged in different Intereſts, yet he had the greateſt Reſpect for your good Senſe and Addreſs. When one of theſe has a little Cunning, he paſſes his Time in the utmoſt Satisfaction to himſelf and his Friends: For his Poſition is never to report or ſpeak a diſpleaſing Thing to his Friend. As for letting him go on in an Error, he knows Advice againſt them is the Office of Perſons of greater Talents and leſs Diſcretion.

The Latin Word for a Flatterer (Aſſentator) implies no more than a Perſon that barely conſents; and indeed ſuch a one, if a Man were able to purchaſe or maintain him, cannot be bought too dear. Such a one never contradicts you, but gains upon you, not by a fulſom Way of commending you in broad Terms, but liking whatever you propoſe or utter; at the ſame Time is ready to beg your Pardon, and gainſay you, if you chance to ſpeak Ill of your ſelf. An old Lady is very ſeldom without ſuch a Companion as this, who can recite the Names of all her Lovers, and the Matches refuſed by her in the Days when ſhe minded ſuch Vanities, (as ſhe is pleaſed to call them, tho' ſhe ſo much approves the Mention of them.) It is to be noted, that a Woman's Flatterer is generally older than her ſelf, her Years ſerving at once to recommend her Patroneſs's Age, and to add Weight to her Complaiſance in all other Particulars.

We Gentlemen of ſmall Fortunes are extremely neceſſitous in this Particular. I have indeed one who ſmokes with me often; but his Parts are ſo low, that all the Incenſe he does me is to fill his Pipe with me, and to be out at juſt as many Whiffs as I take. This is all the Praiſe or Aſſent that he is capable of, yet there are more Hours when I [86] would rather be in his Company than that of the brighteſt Man I know. It would be an hard Matter to give an Account of this Inclination to be flattered; but if we go to the Bottom of it, we ſhall find that the Pleaſure in it is ſomething like that of receiving Money which lay out. Every Man thinks he has an Eſtate of Reputation, and is glad to ſee one that will bring any of it Home to him: It is no Matter how dirty a Bag it is conveyed to him in, or by how clowniſh a Meſſenger, ſo the Money is good. All that we want to be pleaſed with Flattery, is to believe that the Man is ſincere who gives it us. It is by this one Accident, that abſurd Creatures often outrun the more Skilful in this Art. Their Want of Ability is here an Advantage, and their Bluntneſs, as it is the ſeeming Effect of Sincerity, is the beſt Cover to Artifice.

Terence introduces a Flatterer talking to a Coxcomb whom he cheats out of a Livelihood, and a third Perſon on the Stage makes on him this pleaſant Remark, ‘"This Fellow has an Art of making Fools Madmen."’ The Love of Flattery is indeed ſometimes the Weakneſs of a great Mind; but you ſee it alſo in Perſons who otherwiſe diſcover no Manner of Reliſh of any Thing above meer Senſuality. Theſe latter it ſometimes improves, but always debaſes the former. A Fool is in himſelf the Object of Pity till he is flattered. By the Force of that his Stupidity is raiſed into Affectation, and he becomes of Dignity enough to be ridiculous. I remember a Drole, that upon one's ſaying, The Times are ſo tickliſh that there muſt great Care be taken what one ſays in Converſation; anſwered with an Air of Surlineſs and Honeſty, If People will be free, let them be ſo in the Manner that I am, who never abuſe a Man but to his Face. He had no Reputation for ſaying dangerous Truths; therefore when it was repeated, You abuſe a Man but to his Face? Yes, ſays he, I flatter him.

[87] It is indeed the greateſt of Injuries to flatter any but the Unhappy, or ſuch as are diſpleaſed with themſelves for ſome Infirmity. In this latter Caſe we have a Member of our Club, that when Sir Jeffery falls aſleep, wakens him with Snoring. This makes Sir Jeffery hold up for ſome Moments the longer, to ſee there are Men younger than himſelf among us, who are more Lethargick than he is.

When Flattery is practiſed upon any other Conſideration, it is the moſt abject Thing in Nature; nay, I cannot think of any Character below the Flatterer, except he that envies him. You meet with Fellows prepared to be as mean as poſſible in their Condeſcentions and Expreſſions; but they want Perſons and Talents to riſe up to ſuch a Baſeneſs. As a Coxcomb is a Fool of Parts, ſo is a Flatterer a Knave of Parts.

The beſt of this Order that I know, is one who diſguiſes it under a Spirit of Contradiction or Reproof. He told an errant Driveler the other Day, That he did not care for being in Company with him, becauſe he heard he turned his abſent Friends into Ridicule. And upon Lady Autumn's diſputing with him about ſomething that happened at the Revolution, he replied with a very angry Tone, Pray, Madam, give me Leave to know more of a Thing in which I was actually concerned, than you who were then in your Nurſe's Arms.

The TATLER. [No 209.
From Tueſd. Auguſt 8. to Thurſd. Auguſt 10. 1710.

[88]

ANoble Painter, who has an Ambition to draw an Hiſtory-Piece, has deſired of me to give him a Subject on which he may ſhow the utmoſt Force of his Art and Genius. For this Purpoſe I have pitched upon that remarkable Incident between Alexander the Great and his Phyſician. This Prince, in the Midſt of his Conqueſts in Perſia, was ſeized by a violent Fever; and according to the Account we have of his vaſt Mind, his Thoughts were more employed about his Recovery as it regarded the War, than as it concerned his own Life. He profeſſed, a ſlow Method was worſe than Death to him, becauſe it was what he more dreaded, an Interruption of his Glory. He deſired a dangerous, ſo it might be a ſpeedy Remedy. During this Impatience of the King, it is well known that Darius had offered an immenſe Sum to any who ſhould take away his Life. But Philippus, the moſt eſteemed and moſt knowing of his Phyſicians, promiſed, that within Three Days Time he would prepare a Medicine for him which ſhould reſtore him more expeditiouſly than could be imagined. Immediately after this Engagement, Alexander receives a Letter from the moſt conſiderable of his Captains, with Intelligence, That Darius had bribed Philippus to poiſon him. Every Circumſtance imaginable favoured this Suſpicion; but this Monarch, who did nothing but in an extraordinary Manner, concealed the Letter; and while the Medicine was preparing, ſpent all his Thoughts upon his Behaviour [89] in this important Incident. From his long Soliloquy he came to this Reſolution: ‘"Alexander muſt not lie here alive to be oppreſſed by his Enemy. I will not believe my Phyſician guilty; or, I will periſh rather by his Guilt, than my own Diffidence.'’

At the appointed Hour, Philippus enters with the Potion. One cannot but form to one's ſelf on Occaſion the Encounter of their Eyes, the Reſolution in thoſe of the Patient, and the Benevolence in the Countenance of the Phyſician. The Hero raiſed himſelf in his Bed, and holding the Letter in one Hand, and the Potion in the other, drank the Medicine. It will exerciſe my Friend's Pencil and Brain to place this Action in its proper Beauty. A Prince obſerving the Features of a ſuſpected Traytor after having drank the Poiſon he offer'd him, is a Circumſtance ſo full of Paſſion, that it will require the higheſt Strength of his Imagination to conceive it, much more to expreſs it. But as Painting is Eloquence and Poetry in Mechaniſm, I ſhall raiſe his Idea's, by reading with him the fineſt Draughts of the Paſſions concerned in this Circumſtance from the moſt excellent Poets and Orators. The Confidence which Alexander aſſumes from the Air of Philippus's Face as he is reading his Accuſation, and the generous Diſdain which is to riſe in the Features of a falſly accuſed Man, are principally to be regarded. In this Particular he muſt heighten his Thoughts, by reflecting, that he is not drawing only an innocent Man traduced, but a Man zealouſly affected to his Perſon and Safety, full of Reſentment for being thought falſe. How ſhall we contrive to expreſs the higheſt Admiration mingled with Diſdain? How ſhall we in Strokes of a Pencil ſay, what Philippus did to his Prince on this Occaſion? ‘"Sir, my Life never depended on yours more than it does now. Without knowing this Secret, I prepared the Potion, which you have taken as [90] what concerned Philippus no leſs than Alexander; and there is nothing new in this Adventure, but that it makes me ſtill more admire the Generoſity and Confidence of my Maſter."’ Alexander took him by the Hand, and ſaid, ‘"Philippus, I am confident you had rather I had any other Way to have manifeſted the Faith I have in you, than a Caſe which ſo nearly concerns me: And in Gratitude I now aſſure you, I am anxious for the Effect of your Medicine, more for your Sake than my own.'’

My Painter is employed by a Man of Senſe and Wealth to furniſh him a Gallery, and I ſhall join with my Friend in the Deſigning Part. It is the great Uſe of Pictures to raiſe in our Minds either agreeable Idea's of our abſent Friends, or high Images of eminent Perſonages. But the latter Deſign is, methinks, carried on in a very improper Way: For to fill a Room full of Battle-Pieces, pompous Hiſtories of Sieges, and a tall Hero alone in a Crowd of inſignificant Figures about him, is of no Conſequence to private Men. But to place before our Eyes great and illuſtrious Men in thoſe Parts and Circumſtances of Life wherein their Behaviour may have an Effect upon our Minds, as being ſuch as we partake with them merely as they were Men: Such as theſe, I ſay, may be juſt and uſeful Ornaments of an elegant Apartment. In this Collection therefore that we are making, we will not have the Battles, but the Sentiments of Alexander. The Affair we were juſt now talking of, has Circumſtances of the higheſt Nature, and yet their Grandeur has little to do with his Fortune. If by obſerving ſuch a Piece as that of his taking a Bowl of Poiſon with ſo much Magnanimity, a Man, the next Time he has a Fit of the Spleen, is leſs froward to his Friend or his Servants; thus far is ſome Improvement.

[91] I have frequently thought, that if we had many Draughts which were Hiſtorical of certain Paſſions, and had the true Figure of the great Men we ſee tranſported by them, it would be of the moſt ſolid Advantage imaginable. To conſider this mighty Man on one Occaſion adminiſter to the Wants of a poor Soldier, benummed with Cold, with the greateſt Humanity; at another, barbarouſly ſtabbing a faithful Officer: At one Time, ſo generouſly chaſt and virtuous as to give his Captive Statira her Liberty; at another, burning a Town at the Inſtigation of Thais. This Sort of Changes in the ſame Perſon are what would be more beneficial Leſſons of Morality, than the ſeveral Revolutions in a great Man's Fortune. There are but One or Two in an Age to whom the pompous Incidents of his Life can be exemplary; but I or any Man may be as ſick, as good-natur'd, as compaſſionate, and as angry, as Alexander the great. My Purpoſe in all this Chat is, that ſo excellent a Furniture may not for the future have ſo Romantick a Turn, but allude to Incidents which come within the Fortunes of the ordinary Race of Men. I do not know but 'tis by the Force of this ſenſeleſs Cuſtom that People are drawn in Poſtures they would not for half they are worth be ſurpriſed in. The unparallell'd Firceneſs of ſome Rural 'Squires drawn in Red, or in Armour, who never dreamed to deſtroy any Thing above a Fox, is a common and ordinary Offence of this Kind. But I ſhall give an Account of our whole Gallery on another Occaſion.

The TATLER. [No 210.
From Thurſd. Aug. 10. to Saturd. Aug. 12. 1710.

[92]

I Did my ſelf the Honour this Day to make a Viſit to a Lady of Quality, who is one of thoſe who are ever railing at the Vices of the Age, but mean only one Vice, becauſe it is the only Vice they are not guilty of. She went ſo far as to fall foul on a young Woman who has had Imputations; but whether they were juſt or not, no one knows but her ſelf. However that is, ſhe is in her preſent Behaviour modeſt, humble, pious, and diſcreet. I thought it became me to bring this cenſorious Lady to Reaſon, and let her ſee ſhe was a much more vitious Woman than the Perſon ſhe ſpoke of.

Madam, ſaid I, you are very ſevere to this poor young Woman, for a Treſpaſs which I believe Heaven has forgiven her, and for which you ſee ſhe is for ever out of Countenance. Nay, Mr. Bickerſtaff, ſhe interrupted, If you at this Time of Day contradict People of Virtue, and ſtand up for ill Women—No, no, Madam, ſaid I, not ſo faſt, ſhe is reclaimed, and I fear you never will be. Nay, nay, Madam, do not be in a Paſſion, but let me tell you what you are. You are indeed as good as your Neighbours, but that is being very bad. You are a Woman at the Head of a Family, and lead a perfect Town Lady's Life. You go on your own Way, and conſult nothing but your Glaſs. What Imperfections indeed you ſee there, you immediately mend as faſt as you can. You may do the ſame by the Faults I tell you of, for they are much more in your Power to correct.

[93] You are to know then, that you Viſiting Ladies, that carry your Virtue from Houſe to Houſe with ſo much Prattle in each other's Applauſe, and triumph over other People's Faults, I grant you have but the Speculation of Vice in your own Converſations, but, promote the Practice of it in all others you have to do with.

As for you, Madam, your Time paſſes away in Dreſſing, Eating, Sleeping, and Praying. When you riſe in Morning, I grant you an Hour ſpent very well; but you come out to dreſs in ſo froward a Humour, that the poor Girl who attends you, curſes her very Being in that ſhe is your Servant, for the peeviſh Things you ſay to her. When this poor Creature is put into a Way, that Good or Evil are regarded but as they relieve her from the Hours ſhe has and muſt paſs with you. The next you have to do with, is your Coachman and Footmen. They convey your Ladyſhip to Church. While you are praying there, they are curſing, ſwearing, and drinking in an Ale-houſe. During the Time alſo which your Ladyſhip ſets apart for Heaven, you are to know, that your Cook is ſweating and fretting in Preparation for your Dinner. Soon after your Meal you make Viſits, and the whole World that belongs to you ſpeaks all the Ill of you which you are repeating of others. You ſee, Madam, whatever Way you go, all about you are in a very broad one. The Morality of theſe People it is your proper Buſineſs to enquire into; and till you reform them, you had beſt let your Equals alone; otherwiſe, if I allow you you are not vitious, you muſt allow me you are not virtuous.

I took my Leave, and received at my coming Home the following Letter:

[94]
Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Have lived a pure and undefiled Virgin theſe Twenty ſeven Years; and I aſſure you, 'tis with great Grief and Sorrow of Heart I tell you, that I become weary and impatient of the Deriſion of the Gigglers of our Sex who call me old Maid, and tell me I ſhall lead Apes. If you are truly a Patron of the Diſtreſſed, and an Adept in Aſtrology, you will adviſe whether I ſhall or ought to be prevailed upon by the Impertinencies of my own Sex, to give Way to the Importunities of yours. I aſſure you, I am ſurrounded with both, tho' at preſent a Forlorn.

I am, &c.

I muſt defer my Anſwer to this Lady out of a Point of Chronology. She ſays, ſhe has been Twenty Seven Years a Maid; but I fear, according to a common Error, ſhe dates her Virginity from her Birth, which is a very erroneous Method; for a Woman of Twenty is no more to be thought chaſt ſo many Years, than a Man of that Age can be ſaid to have been ſo long Valiant. We muſt not allow People the Favour of a Virtue till they have been under the Temptation to the contrary. A Woman is not a Maid till her Birth-Day, as we call it, of her Fifteenth Year. My Plaintiff is therefore deſired to inform me, whether ſhe is at preſent in her Twenty eighth or Forty third Year, and ſhe ſhall be diſpatched accordingly.

A Merchant came hither this Morning, and read a Letter from a Correſpondent of his at Milan. It was dated of the 7th Inſtant. N. S. The following is an Abſtract of it. On the 25th of the laſt Month Five Thouſand Men were on their March in the Lampourdan, under the Command of General Weſell, having received Orders from his Catholick Majeſty to join him in his Camp with all poſſible [95] Expedition. The Duke of Anjou ſoon had Intelligence of their Motion, and took a Reſolution to decamp, in order to intercept them, within a Day's March of our Army. The King of Spain was apprehenſive the Enemy might make ſuch a Movement, and commanded General Stanhope with a Body of Horſe, conſiſting of Fourteen Squadrons, to obſerve their Courſe, and prevent their Paſſage over the Rivers Segra and Noguera between Larida and Balaguer. It happened to be the firſt Day that Officer had appeared Abroad after a dangerous and violent Fever; but he received the King's Commands on this Occaſion with a Joy which ſurmounted his preſent Weakneſs, and on the 27th of laſt Month came up with the Enemy on the Plains of Balaguer. The Duke of Anjou's Rear-Guard conſiſting of Twenty ſix Squadrons, that General ſent Intelligence of their Poſture to the King, and deſired his Majeſty's Orders to attack them. During the Time which he waited for his Inſtructions, he made his Diſpoſition for the Charge, which was to divide themſelves into Three Bodies; One to be commanded by himſelf in the Center, a Body on the Right by Count Maurice of Naſſau, and the Third on the Left by the Earl of Rochford. Upon the Receipt of his Majeſty's Direction to attack the Enemy, the General himſelf charged with the utmoſt Vigour and Reſolution, while the Earl of Rochford and Count Maurice extended themſelves on his Right and Left, to prevent the Advantage the Enemy might make of the Superiority of their Numbers. What appears to have miſled the Enemy's General in this Affair was, that it was not ſuppoſed practicable that the Confederates would attack him till they had received a Reinforcement. For this Reaſon he purſued his March without facing about, till we were actually coming on to Engagement. General Stanhope's Diſpoſition made it impracticable to do it at that Time, Count Maurice and the Earl [96] of Rochford attacking them in the Inſtant in which they were forming themſelves. The Charge was made with the greateſt Gallantry, and the Enemy very ſoon put into ſo great Diſorder, that their whole Cavalry were commanded to ſupport their Rear-Guard. Upon the Advance of this Reinforcement, all the Horſe of the King of Spain were come up to ſuſtain General Stanhope, inſomuch that the Battle improved to a general Engagement of the Cavalry of both Armies. After a warm Diſpute for ſome Time, it ended in the utter Defeat of all the Duke of Anjou's Horſe. Upon the Diſpatch of theſe Advices, that Prince was retiring towards Lerida. We have no Account of any conſiderable Loſs on our Side, except that both thoſe Heroick Youths, the Earl of Rochford and Count Naſſau, fell in this Action. They were, you know, both Sons of Perſons who had a great Place in the Confidence of your late King William; and I doubt not but their Deaths will endear their Families, which were ennobled by him, in your Nation. General Stanhope has been reported by the Enemy dead of his Wounds; but he received only a ſlight Contuſion on the Shoulder.

P. S. We acknowledge you here a mighty brave People; but you are ſaid to love quarrelling ſo well, that you cannot be quiet at Home. The Favourers of the Houſe of Bourbon among us affirm, That this Stanhope, who could as it were get out of his ſick Bed to fight againſt their King of Spain, muſt be of the Antimonarchical Party.

The TATLER. [No 211.
From Saturd. Aug. 12. to Tueſd. Aug. 15. 1710.

[97]
— Nequeo monſtrare, & ſentio tantum.
Juv.

IF there were no other Conſequence of it, but barely that Humane Creatures on this Day aſſemble themſelves before their Creator, without Regard to their uſual Employments, their Minds at Leiſure from the Cares of this Life, and their Bodies adorned with the beſt Attire they can beſtow on them; I ſay, were this meer outward Celebration of a Sabbath all that is expected from Men, even that were a laudable Diſtinction, and a Purpoſe worthy the Humane Nature. But when there is added to it the ſublime Pleaſure of Devotion, our Being is exalted above it ſelf; and he who ſpends a Seventh Day in the Contemplation of the next Life, will not eaſily fall into the Corruptions of this in the other Six. They who never admit Thoughts of this Kind into their Imagination, loſe higher and ſweeter Satisfactions than can be raiſed by any other Entertainment. The moſt illiterate Man who is touched with Devotion, and uſes frequent Exerciſes of it, contracts a certain Greatneſs of Mind, mingled with a noble Simplicity, that raiſes him above thoſe of the ſame Condition; and there is an indelible Mark of Goodneſs in thoſe who ſincerely poſſeſs it. It is hardly poſſible it ſhould be otherwiſe; for the Fervours of a pious Mind will naturally contract ſuch an Earneſtneſs and Attention towards a better Being, as will make [98] the ordinary Paſſages of Life go off with a becoming Indifference. By this, a Man in the loweſt Condition will not appear mean, or in the moſt ſplendid Fortune, inſolent.

As to all the Intricacies and Viciſſitudes under which Men are ordinarily intangled with the utmoſt Sorrow and Paſſion, one who is devoted to Heaven when he falls into ſuch Difficulties is led by a Clue through a Labyrinth. As to this World, he does not pretend to Skill in the Mazes of it, but fixes his Thoughts upon one Certainty, that he ſhall ſoon be out of it. And we may ask very boldly, What can be a more ſure Conſolation than to have an Hope in Death? When Men are arrived at thinking of their very Diſſolution with Pleaſure, how few Things are there that can be terrible to them? Certainly nothing can be dreadful to ſuch Spirits, but what would make Death terrible to them, Falſhood towards Man, or Impiety towards Heaven. To ſuch as theſe, as there are certainly many ſuch, the Gratifications of innocent Pleaſures are doubled, even with Reflections upon their Imperfection. The Diſappointments which naturally attend the great Promiſes we make our ſelves in expected Enjoyments, ſtrike no Damp upon ſuch Men, but only quicken their Hopes of ſoon knowing Joys, which are too pure to admit of Allay or Satiety.

It is thought among the politer Part of Mankind an Imperfection to want a Reliſh of any of thoſe Things which refine our Lives. This is the Foundation of the Acceptance which Eloquence, Muſick, and Poetry, make in the World; and I know not why Devotion, conſidered meerly as an Exaltation of our Happineſs, ſhould not at leaſ [...] be ſo far regarded as to be conſidered. It is poſſible the very Enquiry would lead Men into ſuc [...] Thoughts and Gratifications as they did not expect to meet with in this Place. Many a goo [...] [99] Acquaintance has been loſt from a general Prepoſſeſſion in his Disfavour, and a ſevere Aſpect has often hid under it a very agreeable Companion.

There are no diſtinguiſhing Qualities among Men to which there are not falſe Pretenders; but tho' none is more pretended to than that of Devotion, there are, perhaps, fewer ſucceſsful Impoſtors in this Kind than any other. There is ſomething ſo natively great and good in a Perſon that is truly devout, that an aukward Man may as well pretend to be genteel, as an Hypocrite to be pious. The Conſtraint in Words and Actions are equally viſible in both Caſes, and any Thing ſet up in their Room does but remove the Endeavourers the further off their Pretenſions. But however the Senſe of true Piety is abated, there is no other Motive of Action that can carry us through all the Viciſſitudes of Life with Alacrity and Reſolution. But Piety, like Philoſophy, when it is ſuperficial, does but make Men appear the worſe for it; and a Principle that is but half received, does but diſtract, inſtead of guiding our Behaviour. When I reflect upon the unequal Conduct of Lotius, I ſee many Things that run directly counter to his Intereſt; therefore I cannot attribute his Labours for the publick Good to Ambition. When I conſider his Diſregard to his Fortune, I cannot eſteem him covetous. How then can I reconcile his Neglect of himſelf, and his Zeal for others? I have long ſuſpected him to be a little Pious: But no Man ever hid his Vice with greater Caution than he does his Virtue. It was the Praiſe of a great Roman, That he had rather be, than appear good. But ſuch is the Weakneſs of Lotius, that I dare ſay, he had rather be eſteemed irreligious, than devout. By I know not what Impatience of Rail [...]ery he is wonderfully fearful of being thought [...]oo great a Believer. A Hundred little Devices [100] are made uſe of to hide a Time of private Devotion; and he will allow you any Suſpicion of his being ill employed, ſo you do not tax him with being well. But alas! How mean is ſuch a Behaviour? To boaſt of Virtue is a moſt ridiculous Way of diſappointing the Merit of it, but not ſo pitiful as that of being aſhamed of it. How unhappy is the Wretch who makes the moſt abſolute and independent Motive of Action the Cauſe of Perplexity and Inconſtancy? How much another Figure does Caelicola make with all who know him? His great and ſuperior Mind, frequently exalted by the Raptures of Heavenly Meditation, is to all his Friends of the ſame Uſe as if an Angel were to appear at the Deciſion of their Diſputes. They very well underſtand he is as much diſintereſted and unbiaſs'd as ſuch a Being. He conſiders all Applications made to him, as thoſe Addreſſes will effect his own Application to Heaven. All his Determinations are deliver'd with a beautiful Humility; and he pronounces his Deciſions with the Air of one who is more frequently a Supplicant than a Judge.

Thus humble, and thus great, is the Man who is moved by Piety, and exalted by Devotion. But behold this recommended by the maſterly Hand of a great Divine I have heretofore made bold with.

It is ſuch a Pleaſure as can never cloy or overwork the Mind; a Delight that grows and improves under Thought and Reflection; and while it exerciſes, does alſo endear it ſelf to the Mind. All Pleaſure that affect the Body muſt needs weary, becauſe they tranſport; and all Tranſportation is a Violence; and no Violence can be laſting, but determines upon the Falling of the Spirits, which are not able to keep up that Height of Motion that the Pleaſure of the Senſes raiſes them to. And therefore how inevitably does an immoderate Laughter [101] end in a Sigh, which is only Nature's recovering it ſelf after a Force done to it: But the religious Pleaſure of a well-diſpoſed Mind moves gently, and therefore conſtantly. It does not effect by Rapture and Extaſie, but is like the Pleaſure of Health, greater and ſtronger than thoſe that call up the Senſes with groſſer and more affecting Impreſſions. No Man's Body is as ſtrong as his Appetites; but Heaven has corrected the Boundleſneſs of his voluptuous Deſires by ſtinting his Strengths, and contracting his Capacities.—The Pleaſure of the religious Man is an eaſy and a portable Pleaſure, ſuch an one as he carries about in his Boſom, without alarming either the Eye or Envy of the World. A Man putting all his Pleaſure into this one, is like a Traveller putting all his Goods into one Jewel; the Value is the ſame, and the Convenience greater.

The TATLER. [No 212.
From Tueſday Aug. 15. to Thurſday Aug. 17. 1710.

I Have had much Importunity to anſwer the following Letter.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

REading over a Volume of Yours, I find the Words Simplex Munditiis mentioned as a Deſcription of a very well dreſſed Woman. I beg of you, for the Sake of the Sex, to explain theſe Terms. I cannot comprehend what my Brother means, [102] when he tells me they ſignify my own Name, which is,

SIR,
Your humble Servant, Plain Engliſh.

I think the Lady's Brother has given us a very good Idea of that elegant Expreſſion, it being the greateſt Beauty of Speech to be cloſe and intelligible. To this End nothing is to be more carefully conſulted than Plainneſs. In a Lady's Attire this is the ſingle Excellence; for to be what ſome call fine, is the ſame Vice in that Caſe, as to be florid is in Writing or Speaking. I have ſtudied and writ on this important Subject till I almoſt deſpair of making a Reformation in the Females of this Iſland, where we have more Beauty than in any Spot in the Univerſe, if we did not diſguiſe it by falſe Garniture, and detract from it by impertinent Improvements. I have by me a Treatiſe concerning Pinners, which I have ſome Hopes will contribute to the Amendment of the preſent Head-dreſſes, to which I have ſolid and unanſwerable Objections. But moſt of the Errors in that and other Particulars of adorning the Head, are crept into the World from the Ignorance of modern Tirewomen; for it is come to that Paſs, that an aukward Creature in the firſt Year of her Apprenticeſhip, that can hardly ſtick a Pin, ſhall take upon her to dreſs a Woman of the Firſt Quality. However it is certain, that there requires in a good Tirewoman a perfect Skill in Opticks; for all the Force of Ornament is to contribute to the Intention of the Eyes. Thus ſhe who has a Mind to look killing, muſt arm her Face accordingly, and not leave her Eyes and Cheeks undreſſed. Ther [...] is Araminta ſo ſenſible of this, that ſhe neve [...] [103] will ſee even her own Husband without a Hood on. Can any one living bear to ſee Miſs Gruel, lean as ſhe is, with her Hair tied back after the modern Way? But ſuch is the Folly of our Ladies, that becauſe one who is a Beauty, out of Oſtentation of her being ſuch, takes Care to wear ſomething that ſhe knows cannot be of any Conſequence to her Complexion; I ſay, our Women run on ſo heedleſly in the Faſhion, that tho' it is the Intereſt of ſome to hide as much of their Faces as poſſible, yet becauſe a leading Toaſt appeared with a backward Head-dreſs, the reſt ſhall follow the Mode, without obſerving that the Author of the Faſhion aſſumed it becauſe it could become no one but her ſelf.

Flavia is ever well dreſſed, and always the gentileſt Woman you meet: But the Make of her Mind very much contributes to the Ornament of her Body. She has the greateſt Simplicity of Manners of any of her Sex. This makes every Thing look native about her, and her Cloaths are ſo exactly fitted, that they appear as it were Part of her Perſon. Every one that ſees her, knows her to be of Quality; but her Diſtinction is owing to her Manner, and not to her Habit. Her Beauty is full of Attraction, but not of Allurement. There is ſuch a Compoſure in her Looks, and Propriety in her Dreſs, that you would think it impoſſible ſhe ſhould change the Garb you one Day ſee her in for any Thing ſo becoming, till you next Day ſee her in another. There is no other Myſtery in this, but that however ſhe is apparelled, ſhe is her ſelf the ſame: For there is ſo immediate a Relation between our Thoughts and Geſtures, that a Woman muſt think well to look well.

But this weighty Subject I muſt put off for ſome other Matters in which my Correſpondents are urgent for Anſwers, which I ſhall do where I [104] can, and appeal to the Judgment of others where I cannot.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

TAking the Air t'other Day on Horſeback in the Green Lane that leads to Southgate, I diſcovered coming towards me a Perſon well mounted in a Mask; and I accordingly expected, as any one would, to have been robbed. But when we came up with each other, the Spark, to my greater Surprize, very peaceably gave me the Way; which made me take Courage enough to ask him, if he maſqueraded, or how? He made me no Anſwer, but ſtill continued incognito. This was certainly an Aſs in a Lion's Skin; a harmleſs Bull-Beggar, who delights to fright innocent People, and ſet them a gallopping. I bethought my ſelf of putting as good a Jeſt upon him, and had turned my Horſe, with a Deſign to purſue him to London, and get him apprehended, on Suſpicion of being a Highway-man: But when I reflected, that 'twas the proper Office of the Magiſtrate to puniſh only Knaves, and that we had a Cenſor of Great Britain for People of another Denomination, I immediately determined to proſecute him in your Court only. This unjuſtifiable Frolick I take to be neither Wit nor Humour: Therefore hope you will do me, and as many others as were that Day frighted, Juſtice. I am,

SIR,
Your Friend and Servant, J. L.
SIR,

THE Gentleman begs your Pardon, and frighted you out of Fear of frighting you; for he is juſt come out of the Small-Pox.

[105]
Mr. Bickerſtaff,

YOur Diſtinction concerning the Time of commencing Virgins is allowed to be juſt. I write you my Thanks for it, in the Twenty eighth Year of my Life, and Twelfth of my Virginity. But I am to ask you another Queſtion, May a Woman be ſaid to live any more Years a Maid than ſhe continues to be courted?

I am, &c.
SIR,

I Obſerve that the Poſt-Man of Saturday laſt, giving an Account of the Action in Spain, has this elegant Turn of Expreſſion; General Stanhope, who in the whole Action expreſſed as much Bravery as Conduct, received a Contuſion in his Right Shoulder. I ſhould be glad to know, Whether this cautious Politician means to commend or to rally him, by ſaying, He expreſſed as much Bravery as Conduct? If you can explain this dubious Pharaſe, it will inform the Publick, and oblige,

SIR,
Your humble Servant, &c.

The TATLER. [No 213.
From Thurſd. Aug. 17. to Saturd. Aug. 19. 1710.

THere has of late crept in among the downright Engliſh, a mighty Spirit of Diſſimulation. But before we diſcourſe of this Vice, it will be neceſſary to obſerve, that the Learned make a Difference between Simulation and Diſſimulation. Simulation is a Pretence of what is not, and Diſſimulation a Concealment of what is. The latter [106] is our preſent Affair. When you look round you in publick Places in this Iſland, you ſee the Generality of Mankind carry in their Countenance an Air of Challenge or Defiance: And there is no ſuch Man to be found among us who naturally ſtrives to do greater Honours and Civilities than he receives. This innate Sullenneſs or Stubborneſs of Complexion is hardly to be conquered by any of our Iſlanders. For which Reaſon, however they may pretend to chooſe one another, they make but very aukward Rogues; and their Diſlike to each other is ſeldom ſo well diſſembled, but it is ſuſpected. When once it is ſo, it had as good be profeſſed. A Man who diſſembles well, muſt have none of what we call Stomach, otherwiſe he will be cold in his Profeſſions of Good-Will where he hates; an Imperfection of the laſt ill Conſequence in Buſineſs. This Fierceneſs in our Natures is apparent from the Conduct of our young Fellows, who are not got into the Schemes and Arts of Life which the Children of this World walk by. One would think that of Courſe, when a Man of any Conſequence for his Figure, his Mien, or his Gravity, paſſes by a Youth, he ſhould certainly have the firſt Advances of Salutation; but he is, you may obſerve, treated in a quite different Manner, it being the very Characteriſtick of an Engliſh Temper to defy. As I am an Engliſhman, I find it a very hard Matter to bring my ſelf to pull off the Hat firſt; but it is the only Way to be upon any good Terms with thoſe we meet with: Therefore the firſt Advance is of high Moment. Men judge of others by themſelves; and he that will command with us, muſt condeſcend. It moves ones Spleen very agreeably to ſee Fellows pretend to be Diſſemblers without this Leſſon. They are ſo reſervedly complaiſant till they have learned to reſign their natural Paſſions, that all the Steps they make towards gaining thoſe whom [107] they would be well with, are but ſo many Marks of what they really are, and not of what they would appear.

The rough Britains, when they pretend to be artful towards one another, are ridiculous enough; but when they ſet up for Vices they have not, and diſſemble their Good with an Affectation of Ill, they are inſupportable. I know Two Men in this Town who make as good Figures as any in it, that manage their Credit ſo well as to be thought Atheiſts, and yet ſay their Prayers Morning and Evening. Tom. Springly t'other Day pretended to go to an Aſſignation with a married Woman at Roſamond's-Pond, and was ſeen ſoon after reading the Reſponſes with great Gravity at Six of Clock Prayers.

Though the following Epiſtle bears a juſt Accuſation of my ſelf, yet in regard it is a more advantagious Piece of Juſtice to another, I inſert it at large.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Have lately read your Paper, wherein you repreſent a Converſation between a young Lady, your Three Nephews, and your ſelf; and am not a little offended at the Figure you give your young Merchant in the Preſence of a Beauty. The Topick of Love is a Subject on which a Man is more beholden to Nature for his Eloquence, than to the Inſtruction of the Schools, or my Lady's Woman. From the Two latter, your Scholar and Page muſt have reaped all their Advantage above him—I know by this Time you have pronounced me a Trader. I acknowledge it, but cannot bear the Excluſion from any Pretence of ſpeaking agreeably to a Fine Woman, or from any Degree of Generoſity that Way. You have among us Citizens [108] many Well-wiſhers, but it is for the Juſtice of your Repreſentations, which we, perhaps, are better Judges of than you (by the Account you give of your Nephew) ſeem to allow.

To give you an Opportunity of making us ſome Reparation, I deſire you would tell your own Way the following Inſtance of Heroick Love in the City. You are to remember, that ſomewhere in your Writings, for enlarging the Territories of Virtue and Honour, you have multiplied the Opportunities of attaining to Heroick Virtue, and have hinted, that in whatever State of Life a Man is, if he does Things above what is ordinarily performed by Men of his Rank, he is in thoſe Inſtances an Hero.

Tom Trueman, a young Gentleman of Eighteen Years of Age, fell paſſionately in Love with the beauteous Almira, Daughter to his Maſter. Her Regard for him was no leſs tender. Trueman was better acquainted with his Maſter's Affairs than his Daughter, and ſecretly lamented, that each Day brought him by many Miſcarriages nearer Bankrupcy than the former. This unhappy Poſture of their Affairs the Youth ſuſpected was owing to the ill Management of a Factor, in whom his Maſter had an entire Confidence. Trueman took a proper Occaſion, when his Maſter was ruminating on his decaying Fortune, to addreſs him for Leave to ſpend the Remainder of his Time with his Foreign Correſpondent. During Three Years Stay in that Employment, he became acquainted with all that concerned his Maſter; and by his great Addreſs in the Management of that Knowledge, ſaved him Ten thouſand Pounds. Soon after this Accident, Trueman's Unkle left him a conſiderable Eſtate. Upon receiving that Advice, he returned to England, and demanded Almira of her Father. The Father over joy'd at the Match, offer'd him the 10000 l. he [109] had ſaved him, with the further Propoſal of reſigning to him all his Buſineſs, Trueman refuſed both, and retired into the Country with his Bride, contented with his own Fortune, tho' perfectly skill'd in all the Methods of improving it.

It is to be noted, That Trueman refuſed Twenty Thouſand Pounds with another young Lady; ſo that reckoning both his Self-Denials, he is to have in your Court the Merit of having given 30000 l. for the Woman he loved. This Gentleman I claim your Juſtice to; and hope you will be convinced, that ſome of us have larger Views than only Caſh Debtor, per contra Creditor.

Yours, Richard Traffick.

N. B. Mr. Thomas Trueman of Lime-ſtreet is enter'd among the Heroes of Domeſtick Life.

Charles Lillie.

The TATLER. [No 214.
From Saturd. Aug. 19. to Tueſd. Aug. 22. 1710.

— Soles & aperta Serena
Proſpicere, & certis poteris cognoſcere Signis.
Virg.

IN every Party there are Two Sorts of Men, the Rigid and the Supple. The Rigid are an intractable Race of Mortals, who act upon Principle, and will not, forſooth, fall into any Meaſures that are not conſiſtent with their received [110] Notions of Honour. Theſe are Perſons of a ſtubborn, unpliant Morality, that ſullenly adhere to their Friends when they are diſgraced, and to their Principles, tho' they are exploded. I ſhall therefore give up this ſtiff-necked Generation to their own Obſtinacy, and turn my Thoughts to the Advantage of the Supple, who pay their Homage to Places, and not Perſons; and without enſlaving themſelves to any particular Scheme of Opinions, are as ready to change their Conduct in Point of Sentiment, as of Faſhion. The welldiſciplined Part of a Court are generally ſo perfect at their Exerciſe, that you may ſee a whole Aſſembly, from Front to Rear, face about at once to a new Man of Power, tho' at the ſame Time they turn their Backs upon him that brought them thither. The great Hardſhip theſe complaiſant Members of Society are under, ſeems to be the Want of Warning upon any approaching Change or Revolution; ſo that they are obliged in a Hurry to tack about with every Wind, and ſtop ſhort in the Midſt of a full Career, to the great Surprize and Deriſion of their Beholders.

When a Man foreſees a decaying Miniſtry, he has Leiſure to grow a Malecontent, reflect upon the preſent Conduct, and by gradual Murmurs fall off from his Friends into a new Party, by juſt Steps and Meaſures. For Want of ſuch Notices, I have formerly known a very well-bred Perſon refuſe to return a Bow of a Man whom he thought in Diſgrace, that was next Day made Secretary of State; and another, who after a long Neglect of a Miniſter, came to his Levee, and made Profeſſions of Zeal for his Service the very Day before he was turned out.

This produces alſo unavoidable Confuſions and Miſtakes in the Deſcriptions of great Mens Parts and Merits. That ancient Lyrick, Mr. D'Urfey, ſome Years ago writ a Dedication to a certain Lord, in which he celebrated him for the greateſt [111] Poet and Critick of that Age, upon a Miſinformation in Dyer's Letter, that his noble Patron was made Lord Chamberlain. In ſhort, innumerable Votes Speeches, and Sermons, have been thrown away, and turned to no Account, meerly for Want of due and timely Intelligence. Nay it has been known, that a Panegyrick has been half printed off, when the Poet, upon the Removal of the Miniſter, has been forced to alter it into a Satyr.

For the Conduct therefore of ſuch uſeful Perſons as are ready to do their Country Service upon all Occaſions, I have an Engine in my Study, which is a Sort of a Political Barometer, or, to ſpeak more intelligibly, a State Weather-Glaſs, that, by the riſing and falling of a certain Magical Liquor, preſages all Changes and Revolutions in Government, as the common Glaſs does thoſe of the Weather. This Weather-Glaſs is ſaid to have been invented by Cardan, and given by him as a Preſent to his great Countryman and Contemporary Machiavel, which (by the Way) may ſerve to rectify a received Error in Chronology, that places one of theſe ſome Years after the other. How or when it came into my Hands, I ſhall deſire to be excuſed, if I keep to my ſelf; but ſo it is, that I have walked by it for the better Part of a Century, to my Safety at leaſt, if not to my Advantage; and have among my Papers, a Regiſter of all the Changes that have happened in it from the Middle of Queen Elizabeth's Reign.

In the Time of that Princeſs, it ſtood long at ſettled Fair. At the latter End of King James the Firſt, it fell to Cloudy. It held ſeveral Years after at Stormy; inſomuch that at laſt deſpairing of ſeeing any Clear Weather at Home, I follow'd the Royal Exile, and ſome Time after finding my Glaſs riſe, returned to my native Country with the reſt of the Loyaliſts. I was then in [112] Hopes to paſs the Remainder of my Days in ſettled Fair: But alas! during the greateſt Part of that Reign, the Engliſh Nation lay in a dead Calm, which, as it is uſual, was followed by high Winds and Tempeſts till of late Years: In which, with unſpeakable Joy and Satisfaction, I have ſeen our Political Weather returned to ſettled Fair. I muſt only obſerve, that for all this laſt Summer my Glaſs has pointed at Changeable. Upon the whole, I often apply to Fortune Aenaeas's Speech to the Sybil:

— Non ulla Laborum,
O Virgo, nova mi Facies inopinave ſurgit
Omnia praecepi, at (que) Animo mecum ante peregi.

The Advantages which have accured to thoſe whom I have adviſed in their Affairs, by Vertue of this Sort of Praeſcience, have been very conſiderable. A Nephew of mine, who has never put his Money into the Stocks, or taken it out, without my Advice, has in a few Years raiſed Five hundred Pounds to almoſt ſo many Thouſands. As for my ſelf, who look upon Riches to conſiſt rather in Content than Poſſeſſions, and meaſure the Greatneſs of the Mind rather by its Tranquility than its Ambition. I have ſeldom uſed my Glaſs to make my Way in the World, but often to retire from it. This is a By-Path to Happineſs, which was firſt diſcovered to me by a moſt pleaſing Apothegm of Pythagoras: When the Winds, ſays he, riſe, worſhip the Eccho. That great Philoſopher (whether to make his Doctrines the more venerable, or to guild his Precepts with the Beauty of Imagination, or to awaken the Curioſity of his Diſciples; for I will not ſuppoſe what is uſually ſaid, that he did it to conceal his Wiſdom from the Vulgar) has couched ſeveral admirable Precepts in remote Alluſions and myſterious Sentences. By the Winds in this Apothegm, are meant State-Hurricanes and popular [113] Tumults. When theſe ariſe, ſays he, worſhip the Eccho; that is, withdraw your ſelf from the Multitude into Deſerts, Woods, Solitudes, or the like Retirements, which are the uſual Habitations of the Eccho.

The TATLER. [No 215.
From Tueſday Aug. 22. to Thurſday Aug. 24. 1710.

LYſander has writ to me out of the Country, and tells me, after many other Circumſtances, that he had paſſed a great deal of Time with much Pleaſure and Tranquility, till his Happineſs was interrupted by an indiſcreet Flatterer, who came down into thoſe Parts to viſit a Relation. With the Circumſtances in which he repreſents the Matter, he had no ſmall Provocation to be offended, for he attacked him in ſo wrong a Seaſon, that he could not have any Reliſh of Pleaſure in it; tho', perhaps, at another Time, it might have paſſed upon him without giving him much Uneaſineſs. Lyſander had, after a long Satiety of the Town, been ſo happy as to get to a Solitude he extremely liked, and recovered a Pleaſure he had long diſcontinued, that of Reading. He was got to the Bank of a Rivulet, covered by a pleaſing Shade, and fanned by a ſoft Breeze, which threw his Mind into that Sort of Compoſure and Attention, in which a Man, though with Indolence, enjoys the utmoſt Livelineſs of his Spirits, and the greateſt Strength of his Mind at the ſame Time. In this State, Lyſander repreſents that he was reading Virgil's Georgicks; when on a ſudden the Gentleman abovementioned ſurpriſed him, and, without any [114] Manner of Preparation, falls upon him at once, ‘'What! I have found you out at laſt, after ſearching all over the Wood. We wanted you at Cards after Dinner, but you are much better employed. I have heard indeed that you are an excellent Scholar: But at the ſame Time, is it not a little unkind to rob the Ladies, who like you ſo well, of the Pleaſure of your Company? But that is indeed the Misfortune of you great Scholars, you are ſeldom ſo fit for the World, as thoſe who never trouble themſelves with Books. Well, I ſee you are taken up with your Learning there, and I'll leave you.'’ Lyſander ſays, he made him no Anſwer, but took a Reſolution to complain to me.

It is a ſubſtantial Affliction, when Men govern themſelves by the Rules of good Breeding, that by the very Force of them they are ſubjected to the Inſolence of thoſe who either never will, or never can, underſtand them. The ſuperficial Part of Mankind form to themſelves little Meaſures of Behaviour from the Outſide of Things. By the Force of theſe narrow Conceptions, they act amongſt themſelves with Applauſe, and do not apprehend they are contemptible to thoſe of higher Underſtanding, who are reſtrained by Decencies above their Knowledge from ſhowing a Diſlike. Hence it is, that becauſe Complaiſance is a good Quality in Converſation, one Impertinent takes upon him on all Occaſions to commend; and becauſe Mirth is agreeable, another thinks fit eternally to jeſt. I have of late received many Packets of Letters complaining of theſe ſpreading Evils. A Lady who is lately arrived at the Bath acquaints me, there was in the Stage-Coach wherein ſhe went down a common Flatterer, and a common Jeſter. Theſe Gentlemen were (ſhe tells me) Rivals in her Favour and adds, If there ever happened a Caſe wherein of Two Perſons One was not liked more than [115] another, it was in that Journey. They differed only in Proportion to the Degree of Diſlike between the Nauſeous and the Inſipid. Both theſe Characters of Men are born out of a Barrenneſs of Imagination. They are never Fools by Nature, but become ſuch out of an impotent Ambition of being what ſhe never intended them, Men of Wit and Converſation. I therefore think fit to declare, That according to the known Laws of this Land, a Man may be a very honeſt Gentleman, and enjoy himſelf and his Friend, without being a Wit; and I abſolve all Men from taking Pains to be ſuch for the future. As the preſent Caſe ſtands, is it not very unhappy that Lyſander muſt be attacked and applauded in a Wood, and Corinna jolted and commended in a Stage-Coach; and this for no manner of Reaſon, but becauſe other People have a Mind to ſhow their Parts? I grant indeed, if theſe People (as they have Underſtanding enough for it) would confine their Accompliſhments to thoſe of their own Degree of Talents, it were to be tolerated; but when they are ſo inſolent as to interrupt the Meditations of the Wiſe, the Converſations of the Agreeable, and the whole Behaviour of the Modeſt, it becomes a Grievance naturally in my Juriſdiction. Among themſelves, I cannot only overlook, but approve it. I was preſent the other Day at a Converſation, where a Man of this Height of Breeding and Senſe told a young Woman of the ſame Form, To be ſure, Madam, every Thing muſt pleaſe that comes from a Lady. She anſwer'd, I know, Sir, you are ſo much a Gentleman that you think ſo. Why, this is very well on both Sides; and it is impoſſible that ſuch a Gentleman and Lady ſhould do other than think well of one another, Theſe are but looſe Hints of the Diſturbances in humane Society, of which there is yet no Remedy: But I ſhall in a little Time publiſh Tables of Reſpect and Civility, by [116] which Perſons may be inſtructed in the proper Times and Seaſons, as well as at what Degree of Intimacy a Man may be allowed to commend or rally his Companions; the promiſcuous Licence of which is at preſent far from being among the ſmall Errors in Converſation.

P. S. The following Letter was left, with a Requeſt to be immediately anſwered, leſt the Artifices uſed againſt a Lady in Diſtreſs may come into common Practice.

SIR,

MY elder Siſter buried her Husband about Six Months ago; and at his Funeral, a Gentleman of more Art than Honeſty, on the Night of his Interrment, while ſhe was not her ſelf, but in the utmoſt Agony of her Grief, ſpoke to her of the Subject of Love. In that Weakneſs and Diſtractio [...] which my Siſter was in, (as one ready to fall is ap [...] to lean on any Body) he obtained her Promiſe of Marriage, which was accordingly conſummated Eleve [...] Weeks after. There is no Affliction comes alone, bu [...] one brings another. My Siſter is now ready to Lie-i [...] She humbly asks of you, as you are a Friend to th [...] Sex, to let her know who is the lawful Father of thi [...] Child, or whether ſhe may not be relieved from thi [...] Second Marriage, conſidering it was promiſed unde [...] ſuch Circumſtances as one may very well ſuppoſe ſh [...] did not what ſhe did voluntarily, but becauſe ſ [...] was helpleſs otherwiſe. She is adviſed ſomethin [...] about Engagements made in Gaol, which ſhe thin [...] the ſame as to the Reaſon of the Thing. But, dea [...] Sir, ſhe relies upon your Advice, and gives you h [...] Service; as does

Your humble Servant, Rebecca Midriff

[117] The Caſe is very hard; and I fear, the Plea ſhe is adviſed to make, from the Similitude of a Man who is in Dureſſe, will not prevail. But tho' I deſpair of Remedy as to the Mother, the Law gives the Child his Choice of his Father where the Birth is thus legally ambiguous.

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq
The humble Petition of the Company of Linendrapers reſiding within the Liberty of Weſtminſter;

SHEWETH,

THat there has of late prevailed among the Ladies ſo great an Affectation of Nakedneſs, that they have not only left the Boſom wholly bare, but lowered their Stays ſome Inches below the former Mode.

That in Particular, Mrs. Arabella Overdo has not the leaſt Appearance of Linen, and our beſt Cuſtomers ſhow but little above the Small of their Backs.

That by this Means, your Petitioners are in Danger of loſing the Advantage of covering a Ninth Part of every Woman of Quality in Great Britain.

Your Petitioners humbly offer the Premiſſes to your Indulgence's Conſideration, and ſhall ever, &c.

Before I anſwer this Petition, I am inclined to examine the Offenders my ſelf.

The TATLER. [No 216.
From Thurſd. Aug. 24. to Saturd. Aug. 26. 1710.

[118]
— Nugis addere Pondus.

NAture is full of Wonders; every Atom is a ſtanding Miracle, and endowed with ſuch Qualities, as could not be impreſſed on it by a Power and Wiſdom leſs than Infinite. For this Reaſon, I would not diſcourage any Searches that are made into the moſt minute and trivial Parts of the Creation. However, ſince the World abounds in the nobleſt Fields of Speculation, it is, methinks, the Mark of a little Genius to be wholly converſant among Inſects, Reptiles, Animalcules, and thoſe trifling Rarities that furniſh out the Apartment of a Virtuoſo.

There are ſome Men whoſe Heads are ſo odly turned this Way, that tho' they are utter Strangers to the common Occurrences of Life, they are able to diſcover the Sex of a Cockle, or deſcribe the Generation of a Mite, in all its Circumſtances. They are ſo little verſed in the World, that they ſcarce know a Horſe from an Ox; but at the ſame Time will tell you, with a great deal of Gravity, That a Flea is a Rhinoceros, and a Snail an Hermaphrodite. I have known one of theſe whimſical Philoſophers who has ſet a greater Value upon a Collection of Spiders than he would upon a Collection of Spiders than he would upon a Flock of Sheep, and has ſold his Coat off his Back to purchaſe a Tarantula.

I would not have a Scholar wholly unacquainted with theſe Secrets and Curioſities of Nature; but certainly the Mind of Man, that is capable of [119] ſo much higher Contemplations, ſhould not be altogether fixed upon ſuch mean and diſproportioned Objects. Obſervations of this Kind are apt to alienate us too much from the Knowledge of the World, and to make us ſerious upon Trifles, by which Means they expoſe Philoſophy to the Ridicule of the Witty, and Contempt of the Ignorant. In ſhort, Studies of this Nature ſhould be the Diverſions, Relaxations, and Amuſements; not the Care, Buſineſs, and Concern of Life.

It is indeed wonderful to conſider, that there ſhould be a Sort of learned Men who are wholly employed in gathering together the Refuſe of Nature, if I may call it ſo, and hoarding up in their Cheſts and Cabinets ſuch Creatures as others induſtriouſly avoid the Sight of. One does not know how to mention ſome of the moſt precious Parts of their Treaſure, without a Kind of an Apology for it. I have been ſhown a Beetle valued at Twenty Crowns, and a Toad at an Hundred; But we muſt take this for a general Rule, That whatever appears trivial or obſcene in the common Notions of the World, looks grave and philoſophical in the Eye of a Virtuoſo.

To ſhow this Humour in its Perfection, I ſhall preſent my Reader with the Legacy of a certain Virtuoſo, who laid out a conſiderable Eſtate in natural Rarities and Curioſities, which upon his Death-Bed he bequeathed to his Relations and Friends, in the following Words:

The Will of a Virtuoſo.

I Nicholas Gimcrack being in ſound Health of Mind, but in great Weakneſs of Body, do by this my Laſt Will and Teſtament beſtow my Worldly Goods and Chattels in Manner following:

[120] Imprimis, To my dear Wife,

  • One Box of Butterflies,
  • One Drawer of Shells,
  • A Female Skeleton,
  • A dried Cockatrice.

Item, To my Daughter Elizabeth,

  • My Receipt for preſerving dead Caterpillars.
  • As alſo my Preparations of Winter May-Dew, and Embrio Pickle.

Item, To my little Daughter Fanny,

  • Three Crocodiles Eggs.

And upon the Birth of her Firſt Child, if ſhe marries with her Mother's Conſent,

  • The Neſt of an Humming-Bird.

Item, To my eldeſt Brother, as an Acknowledgment for the Lands he has veſted in my Son Charles, I bequeath

  • My laſt Year's Collection of Graſhoppers.

Item, To his Daughter Suſanna, being his only Child, I bequeath my

  • Engliſh Weeds paſted on Royal Paper. With my large Folio of Indian Cabbage.

Item, To my learned and worthy Friend Dr. Johannes Elſcrikius, Profeſſor in Anatomy, and my Aſſociate in the Studies of Nature, as an eternal Monument of my Affection and Friendſhip for him, I bequeath

  • My Rat's Teſticles, and
  • Whale's Pizzle,

To him and his Iſſue Male; and in Default of ſuch Iſſue in the ſaid Dr. Elſcrickius, then to return to my Executor and his Heirs for ever.

Having fully provided for my Nephew Iſaac, by making over to him ſome Years ſince

  • A Horned Scarabaeus,
  • The Skin of a Rattle-Snake, and
  • The Mummy of an Egyptian King,

[121] I make no further Proviſion for him in this my Will.

My eldeſt Son John having ſpoken diſreſpectfully of his little Siſter whom I keep by me in Spirits of Wine, and in many other Inſtances behaved himſelf undutifully towards me, I do diſinherit, and wholly cut off from any Part of this my Perſonal Eſtate, by giving him a ſingle Cockle Shell.

To my Second Son Charles, I give and bequeath all my Flowers, Plants, Minerals, Moſſes, Shells, Pebbles, Foſſils, Beetles, Butterflies, Caterpillars, Graſhoppers, and Vermin, not above ſpecified: As alſo all my Monſters, both wet and dry, making the ſaid Charles whole and ſole Executor of this my Laſt Will and Teſtament; he paying, or cauſing to be paid, the aforeſaid Legacies within the Space of Six Months after my Deceaſe. And I do hereby revoke all other Wills whatſoever by me formerly made.

ADVERTISEMENT,

Wheras an ignorant Upſtart in Aſtrology has publickly endeavoured to perſwade the World, that he is the late John Partridge, who died the 28th of March, 1708; Theſe are to certifie all whom it may concern, That the true John Partridge was not only dead at that Time, but continues ſo to this preſent Day.

Beware of Counterfeits, for ſuch are Abroad.

The TATLER. [No 217.
From Saturd. Aug. 26. to Tueſd. Aug. 29. 1710.

[122]
At (que) Does at (que) Aſtra vocat crudelia Mater.

AS I was paſſing by a Neighbour's Houſe this Morning, I overheard the Wife of the Family ſpeak Things to her Husband which gave me much Diſturbance, and put me in Mind of a Character which I wonder I have ſo long omitted, and that is, an outragious Species of the Fair Sex which is diſtinguiſhed by the Term Scolds. The Generality of Women are by Nature loquacious: Therefore meer Volubility of Speech is not to be imputed to them, but ſhould be conſidered with Pleaſure when it is uſed to expreſs ſuch Paſſions as tend to ſweeten or adorn Converſation: But when, thro' Rage, Females are vehement in their Eloquence, nothing in the World has ſo ill an Effect upon the Features; for by the Force of it, I have ſeen the moſt Amiable become the moſt Deformed; and ſhe that appeared one of the Graces, immediately turned into one of the Furies. I humbly conceive, the great Cauſe of this Evil may proceed from a falſe Notion the Ladies have of what we call a Modeſt Woman. They have too narrow a Conception of this lovely Character, and believe they have not at all forfeited their Pretenſions to it, provided they have no Imputations on their Chaſtity. But alas! the young Fellows know they pick out better Women in the Side-Boxes, than many of thoſe who paſs upon the World and themſelves for Modeſt.

[123] Modeſty never rages, never murmurs, never pouts: When it is ill treated, it pines, it beſeeches, it languiſhes. The Neighbour I mention is one of your common modeſt Women, that is to ſay, thoſe as are ordinarily reckoned ſuch. Her Husband knows every Pain in Life with her but Jealouſy. Now becauſe ſhe is clear in this Particular, the Man can't ſay his Soul's his own, but ſhe cries, No modeſt Woman is reſpected now a-days. What adds to the Comedy in this Caſe is, that it is very ordinary with this Sort of Women to talk in the Language of Diſtreſs: They will complain of the forlorn Wretchedneſs of their Condition, and then the poor helpleſs Creatures ſhall throw the next Thing they can lay their Hands on at the Perſon who offends them. Our Neighbour was only ſaying to his Wife, ſhe went a little too fine, when ſhe immediately pulled his Periwig off, and ſtamping it under her Feet, wrung her Hands, and ſaid, Never modeſt Woman was ſo uſed: Theſe Ladies of irreſiſtible Modeſty are thoſe who make Virtue unamiable; not that they can be ſaid to be virtuous, but as they live without Scandal; and being under the common Denomination of being ſuch, Men fear to meet their Faults in thoſe who are as agreeable as they are innocent.

I take the Bully among Men, and the Scold among Women, to draw the Foundation of their Actions from the ſame Defect in the Mind A Bully thinks Honour conſiſts wholly in being brave, and therefore has Regard to no one Rule of Life, if he preſerves himſelf from the Accuſation of Cowardize. The froward Woman knows Chaſtity to be the firſt Merit in a Woman; and therefore, ſince no one can call her one ugly Name, ſhe calls all Mankind all the reſt.

Theſe Ladies, where their Companions are ſo imprudent as to take their Speeches for any other than Exerciſes of their own Lungs, and their [124] Husbands Patience, gain by the Force of being reſiſted, and flame with open Fury, which is no Way to be oppoſed but by being neglected: Tho' at the ſame Time Humane Frailty makes it very hard to reliſh the Philoſophy of contemning even frivolous Reproach. There is a very pretty Inſtance of this Infirmity in the Man of the beſt Senſe that ever was, no leſs a Perſon than Adam himſelf. According to Milton's Deſcription of the Firſt Couple, as ſoon as they had fallen, and the turbulent Paſſions of Anger, Hatred, and Jealouſy, firſt enter'd their Breaſts, Adam grew moody, and talked to his Wife, as you may find it in the 359th Page, and 9th Book, of Paradiſe Leſt, in the Octave Edition, which out of Heroicks, and put into Domeſtick Stile, would run thus:

‘'Madam, If my Advice had been of any Authority with you when that ſtrange Deſire of Gadding poſſeſſed you this Morning, we had ſtill been happy: But your curſed Vanity and Opinion of your own Conduct, which is certainly very wavering when it ſeeks Occaſions of being proved, has ruined both your ſelf, and me who truſted you.'’

Eve had no Fan in her Hand to ruffle, or Tucker to pull down, but with a reproachful Air ſhe anſwered:

‘Sir, Do you impute that to my Deſire of Gadding, which might have happened to your ſelf with all your Wiſdom and Gravity?'’ The Serpent ſpoke ſo excellently, and with ſo good a Grace, that—Beſides, ‘'What Harm had I ever done him, that he ſhould deſign me any? Was I to have been always at your Side, I might as well have continued there, and been but your Rib ſtill: But if I was ſo weak a Creature as you thought me, Why did you not interpoſe your ſage Authority more abſolutely? [125] You denied me going as faintly, as you ſay I reſiſted the Serpent. Had not you been too eaſie, neither you or I had now tranſgreſſed.'’

Adam replied, ‘'Why, Eve. haſt thou the Impudence to upbraid me as the Cauſe of thy Tranſgreſſion for my Indulgence to thee? Thus it will ever be with him who truſts too much to Woman: At the ſame Time that ſhe refuſes to be governed, if ſhe ſuffers by her Oſtinacy, ſhe will accuſe the Man that ſhall leave her to her ſelf.'’

Thus they in mutual Accuſation ſpent
The fruitleſs Hours, but neither ſelf condemning:
And of their vain Conteſt appear'd no End.

This to the Modern will appear but a very faint Piece of Conjugal Enmity; but you are to conſider, that they were but juſt begun to be angry, and they wanted new Words for expreſſing their new Paſſions. But her accuſing him of letting her go, and telling him how good a Speaker, and how fine a Gentleman the Devil was, we muſt reckon, allowing for the Improvements of Time, that ſhe gave him the ſame Provocation as if ſhe had called him Cuckold. The paſſionate and familiar Terms with which the ſame Caſe, repeated daily for ſo many Thouſand Years, has furniſhed the preſent Generation, were not then in Uſe; but the Foundation of Debate has ever been the ſame, a Contention about their Merit and Wiſdom. Our general Mother was a Beauty, and hearing there was another now in the World, could not forbear (as Adam tells her) ſhowing her ſelf, though to the Devil, by whom the ſame Vanity made her liable to be betrayed.

I cannot, with all the Help of Science and, Aſtrology, find any other Remedy for this Evil but what was the Medicine in this firſt Quarrel; which was, as appeared in the next Book, that [126] they were convinced of their being both weak, but one weaker than the other.

If it were poſſible that the Beauteous could but rage a little before a Glaſs, and ſee their pretty Countenances grow wild, it is not to be doubted but it would have a very good Effect; but that would require Temper: For Lady Firebrand, upon obſerving her Features ſwell when her Maid vexed her the other Day, ſtamped her Dreſſing-Glaſs under her Feet. In this Caſe, when one of this Temper is moved, ſhe is like a Witch in an Operation, and makes all Things turn round with her. The very Fabrick is in a Vertigo when ſhe begins to charm. In an Inſtant, whatever was the Occaſion that moved her Blood, ſhe has ſuch intolerable Servants, Betty is ſo aukward, Tom can't carry a Meſſage, and her Husband has ſo little Reſpect for her, that ſhe, poor Woman, is weary of this Life, and was born to be unhappy.

Deſunt Multa.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The Seaſon now coming on in which the Town will begin to fill, Mr. Bickerſtaff gives Notice, That from the firſt of October next, he will be much wittier than he has hitherto been.

The TATLER. [No 218.
From Tueſday Aug. 29. to Thurſday Aug. 31. 1710.

[127]
Scriptorum Chorus omnis amat Nemus & fugit Urbe [...]
Hor.

I Chanced to riſe very early one particular Morning this Summer, and took a Walk into the Country to divert my ſelf among the Fields and Meadows, while the Green was new, and the Flowers in their Bloom. As at this Seaſon of the Year every Lane is a beautiful Walk, and every Hedge full of Noſegays, I loſt my ſelf with a great deal of Pleaſure among ſeveral Thickets and Buſhes that were filled with a great Variety of Birds, and an agreeable Confuſion of Notes, which formed the pleaſanteſt Scene in the World to one who had paſs'd a whole Winter in Noiſe and Smoak. The Freſhneſs of the Dews that lay upon every Thing about me, with the cool Breath of the Morning, which inſpired the Birds with ſo many delightful Inſtincts, created in me the ſame Kind of animal Pleaſure, and made my Heart overflow with ſuch ſecret Emotions of Joy and Satisfaction as are not to be deſcribed or accounted for. On this Occaſion I could not but reflect upon a beautiful Simile in Milton:

As one who long in populous City pent,
Where Houſes thick, and Sewers, annoy the Air,
Forth iſſuing on a Summer's Morn, to breath
Among the pleaſant Villages, and Farms
Adjoin'd, from each Thing met conceives Delight:
The Smell of Grain, or tedded Graſs, or Kine,
Or Dairy, each rural Sight, each rural Sound.

[128] Thoſe who are converſant in the Writings of polite Authors, receive an additional Entertainment from the Country, as it revives in their Memories thoſe charming Deſcriptions with which ſuch Authors do frequently abound.

I was thinking of the foregoing beautiful Simile in Milton, and applying it to my ſelf, when I obſerved to the Windward of me a black Cloud falling to the Earth in long Trails of Rain, which made me betake my ſelf for Shelter to a Houſe which I ſaw at a little Diſtance from the Place where I was walking. As I ſat in the Porch, I heard the Voices of Two or Three Perſons, who ſeemed very earneſt in Diſcourſe. My Curioſity was raiſed when I heard the Names of Alexander the Great and Artaxerxes; and as their Talk ſeemed to run on ancient Heroes, I concluded there could not be any Secret in it; for which Reaſon I thought I might very fairly liſten to what they ſaid.

After ſeveral Parallels between great Men, which appeared to me altogether groundleſs and chimerical, I was ſurprized to hear one ſay, That he valued the Black Prince more than the Duke of Vendoſme. How the Duke of Vendoſme ſhould become a Rival of the Black Prince's, I could not conceive: And was more ſtartled when I heard a Second affirm with great Vehemence, That if the Emperor of Germany was not going off, he ſhould like him better than either of them. He added, That tho' the Seaſon was ſo changeable, the Duke of Marlborough was in blooming Beauty. I was wondering to my ſelf from whence they had received this odd Intelligence, eſpecially when I heard them mention the Names of ſeveral other great Generals, as the Prince of Heſſe, and the King of Sweden, who, they ſaid, were both running away. To which they added, what I entirely agreed with them in, That the Crown of France was very weak, but that the Mareſchal [129] Villars ſtill kept his Colours. At laſt one of them told the Company, If they would go along with him, he would ſhow them a Chimney-Sweeper and a Painted Lady in the ſame Bed, which he was ſure would very much pleaſe them. The Shower which had driven them, as well as my ſelf, into the Houſe, was now over: And as they were paſſing by me into the Garden, I asked them to let me be one of their Company.

The Gentleman of the Houſe told me, if I delighted in Flowers, it would be worth my while, for that he believed he could ſhow me ſuch a Blow of Tulips as was not to be matched in the whole Country.

I accepted the Offer, and immediately found that they had been talking in Terms of Gardening, and that the Kings and Generals they had mentioned were only ſo many Tulips, to which the Gardiners, according to their uſual Cuſtom, had given ſuch high Titles and Appellations of Honour.

I was very much pleaſed and aſtoniſhed at the glorious Show of theſe gay Vegetables, that aroſe in great Profuſion on all the Banks about us. Sometimes I conſidered them with the Eye of an ordinary Spectator as ſo many beautiful Objects, varniſhed over with a natural Gloſs, and ſtained with ſuch a Variety of Colours, as are not to be equalled in any artificial Dyes or Tinctures. Sometimes I conſidered every Leaf as an elaborate Piece of Tiſſue, in which the Threads and Fibres were woven together into different Configurations, which gave a different Colouring to the Light as it glanced on the ſeveral Parts of the Surface. Sometimes I conſidered the whole Bed of Tulips, according to the Notion of the greateſt Mathematician and Philoſopher that ever lived, as a Multitude of Optick Inſtruments, deſigned for the ſeparating Light into all thoſe various Colours of which it is compoſed.

[130] I was awakened out of theſe my Philoſophical Speculations, by obſerving the Company often ſeemed to laugh at me. I accidentally praiſed a Tulip as one of the fineſt that I ever ſaw; upon which they told me, 'twas a common Fool's-Coat. Upon that I praiſed a Second, which it ſeems was but another Kind of Fool's-Coat. I had the ſame Fate with Two or Three more; for which Reaſon I deſired the Owner of the Garden to let me know which were the fineſt of the Flowers, for that I was ſo unskilful in the Art, that I thought the moſt beautiful were the moſt valuable, and that thoſe which had the gayeſt Colours were the moſt beautiful. The Gentleman ſmiled at my Ignorance: He ſeemed a very plain honeſt Man, and a Perſon of good Senſe, had not his Head been touched with that Diſtemper which Hippocrates calls the [...], Tulippomania; inſomuch that he would talk very rationally on any Subject in the World but a Tulip.

He told me, That he valued the Bed of Flowers which lay before us, and was not above Twenty Yards in Length, and Two in Breadth, more than he would the beſt Hundred Acres of Land in England; and added, That it would have been worth twice the Money it is, if a fooliſh Cook-Maid of his had not almoſt ruined him the laſt Winter, by miſtaking an Handful of Tulip-Roots for an Heap of Onions, and by that Means (ſays he) made me a Diſh of Porridge, that coſt me above 1000 l. Sterling. He then ſhowed me what he thought the fineſt of his Tulips, which I found received all their Value from their Rarity and Oddneſs, and put me in Mind of your great Fortunes, which are not always the greateſt Beauties.

I have often looked upon it as a Piece of Happineſs, that I have never fallen into any of theſe fantaſtical Taſts, nor eſteemed any Thing the more for its being uncommon and hard to be met [131] with. For this Reaſon, I look upon the whole Country in Spring-time as a ſpacious Garden, and make as many Viſits to a Spot of Daizies, or a Bank of Violets, as a Floriſt does to his Borders and Parterres. There is not a Buſh in Bloſſom within a Mile of me which I am not acquainted with, nor ſcarce a Daffodil or Cowſlip that withers away in my Neighbourhood without my miſſing it. I walked Home in this Temper of Mind through ſeveral Fields and Meadows with an unſpeakable Pleaſure, not without reflecting on the Bounty of Providence, which has made the moſt pleaſing and moſt beautiful Objects the moſt ordinary and moſt common.

The TATLER. [No 219.
From Thurſd. Aug. 31. to Saturd. Sept. 2. 1710.

— Solutos
Qui captat Riſus Hominum, Famam (que) Dicacis.
Affectat, niger eſt, hunc, tu Romane, caveto.

NEver were Men ſo perplexed as a ſelect Company of us were this Evening with a Couple of profeſſed Wits, who through our ill Fortune, and their own Confidence, had thought fit to pin themſelves upon a Gentleman who had owned to them that he was going to meet ſuch and ſuch Perſons, and named us one by one. Theſe pert Puppies immediately reſolved to come with him, and from the Beginning to the End of the Night entertained each other with Impertinencies, to which we were perfect Strangers. I am come Home very much tired; for the Affliction [132] was ſo irkſome to me, that it ſurpaſſes all other I ever knew, inſomuch that I cannot reflect upon this Sorrow with Pleaſure, though it is paſt.

An eaſy Manner of Converſation is the moſt deſirable Quality a Man can have; and for that Reaſon Coxcombs will take upon them to be familiar with People whom they never ſaw before. What adds to the Vexation of it is, that they will act upon the Foot of knowing you by Fame, and rally with you, as they call it, by repeating what your Enemies ſay of you; and court you, as they think, by uttering to your Face at a wrong Time all the kind Things your Friends ſpeak of you in your Abſence.

Theſe People are the more dreadful, the more they have of what is uſually called Wit: For a lively Imagination, when it is not governed by a good Underſtanding, makes ſuch miſerable Havock both in Converſation and Buſineſs, that it lays you defenceleſs, and fearful to throw the leaſt Word in its Way, that may give it new Matter for its further Errors.

Tom. Mercett has as quick a Fancy as any one living; but there is no reaſonable Man can bear him half an Hour. His Purpoſe is to entertain, and it is of no Conſequence to him what is ſaid, ſo it be what is called well ſaid; as if a Man muſt bear a Wound with Patience, becauſe he that puſhed at you came up with a good Air and Mien. That Part of Life which we ſpend in Company, is the moſt pleaſing of all our Moments; and therefore I think our Behaviour in it ſhould have its Laws as well as the Part of our Being, which is generally eſteemed the more important. From hence it is, that from long Experience I have made it a Maxim. that however we may pretend to take Satisfaction in ſprightly Mirth and high Jollity, there is no great Pleaſure in any Company where the Baſis of the Society [133] is not mutual Good-Will. When this is in the Room, every trifling Circumſtance, the moſt minute Accident, the Abſurdity of a Servant, the Repetition of an old Story, the Look of a Man when he is telling it, the moſt indifferent and the moſt ordinary Occurrences, are Matters which produce Mirth and good Humour. I went to ſpend an Hour after this Manner with ſome Friends who enjoy it in Perfection whenever they meet, when thoſe Deſtroyers above-mentioned came in upon us. There is not a Man among them has any Notion of Diſtinction of Superiority to one another, either in their Fortunes or their Talents, when they are in Company. Or if any Reflexion to the contrary occurs in their Thoughts, it only ſtrikes a Delight upon their Minds, that ſo much Wiſdom and Power is in Poſſeſſion of one whom they love and eſteem.

In theſe my Lucubrations, I have frequently dwelt upon this one Topick. It would make ſhort Work for us Reformers, for it is only Want of making this a Poſition that renders ſome Characters bad, which would otherwiſe be good. Tom Mercett means no Man Ill, but does Ill to every Body. His Ambition is to be witty; and to carry on that Deſign, he breaks through all Things that other People hold Sacred. If he thought Wit was no Way to be uſed but to the Advantage of Society, that Sprightlineſs would have a new Turn, and we ſhould expect what he is going to ſay with Satisfaction inſtead of Fear. It is no Excuſe for being miſchievous, that a Man is miſchievous without Malice; nor will it be thought an Attonement that the Ill was done not to injure the Party concern'd, but to divert the Indifferent.

It is, methinks, a very great Error, that we ſhould not profeſs Honeſty in Converſation as much as in Commerce. If we conſider, that there is no greater Misfortune than to be ill received [134] where we love the turning a Man to Ridicule among his Friends, we rob him of greater Enjoyments than he could have purchaſed by his Wealth; yet he that laughs at him, would perhaps be the laſt Man who would hurt him in this Caſe of leſs Conſequence. It has been ſaid, the Hiſtory of Don Quixote utterly deſtroyed the Spirit of Gallantry in the Spaniſh Nation; and I believe we may ſay much more truly, that the Humour of Ridicule has done as much Injury to the true Reliſh of Company in England.

Such Satisfactions as ariſe from the ſecret Compariſon of our ſelves to others, with relation to their inferior Fortunes or Merit, are mean and unworthy. The true and high State of Converſation is when Men communicate their Thoughts to each other upon ſuch Subjects, and in ſuch a Manner, as would be pleaſant if there were no ſuch Thing as Folly in the World; for it is but a low Condition of Wit in one Man which depends upon Folly in another.

P. S. I was here interrupted by the Receipt of my Letters, among which is one from a Lady, who is not a little offended at my Tranſlation of the Diſcourſe between Adam and Eve. She pretends to tell me my own, as ſhe calls it, and quotes ſeveral Paſſages in my Works which tend to the utter Diſunion of Man and Wife. Her Epiſtle will beſt expreſs her. I have made an Extract of it, and ſhall inſert the moſt material Paſſages.

I ſuppoſe you know we Women are not too apt to forgive: For which Reaſon, before you concern your ſelf any further with our Sex, I would adviſe you to anſwer what is ſaid againſt you by thoſe of your own. I incloſe to you Buſineſs enough till you are ready for your Promiſe of being witty. You muſt not expect to ſay what you pleaſe, without admitting others to take the ſame Liberty. Marry come up! [135] You a Cenſor? Pray read over all theſe Pamphlets, and theſe Notes upon your Lucubrations, by that Time you ſhall hear further. It is, I ſuppoſe, from ſuch as you that People learn to be Senſorious, for which I and all our Sex have an utter Averſion, when once People come to take the Liberty to wound Reputations—

This is the main Body of the Letter; but ſhe bids me turn over, and there I find—

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

If you will draw Mrs. Siſly Trippit according to the incloſed Deſcription, I will forgive you all.

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq
The humble Petition of Joſhua Fairlove of Stepney;

SHEWETH,

THat your Petitioner is a general Lover, who for ſome Months laſt paſt has made it his whole Buſineſs to frequent the By-Paths and Roads near his Dwelling, for no other Purpoſe but to hand ſuch of the Fair Sex as are obliged to paſs through them.

That he has been at great Expence for clean Gloves to offer his Hand with.

That towards the Evening he approaches near London, and employs himſelf as a Convey towards Home.

Your Petitioner therefore moſt humbly prays, That for ſuch his humble Services, he may be allowed the Title of an Eſquire.

Mr. Morphew has Orders to carry the proper Inſtruments, and the Petitioner is to be hereafter writ to upon gilt Paper, by the Title of Joſhua Fairlove Eſq

The TATLER. [No 220.
From Saturd. Sept. 2. to Tueſd. Sept. 5. 1710.

[136]
Inſani ſanus Nomen ferat, aequus iniqui,
Ultra quam ſatis eſt, Virtutem ſi petat ipſam.
Hor.

HAving received many Letters filled with Compliments and Acknowledgments for my late uſeful Diſcovery of the Political Barometer, I ſhall here communicate to the Publick an Account of my Eccleſiaſtical Thermometer, the latter giving as manifeſt Prognoſtications of the Changes and Revolutions in Church, as the former does of thoſe in State, and both of them being abſolutely neceſſary for every prudent Subject who is reſolved to keep what he has, and get what he can.

The Church Thermometer, which I am now to treat of, is ſuppoſed to have been invented in the Reign of Henry the Eighth, about the Time when that Religious Prince put ſome to Death for owning the Pope's Supremacy, and others for denying Tranſubſtantiation. I do not find, however, any great Uſe made of this Inſtrument till it fell into the Hands of a learned and vigilant Prieſt or Miniſter, (for he frequently wrote himſelf both one and the other) who was ſome Time Vicar of Bray. This Gentleman lived in his Vicaridge to a good old Age; and after having ſeen ſeveral Succeſſions of his neighbouring Clergy either burnt or baniſh'd, departed this Life with the Satisfaction of having never deſerted his [137] Flock, and died Vicar of Bray. As this Glaſs was firſt deſigned to calculate the different Degrees of Heat in Religion, as it raged in Popery, or as it cooled and grew temperate in the Reformation, it was marked at ſeveral Diſtances, after the Manner our ordinary Thermometer is to this Day, viz. Extream Hot ſultry Hot, very Hot, Hot, Warm, Temperate, Cold, juſt Freezing, Froſt, hard Froſt, great Froſt, extream Cold.

It is well known, that Toricellius, the Inventor of the common Weather-Glaſs, made the Experiment in a long Tube which held Thirty two Foot of Water; and that a more modern Virtuoſo finding ſuch a Machine altogether unweildy and uſeleſs, and conſidering that Thirty two Inches of Quickſilver weigh'd as much as ſo many Foot of Water in a Tube of the ſame Circumference, invented that fizeable Inſtrument which is now in Uſe. After this Manner, that I might adapt the Thermometer I am now ſpeaking of to the preſent Conſtitution of our Church, as divided into High and Low, I have made ſome neceſſary Variations both in the Tube and the Fluid it contains. In the firſt Place, I ordered a Tube to be caſt in a Planetary Hour, and took Care to ſeal it Hermetically, when the Sun was in Conjunction with Saturn. I then took the proper Precautions about the Fluid, which is a Compound of Two very different Liquors; one of them a Spirit drawn out of a ſtrong heady Wine; the other a particular Sort of Rock Water, colder than Ice, and clearer than Chryſtal. The Spirit is of a red fiery Colour, and ſo very apt to ferment, that unleſs it be mingled with a Proportion of the Water, or pent up very cloſe, it will burſt the Veſſel that holds it, and fly up in Fume and Smoak. The Water on the contrary is of ſuch a ſubtle piercing Cold, that unleſs it be mingled with a Proportion of the Spirits, it will ſink through almoſt every Thing that it is put into, and ſeems to be of the [138] ſame Nature as the Water mentioned by Quintus Curtius, which, ſays the Hiſtorian, could be contained in nothing but in the Hoof or (as the Oxford Manuſcript has it) in the Skull of an Aſs. The Thermometer is marked according to the following Figure, which I ſet down at length, not only to give my Reader a clear Idea of it, but alſo to fill up my Paper.

The Reader will obſerve, that the Church is placed in the Middle Point of the Glaſs, between Zeal and Moderation, the Situation in which ſhe always flouriſhes, and in which every good Engliſhman wiſhes her who is a Friend to the Conſtitution of his Country. However, when it mounts to Zeal, it is not amiſs; and when it ſinks to Moderation, is ſtill in a moſt admirable Temper. The worſt of it is, that when once it begins to riſe, it has ſtill an Inclination to aſcend, inſomuch that it is apt to climb from Zeal to Wrath, and from Wrath to Perſecution, which always ends in Ignorance, and very often proceeds from it. In the ſame Manner it frequently takes its Progreſs through the lower Half of the Glaſs; and when it has a Tendency to fall, will gradually deſcend from Moderation to Lukewarmneſs, and [139] from Lukewarmneſs to Infidelity, which very often terminates in Ignorance, and always proceeds from it.

It is a common Obſervation, that the ordinary Thermometer will be affected by the breathing of People who are in the Room where it ſtands; and indeed, it is almoſt incredible to conceive how the Glaſs I am now deſcribing will fall by the Breath of a Multitude crying Popery; or on the contrary, how it will riſe when the ſame Multitude (as it ſometimes happens) cry out in the ſame Breath, The Church is in Danger.

As ſoon as I had finiſhed this my Glaſs, and adjuſted it to the above-mentioned Scale of Religion, that I might make proper Experiments with it, I carried it under my Cloak to ſeveral Coffee-houſes, and other Places of Reſort about this great City. At St. James's Coffee-houſe, the Liquor ſtood at Moderation; but at Will's, to my extream Surprize, it ſubſided to the very loweſt Mark on the Glaſs. At the Grecian, it mounted but juſt one Point higher; at the Rainbow, it ſtill aſcended Two Decrees: Child's fetched it up to Zeal, and other adjacent Coffee-houſes to Wrath.

It fell into the lower Half of the Glaſs as I went further into the City, till at length it ſettled at Moderation, where it continued all the Time I ſtay'd about the Change, as alſo whilſt I paſſed by the Bank. And here I cannot but take Notice, that through the whole Courſe of my Remarks, I never obſerved my Glaſs to riſe at the ſame Time that the Stocks did.

To compleat the Experiment, I prevailed upon a Friend of mine, who works under me in the Occult Sciences, to make a Progreſs with my Glaſs through the whole Iſland of Great Britain; and after his Return, to preſent me with a Regiſter of his Obſervations. I gueſſed beforehand at the Temper of ſeveral Places he paſſed through, by the Characters they have had Time [140] out of Mind. Thus that facetious Divine, Dr. Fuller, ſpeaking of the Town of Banbury near a Hundred Years ago, tells us, it was a Place famous for Cakes and Zeal, which I find by my Glaſs is true to this Day as to the latter Part of this Deſcription; though I muſt confeſs, it is not in the ſame Reputation for Cakes that it was in the Time of that learned Author; and thus of other Places. In ſhort, I have now by me, digeſted in an Alphabetical Order, all the Counties, Corporations and Boroughs, in Great Britain, with their reſpective Tempers, as they ſtand related to my Thermometer: But this I ſhall keep to my ſelf, becauſe I would by no Means do any Thing that may ſeem to influence any enſuing Elections.

The Point of Doctrine which I would propagate by this my Invention, is the ſame which was long ago advanced by that able Teacher Horace, out of whom I have taken my Text for this Diſcourſe: We ſhould be careful not to overſhoot our ſelves in the Purſuits even of Virtue. Whether Zeal or Moderation be the Point we aim at, let us keep Fire out of the one, and Froſt out of the other. But alas! the World is too Wiſe to want ſuch a Precaution. The Terms High-Church and Low-Church, as commonly uſed, do not ſo much denote a Principle, as they diſtinguiſh a Party. They are like Words of Battle, that have nothing to do with their original Signification, but are only given out to keep a Body of Men together, and to let them know Friends from Enemies.

I muſt confeſs, I have conſidered with ſome little Attention the Influence which the Opinions of theſe great National Sects have upon their Practice; and do look upon it as one of the unaccountable Things of our Times, that Multitudes of honeſt Gentlemen, who entirely agree in their [141] Lives, ſhould take it in their Heads to differ in their Religion.

The TATLER. [No 221.
From Tueſday Sept. 5. to Thurſday Sept. 7. 1710.

— Sicut meus eſt Mos,
Neſcio quid meditans Nugarum, & totus in illis.
Hor.

AS I was this Morning going out of my Houſe, a little Boy in a black Coat delivered to me the following Letter. Upon asking who he was, he told me, that he belonged to my Lady Gimcrack. I did not at firſt recollect the Name; but upon Enquiry, found it to be the Widow of Sir Nicholas, whoſe Legacy I lately gave ſome Account of to the World. The Letter ran thus:

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Hope you will not be ſurpriſed to receive a Letter from the Widow Gimcrack. You know, Sir, that I have lately loſt a very whimſical Husband, who I find, by one of your laſt Weeks Papers, was not altogether a Stranger to you. When I married this Gentleman, he had a very handſome Eſtate; but upon buying a Set of Microſcopes, he was choſen a Fellow of the Royal Society; from which Time I do not remember ever to have heard him ſpeak as other People did, or talk in a Manner that any of his Family could underſtand him. He uſed, however, to paſs away his Time very innocently in Converſation with ſeveral Member; [142] of that learned Body; for which Reaſon I never adviſed him againſt their Company for ſeveral Years, till at laſt I found his Brain was quite turned with their Diſcourſes. The firſt Symptom which he diſcovered of his being a Virtuoſo, as you call him, poor Man! was about Fifteen Years ago, when he gave me poſitive Orders to turn off an old Weeding-Woman that had been employed in the Family for ſeveral Years. He told me at the ſame Time, that there was no ſuch Thing in Nature as a Weed, and that it was his Deſign to let his Garden produce what it pleaſed; ſo that you may be ſure it makes a very pleaſant Show as it now lies. About the ſame Time he took a Humour to ramble up and down the Country, and would often bring Home with him his Pockets full of Moſs and Pebbles. This you may be ſure gave me a heavy Heart; though at the ſame Time I muſt needs ſay, he had the Character of a very honeſt Man, notwithſtanding he was reckon'd a little weak, till he begun to ſell his Eſtate, and buy thoſe ſtrange Baubles that you have taken Notice of. Upon Midſummer-Day laſt, as he was walking with me in the Fields, he ſaw a very odd coloured Butterfly juſt before us. I obſerved, that he immediately changed Colour, like a Man that is ſurpriſed with a Piece of good Luck, and telling me that it was what he had looked for above theſe Twelve Years, he threw off his Coat, and followed it. I loſt Sight of them both in leſs than a quarter of an Hour; but my Husband continued the Chace over Hedge and Ditch till about Sun-ſet; at which Time, as I was afterwards told, he caught the Butterfly, as ſhe reſted her ſelf upon a Cabbage, near Five Miles from the Place where he firſt put her up. He was here lifted [143] from the Ground by ſome Paſſengers in a very fainting Condition, and brought Home to me about Midnight. His violent Exerciſe threw him into a Fever, which grew upon him by Degrees, and at laſt carried him off. In one of the Intervals of his Diſtemper, he called to me, and after having excuſed himſelf for running out of his Eſtate, he told me, That he had always been more induſtrious to improve his Mind than his Fortune; and that his Family muſt rather value themſelves upon his Memory as he was a wiſe Man, than a rich one. He then told me, That it was a Cuſtom among the Romans, for a Man to give his Slaves their Liberty when he lay upon his Death-Bed. I could not imagine what this meant, till after having a little compoſed himſelf, he ordered me to bring him a Flea which he had kept for ſeveral Months in a Chain, with a Deſign, as he ſaid, to give it its Manumiſſion. This was done accordingly. He then made the Will, which I have ſince ſeen printed in your Works Word for Word. Only I muſt take Notice, that you have omitted the Codicil, in which he left a large Concha Veneris, as it is there called, to a Member of the Royal Society, who was often with him in his Sickneſs, and aſſiſted him in his Will. And now, Sir, I come to the chief Buſineſs of my Letter, which is, to deſire your Friendſhip and Aſſiſtance in the Diſpoſal of thoſe many Rarities and Curioſities which lie upon my Hands. If you know any one that has an Occaſion for a Parcel of dry'd Spiders, I will ſell them a Pennyworth. I could likewiſe let any one have a Bargain of Cockle-Shells. I would alſo deſire your Advice, whether I had beſt ſell my Beetles in a Lump, or by Retail. The Gentleman above-mentioned, [144] who was my Husband's Friend, would have me make an Auction of all his Goods, and is now drawing up a Catalogue of every Particular for that Purpoſe, with the Two following Words in great Letters over the Head of them, Auctio Gimcrackiana. But upon talking with him, I begin to ſuſpect he is as mad as poor Sir Nicholas was. Your Advice in all theſe Particulars, will be a great Piece of Charity to,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, Elizabeth Gimcrack.

I ſhall anſwer the foregoing Letter, and give the Widow my beſt Advice, as ſoon as I can find out Chapmen for the Wares which ſhe has to put off. In the mean Time, I ſhall give my Reader the Sight of a Letter which I have received from another Female Correſpondent by the ſame Poſt.

Good Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Am convinced by a late Paper of yours, that a paſſionate Woman (which among the common People goes under the Name of a Scold) is one of the moſt unſupportable Creatures in the World. But alas! Sir, What can we do? I have made a Thouſand Vows and Reſolutions every Morning to guard my ſelf againſt this Frailty, but have generally broken them before Dinner, and could never in my Life hold out till the Second Courſe was ſet upon the Table. What moſt troubles me is, that my Husband is as patient and good-natured as you [...] own Worſhip, or any Man living can be. Pra [...] give me ſome Directions, for I would obſerve th [...] ſtricteſt and ſevereſt Rules you can think of to cu [...] [145] my ſelf of this Diſtemper, which is apt to fall into my Tongue every Moment. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, &c.

In Anſwer to this moſt unfortunate Lady, I muſt acquaint her, That there is now in Town an ingenious Phyſician of my Acquaintance, who undertakes to cure all the Vices and Defects of the Mind by inward Medicines, or outward Applications. I ſhall give the World an Account of his Patients and his Cures in other Papers, when I ſhall be more at Leiſure to treat upon this Subject. I ſhall only here inform my Correſpondent, That for the Benefit of ſuch Ladies that are troubled with virulent Tongues, he has prepared a Cold Bath, over which there is faſtened, at the End of a long Pole, a very convenient Chair, curiouſly gilt and carved. When the Patient is ſeated in this Chair, the Doctor lifts up the Pole, and gives her Two or Three total Emerſions in the Cold Bath, till ſuch Time as ſhe has quite loſt the Uſe of Speech. This Operation ſo effectually chills the Tongue, and refrigerates the Blood, that a Woman, who at her Entrance into the Chair is extreamly paſſionate and ſonorous, will come out as ſilent and gentle as a Lamb. The Doctor told me, he would not practiſe this Experiment upon Women of Faſhion, had not he ſeen it made upon thoſe of meaner Condition with very good Effect.

The TATLER. [No 222.
From Thurſday Sept. 7. to Saturday Sept. 9. 1710.

[146]
— Chryſidis Udas
Ebrius ante Fores extinct a cum Face cantat.
Perſius.

WHereas by Letters from Nottingham we have Advice, That the young Ladies of that Place complain for Want of Sleep, by reaſon of certain riotous Lovers, who for this laſt Summer have very much infeſted the Streets of that eminent City with Violins and Baſs-Viols, between the Hours of Twelve and Four in the Morning, to the great Diſturbance of many of Her Majeſty's peaceable Subjects. And whereas I have been importuned to publiſh ſome Edict againſt theſe Midnight Alarms, which, under the Name of Serenades, do greatly annoy many well-diſpoſed Perſons, not only in the Place above-mentioned, but alſo in moſt of the Polite Towns of this Iſland.

I have taken that Matter into my ſerious Conſideration, and do find, that this Cuſtom is by no means to be indulged in this Country and Climate.

It is indeed very unaccountable, that moſt of our Britiſh Youth ſhould take ſuch great Delight in theſe Nocturnal Expeditions. Your robuſt true-born Briton, that has not yet felt the Force of Flames and Darts, has a natural Inclination to break Windows; while th [...]ſe whoſe natural Ruggedneſs has been ſoothed and ſoftened by gentle Paſſion, have as ſtrong a Propenſity to languiſh under them, eſpecially if they have a Fidler behind [147] them to utter their Complaints: For as the Cuſtom prevails at preſent, there is ſcarce a young Man of any Faſhion in a Corporation who does not make Love with the Town-Muſick. The Waits often help him through his Courtſhip; and my Friend Mr. Baniſter has told me, he was proffered Five hundred Pounds by a young Fellow to play, but for one Winter under the Window of a Lady that was a great Fortune, but more cruel than ordinary. One would think they hoped to conquer their Miſtreſſes Hearts as People tame Hawks and Eagles, by keeping them awake, or breaking their Sleep when they are fallen into it.

I have endeavoured to ſearch into the Original of this impertinent Way of making Love, which, according to ſome Authors, is of great Antiquity. If we may believe Monſieur Dacier and other Criticks, Horace's Tenth Ode of the Third Book was originally a Serenade. And if I was diſpoſed to ſhow my Learning, I could produce a Line of him in another Place, which ſeems to have been the Burthen of an old Heathen Serenade.

" — Audis minus & minus jam
Me tuo tongas pereunte Noctes,
Lydia, Dormis?

But notwithſtanding the Opinions of many learned Men upon this Subject, I rather agree with them who look upon this Cuſtom, as now practiſed, to have been introduced by caſtrated Muſicians, who found out this Way of applying themſelves to their Miſtreſſes at theſe Hours, when Men of hoarſer Voices expreſs their Paſſions in a more vulgar Method. It muſt be confeſſed, That your Italian Eunuchs do practiſe this Manner of Courtſhip to this Day.

But whoever were the Perſons that firſt thought of the Serenade, the Authors of all Countries are unanimous in aſcribing the invention to Italy.

[148] There are Two Circumſtances which qualified that Country above all other for this Midnight Muſick.

The firſt I ſhall mention, was the Softneſs of their Climate.

This gave the Lover Opportunities of being Abroad in the Air, or of lying upon the Earth whole Hours together, without Fear of Damps or Dews; but as for our Tramontain Lovers, when they begin their Midnight Complaint with,

My Lodging it is on the cold Ground,

We are not to underſtand them in the Rigour of the Letter, ſince it would be impoſſible for a Britiſh Swain to condole himſelf long in that Situation without really dying for his Miſtreſs. A Man might as well ſerenade in Greenland as in our Region. Milton ſeems to have had in his Thoughts the Abſurdity of theſe Northern Serenades in the Cenſure which he paſſes upon them:

— Or Midnight Ball,
Or Serenede, which the Starv'd Lover ſings
To his proud Fair, beſt quitted with Diſdain.

The Truth of it is, I have often pitied, in a Winter Night, a Vocal Muſician, and have attributed many of his Trills and Quavers to the Coldneſs of the Weather.

The ſecond Circumſtance which inclined the Lalians to this Cuſtom, was that Muſical Genius which is ſo univerſal among them. Nothing is more frequent in that Country, than to hear a Cobler working to an Opera Tune. You can ſcarce ſee a Porter that has not one Nail much longer than the reſt, which you will find, upon Enquiry, is cheriſhed for ſome Inſtrument. In ſhort, there is not a Labourer, or Handicraft Man, that in the Cool of the Evening does not relieve himſelf with Solo's and Sonnata's.

[149] The Italian fooths his Miſtreſs with a plaintivee Voice, and bewails himſelf in ſuch melting Muſick, that the whole Neighbourhood ſympathizes with him in his Sorrow.

Qualis Populea maerens, Philomela, ſub Umbra
Flet Noctem, Rame (que) ſedens miſerabile Carmen
Integrat, & late moeſtis Loca Quaeſtibus implet.

On the contrary, our honeſt Countrymen have ſo little an Inclination to Muſick, that they ſeldom begin to ſing till they are drunk, which alſo is uſually the Time when they are moſt diſpoſed to ſerenade.

The TATLER. [No 223.
From Saturd. Sept. 9. to Tueſd. Sept. 12. 1710.

For when upon their ungot Heirs,
Th' Entail themſelves and all that's theirs,
What blinder Bargain e'er was driv'n,
Or Wager laid at Six and Seven,
To paſs themſelves away, and turn
Their Children's Tenants e're they're born?
Hud.

I HAVE been very much ſollicited by Clarinda, Flavia, and Lyſetta, to reaſſume my Diſcourſe concerning the Methods of diſpoſing honourably the unmarried Part of the World, and taking off thoſe Bars to it, Jointures and Settlements, which are not only the greateſt Impediments towards entring into that State, but alſo the frequent Cauſes of Diſturſt and Animoſity in it after it is conſummated. I have with very much Attention conſider'd the Caſe; and among all the [150] Obſervations that I have made thro' a long Courſe of Years, I have thought the Coldneſs of Wives to their Husbands, as well as Diſreſpect from Children to Parents, to ariſe from this one Source. This Trade for Minds and Bodies in the Lump, without Regard to either, but as they are accompanied with ſuch Sums of Money, and ſuch Parceis of Land, cannot but produce a Commerce between the Parties concerned ſuitable to the mean Motives upon which they at firſt came together. I have heretofore given an Account, that this Method of making Settlements, was firſt invented by a griping Lawyer, who made Uſe of the covetous Tempers of the Parents of each Side to force Two young People into theſe vile Meaſures of Diffidence, for no other End but to encreaſe the Skins of Parchment, by which they were put into each other's Poſſeſſion out of each other's Power. The Law of our Country has given an ample and generous Proviſion for the Wife, even the Third of the Husband's Eſtate, and left to her good Humour and his Gratitude the Expectation of further Proviſion; but the fantaſtical Method of going further, with relation to their Heirs, has a Foundation in nothing but Pride and Folly: For as all Men wiſh their Children as like themſelves, and as much better as they can poſſibly, it ſeems monſtrous, that we ſhould give out of our ſelves the Opportunities of rewarding and diſcouraging them according to their Deſerts. This wiſe Inſtitution has no more Senſe in it, than if a Man ſhould begin a Deed with, ‘"Whereas no Man living knows how long he ſhall continue to be a reaſonable Creature, or an honeſt Man: And whereas I B. am going to enter in the State of Matrimony with Mrs. D. therefore I ſhall from henceforth make it indifferent to me, whether from this Time forward I ſhall be a Fool or a Knave: And therefore in full and perfect [151] Health of Body, and as ſound Mind, not knowing which of my Children will prove better or worſe, I give to my Firſt-born, be he perverſe, ungrateful, impious, or cruel, the Lump and Bulk of my Eſtate, and leave one Year's Purchaſe only to each of my younger Children, whether they ſhall be brave or beautiful, modeſt or honourable, from the Time of the Date hereof wherein I reſign my Senſes, and hereby promiſe to employ my Judgment no further in the Diſtribution of my Worldly Goods from the Day of the Date hereof, hereby further confeſſing and covenanting, that I am from henceforth married, and dead in Law.'’

There is no Man that is converſant in modern Settlements, but knows this is an exact Tranſlation of what is inſerted in theſe Inſtruments. Men's Paſſions could only make them ſubmit to ſuch Terms; and therefore all unreaſonable Bargains in Marriage ought to be ſet aſide, as well as Deeds extorted from Men under Force or in Priſon, who are altogether as much Maſters of their Actions as he that is poſſeſs'd with a violent Paſſion.

How ſtrangely Men are ſometimes partial to themſelves, appears by the Rapine of him that has a Daughter's Beauty under his Direction. He will make no Scruple of uſing it to force from her Lover as much of his Eſtate as is worth 10000 l. and at the ſame Time, as a Juſtice on the Bench, will ſpare no Pains to get a Man hanged that has taken but a Horſe from him.

It is to be hoped, the Legiſlature will in due Time take this Kind of Robbery into Conſideration, and not ſuffer Men to prey upon each other, when they are about making the moſt ſolemn League, and entring into the ſtricteſt Bonds. The only ſure Remedy is to fix a certain Rate on every Woman's Fortune; one Price for that of a Maid, [152] and another for a Widow: For it is of infinite Advantage, that there ſhould be no Frauds or Uncertainties in the Sale of our Women.

If any Man ſhould exceed the ſettled Rate, he ought to be at Liberty after Seven Years are over, by which Time his Love may be ſuppoſed to abate a little, if it is not founded upon Reaſon, to renounce the Bargain, and be freed from the Settlement upon reſtoring the Portion; as a Youth married under Fourteen Years old may be off if he pleaſes when he comes to that Age, and as a Man is diſcharged from all Bargains but that of Marriage made when he is under Twenty one.

It grives me when I conſider, that theſe Reſtraints upon Matrimony take away the Advantage we ſhould otherwiſe have over other Countries, which are ſunk much by thoſe great Checks upon Propagation, the Convents. It is thought chiefly owing to theſe that Italy and Spain want above half their Complement of People. Were the Price of Wives always fixed and ſettled, it would contribute to filling the Nation more than all the Encouragements that can poſſibly be given to Foreigners to tranſplant themſelves hither.

I therefore, as Cenſor of Britain, till a Law is made, will lay down Rules which ſhall be obſerved with Penalty of degrading all that break them into Pretty Fellows, Smarts, Squibs, Hunting Horns, Drums, and Bagpipes.

The Females that are guilty of breaking my Orders, I ſhall reſpectively pronounce to be Kits, Hornpipes, Dulcimers, and Kettle-Drums. Such Widows as wear the Spoils of one Husband I will bury, if they attempt to rob another.

I ordain, That no Woman ever demand one Shilling to be paid after her Husband's Death, more than the very Sum ſhe brings him, or an Equivalent for it in Land.

[153] That no Settlement be made, in which the Man ſettles on his Children more than the Reverſion of the Jointure, or the Value of it in Money; ſo that at his Death he may in the Whole be bound to pay his Family but double to what he has receiv'd. I would have the eldeſt, as well as the reſt, have his Proviſion out of this.

When Men are not able to come up to thoſe Settlements I have propoſed, I would have them receive ſo much of the Portion only as they can come up to, and the reſt to go to the Woman by Way of Pin-Money, or Separate Maintenance. In this, I think, I determined equally between the Two Sexes.

If any Lawyer varies from theſe Rules, or is above Two Days in drawing a Marriage Settlement, or uſes more Words in it than one Skin of Parchment will contain, or takes above Five Pounds for drawing it, I would have him thrown over the Bar.

Were theſe Rules obſerved, a Woman with a ſmall Fortune, and a great deal of Worth, would be ſure to marry according to her Deſerts, if the Man's Eſtate were to be leſs incumbered in Proportion as her Fortune is leſs than he might have with others.

A Man of a great deal of Merit, and not much Eſtate, might be choſen for his Worth; becauſe it would not be difficult for him to make a Settlement.

The Man that loves a Woman beſt, would not loſe her for not being able to bid ſo much as another, or for not complying with an extravagant Demand.

A fine Woman would no more be ſet up to Auction as ſhe is now. When a Man puts in for her, her Friends or her ſelf take Care to publiſh it; and the Man that was the firſt Bidder is made no other Uſe of but to raiſe the Price. He that [154] loves her, will continue in Waiting as long as ſhe pleaſes, (if her Fortune be thought equal to his) and under Pretence of ſome Failure in the Rent-Roll, or Difficulties in drawing the Settlement, he is put off till a better Bargain is made with another.

All the reſt of the Sex that are not rich or beautiful to the higheſt Degree are plainly Gainers, and would be married ſo faſt, that the leaſt charming of them would ſoon grow Beauties to the Batchelors.

Widows might be eaſily married, if they would not, as they do now, ſet up for diſcreet, only by being mercenary.

The making Matimony cheap and eaſy, would be the greateſt Diſcouragement to Vice: The limiting the Expence of Children would not make Men ill inclined, or afraid of having them in a regular Way; and the Men of Merit would not live unmarried, as they often do now, becauſe the Goodneſs of a Wife cannot be enſured to them; out the Loſs of an Eſtate is certain, and a Man would never have the Affliction of a worthleſs Heir added to that of a bad Wife.

I am the more ſerious, large, and particular on this Subject, becauſe my Lucubrations deſigned for the Encouragement of Virtue, cannot have the deſired Succeſs as long as this Incumbrance of Settlements continues upon Matrimony.

The TATLER. [No 224.
From Tueſday Sept. 12. to Thurſday Sept. 14. 1710.

[155]
Materiam ſuperabat Opus. —
Ovid.

IT is my Cuſtom, in a Dearth of News, to entertain my ſelf with thoſe Collections of Advertiſements that appear at the End of all our publick Prints. Theſe I conſider as Accounts of News from the little World, in the ſame Manner that the foregoing Parts of the Paper are from the great. If in one we hear that a Sovereign Prince is fled from his Capital City, in the other we hear of a Tradeſman who hath ſhut up his Shop, and run away. If in one we find the Victory of a General, in the other we ſee the Deſertion of a private Soldier. I muſt confeſs, I have a certain Weakneſs in my Temper, that is often very much affected by theſe little Domeſtick Occurrences, and have frequently been caught with Tears in my Eyes over a melancholy Advertiſement.

But to conſider this Subject in its moſt ridiculous Lights, Advertiſements are of great Uſe to the Vulgar: Firſt of all, as they are Inſtruments of Ambition. A Man that is by no Means big enough for the Gazette, may eaſily creep into the Advertiſements; by which Means we often ſee an Apothecary in the ſame Paper of News with a Plenipotentiary, or a Running-Footman with an Ambaſſador. An Advertiſement from Pickadilly goes down to Poſterity, with an Article from Madrid; and John Bartlett of Goodman's-Fields is celebrated in the ſame Paper with the Emperor of [156] Germany. Thus the Fable tells us, That the Wren mounted as high as the Eagle, by getting upon his Back.

A Second Uſe which this Sort of Writings have been turned to of late Years, has been the Management of Controverſy, inſomuch that above half the Advertiſements one meets with now-a-Days are purely Polemical. The Inventors of Strops for Razors have written againſt one another this Way for ſeveral Years, and that with great Bitterneſs; as the whole Argument pro and con in the Caſe of the Morning-Gowns is ſtill carried on after the ſame Manner. I need not mention the ſeveral Proprietors of Dr. Anderſon's Pills; nor take Notice of the many Satyrical Works of this Nature ſo frequently publiſhed by Dr. Clark, who has had the Confidence to advertiſe upon that learned Knight, my very worthy Friend, Sir William Read: But I ſhall not interpoſe in their Quarrel; Sir William can give him his own in Advertiſements, that, in the Judgment of the Impartial, are as well penn'd as the Doctor's.

The Third and laſt Uſe of theſe Writings is, to inform the World where they may be furniſhed with almoſt every Thing that is neceſſary for Life. If a Man has Pains in his Head, Cholicks in his Bowels, or Spots in his Clothes, he may here meet with proper Cures and Remedies. If a Man would recover a Wife or a Horſe that is ſtolen or ſtray'd; if he wants new Sermons, Electuaries, Aſſes Milk, or any Thing elſe, either for his Body or his Mind, this is the Place to look for them in.

The great Art in writing Advertiſements, is the finding out a proper Method to catch the Reader's Eye; without which, a good Thing may paſs over unobſerved, or be loſt among Commiſſions of Bankrupt. Aſterisks and Hands were formerly of great Uſe for this Purpoſe. Of late Years, the N. B. has been much in Faſhion; as alſo little Cuts and Figures, the Invention of which we muſt aſcribe [157] to the Author of Spring-Truſſes. I muſt not here omit the blind Italian Character, which being ſcarce legible, always fixes and detains the Eye, and gives the curious Reader ſomething like the Satisfaction of prying into a Secret.

But the great Skill in an Advertiſer is chiefly ſeen in the Style which he makes uſe of. He is to mention the univerſal Eſteem, or general Reputation, of Things that were never heard of. If he is a Phyſician or Aſtrologer, he muſt change his Lodgings frequently, and (tho' he never ſaw any Body in them beſides his own Family) give publick Notice of it, For the Information of the Nobility and Gentry. Since I am thus uſefully employ'd in writing Criticiſms on the Works of theſe diminutive Authors, I muſt not paſs over in Silence an Advertiſement which has lately made its Appearance, and is written altogether in a Ciceronian Manner. It was ſent to me, with Five Shillings, to be inſerted among my Advertiſements; but as it is a Pattern of good Writing in this Way, I ſhall give it a Place in the Body of my Paper.

THE higheſt compounded Spirit of Lavender, the moſt glorious (if the Expreſſion may be uſed) enlivening Scent and Flavour that can poſſibly be, which ſo raptures the Spirits, delights the Guſt, and gives ſuch Airs to the Countenance, as are not to be imagined but by thoſe that have tried it. The meaneſt Sort of the Thing is admired by moſt Gentlemen and Ladies; but this far more, as by far it exceeds it, to the gaining among all a more than common Eſteem. It is ſold (in neat Flint Bottles fit for the Pocket) only at the Golden-Key in Warton's-Court near Holborn-Bars, for 3 s. 6 d. with Directions.

At the ſame Time that I recommend the ſeveral Flowers in which this Spirit of Lavender is wrapped up, (if the Expreſſion may be uſed) I cannot [158] excuſe my Fellow-Labourers for admitting into their Papers ſeveral uncleanly Advertiſements, not at all proper to appear in the Works of polite Writers. Among theſe I muſt reckon the Carminitive Wind expelling Pills. If the Doctor had called them only his Carminitive Pills, he had been as cleanly as one could have wiſhed; but the Second Word entirely deſtroys the Decency of the Firſt. There are other Abſurdities of this Nature ſo very groſs, that I dare not mention them; and ſhall therefore diſmiſs this Subject with a publick Admonition to Michael Parrot, That he do not preſume any more to mention a certain Worm he knows of, which, by the Way, has grown Seven Foot in my Memory; for, if I am not much miſtaken, it is the ſame that was but Nine Foot long about Six Months ago.

By the Remarks I have here made, it plainly appears, that a Collection of Advertiſements is a kind of Miſcellany; the Writers of which, contrary to all Authors, except Men of Quality, give Money to the Bookſellers who publiſh their Copies. The Genius of the Bookſeller is chiefly ſhown in his Method of ranging and digeſting theſe little Tracts. The laſt Paper I took up in my Hands, places them in the following Order:

The TATLER. [No 225.
From Thurſday Sept. 14. to Saturday Sept. 16. 1710.

[159]
— Si quid noviſti rectius iſtis
Candidus imperti, ſi non, his utere mecum.
Hor.

THE Hours which we ſpend in Converſation are the moſt pleaſing of any which we enjoy; yet, methinks, there is very little Care taken to improve our ſelves for the frequent Repetition of them. The common Fault in this Caſe, is that of growing too intimate, and falling into diſpleaſing Familiarities: For it is a very ordinary Thing for Men to make no other Uſe of a cloſe Acquaintance with each other's Affairs, but to teaze one another with unacceptable Alluſions. One would paſs over patiently ſuch as converſe like Animals, and ſalute each other with Bangs on the Shoulder, ſly Raps with Canes, or other robuſt Pleaſantries practiſed by the rural Gentry of this Nation: But even among thoſe who ſhould have more polite Idea's of Things, you ſee a Set of People who invert the Deſign of Converſation, and make frequent Mention of ungrateful Subjects; nay, mention them becauſe they are ungrateful; as if the Perfection of Society were in knowing how to offend on the one Part, and how to bear an Offence on the other. In all Parts of this populous Town you find the merry World made up of an active and a paſſive Companion; one who has good-nature enough to ſuffer all his Friend ſhall think fit to ſay, and one who is reſolved to make the moſt of his Good-humour to ſhow his Parts. In the Trading Part of Mankind, [160] I have ever obſerved the Jeſt went by the Weight of Purſes, and the Ridicule is made up by the Gains which ariſe from it. Thus the Packer allows the Clothier to ſay what he pleaſes, and the Broker has his Countenance ready to laugh with the Merchant, tho' the Abuſe is to fall on himſelf, becauſe he knows that, as a Go-between, he ſhall find his Account in being in the good Graces of a Man of Wealth. Among theſe juſt and punctual People, the richeſt Man is ever the better Jeſter; and they know no ſuch Thing as a Perſon who ſhall pretend to a ſuperior Laugh at a Man, who does not make him Amends by Opportunities of Advantage in another Kind: But among People of a different Way, where the pretended Diſtinction in Company is only what is raiſed from Senſe and Underſtanding, it is very abſurd to carry on a rough Raillery ſo far, as that the whole Diſcourſe ſhould turn upon each others Infirmities, Follies, or Misfortunes.

I was this Evening with a Set of Wags of this Claſs. They appear generally by Two and Two; and what is moſt extraordinary, is, that thoſe very Perſons who are moſt together, appear leaſt of a Mind when joined by other Company. This Evil proceeds from an indiſcreet Familiarity, whereby a Man is allowed to ſay the moſt grating Thing imaginable to another, and it ſhall be accounted Weakneſs to ſhow an Impatience for the Unkindneſs. But this and all other Deviations from the Deſign of pleaſing each other when we meet, are derived from Interlopers in Society, who want Capacity to put in a Stock among regular Companions, and therefore ſupply their Wants by ſtale Hiſtories, ſly Obſervations, and rude Hints, which relate to the Conduct of others. All Cohabitants in general run into this unhappy Fault; Men and their Wives break into Reflections, which are like ſo much Arabick to the reſt of the Company; Siſters and Brothers often [161] make the like Figure from the ſame unjuſt Senſe of the Art of being intimate and familiar. It is often ſaid, ſuch an one cannot ſtand the Mention of ſuch a Circumſtance: If he cannot, I am ſure it is for Want of Diſcourſe, or a worſe Reaſon, that any Companion of his touches upon it.

Familiarity, among the truly Well-bred, never give Authority to treſpaſs upon one another in the moſt minute Circumſtance, but it allows to be kinder than we ought otherwiſe preſume to be. Euſebius has Wit, Humour, and Spirit; but there never was a Man in his Company who wiſhed he had leſs, for he underſtands Familiarity ſo well, that he knows how to make Uſe of it in a Way that neither makes himſelf or his Friend contemptible; but if any one is leſſened by his Freedom, it is he himſelf, who always likes the Place, the Diet, and the Reception, when he is in the Company of his Friends. Equality is the Life of Converſation; and he is as much out who aſſumes to himſelf any Part above another, as he who conſiders himſelf below the reſt of the Society. Familiarity in Inferiors is Saucineſs; in Superiors, Condeſcenſion; neither of which are to have Being among Companions, the very Word implying that they are to be equal. When therefore we have abſtracted the Company from all Conſiderations of their Quality or Fortune, it will immediately appear, that to make it happy and polite, there muſt nothing be ſtarted which ſhall diſcover that our Thoughts run upon any ſuch Diſtinctions. Hence it will ariſe, that Benevolence muſt become the Rule of Society, and he that is moſt obliging, muſt be moſt diverting.

This Way of Talking I am fallen into from the Reflection that I am wherever I go entertained with ſome Abſurdity, Miſtake, Weakneſs, or ill Luck of ſome Man or other, whom not only I, but the Perſon who makes me thoſe Relations has a Value for. It would therefore be a great Benefit [162] to the World, if it could be brought to paſs that no Story ſhould be a taking one, but what was to the Advantage of the Perſon of whom it is related. By this Means, he that is now a Wit in Converſation, would be conſidered as a Spreader of falſe News is in Buſineſs.

But above all, to make a Familiar fit for a Boſom Friend, it is abſolutely neceſſary that we ſhould always be inclined rather to hide than rally each others Infirmities. To ſuffer for a Fault, is a Sort of Attonement; and no Body is concerned for the Offence for which he has made Reparation.

P. S. I have received the following Letter, which rallies me for being witty ſooner than I deſigned; but I have now altered my Reſolution, and intend to be facetious till the Day in October heretofore mentioned, inſtead of beginning for that Day.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

BY your own Reckoning, you came Yeſterday about a Month before the Time you looked your ſelf, much to the Satisfaction of

Your moſt Obliged Humble Servant, Plain Engliſh.

Advices from Madrid of the 8th ſay, the Duke of Anjou, with his Court, and all the Councils, were preparing to leave that Place in a Day or Two, in order to remove to Valladolid. They add, That the Palace was already unfurniſhed, and a Declaration had been publiſhed, importing, That it was abſolutely neceſſary, in the preſent Conjuncture of Affairs, that the Court were abſent for ſome Time from Madrid, but would return [163] thither in Six Weeks. This ſudden Departure is attributed to the Advice, That the Portugueſe Army was in Motion to enter Spain by Braganza, and that his Catholick Majeſty was on the March with a ſtrong Detachment towards Caſtille. Two Thouſand Horſe were arrived at Agreda, and 'tis reported they were to join the reſt of the Body, with the King, and advance to Callaiatud, on their Way to Madrid, whilſt General Staremberg obſerved the Enemy on the Frontier of Navarre. They write from Bayonne, That the Duke of Vendoſme ſet forwards to Spain on the 14th.

The TATLER. [No 226.
From Saturd. Sept. 16. to Tueſday Sept. 19. 1710.

— Juvenis quondam, nunc Faemina Caeneus,
Et Fato in veterem rurſus revoluta Figuram.
Virg.

IT is one of the Deſigns of this Paper to tranſmit to Poſterity an Account of every Thing that is monſtrous in my own Times. For this Reaſon I ſhall here publiſh to the World the Life of a Perſon who was neither Man nor Woman, as written by one of my ingenious Correſpondents, who ſeems to have imitated Plutach in that multifarious Erudition, and thoſe occaſional Differtation, which he has wrought into the Body of his Hiſtory. The Life I am putting out, is that of Margery, alias John Young, commonly known by the Name of Dr. Young, who (as the Town very well knows) was a Woman that practiſed Phyſick in Man's Clothes, and after having [164] had Two Wives and ſeveral Children, died about a Month ſince.

SIR,

I Here make bold to trouble you with a ſhort Account of the famous Dr. Young's Life, which you may call (if you pleaſe) a Second Part of the Farce of the Sham Doctor. This perhaps will not ſeem ſo ſtrange to you, who (if I am not miſtaken) have ſomewhere mentioned with Honour your Siſter Kirleus as a Practitioner both in Phyſick and Aſtrology: But in the common Opinion of Mankind, a She-Quack is altogether as ſtrange and aſtoniſhing a Creature as the Centaur that practis'd Phyſick in the Days of Achilles, or as King Phys in the Rehearſal. Aeſculapius, the great Founder of your Art, was particularly famous for his Beard, as we may conclude from the Behaviour of a Tyrant, who is branded by Heathen Hiſtorians as guilty both of Sacrilege and Blaſphemy, having robbed the Statue of Aeſculapius of a thick buſhy Golden Beard, and then alledged for his Excuſe, That it was a Shame the Son ſhould have a Beard when his Father Apollo had none. This latter Inſtance indeed ſeems ſomething to favour a Female Profeſſor, ſince (as I have been told) the ancient Statues of Apollo are generally made with the Head and Face of a Woman: Nay, I have been credibly informed by thoſe who have ſeen them both, that the famous Apollo in the Belvidera did very much reſemble Dr. Young. Let that be as it will, the Doctor was a Kind of Amazon in Phyſick, that made as great Devaſtations and Slaughters as any of our chief Heroes in the Art, and was as fatal to the Engliſh in theſe our Days, as the famous Jean d' Arc was in thoſe of our Forefathers.

I do not find any Thing remarkable in the Life I am about to write till the Year 1695, at [165] which Time the Doctor, being about Twenty three Years old, was brought to Bed of a Baſtard Child. The Scandal of ſuch a Misfortune gave ſo great Uneaſineſs to pretty Mrs. Peggy, (for that was the Name by which the Doctor was then called) that ſhe left her Family, and followed her Lover to London, with a fixed Reſolution ſome Way or other to recover her loſt Reputation: But inſtead of changing her Life, which one would have expected from ſo good a Diſpoſition of Mind, ſhe took it in her Head to change her Sex. This was ſoon done by the Help of a Sword and a Pair of Breeches. I have Reaſon to believe, that her firſt Deſign was to turn Man-Midwife, having her ſelf had ſome Experience in thoſe Affairs: But thinking this too narrow a Foundation for her future Fortune, ſhe at length bought her a Gold Button Coat, and ſet up for a Phyſician. Thus we ſee the ſame fatal Miſcarriage in her Youth made Mrs. Young a Doctor, that formerly made one of the ſame Sex a Pope.

The Doctor ſucceeded very well in his Buſineſs at firſt, but very often met with Accidents that diſquieted him. As he wanted that deep magiſterial Voice which gives Authority to a Preſcription, and is abſolutely neceſſary for the right Pronouncing of thoſe Words, Take theſe Pills, he unfortunately got the Nickname of the Squeaking Doctor. If this Circumſtance alarmed the Doctor, there was another that gave him no ſmall Diſquiet, and very much diminiſhed his Gains. In ſhort, he found himſelf run down as a ſuperficial prating Quack, in all Families that had at the Head of them a cautious Father, or a jealous Husband. Theſe would often complain among one another, that they did not like ſuch a Smock-faced Phyſician; though in Truth had they known how juſtly he deſerved that Name, they would rather have [166] favoured his Practice, than have apprehended any Thing from it.

Such were the Motives that determined Mrs. Young to change her Condition, and take in Marriage a virtuous young Woman, who lived with her in good Reputation, and made her the Father of a very pretty Girl. But this Part of her Happineſs was ſoon after deſtroyed by a Diſtemper which was too hard for our Phyſician, and carried off his firſt Wife. The Doctor had not been a Widow long, before he married his Second Lady, with whom alſo he lived in very good Underſtanding. It ſo happened, that the Doctor was with Child at the ſame Time that his Lady was; but the little ones coming both together, they paſſed for Twins. The Doctor having entirely eſtabliſhed the Reputation of his Manhood, eſpecially by the Birth of the Boy of whom he had been lately delivered, and who very much reſembles him, grew into good Buſineſs, and was particularly famous for the Cure of Venereal Diſtempers; but would have had much more Practice among his own Sex, had not ſome of them been ſo unreaſonable as to demand certain Proofs of their Cure, which the Doctor was not able to give them. The florid blooming Look, which gave the Doctor ſome Uneaſineſs at firſt, inſtead of betraying his Perſon, only recommended his Phyſick. Upon this Occaſion I cannot forbear mentioning what I thought a very agreeable Surprize in one of Moliere's Plays, where a young Woman applies her ſelf to a ſick Perſon in the Habit of a Quack, and ſpeaks to her Patient, who was ſomething ſcandalized at the Youth of his Phyſician, to the following Purpoſe—I begun to practiſe in the Reign of Francis I. and am now in the Hundred and fiftieth Year of my Age; but, by the Vertue of my Medicaments, have maintained my ſelf in the [167] ſame Beauty and Freſhneſs I had at Fifteen. For this Reaſon Hippocrates lays it down as a Rule, That a Student in Phyſick ſhould have a ſound Conſtitution, and a healthy Look; which indeed ſeem as neceſſary Qualifications for a Phyſician, as a good Life, and virtuous Behaviour, for a Divine. But to return to our Subject. About Two Years ago the Doctor was very much afflicted with the Vapours, which grew upon him to ſuch a Degree, that about ſix Weeks ſince they made an End of him. His Death diſcovered the Diſguiſe he had acted under, and brought him back again to his former Sex. 'Tis ſaid, that at his Burial the Pall was held up by Six Women of ſome Faſhion. The Doctor left behind him a Widow, and Two Fatherleſs Children, if they may be called ſo, beſides the little Boy before-mentioned. In relation to whom we may ſay of the Doctor, as the good old Ballad about The Children in the Wood ſays of the Unnatural Unkle, that he was Father and Mother both in one. Theſe are all the Circumſtances that I could learn of Doctor Young's Life, which might have given Occaſion to many obſcene Fictions: But as I know thoſe would never have gained a Place in your Paper, I have not troubled you with any Impertinence of that Nature; having ſtuck to the Truth very ſcrupulouſly, as I always do when I ſubſcribe my ſelf,

SIR,
Your, &c.

I ſhall add, as a Poſtcript to this Letter, that I am informed, the famous Saltero, who ſells Coffee in his Muſaeum at Chelſea, has by him a Curioſity which helped the Doctor to carry on his Impoſture, and will give great Satisfaction to the curious Inquirer.

The TATLER. [No 227
From Tueſd. Sept. 19. to Thurſd. Sept. 21. 1710.

[168]
Omnibus invideas, Zoile, nemo tibi.
Martial.

IT is the Buſineſs of Reaſon and Philoſophy to ſooth and allay the Paſſions of the Mind, or turn them to a vigorous Proſecution of what is dictated by the Underſtanding. In order to this good End, I would keep a watchful Eye upon the growing Inclinations of Youth, and be particularly careful to prevent their indulging themſelves in ſuch Sentiments as may imbitter their more advanced Age. I have now under Cure a young Gentleman, who lately communicated to me, that he was of all Men living the moſt miſerably envious. I deſired the Circumſtances of his Diſtemper; upon which, with a Sigh that would have moved the moſt inhumane Breaſt, ‘'Mr. Bickerſtaff, ſaid he, I am Nephew to a Gentleman of a very great Eſtate, to whoſe Favour I have a Couſin that has equal Pretenſions with my ſelf. This Kinſman of mine is a young Man of the higheſt Merit imaginable, and has a Mind ſo tender, and ſo generous, that I can obſerve he returns my Envy with Pity. He makes me upon all Occaſions the moſt obliging Condeſcenſions: And I cannot but take Notice of the Concern he is in to ſee my Life blaſted with this racking Paſſion, though it is againſt himſelf. In the Preſence of my Unkle, when I am in the Room, he never ſpeaks ſo well as he is capable of, but always lowers his Talents and Accompliſhments out of Regard to me. [169] What I beg of you, dear Sir, is to inſtruct me how to love him, as I know he does me: And I beſeech you, if poſſible, to ſet my Heart right, that it may no longer be tormented where it ſhould be pleaſed, or hate a Man whom I cannot but approve.’

The Patient gave me this Account with ſuch Candour and Openneſs, that I conceived imme [...]iate Hopes of his Cure; becauſe in Diſeaſes of [...]he Mind, the Perſon affected is half recovered [...]hen he is ſenſible of his Diſtemper. Sir, ſaid I, [...]he Acknowledgment of your Kinſman's Merit is [...] very hopeful Symptom; for it is the Nature of [...]erſons afflicted with this Evil, when they are in [...]urable, to pretend a Contempt of the Perſon [...]nvied, if they are taxed with that Weakneſs. A [...]an who is really envious, will not allow he is [...]o; but upon ſuch an Accuſation is tormented [...]ith the Reflection, that to envy a Man is to al [...]ow him your Superior. But in your Caſe, when [...]ou examine the Bottom of your Heart, I am apt [...]o think it is Avarice, which you miſtake for En [...]y. Were it not that you have both Expectations [...]rom the ſame Man, you would look upon your [...]ouſin's Accompliſhments with Pleaſure. You [...]hat now conſider him as an Obſtacle to your [...]ntereſt, would then behold him as an Ornament [...]o your Family. I obſerved my Patient upon this [...]ccaſion recover himſelf in ſome Meaſure; and [...]e owned to me, that he hoped it was as I ima [...]ined; for that in all Places but where he was his [...]ival, he had Pleaſure in his Company. This [...]as the firſt Diſcourſe we had upon this Malady; [...]nd I do not doubt but, after Two or Three [...]ore, I ſhall by juſt Degrees ſoften his Envy into [...]mulation.

Such an Envy as I have here deſcribed, may [...]oſſibly creep into an ingenuous Mind; but the [...]nvy which makes a Man uneaſy to himſelf and [...]hers, is a certain Diſtortion and Perverſeneſs of [170] Temper, that renders him unwilling to be pleas'd with any Thing without him that has either Beauty or Perfection in it. I look upon it as a Diſtemper in the Mind, (which I know no Moraliſt that has deſcribed in this Light) when a Man cannot diſcern any Thing which another is Maſter of that is agreeable. For which Reaſon, I look upon the good-natured Man to be endowed with a certain diſcerning Faculty which the Envious are altogether deprived of. Shallow Wits, ſuperficial Criticks, and conceited Fops, are with me ſo many blind Men in reſpect of Excellencies. They can behold nothing but Faults and Blemiſhes, and indeed ſee nothing that is worth ſeeing. Show them a Poem, it is Stuff; a Picture, it is Daubing. They find nothing in Architecture that is not irregular, or in Muſick that is not out of Tune. Theſe Men ſhould conſider, that it is their Envy which deforms every Thing, and that the Uglineſs is not in the Object, but in the Eye. And as for nobler Minds, whoſe Merits are either not diſcovered, or are miſrepreſented by the envious Part of Mankind, they ſhould rather conſider their Defamers with Pity than Indignation. A Man cannot have an Idea of Perfection in another, which he was never ſenſible of in himſelf. Mr. Lock tells us, That upon asking a blind Man, What he thought Scarlet was? He anſwered, That he believed it was like the Sound of a Trumpet. He was forced to form his Conceptions of Idea's which he had not, by thoſe which he had. In the ſame Manner, ask an envious Man, What he thinks of Virtue? He will call it Deſign: What of Goodnature? And he will term it Dulneſs. The Difference is, That as the Perſon before-mentioned was born blind, your envious Men have contracted the Diſtemper themſelves, and are troubled with a Sort of an acquired Blindneſs. Thus the Devil in Milton, tho' made an Angel of Light, could ſee nothing to pleaſe him even in Paradiſe, [171] and hated our Firſt Parents, though in their State of Innocence.

The TATLER. [No 228.
From Thurſday Sept. 21. to Saturday Sept. 23. 1710.

— Veniet Manus, Auxilio quae
Sit mihi —
Hor.

A Man of Buſineſs who makes a publick Entertainment, may ſometimes leave his Gueſts, and beg them to divert themſelves as well as they can till his Return. I ſhall here make uſe of the ſame Privilege, (being engaged in Matters of ſome Importance relating to the Family of the Bickerſtaffs) and muſt deſire my Readers to entertain one another till I can have Leiſure to attend them. I have therefore furniſhed out this Paper, as I have done ſome few others, with Letters of my ingenious Correſpondents, which I have Reaſon to believe will pleaſe the Publick, as much as my own more elaborate Lucubrations.

SIR,

I Have long been of the Number of your Admirers, and take this Opportunity of telling you ſo. I know not why a Man ſo famed for Aſtrological Obſervations may not be alſo a good Caſuiſt, upon which Preſumption, 'tis I ask your Advice in an Affair that at preſent puzzles quite that ſlender Stock of Divinity I am Maſter of. I have now been ſome Time in Holy Orders, and Fellow of a certain College [172] in one of the Univerſities; but weary of that unactive Life, I reſolve to be doing Good in my Generation. A worthy Gentleman has lately offer'd me a fat Rectory, but means, I perceive, his Kinſwoman ſhould have the Benefit of the Clergy. I am a Novice in the World, and confeſs, it ſtartles me how the Body of Mrs. Abigail can be annexed to Cure of Souls. Sir, would you give us in one of your Tatlers the Original and Progreſs of Smock-Simony, and ſhew us, that where the Laws are ſilent, Men's Conſciences ought to be ſo too; you could not more oblige our Fraternity of young Divines, and among the reſt,

Your humble Servant, High-Church

I am very proud of having a Gentleman of this Name for my Admirer, and may ſome Time or other write ſuch a Treatiſe as he mentions. In the mean Time I do not ſee why our Clergy, who are very frequently Men of good Families, ſhould be reproached, if any of them chance to eſpouſe a Hand-Maid with a Rectory in Commendam, ſince the beſt of our Peers have often joined themſelves to the Daughters of very ordinary Tradeſmen upon the ſame valuable Conſiderations.

Honoured Son,

I Have now finiſhed my Almanack for the next Year, in all the Parts of it except that which concerns the Weather; and you having ſhewn your ſelf, by ſome of your late Works, more Weatherwiſe than any of our modern Aſtrologers, I moſt humbly preſume to trouble you upon this Head. You know very well, that in our ordinary Almanacks the Wind and Rain, Snow and Hail, Clouds and Sun-ſhine, have their proper Seaſons, and come up as regularly [173] in their ſeveral Months as the Fruits and Plants of the Earth. As for my own Part, I freely own to you, that I generally ſteal my Weather out of ſome antiquated Almanack, that foretold it ſeveral Years ago. Now, Sir, what I humbly beg of you is, that you would lend me your State Weather-Glaſs, in order to fill up this vacant Column in my Works. This, I know, would ſell my Almanack beyond any other, and make me a richer Man than Poor Robin. If you will not grant me this Favour, I muſt have Recourſe to my old Method, and will copy after an Almanack which I have by me, and which I think was made for the Year when the great Storm was. I am,

SIR,
The moſt humble of Your Admirers, T. Philomath.

This Gentleman does not conſider, what a ſtrange Appearance his Almanack would make to the Ignorant, ſhould he tranſpoſe his Weather, as he muſt do, did he follow the Dictates of my Glaſs. What would the World ſay to ſee Summers filled with Clouds and Storms, and Winters with Calms and Sun-ſhine, according to the Variations of the Weather, as they might accidentally appear in a State Barometer? But let that be as it will, I ſhall apply my own Invention to my own Uſe; and if I do not make my Fortune by it, it will be my own Fault.

The next Letter comes to me from another Self-intereſſed Solicitor.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Am going to ſet up for a Scrivener, and have thought of a Project which may turn both to your Account and mine. It came into my [174] Head upon reading that learned and uſeful Paper of yours concerning Advertiſements. You muſt underſtand, I have made my ſelf Maſter in the whole Art of Advertiſing, both as to the Style and the Letter. Now if you and I could ſo manage it, that no Body ſhould write Advertiſements beſides my ſelf, or print them any where but in your Paper, we might both of us get Eſtates in a little Time. For this End I would likewiſe propoſe, that you ſhould enlarge the Deſign of Advertiſements, and have ſent you Two or Three Samples of my Work in this Kind, which I have made for particular Friends, and intend to open Shop with. The Firſt is for a Gentleman, who would willingly marry, if he could find a Wife to his Liking; the Second is for a poor Whig, who is lately turned out of his Poſt; and the Third for a Perſon of a contrary Party, who is willing to get into one.

WHereas A. B. next Door to the Peſtle and Mortar, being about 30 Years old, of a ſpare Make, with dark-coloured Hair, bright Eye, and a long Noſe, has Occaſion for a good-humour'd, tall, fair, young Woman, of about 3000 l. Fortune: Theſe are to give Notice, That if any ſuch young Woman has a Mind to diſpoſe of her ſelf in Marriage to ſuch a Perſon as the abovementioned, ſhe may be provided with a Husband, a Coach and Horſes, and a proportionable Settlement.

C. D. deſigning to quit his Place, has great Quantities of Paper, Parchment, Ink, Wax, and Wafers to diſpoſe of, which will be ſold at very reaſonable Rates.

E. F. a Perſon of good Behaviour, Six Foot high, of a black Complexion and ſound Principles, wants an Employ. He is an excellent Penman and Accomptant, and ſpeaks French.

The TATLER. [No 229.
From Saturday Sept. 23. to Tueſday Sept. 26. 1710.

[175]
Queſitam Meritis ſume Superbiam.
Hor.

THE whole Creation preys upon it ſelf: Every living Creature is inhabited. A Flea has a Thouſand inviſible Inſects that teaze him as he jumps from Place to Place, and revenge our Quarrels upon him. A very ordinary Microſcope ſhows us, that a Louſe is it ſelf a very louſy Creature. A Whale, beſides thoſe Seas and Oceans in the ſeveral Veſſels of his Body, which are filled with innumerable Shoals of little Animals, carries about it a whole World of Inhabitants; inſomuch that, if we believe the Calculations ſome have made, there are more living Creatures which are too ſmall for the naked Eye to behold about the Leviathan, than there are of viſible Creatures upon the Face of the whole Earth. Thus every nobler Creature is as it were the Baſis and Support of Multitudes that are his Inferiors.

This Conſideration very much comforts me, when I think on thoſe numberleſs Vermin that feed upon this Paper, and find their Suſtenance out of it: I mean, the ſmall Wits and Scribble [...] that every Day turn a Penny by nibbling at [...] Lucubrations. This has been ſo advantageou [...] [...] this little Species of Writers, that, if they [...] me Juſtice, I may expect to have my Statue [...] [176] in Grub-ſtreet, as being a common Benefactor to that Quarter.

They ſay, when a Fox is very much troubled with Fleas, he goes into the next Pool with a little Lock of Wool in his Mouth, and keeps his Body under Water till the Vermin get into it, after which he quits the Wool, and diving, leaves his Tormentors to ſhift for themſelves, and get their Livelihood where they can. I would have theſe Gentlemen take Care that I do not ſerve them after the ſame Manner; for though I have hitherto kept my Temper pretty well, it is not impoſſible but I may ſome Time or other diſappear; and what will then become of them? Should I lay down my Paper, What a Famine would there be among the Hawkers, Printers, Bookſellers, and Authors? It would be like Dr. B—s's dropping his Cloak, with the whole Congregation hanging upon the Skirts of it. To enumerate ſome of theſe my doughty Antagoniſts, I was threatened to be anſwered Weekly Tit for Tat: I was undermined by the Whiſperer, haunted by Tom. Brown's Ghoſt, ſcolded at by a Female Tatler, and ſlandered by another of the ſame Character, under the Title of Atalantis. I have been annotated, retattled, examined, and condoled: But it being my ſtanding Maxim never to ſpeak ill of the Dead, I ſhall let theſe Authors reſt in Peace, and take great Pleaſure in thinking that I have ſometimes been the Means of their getting a Belly full. When I ſee my ſelf thus ſurrounded by ſuch formidable Enemies, I often think of the Knight of the Red Croſs in Spencer's [...] of Error, who after he has cut off the Dra [...]'s Head, and left it wallowing in a Flood of [...] ſees a Thouſand monſtrous Reptiles making [...] Attempts upon him, one with many Heads, [...] with none, and all of them without [...]

[177]
The ſame ſo ſore annoyed has the Knight,
That well nigh choaked with the deadly Stink,
His Forces fail, ne can no longer fight;
Whoſe Courage when the Fiend perceived to ſhrink,
She poured forth out of her Helliſh Sink
Her fruitful curſed Spawn of Serpents ſmall,
Deformed Monſters, foul, and black as Ink;
Which ſwarming all about his Legs did crawl,
And him encombred ſore, but could not hurt at all.
As gentle Shepherd in ſweet Even-tide,
When ruddy Phoebus gins to welk in Weſt,
High on an Hill, his Flock to viewen wide,
Marks which do bite their haſty Supper beſt;
A Cloud of combrous Gnats do him moleſt,
All ſtriving to infix their feeble Stings
That from their Noyance he no where can reſt;
But with his clowniſh Hands their tender Wings
He bruſheth oft, and oft doth mar their Murmurings.

If ever I ſhould want ſuch a Fry of little Authors to attend me, I ſhall think my Paper in a very decaying Condition. They are like Ivy about an Oak, which adorns the Tree at the ſame Time that it eats into it; or like a great Man's Equipage, that do Honour to the Perſon on whom they feed. For my Part, when I ſee my ſelf thus attacked, I do not conſider my Antagoniſts as malicious, but hungry, and therefore am reſolved never to take any Notice of them.

As for thoſe who detract from my Labours without being prompted to it by an empty Stomach, in Return to their Cenſures I ſhall take Pains to excel, and never fail to perſwade my ſelf, that their Enmity is nothing but their E [...] or Ignorance.

Give me Leave to conclude, like an old [...] and a Moraliſt, with a Fable:

The Owls, Bats, and ſeveral other B [...] [...] Night, were one Day got together in [...] [178] Shade, where they abuſed their Neighbours in a very ſociable Manner. Their Satyr at laſt fell upon the Sun, whom they all agreed to be very troubleſome, impertinent, and inquiſitive. Upon which the Sun, who overheard them, ſpoke to them after this Manner: Gentlemen, I wonder how you dare abuſe one that you know could in an Inſtant ſcorch you up, and burn every Mother's Son of you: But the only Anſwer I ſhall give you, or the Revenge I ſhall take of you, is, to ſhine on.

The TATLER. [No 230.
From Tueſd. Sept. 26. to Thurſd. Sept. 28. 1710.

THE following Letter has laid before me many great and manifeſt Evils in the World of Letters which I had overlooked; but they open to me a very buſy Scene, and it will require no ſmall Care and Application to amend Errors which are become ſo univerſal. The Affectation of Politeneſs is expoſed in this Epiſtle with a great deal of Wit and Diſcernment; ſo that whatever Diſcourſes I may fall into hereafter upon the Subjects the Writer treats of, I ſhall at preſent lay the Matter before the World without the leaſt Alteration from the Words of my Correſpondent.

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq

[...]IR,

[...]ere are ſome Abuſes among us of great Con [...]quence, the Reformation of which is pro [...] [...]our Province; though as far as I have been [...]ant in your Papers, you have not yet conſidered [179] them. Theſe are the deplorable Ignorance that for ſome Years hath reigned among our Engliſh Writers, the great Depravity of our Taſt, and the continual Corruption of our Style. I ſay nothing here of thoſe who handle particular Sciences, Divinity, Law, Phyſick, and the like; I mean the Traders in Hiſtory and Politicks, and the Belles Lettres; together with thoſe by whom Books are not Tranſlated, but (as the common Expreſſions are) Done out of French, Latin, or other Language, and Made Engliſh. I cannot but obſerve to you, that till of late Years, a Grubſtreet Book was always bound in Sheep-skin, with ſuitable Print and Paper, the Price never above a Shilling, and taken off wholly by common Tradeſmen or Country Pedlars; but now they appear in all Sizes and Shapes, and in all Places: They are handed about from Lap-fulls in every Coffee-houſe to Perſons of Quality; are ſhewn in Weſtminſter-Hall and the Court of Requeſts. You may ſee them gilt and in Royal Paper of Five or Six Hundred Pages, and rated accordingly. I would engage to furniſh you with a Catalogue of Engliſh Books publiſhed within the Compaſs of Seven Years paſt, which at the firſt Hand would coſt you a Hundred Pounds, wherein you ſhall not be able to find Ten Lines together of common Grammar or common Senſe.

Theſe Two Evils, Ignorance and Want of Taſt, have produced a Third; I mean the continual Corruption of our Engliſh Tongue, which, without ſome timely Remedy, will ſuffer more by th [...] falſe Refinements of Twenty Years paſt, tha [...] [...] hath been improved in the foregoing Hu [...] And this is what I deſign chiefly to [...] upon, leaving the former Evils to your A [...] verſion.

But inſtead of giving you a Liſt of [...] Refinements crept into our Language [...] ſend you the Copy of a Letter I recei [...] [...] [180] Time ago from a moſt accompliſhed Perſon in this Way of Writing; upon which I ſhall make ſome Remarks. It is in theſe Terms:

SIR,

I Cou'd n't get the Things you ſent for all about Town—I thôt to ha' come down my ſelf, and then I'd h' bôt 'um; but I ha'n't don't, and I believe I can't d't, that's Pozz—Tom begins to gi'mſelf Airs, becauſe he's going with the Plenipo's—'Tis ſaid, the French King will bamboozl' us agen, which cauſes many Speculations. The Jacks and others of that Kidney are very uppiſh, and alert upon't, as you may ſee by their Phizz's—Will Hazzard has got the Hipps, having loſt to the Tune of Five Hundr'd Pound, thô he underſtands Play very well, no body better. He has promis't me upon Rep, to leave off Play; but you know 'tis a Weakneſs he's too apt to give into, thô he has as much Wit as any Man, no body more. He has lain incog ever ſince—The Mob's very quiet with us now—I believe you thôt I banter'd you in my laſt like a Country Put—I ſha'n't leave Town this Month, &c.

This Letter is in every Point an admirable Pattern of the preſent polite Way of Writing, nor is it of leſs Authority for being an Epiſtle: You may gather every Flower in it, with a Thouſand more of equal Sweetneſs, from the Books, Pam [...]lets, and ſingle Papers, offered us every Day in [...] Coffee-houſes: And theſe are the Beauties in [...]ced to ſupply the Want of Wit, Senſe, Hu [...] and Learning, which formerly were look [...] [...]n as Qualifications for a Writer. If a [...] Wit, who died Forty Years ago, were [...] [...]om the Grave on Purpoſe. How would [...] [...]le to read this Letter? And after he had [...] [...]ugh that Difficulty, how would he be [181] able to underſtand it? The firſt Thing that ſtrikes your Eye, is the Breaks at the End of almoſt every Sentence, of which I know not the Uſe, only that it is a Refinement, and very frequently practiſed. Then you will obſerve the Abbreviations and Eliſions, by which Conſonants of moſt obdurate Sound are joined together, without one ſoftening Vowel to intervene; and all this only to make one Syllable of Two, directly contrary to the Example of the Greeks and Romans, altogether of the Gothick Strain, and a natural Tendency towards relapſing into Barbarity, which delights in Monoſyllables, and uniting of Mute Conſonants, as it is obſervable in all the Northern Languages. And this is ſtill more viſible in the next Refinement, which conſiſts in pronouncing the firſt Syllable in a Word that has many, and diſmiſſing the reſt; ſuch as Phizz, Hipps, Mobb, Pozz, Rep, and many more, when we are already overloaded with Monoſyllables, which are the Diſgrace of our Language. Thus we cram one Syllable, and cut off the reſt, as the Owl fattened her Mice after ſhe had bit off their Legs, to prevent them from running away; and if ours be the ſame Reaſon for maiming our Words, it will certainly anſwer the End, for I am ſure no other Nation will deſire to borrow them. Some Words are hitherto but fairly ſplit, and therefore only in their Way to Perfection; as Incog, and Plenipo: But in a ſhort Time, 'tis to be hoped, they will be further dock'd to Inc. and Plen. This Reflection has made me of late Years very impatient for a Peace, which I believe would ſave the Lives of many brave Words, as well as Men. The War has introduced abundance of Polyſyllables, which will never be able to live many more Campaigns. Speculations, Operations, Preliminaries, Ambaſſadors, Palliſadoes, Communication, Circumvallation, Battalions, as numerous as they are, if they attack us too [182] frequently in our Coffee-houſes, we ſhall certainly put them to Flight, and cut off the Rear.

The Third Refinement obſervable in the Letter I ſend you, conſiſts in the Choice of certain Words invented by ſome pretty Fellows, ſuch as Banter, Bamboozle, Country Put, and Kidney, as it is there applied, ſome of which are now ſtruggling for the Vogue, and others are in Poſſeſſion of it. I have done my utmoſt for ſome Years paſt to ſtop the Progreſs of Mobb and Banter, but have been plainly born down by Numbers, and betrayed by thoſe who promiſed to aſſiſt me.

In the laſt Place, you are to take Notice of certain choice Phraſes ſcattered through the Letter, ſome of them tolerable enough, till they were worn to Rags by ſervile Imitators. You might eaſily find them, though they were not in a different Print, and therefore I need not diſturb them.

Theſe are the falſe Refinements in our Style which you ought to correct: Firſt, by Argument and fair Means; but if thoſe fail, I think you are to make Uſe of your Authority as Cenſor, and by an Annual Index Expurgatorius expunge all Words and Phraſes that are offenſive to good Senſe, and condemn thoſe barbarous Mutilations of Vowels and Syllables. In this laſt Point, the uſual Pretence is, That they ſpell as they ſpeak: A noble Standard for Language! To depend upon the Caprice of every Coxcomb, who becauſe Words are the Cloathing of our Thoughts, cuts them out and ſhapes them as he pleaſes, and changes them oftner than his Dreſs. I believe all reaſonable People would be content that ſuch Refiners were more ſparing in their Words, and liberal in their Syllables: And upon this Head, I ſhould be glad you would beſtow ſome Advice upon ſeveral young Readers in our Churches, who coming up from the Univerſity full fraight [183] with Admiration of our Town Politeneſs, will needs correct the Style of their Prayer-Books. In reading the Abſolution, they are very careful to ſay Pardons and Abſolves; and in the Prayer for the Royal Family, it muſt be endue'um, enrich'um, proſper'um, and bring'um. Then in their Sermons they uſe all the modern Terms of Art, Sham, Banter, Mob, Bubble, Bully, Cutting, Shuffling, and Palming; all which, and many more of the like Stamp, as I have heard them often in the Pulpit from ſuch young Sophiſters, ſo I have read them in ſome of thoſe Sermons that have made moſt Noiſe of late. The Deſign, it ſeems, is to avoid the dreadful Imputation of Pedantry; to ſhew us, that they know the Town, underſtand Men and Manners, and have not been poring upon old unfaſhionable Books in the Univerſity.

I ſhould be glad to ſee you the Inſtrument of introducing into our Style that Simplicity which is the beſt and trueſt Ornament of moſt Things in Life, which the politer Ages always aimed at in their Building and Dreſs, (Simplex Munditiis) as well as their Productions of Wit. 'Tis manifeſt, that all new affected Modes of Speech, whether borrowed from the Court, the Town, or the Theatre, are the firſt periſhing Parts in any Language; and, as I could prove by many Hundred Inſtances, have been ſo in ours. The Writings of Hooker, who was a Country Clergyman, and of Parſons the Jeſuit, both in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, are in a Style that, with very few Allowances, would not offend any preſent Reader; much more clear and intelligible than thoſe of Sir H. Wootton, Sir Rob. Naunton, Osborn, Daniel the Hiſtorian, and ſeveral others who writ later; but being Men of the Court, and affecting the Phraſes then in Faſhion, they are often either not to be underſtood, or appear perfectly ridiculous.

[184] What Remedies are to be applied to theſe Evils, I have not Room to conſider, having, I fear, already taken up moſt of your Paper. Beſides, I think it is our Office only to repreſent Abuſes, and yours to redreſs them. I am with great Reſpect,

SIR,
Your, &c.

The TATLER. [No 231.
From Thurſd. Sept 28. to Saturd. Sept. 30. 1710.

Principiis obſta —

THere are very many ill Habits that might with much Eaſe have been prevented, which, after we have indulged our ſelves in them, become incorrigible. We have a ſort of Proverbial Expreſſion, of taking a Woman down in her Wedding Shoes, if you would bring her to Reaſon. An early Behaviour of this Sort, had a very remarkable good Effect in a Family wherein I was ſeveral Years an intimate Acquaintance.

A Gentleman in Lincoluſhire had Four Daughters, Three of which were early married very happily; but the Fourth, though no Way inferior to any of her Siſters, either in Perſon or Accompliſhments, had from her Infancy diſcovered ſo imperious a Temper, (uſually called a High Spirit) that it continually made great Uneaſineſs in the Family, became her known Character in the Neighbourhood, and deterred all her Lovers from declaring themſelves. However, in Proceſs of Time, a Gentleman of a plentiful Fortune and [185] long Acquaintance, having obſerved that Quickneſs of Spirit to be her only Fault, made his Addreſſes, and obtained her Conſent in due Form. The Lawyers finiſhed the Writings, (in which, by the Way, there was no Pin-Money) and they were married. After a decent Time ſpent in the Father's Houſe, the Bridegroom went to prepare his Seat for her Reception. During the whole Courſe of his Courtſhip, though a Man of the moſt equal Temper, he had artificially lamented to her, that he was the moſt paſſionate Creature breathing. By this one Intimation, he at once made her underſtand Warmth of Temper to be what he ought to pardon in her, as well as that he alarmed her againſt that Conſtitution in himſelf. She at the ſame Time thought her ſelf highly obliged by the compoſed Behaviour which he maintained in her Preſence. Thus far he with great Succeſs ſoothed her from being guilty of Violences, and ſtill reſolved to give her ſuch a terrible Apprehenſion of his fiery Spirit, that ſhe ſhould never dream of giving Way to her own. He returned on the Day appointed for carrying her Home; but inſtead of a Coach and Six Horſes, together with the gay Equipage ſuitable to the Occaſion, he appeared without a Servant, mounted on the Skeleton of a Horſe which his Huntſman had the Day before brought in to feaſt his Dogs on the Arrival of their new Miſtreſs, with a Pillion fixed behind, and a Caſe of Piſtols before him, attended only by a Favourite Hound. Thus equipped, he in a very obliging (but ſomewhat poſitive) Manner deſired his Lady to ſeat her ſelf on the Cuſhion; which done, away they crawled. The Road being obſtructed by a Gate, the Dog was commanded to open it: The poor Cur looked up and wagged his Tail; but the Maſter, to ſhew the Impatience of his Temper, drew a Piſtol and ſhot him dead. He had no ſooner done it, but he [186] fell into a Thouſand Apologies for his unhappy Raſhneſs, and begged as many Pardons for his Exceſſes before one for whom he had ſo profound a Reſpect. Soon after their Steed ſtumbled, but with ſome Difficulty recovered: However, the Bridegroom took Occaſion to ſwear, if he frighted his Wife ſo again, he would run him through: And alas! the poor Animal being now almoſt tired, made a ſecond Trip; immediately on which the careful Husband alights, and with great Ceremony firſt takes off his Lady, then the Accoutrements, draws his Sword, and ſaves the Huntſman the Trouble of killing him: Then ſays to his Wife, Child, prithee take up the Saddle; which ſhe readily did, and tugged it Home, where they found all Things in the greateſt Order, ſuitable to their Fortune and the preſent Occaſion. Some Time after the Father of the Lady gave an Entertainment to all his Daughters and their Husbands, where, when the Wives were retired, and the Gentleman paſſing a Toaſt about, our laſt married Man took Occaſion to obſerve to the reſt of his Brethren, how much, to his great Satisfaction, he found the World miſtaken as to the Temper of his Lady, for that ſhe was the moſt meek and humble Woman breathing. The Applauſe was received with a loud Laugh: But as a Tryal which of them would appear the moſt Maſter at Home, he propoſed they ſhould all by Turns ſend for their Wives down to them. A Servant was diſpatched, and Anſwer was made by one, Tell him I will come by and by; another, That ſhe would come when the Cards were out of her Hand; and ſo on. But no ſooner was her Husband's Deſire whiſpered in the Ear of our laſt married Lady, but the Cards were clapped on the Table, and down ſhe comes with, My Dear, would you ſpeak with me? He receives her in his Arms, and after repeated Careſſes tells her [187] the Experiment, confeſſes his good Nature, and aſſures her That ſince ſhe could now command her, Temper, he would no longer diſguiſe his own.

I received the following Letter, with a Dozen of Wine, and cannot but do Juſtice to the Liquor, and give my Teſtimony; That I have tried it upon ſeveral of my Acquaintance, who were given to impertinent Abbreviations, with great Succeſs.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Send you by this Bearer, and not per Bearer, a Dozen of that Claret which is to be ſold at Garraway's Coffee-houſe on Thurſday the Fifth of October next. I can aſſure you, I have found by Experience the Efficacy of ic, in amending a Fault you complain of in your laſt. The very firſt Draught of it has ſome Effect upon the Speech of the Drinker, and reſtores all the Letters taken away by the Eliſions ſo juſtly complained of. Will Hazzard was cured of his Hypochondria by Three Glaſſes; and the Gentleman who gave you an Account of his late Indiſpoſition, has in publick Company, after the Firſt Quart, ſpoke every Syllable of the Word Plenipotentiary.

Your, &c.

The TATLER. [No 232.
From Saturd. Sept. 30. to Tueſd. Octob. 3. 1710.

I Have received the following Letter from my unfortunate old Acquaintance the Upholſterer, who, I obſerved, had long abſented himſelf [188] from the Bench at the upper End of the Mall [...] Having not ſeen him for ſome Time, I was in Fear I ſhould ſoon hear of his Death, eſpecially ſince he never appeared, though the Noons have been of late pretty warm, and the Councils at that Place very full from the Hour of Twelve to Three, which the Sages of that Board employ in Conference, while the unthinking Part of Mankind are eating and drinking for the Support of their own private Perſons, without any Regard to the Publick.

SIR,

I Should have waited on you very frequently to have diſcourſed you upon ſome Matters of Moment, but that I love to be well informed in the Subject upon which I conſult my Friends before I enter into Debate with them. I have therefore with the utmoſt Care and Pains applied my ſelf to the reading all the Writings and Pamphlets which have come out ſince the Trial, and have ſtudied Night and Day in order to be Maſter of the whole Controverſy: But the Authors are ſo numerous, and the State of Affairs alters ſo very faſt, that I am now a Fortnight behindhand in my Reading, and know only how Things ſtood Twelve Days ago. I wiſh you would enter into thoſe uſeful Subjects; for, if I may be allowed to ſay ſo, theſe are not Times to jeſt in. As for my own Part, you know very well, that I am of a publick Spirit, and never regarded my own Intereſt, but looked further; and let me tell you, that while ſome People are minding only themſelves and Families, and others are thinking only of their own Country, Thing go on ſtrangely in the North. I foreſee very great Evils ariſing from the Neglect of Tranſactions at a Diſtance; for which Reaſon I am now writing a Letter to a Friend in the Country, which I deſign as an Anſwer to the [189] Czar of Muſcovy's Letter to the Grand Signior concerning his Majeſty of Sweden. I have endeavoured to prove, that it is not reaſonable to expect that his Swediſh Majeſty ſhould leave Bender without Forty Thouſand Men; and I have added to this, an Apology for the Coſſacks. But the Matter multiplies upon me, and I grow dim with much Writing; therefore deſire, if you have an old green Pair of Spectacles, ſuch as you uſed about your Fiftieth Year, that you ſend them to me; as alſo, that you would pleaſe to deſire Mr. Morphew to ſend me in a Buſhel of Coals on the Credit of my Anſwer to his Czarian Majeſty; for I deſign it ſhall be printed for Morphew, and the Weather grows ſharp. I ſhall take it kindly if you would order him alſo to ſend me the Papers as they come out. If there are no freſh Pamphlets publiſhed, I compute that I ſhall know before the End of next Month what has been done in Town to this Day. If it were not for an ill Cuſtom lately introduced by a certain Author, of talking Latin at the Beginning of Papers, Matters would be in a much clearer Light than they are: But to our Comfort, there are ſolid Writers who are not guilty of this Pedantry. The Poſt-Man writes like an Angel: The Moderator is fine Reading! It would do you no Harm to read the Poſt-Boy with Attention; he is very deep of late. He is Inſtructive; but I confeſs a little Satyrical: A ſharp Pen! He cares not what he ſays. The Examiner is admirable, and is become a grave and ſubſtantial Author. But above all, I am at a Loſs how to govern my ſelf in my Judgment of thoſe whoſe whole Writings conſiſt in Interrogatories: And then the Way of anſwering, by propoſing Queſtions as hard to them, is quite as extraordinary. As for my Part, I tremble at theſe Novelties; we expoſe, in my Opinion, our Affairs too much by it. You may be ſure the [190] French King will ſpare no Coſt to come at the reading of them. I dread to think if the Fable of the Black Birds ſhould fall into his Hands. But I ſhall not venture to ſay more till I ſee you. In the mean Time,

I am, &c.

P. S. I take the Bender Letter in the Examiner to be ſpurious.

This unhappy Correſpondent, whoſe fantaſtical Loyalty to the King of Sweden has reduced him to this low Condition of Reaſon and Fortune, would appear much more monſtrous in his Madneſs, did we not ſee Crowds very little above his Circumſtances from the ſame Cauſe, a Paſſion to Politicks.

It is no unpleaſant Entertainment to conſider the Commerce even of the Sexes interrupted by Difference in State Affairs. A Wench and her Gallant parted laſt Week upon the Words Unlimited and Paſſive: And there is ſuch a Jargon of Terms got into the Mouths of the very ſillieſt of the Women, that you cannot come into a Room even among them, but you find them divided into Whig and Tory. What heightens the Humour is, that all the hard Words they know, they certainly ſuppoſe to be Terms uſeful in the Diſputes of the Parties. I came in this Day where Two were in very hot Debate, and one of them propoſed to me to explain to them what was the Difference between Circumciſion and Predeſtination. You may be ſure I was at a Loſs; but they were too angry at each other to wait for my Explanation, but proceeded to lay open the whole State of Affairs, inſtead of the uſual Topicks of Dreſs, Gallantry and Scandal.

I have often wondered how it ſhould be poſſible that this Turn to Politicks ſhould ſo univerſally prevail, to the Excluſion of every other Subject out [191] of Converſation; and upon mature Conſideration, find it is for Want of Diſcourſe. Look round you among all the young Fellows you meet, and you ſee thoſe who have leaſt Reliſh for Books, Company, or Pleaſure, though they have no Manner of Qualities to make them ſucceed in thoſe Purſuits, ſhall make very paſſable Politicians. Thus the moſt barren Invention ſhall find enough to ſay to make one appear an able Man in the Top-Coffee-houſes. It is but adding a certain Vehemence in uttering your ſelf, let the Thing you ſay be never ſo flat, and you ſhall be thought a very ſenſible Man, if you were not too hot. As Love and Honour are the nobleſt Motives of Life; ſo the Pretenders to them, without being animated by them, are the moſt contemptible of all Sorts of Pretenders. The unjuſt Affectation of any Thing that is laudable, is ignominious in Proportion to the Worth of the Thing we affect: Thus, as Love of one's Country is the moſt glorious of all Paſſions, to ſee the moſt ordinary Tools in a Nation give themſelves Airs that Way, without any one good Quality in their own Life, has ſomething in it Romantick, yet not ſo ridiculous as odious.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Mr. Bickerſtaff has received Silvia's Letter from the Bath, and his Siſter is ſet out thither. Tom. Frontley, who is one of the Guides for the Town, is deſired to bring her into Company, and oblige her with a Mention in his next Lampoon.

The TATLER. [No 233.
From Tueſd. Octob. 3. to Thurſd. Octob. 5. 1710.

[192]
— Sunt certa Piacula, quae te
Ter pure Lecto poterunt recreare Libello.
Hor.

WHEN the Mind has been perplexed with anxious Cares and Paſſions, the beſt Method of bringing it to its uſual State of Tranquility, is, as much as we poſſibly can, to turn our Thoughts to the Adverſities of Perſons of higher Conſideration in Virtue and Merit than our ſelves. By this Means all the little Incidents of our own Lives, if they are unfortunate, ſeem to be the Effect of Juſtice upon our Faults and Indiſcretions. When thoſe whom we know to be excellent and deſerving of a better Fate are wretched, we cannot but reſign our ſelves, whom moſt of us know to merit a much worſe State than that we are placed in. For ſuch and many other Occaſions, there is one admirable Relation which one might recommend for certain Periods of one's Life, to touch, comfort, and improve the Heart of Man. Tully ſays, ſomewhere, The Pleaſures of an Huſbandman are next to thoſe of a Philoſopher. In like Manner one may ſay, (for methinks they bear the ſame Proportion one to another) the Pleaſures of Humanity are next to thoſe of Devotion. In both theſe latter Satisfactions, there is a certain Humiliation which exalts the Soul above its ordinary State. At the ſame Time that it leſſens our Value of our ſelves, it enlarges our Eſtimation of others. The Hiſtory I am going to ſpeak of, is [193] that of Joſeph in Holy Writ, which is related with ſuch Majeſtick Simplicity, that all the Parts of it ſtrike us with ſtrong Touches of Nature and Compaſſion, and he muſt be a Stranger to both who can read it with Attention, and not be overwhelmed with the Viciſſitudes of Joy and Sorrow. I hope it will not be a Prophanation to tell it ones own Way here, that they who may be unthinking enough to be more frequently Readers of ſuch Papers as this than of Sacred Writ, may be advertiſed, that the greateſt Pleaſures the Imagination can be entertained with are to be found there, and that even the Style of the Scriptures is more than Humane.

Joſeph, a beloved Child of Iſrael, became invidious to his elder Brethren, for no other Reaſon but his ſuperior Beauty and Excellence of Body and Mind, inſomuch that they could not bear his growing Virtue, and let him live. They therefore conſpire his Death; but Nature pleaded ſo ſtrongly for him in the Heart of one of them, that by his Perſwaſion they determined rather to bury him in a Pit, than be his immediate Executioners with their own Hands. When thus much was obtained for him, their Minds ſtill ſoftened towards him, and they took the Opportunity of ſome Paſſengers to ſell him into Egypt. Iſrael was perſuaded by the Artifice of his Sons, that the Youth was torn to Pieces by Wild Beaſts: But Joſeph was ſold to Slavery, and ſtill expoſed to new Misfortunes, from the ſame Cauſe as before, his Beauty and his Virtue. By a falſe Accuſation he was committed to Priſon, but in Proceſs of Time delivered from it, in Conſideration of his Wiſdom and Knowledge, and made the Governor of Pharaoh's Houſe. In this Elevation of his Fortune, his Brothers were ſent into Egypt to buy Neceſſaries of Life in a Famine. As ſoon as they are brought into his Preſence, he beholds, but he beholds with Compaſſion, the Men who had ſold [194] him to Slavery approaching him with Awe and Reverence. While he was looking over his Brethren, he takes a Reſolution to indulge himſelf in the Pleaſure of ſtirring their and his own Affections, by keeping himſelf concealed, and examining into the Circumſtances of their Family. For this End, with an Air of Severity, as a watchful Miniſter to Pharaoh, he accuſes them as Spies, who are come into Egypt with Deſigns againſt the State. This led them into the Account which he wanted of them, the Condition of their ancient Father and little Brother, whom they had left behind them. When he had learned that his Brother was living, he demands the bringing him to Egypt, as a Proof of their Veracity.

But it would be a vain and empty Endeavour to attempt laying this excellent Repreſentation of the Paſſions of Man in the ſame Colours as they appear in the Sacred Writ in any other Manner, or almoſt any other Words, than thoſe made uſe of in the Page it ſelf. I am obliged therefore to turn my deſigned Narration rather into a Comment upon the ſeveral Parts of that beautiful and paſſionate Scene. When Joſeph expects to ſee Benjamin, How natural, and how forcible is the Reflection, This Affliction is come upon us in that we ſaw the Anguiſh of our Brother's Soul without Pity? How moving muſt it be to Joſeph to hear Reuben accuſe the reſt, that they would not hear what he pleaded in Behalf of his Innocence and Diſtreſs? He turns from them and weeps, but commands his Paſſion ſo far as to give Orders for binding one of them in the Preſence of the reſt, while he at Leiſure obſerved their different Sentiments and Concern in their Geſture and Countenance. When Benjamin is demanded in Bondage for ſtealing the Cup, With what Force, and what Reſignation does Judah addreſs his Brother?

In what Words ſhall I ſpeak to my Lord; with what Confidence can I ſay any Thing? Our Guilt [195] is but too apparent, we ſubmit to our Fate. We are my Lord's Servants, both we and he alſo with whom the Cup is found. When that is not accepted, How pathetically does he recapitulate the whole Story? And approaching nearer to Joſeph, delivers himſelf as follows; which, if we fix our Thoughts upon the Relation between the Pleader and the Judge, it is impoſſible to read without Tears.

SIR,

Let me intrude ſo far upon you even in the high Condition in which you are, and the miſerable One in which you ſee me and my Brethren, to inform you of the Circumſtances of us unhappy Men that proſtrate our ſelves before you. When we were firſt examined by you, you enquired, (for what Reaſon my Lord enquired we know not;) but you enquired whether we had not a Father or a Brother? We then acquainted you, that we had a Father, an old Man, who had a Child of his old Age, and had buried another Son whom he had by the ſame Woman. You were pleaſed to command us to bring the Child he had remaining down to you: We did ſo, and he has forfeited his Liberty. But my Father ſaid to us, You know that my Wife bare me Two Sons, one of them was torn in Pieces: If Miſchief befal this alſo, it will bring my Grey Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave. Accept, therefore, Oh my Lord! me for your Bond-man, and let the Lad return with his Brethren, that I may not ſee the Evil that ſhall come on my Father. Here Joſeph's Paſſion grew too great for further Diſguiſe, and he reveals himſelf with Exclamations of Tranſport and Tenderneſs.

After their Recovery from their firſt Aſtoniſhment, his Brethren were ſeized with Fear for the Injuries they had done him; but how generouſly does he keep them in Countenance, and make an [196] Apology for them: Be not angry with your ſelves for ſelling me hither; call it not ſo, but think Providence ſent me before you to preſerve Life.

It would be endleſs to go through all the Beauties of this ſacred Narrative; but any who ſhall read it, at an Hour when he is diſengaged from all other Regard or Intereſts than what ariſe from it, will feel the alternate Paſſion of a Father, a Brother, and a Son, ſo warm in him, that they will incline him to exert himſelf (in ſuch of thoſe Characters as happen to be his) much above the ordinary Courſe of his Life.

The TATLER. [No 234.
From Thurſd. Octob. 5. to Saturd. Octob. 7. 1710.

I HAVE Reaſon to believe, that certain of my Contemporaries have made Uſe of an Art (I ſome time ago profeſſed) of being often deſignedly dull; and for that Reaſon ſhall not exert my ſelf when I ſee them lazy. He that has ſo much to ſtruggle with as the Man who pretends to cenſure others, muſt keep up his Fire for an Onſet, and may be allowed to carry his Arms a little careleſly upon an ordinary March. This Paper therefore ſhall be taken up by my Correſpondents, Two of which have ſent me the Two following plain, but ſenſible and honeſt Letters, upon Subjects no leſs important than thoſe of Education and Devotion.

SIR,

I Am an old Man, retired from all Acquaintance with the Town, but what I have from your Papers (not the worſt Entertainment of [197] my Solitude;) yet being ſtill a Well-wiſher to my Country and the Commonwealth of Learning (a qua, confitcor, nullam Aetatis meae Partem abhorruiſſe;) and hoping the plain Phraſe in Writing that was current in my younger Days would have laſted for my Time, I was ſtartled at the Picture of modern Politeneſs (tranſmitted by your ingenious Correſpondent), and grieved to ſee our Sterling Engliſh Language fallen into the Hands of Clippers and Coyners. That mutilated Epiſtle, conſiſting of Hippo, Rep's, and ſuch-like enormous Curtailings, was a mortifying Spectacle, but with the Reſerve of Comfort to find this, and other Abuſes of our Mother-Tongue, ſo pathetically complained of, and to the proper Perſon for redreſſing them, the Cenſor of Great Britain.

He had before repreſented, the deplorable Ignorance that for ſeveral Years paſt has reigned amongſt our Engliſh Writers, the great Depravity of our Taſte, and continual Corruption of our Style: But, Sir, before you give your ſelf the Trouble of preſcribing Remedies for theſe Diſtempers, (which you own will require the greateſt Care and Application) give me Leave (having long had my Eye upon theſe Miſchiefs, and Thoughts exerciſed about them) to mention what I humbly conceive to be the Cauſe of them, and in your Friend Horace's Words, Quo Fonte derivata Clades in Patriam Populumque fluxit.

I take our corrupt Ways of Writing to proceed from the Miſtakes and wrong Meaſures in our common Methods of Education, which I always looked upon as one of our National Grievances, and a Singularity that renders us no leſs than our Situation,

— Penitus toto diviſos Orbe Britannos.

This puts me upon conſulting the moſt celebrated Criticks on that Subject, to compare our Practice [198] with their Precepts, and find where it was that we came ſhort or went wide.

But after all, I found our Caſe required ſomething more than theſe Doctors had directed, and the principal Defect of our Engliſh Diſcipline to lie in the Initiatory Part, which, altho' it needs the greateſt Care and Skill, is uſually left to the Conduct of thoſe blind Guides, viz. Chance and Ignorance.

I ſhall trouble you with but a ſingle Inſtance, purſuant to what your ſagacious Friend has ſaid, That he could furniſh you with a Catalogue of Engliſh Books, that would coſt you a Hundred Pounds at firſt Hand, wherein you could not find Ten Lines together of common Grammar; which is a neceſſary Conſequence of our Miſmanagement in that Province.

For can any Thing be more abſurd than our Way of Proceeding in this Part of Literature? To puſh tender Wits into the intricate Mazes of Grammar, and a Latin Grammer? To learn an unknown Art by an unknown Tongue? To carry them a dark Round-about Way to let them in at a Back-Door? Whereas by teaching them firſt the Grammar of their Mother-Tongue, (ſo eaſy to be learned) their Advance to the Grammars of Latin and Greek would be gradual and eaſy; but our precipitate Way of hurrying them over ſuch a Gulph, before we have built them a Bridge to it, is a Shock to their weak Underſtandings, which they ſeldom, or very late, recover. In the mean Time we wrong Nature, and ſlander Infants, who want neither Capacity nor Will to learn, till we put them upon Service beyond their Strength, and then indeed we baulk them.

The Liberal Arts and Sciences are all beautiful as the Graces; nor has Grammar (the ſevere Mother of all) ſo frightful a Face of her Own; 'tis the Vizard put upon it that ſcares [199] Children. She is made to ſpeak hard Words, that to them ſound like Conjuring. Let her talk intelligibly, and they will liſten to her.

In this, I think, as on other Accounts, we ſhew our ſelves true Britains, always overlooking our natural Advantages. It has been the Practice of wiſeſt Nations to learn their own Language by ſtated Rules, to avoid the Confuſion that would follow from leaving it to vulgar Uſe. Our Engliſh Tongue (ſays a learned Man) is the moſt determinate in its Conſtruction, and reducible to the feweſt Rules Whatever Language has leſs Grammar in it, is not intelligible; and whatever has more, all that it has more is ſuperfluous; for which Reaſons he would have it made the Foundation of learning Latin, and all other Languages.

To ſpeak and write without Abſurdity the Language of one's Country, is commendable in Perſons of all Stations, and to ſome indiſpenſibly neceſſary; and to this Purpoſe, I would recommend above all Things the having a Grammar of our Mother-Tongue firſt taught in our Schools, which would facilitate our Youths learning their Latin and Greek Grammars, with ſpare Time for Arithmetick, Aſtronomy, Coſmography, Hiſtory, &c. that would make them paſs the Spring of their Life with Profit and Pleaſure, that is now miſerably ſpent in Grammatical Perplexities.

But here, methinks, I ſee the Reader ſmile, and ready to ask me, (as the Lawyer did Sexton Diego on his bequeathing rich Legacies to the Poor of the Pariſh. Where are theſe mighty Sums to be raiſed?) Where is there ſuch a Grammar to be had? I will not anſwer, as he did, Even where your Worſhip pleaſes. No, it is our good Fortune to have ſuch a Grammar, with Notes, now in the Preſs, and to be publiſhed next Term.

[200] I hear it is a chargeable Work, and wiſh the Publiſher to have Cuſtomers of all that have Need of ſuch a Book; yet fancy that he cannot be much a Sufferer, if it is only bought by all that have more Need for it than they think they have.

A certain Author brought a Poem to Mr. Cowley, for his Peruſal and Judgment of the Performance, which he demanded at the next Viſit with a Poetaſter's Aſſurance; and Mr. Cowley, with his uſual Modeſty, deſired that he would be pleaſed to look a little to the Grammar of it. To the Grammar of it! What do you mean, Sir? Would you ſend me to School again? Why Mr. H—, Would it do you any Harm?

This put me on conſidering how this Voyage of Literature may be made with more Safety and Profit, Expedition and Delight; and at laſt, for compleating ſo good a Service, to requeſt your Directions in ſo deplorable a Caſe; hoping that, as you have had Compaſſion on our over-grown Coxcombs in Concerns of leſs Conſequence, you will exert your Charity towards Innocents, and vouchſafe to be Guardian to the Children and Youth of Great Britain in this important Affair of Education, wherein Miſtakes and wrong Meaſures have ſo often occaſioned their Averſion to Books, that had otherwiſe proved the chief Ornament and Pleaſure of their Life. I am with ſincereſt Reſpect,

SIR,
Your, &c.
Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Obſerve, as the Seaſon begins to grow cold, ſo does People's Devotion; inſomuch that inſtead of filling the Churches, that united Zeal might keep one warm there, one is left to freeze [201] in almoſt bare Walls, by thoſe who in hot Weather are troubleſome the contrary Way. This, Sir, needs a Regulation that none but you can give to it, by cauſing thoſe who abſent themſelves on Account of Weather only this Wintertime, to pay the Apothecaries Bills occaſioned by Coughs, Catarrhs, and other Diſtempers contracted by ſitting in empty Seats. Therefore to you I apply my ſelf for Redreſs, having gotten ſuch a Cold on Sunday was Sevenight, that has brought me almoſt to your Worſhip's Age from Sixty within leſs than a Fortnight. I am

Your Worſhip's in all Obedience, W. E.

The TATLER. [No 235.
From Saturd. Octob. 7. to Tueſday Octob. 10. 1710.

Scit Genius natale Comes qui temperat Aſtrum.
Hor.

AMong thoſe Inclinations which are common to all Men, there is none more unaccountable than that unequal Love by which Parents diſtinguiſh their Children from each other. Sometimes Vanity and Self-love appear to have a Share towards this Effect; and in other Inſtances I have been apt to attribute it to meer Inſtinct: But however that is, we frequently ſee the Child that has been beholden to neither of theſe Impulſes in their Parents, in ſpight of being neglected, ſnubbed, and thwarted at Home, acquire a Behaviour which makes it as agreeable to all the reſt of the World, as that of every one elſe of [202] their Family is to each other. I fell into this Way of Thinking from an Intimacy which I have with a very good Houſe in our Neighbourhood, where there are Three Daughters of a very different Character and Genius. The eldeſt has a great deal of Wit and Cunning; the Second has good Senſe, but no Artifice; the Third has much Vivacity, but little Underſtanding. The Firſt is a fine, but ſcornful Woman; the Second is not charming, but very winning; the Third no Way commendable, but very deſirable. The Father of theſe young Creatures was ever a great Pretender to Wit, the Mother a Woman of as much Coquettry. This Turn in the Parents has biaſſed their Affections towards their Children. The old Man ſuppoſes the eldeſt of his own Genius, and the Mother looks upon the youngeſt as her ſelf renewed. By this Means, all the Lovers that approach the Houſe are diſcarded by the Father for not obſerving Mrs. Mary's Wit and Beauty, and by the Mother for being blind to the Mien and Air of Mrs. Biddy. Come never ſo many Pretenders, they are not ſuſpected to have the leaſt Thoughts of Mrs. Betty, the middle Daughter. Betty therefore is mortified into a Woman of a great deal of Merit, and knows ſhe muſt depend on that only for her Advancement. The middlemoſt is thus the Favourite of all her Acquaintance as well as mine, while the other Two carry a certain Inſolence about them in all Converſations, and expect the Partiality which they meet with at Home to attend them wherever they appear. So little do Parents underſtand that they are of all People the leaſt Judges of their Children's Merit, that what they reckon ſuch is ſeldom any Thing elſe but a Repetition of their own Faults and Infirmities.

There is, methinks, ſome Excuſe for being particular, when one of the Offspring has any Defect in Nature. In this Caſe, the Child, if we may ſo [203] ſpeak, is ſo much the longer the Child of its Parents, and calls for the Continuance of their Care and Indulgence from the Slowneſs of its Capacity, or the Weakneſs of its Body. But there is no enduring to ſee Men enamoured only at the Sight of their own Impertinencies repeated, and to obſerve, as we may ſometimes, that they have a ſecret Diſlike of their Children for a Degeneracy from their very Crimes. Commend me to Lady Goodly; ſhe is equal to all her own Children, but prefers them to thoſe of all the World beſide. My Lady is a perfect Hen in the Care of her Brood; ſhe fights and ſquabbles with all that appear where they come, but is wholly unbiaſſed in diſpenſing her Favours among them. It is no ſmall Pains ſhe is at to defame all the young Women in her Neighbourhood by Viſits, Whiſpers, Intimations, and Hearſays; all which ſhe ends with thanking Heaven, that no one living is ſo bleſſed with ſuch obedient and well inclined Children as her ſelf. Perhaps, ſays ſhe, Betty cannot dance like Mrs. Frontinett, and it is no great Matter whether ſhe does or not; but ſhe comes into a Room with a good Grace; though ſhe ſays it that ſhould not, ſhe looks like a Gentlewoman. Then if Mrs. Rebecca is not ſo talkative as the mighty Wit Mrs. Clapper, yet ſhe is diſcreet, ſhe knows better what ſhe ſays when ſhe does ſpeak. If her Wit be ſlow, her Tongue never runs before it. This kind Parent lifts up her Eyes and Hands in Congratulation of her own good Fortune, and is maliciouſly thankful that none of her Girls are like any of her Neighbours: But this Preference of her own to all others, is grounded upon an Impulſe of Nature; while thoſe who like one before another of their own, are ſo unpardonably unjuſt, that it could hardly be equalled in the Children, though they preferred all the reſt of the World to ſuch Parents. It is no unpleaſant Entertainment to ſee a Ball at a Dancing-School, [204] and obſerve the Joy of Relations when the young Ones, for whom they are concerned, are in Motion. You need not be told whom the Dancers belong to. At their firſt Appearance the Paſſion of their Parents are in their Faces, and there is always a Nod of Approbation ſtolen at a good Step, or a graceful Turn.

I remember among all my Acquaintance but one Man whom I have thought to live with his Children with Equanimity and a good Grace. He had Three Sons and One Daughter, whom he bred with all the Care imaginable in a liberal and ingenuous Way. I have often heard him ſay, He had the Weakneſs to love one much better than the other, but that he took as much Pains to correct that as any other Criminal Paſſion that could ariſe in his Mind. His Method was, to make it the only Pretenſion in his Children to his Favour to be kind to each other; and he would tell them, That he who was the beſt Brother, he would reckon the beſt Son. This turned their Thoughts into an Emulation for the Superiority in kind and tender Affection towards each other. The Boys behaved themſelves very early with a Manly Friendſhip; and their Siſter, inſtead of the groſs Familiarities and impertinent Freedoms in Behaviour, uſual in other Houſes, was always treated by them with as much Complaiſance as any other young Lady of their Acquaintance. It was an unſpeakable Pleaſure to viſit or ſit at Meal in that Family. I have often ſeen the old Man's Heart flow at his Eyes with Joy upon Occaſions which would appear indifferent to ſuch as were Strangers to the Turn of his Mind; but a very ſlight Accident, wherein he ſaw his Children's Good-Will to one another, created in him the God-like Pleaſure of loving them, becauſe they loved each other. This great Command of himſelf, in hiding his firſt Impulſe to Partiality, at laſt improved to a ſteady Juſtice towards them; [205] and that which at firſt was but an Expedient to correct his Weakneſs, was afterwards the Meaſure of his Virtue.

The Truth of it is, thoſe Parents who are intereſted in the Care of one Child more than that of another, no longer deſerve the Name of Parents, but are in Effect as childiſh as their Children, in having ſuch unreaſonable and ungoverned Inclinations. A Father of this Sort has degraded himſelf into one of his own Offspring; for none but a Child would take Part in the Paſſions of Children.

The TATLER. [No 236.
From Tueſday Octob. 10. to Thurſday Octob. 12. 1710.

Neſcio qua natale Solum Dulcedine Mentem
Tangit, & immemorem non ſinit eſſe ſui.
Ovid.

I Find in the Regiſters of my Family, that the Branch of the Bickerſtaffs, from which I am deſcended, came originally out of Ireland. This has given me a Kind of natural Affection for that Country. It is therefore with Pleaſure that I ſee not only ſome of the greateſt Warriors, but alſo of the greateſt Wits, to be Natives of that Kingdom. The Gentleman who writes the following Letter is one of theſe laſt. The Matter of Fact contained in it is literally true, tho' the diverting Manner in which it is told may give it the Colour of a Fable.

[206]

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq at his Houſe in Great Britain.

SIR,

FInding by ſeveral Paſſages of your Tatlers, that you are a Perſon curious in Natural Knowledge, I thought it would not be unacceptable to you to give you the following Hiſtory of the Migration of Frogs into this Country. There is an ancient Tradition among the wild Philoſophers of the Kingdom, That this whole Iſland was once as much infeſted by Frogs, as that wherein Whittington made his Fortune was by Mice. Inſomuch that it is ſaid, Mackdonald the Firſt could no more ſleep by reaſon of theſe Dutch Nightingales, (as they are called at Paris) than Pharaoh could when they croaked in his Bed-Chamber. It was in the Reign of this great Monarch that St. Patrick arrived in Ireland, being as famous for deſtroying Vermin as any Rat-catcher of our Times. If we may believe the Tradition, he killed more in one Day than a Flock of Storks could have done in a Twelvemonth. From that Time for about Five hundred Years, there was not a Frog to be heard in Ireland, notwithſtanding the Bogs ſtill remained, which in former Ages had been ſo plentifully ſtocked with thoſe Inhabitants.

When the Arts began to flouriſh in the Reign of King Charles the Second, and that great Monarch had placed himſelf at the Head of the Royal Society, to lead them forward into the Diſcoveries of Nature, it is ſaid, That ſeveral Propoſals were laid before his Majeſty for the importing of Frogs into Ireland. In order to it, a Virtuoſo of known Abilities was unanimouſly elected by the Society, and intruſted with the whole Management of that Affair. For this End he took along with him a ſound Able-bodied Frog, of a ſtrong hale Conſtitution, that [207] had given Proofs of his Vigour by ſeveral Leaps which he made before that Learned Body. They took Ship, and ſailed together till they came within Sight of the Hill of Hoath, before the Frog diſcovered any Symptoms of being indiſpoſed by his Voyage: But as the Wind chopped about, and began to blow from the Iriſh Coaſt, he grew Sea-ſick, or rather Land-ſick; for his learned Companion aſcribed it to the Particles of the Soil with which the Wind was impregnated. He was confirmed in his Conjecture, when, upon the Wind's turning about, his Fellow Traveller ſenſibly recovered, and continued in good Health till his Arrival upon the Shore, where he ſuddenly relapſed, and expired upon a Ring's-End Car in his Way to Dublin. The ſame Experiment was repeated ſeveral Times in that Reign, but to no Purpoſe. A Frog was never known to take Three Leaps upon Iriſh Turf, before he ſtretched himſelf out and died.

Whether it were that the Philos;ophers on this Side the Water deſpaired of [...]ocking the Iſland with this uſeful Animal, or whether in the following Reign it was not thought proper to undo the Miracle of a Popiſh Saint, I do not hear of any further Progreſs made in this Affair till about Two Years after the Battle of the Boyne.

It was then that an ingenious Phyſician, to the Honour as well as Improvement of his Native Country, performed what the Engliſh had been ſo long attempting in vain. This learned Man, with the Hazard of his Life, made a Voyage to Leverpool, where he filled ſeveral Barrels with the choiceſt Spawn of Frogs that could be found in thoſe Parts. This Cargo he brought over very carefully, and afterwards diſpoſed of it in ſeveral warm Beds that he thought moſt capable of bringing it to Life. The Doctor was [208] a very ingenious Phyſician, and a very good Proteſtant; for which Reaſon, to ſhow his Zeal againſt Popery, he placed ſome of the moſt promiſing Spawn in the very Fountain that is dedicated to the Saint, and known by the Name of St. Patrick's Well, where theſe Animals had the Impudence to make their firſt Appearance. They have ſince that Time very much increaſed and multiplied in all the Neighbourhood of this City. We have here ſome curious Enquirers into Natural Hiſtory who obſerve their Motions, with a Deſign to compute in how many Years they will be able to hop from Dublin to Wexford; tho', as I am inform'd, not one of them has yet paſſed the Mountains of Wicklow.

I am further informed, that ſeveral Graſiers of the County of Cork have entered into a Project of planting a Colony in thoſe Parts, at the Inſtance of the French Proteſtants: And I know not but the ſame Deſign may be on Foot in other Parts of the Kingdom, if the Wiſdom of the Britiſh Nation do not think fit to prohibit the further Importation of Engliſh Frogs. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, T. B.

There is no Study more becoming a rational Creature, than that of Natural Philoſophy; but as ſeveral of our modern Virtuoſo's manage it, their Speculations do not ſo much tend to open and enlarge the Mind, as to contract and fix it upon Trifles.

This in England is in a great Meaſure owing to the worthy Elections that are ſo frequently made in our Royal Society. They ſeem to be in a Confederacy againſt Men of polite Genius, noble Thought, and diffuſive Learning; and chuſe into their Aſſemblies ſuch as have no Pretence to Wiſdom, but Want of Wit; or to natural Knowledge, [209] but Ignorance of every Thing elſe. I have made Obſervations in this Matter ſo long, that when I meet with a young Fellow that is an humble Admirer of the Sciences, but more dull than the reſt of the Company, I conclude him to be a Fellow of the Royal Society.

The TATLER. [No 237.
From Thurſd. Octob. 12. to Saturd. Octob. 14. 1710.

In nova fert Animus mutatas dicere Formas
Corpora. —
Ovid.

COming Home laſt Night before my uſual Hour, I took a Book into my Hand, in order to divert my ſelf with it till Bed-time. Milton chanced to be my Author, whoſe admirable Poem of Paradiſe Loſt ſerves, at once, to fill the Mind with pleaſing Idea's, and with good Thoughts, and was therefore the moſt proper Book for my Purpoſe. I was amuſing my ſelf with that beautiful Paſſage in which the Poet repreſents Eve ſleeping by Adam's Side, with the Devil ſitting at her Ear, and inſpiring evil Thoughts under the Shape of a Toad. Ithuriel, one of the Guardian Angels of the Place, walking his Nightly Rounds, ſaw the great Enemy of Mankind hid in this loathſome Animal, which he touched with his Spear. This Spear being of a Celeſtial Temper, had ſuch a ſecret Virtue in it, that whatever it was applied to, immediately flung off all Diſguiſe, and appeared in its natural Figure. I am afraid the Reader will not pardon me if I content my ſelf with explaining the [210] Paſſage in Proſe, without giving it in the Author's own inimitable Words:

— On he led his radiant Files,
Dazzling the Morn: Theſe to the Bower direct,
In Search of whom they ſought. Him there they found,
Squat like a Toad, cloſe at the Ear of Eve;
Eſſaying by his deviliſh Art to reach
The Organs of her Fancy, and with them forge
Illuſions as he liſt, Phantaſms and Dreams;
Or if, inſpiring Venom, he might taint
The Animal Spirits (that from pure Blood ariſe
Like gentle Breaths from Rivers pure) thence raiſe
At leaſt diſtemper'd, diſcontented Thoughts,
Vain Hopes, vain Aims, inordinate Deſtres,
Blown up with high Conceits, ingendring Pride.
Him thus intent, Ithuriel with his Spear
Touch'd lightly; for no Falſhood can endure
Touch of Celeſtial Temper, but returns
Of Force to his own Likeneſs. Up he ſtarts,
Diſcover'd and ſurpriz'd. As when a Spark
Lights on a Heap of nitrous Powder, laid
Fit for the Tun, ſome Magazine to ſtore
Againſt a rumour'd War, the ſmutty Grain,
With ſudden Blaze diffus'd, inflames the Air;
So ſtarted up in his own Shape the Fiend.

I could not forbear thinking how happy a Man would be in the Poſſeſſion of this Spear; or what an Advantage it would be to a Miniſter of State, were he Maſter of ſuch a White Staff. It would let him diſcover his Friends from his Enemies, Men of Abilities from Pretenders: It would hinder him from being impoſed upon by Appearances and Profeſſions, and might be made uſe of as a Kind of State Teſt, which no Artifice could elude.

Theſe Thoughts made very lively Impreſſions on my Imagination, which were improv'd, inſtead of being defaced by Sleep, and produced in me the following Dream: I was no ſooner fallen [211] aſleep, but, methoughts, the Angel Ithuriel appeared to me, and with a Smile that ſtill added to his Celeſtial Beauty, made me a Preſent of the Spear which he held in his Hand, and diſappeared. To make Trial of it, I went into a Place of publick Reſort.

The firſt Perſon that paſſed by me, was a Lady that had a particular Shyneſs in the Caſt of her Eye, and a more than ordinary Reſervedneſs in all the Parts of her Behaviour. She ſeemed to look upon Man as an obſcene Creature, with a certain Scorn and Fear of him. In the Height of her Airs I touched her gently with my Wand, when, to my unſpeakable Surprize, ſhe fell upon her Back, and kick'd up her Heels in ſuch a Manner, as made me bluſh in my Sleep. As I was haſting away from this undiſguiſed Prude, I ſaw a Lady in earneſt Diſcourſe with another, and overheard her ſay with ſome Vehemence, Never tell me of him, for I am reſolv'd to die a Virgin! I had a Curioſity to try her; but as ſoon as I laid my Wand upon her Head, ſhe immediately fell in Labour. My Eyes were diverted from her by a Man and his Wife, who walked near me Hand in Hand after a very loving Manner. I gave each of them a gentle Tap, and the next Inſtant ſaw the Woman in Breeches, and the Man with a Fan in his Hand. It would be tedious to deſcribe the long Series of Metamorphoſes that I entertained my ſelf with in my Night's Adventure, of Whigs diſguiſed in Tories, and Tories in Whigs; Men in Red Coats that denounced Terror in their Countenances, trembling at the Touch of my Spear; others in Black with Peace in their Mouths, but Swords in their Hands. I could tell Stories of Noblemen changed into Uſurers, and Magiſtrates into Beadles; of Free-Thinkers into Penitents, and Reformers into Whoremaſters. I muſt not however omit the Mention of a grave Citizen that paſſed by me with an huge Claſped [212] Bible under his Arm, and a Band of a moſt immoderate Breadth; but upon a Touch on the Shoulder, he let drop his Book, and fell a picking my Pocket.

In the general I obſerved, that thoſe who appeared good, often diſappointed my Expectation; but that on the contrary, thoſe who appeared very bad, ſtill grew worſe upon the Experiment; as the Toad in Milton, which one would have thought the moſt deformed Part of the Creation, at Ithuriel's Stroke, became more deformed, and ſtarted up into a Devil.

Among all the Perſons that I touched, there was but one who ſtood the Teſt of my Wand; and after many Repetitions of the Stroke, ſtuck to his Form, and remained ſteady and fixed in his firſt Appearance. This was a young Man who boaſted of foul Diſtempers, wild Debauches, Inſults upon holy Men, and Affronts to Religion.

My Heart was extremely troubled at this Viſion: The Contemplation of the whole Species, ſo entirely ſunk in Corruption, filled my Mind with a Melancholy that is inexpreſſible, and my Diſcoveries ſtill added to my Affliction.

In the Midſt of theſe Sorrows which I had in my Heart, methoughts there paſſed by me a Couple of Coaches with Purple Liveries. There ſate in each of them a Perſon with a very venerable Aſpect. At the Appearance of them, the People who were gathered round me in great Multitudes divided into Parties, as they were diſpoſed to favour either of thoſe reverend Perſons: The Enemies of one of them begged me to touch him with my Wand, and aſſured me, I ſhould ſee his Lawn converted into a Cloak. The oppoſite Party told me with as much Aſſurance, That if I laid my Wand upon the other, I ſhould ſee his Garments embroidered with Flower-de-Luces, and his Head covered with a Cardinal's Cap. I made the Experiment, and to my great Joy, ſaw [213] them both, without any Change, diſtributing their Bleſſings to the People, and praying for thoſe who had reviled them. Is it poſſible, thought I, that good Men, who are ſo few in Number, ſhould be divided among themſelves, and give better Quarter to the Vicious that are in their Party, than the moſt ſtrictly Virtuous who are out of it? Are the Ties of Faction above thoſe of Religion?—I was going on in my Soliloquies, but ſome ſudden Accident awakened me, when I found my Hand graſped, but my Spear gone. The Reflection on ſo very odd a Dream made me figure to my ſelf, What a ſtrange Face the World would bear, ſhould all Mankind appear in their proper Shapes and Characters, without Hypocriſy and Diſguiſe? I am afraid, the Earth we live upon would appear to other intellectual Beings no better than a Planet peopled with Monſters. This ſhould, methinks, inſpire us with an honeſt Ambition of recommending our ſelves to thoſe inviſible Spies, and of being what we would appear. There was one Circumſtance in my foregoing Dream which I at firſt intended to conceal; but upon ſecond Thoughts, I cannot look upon my ſelf as a candid and impartial Hiſtorian, if I do not acquaint my Reader, that upon taking Ithuriel's Spear into my Hand, though I was before an old decrepid Fellow, I appeared a very handſome, jolly, black Man. But I know my Enemies will ſay, this is praiſing my own Beauty, for which Reaſon I will ſpeak no more of it.

The TATLER. [No 238.
From Saturd. Octob. 14. to Tueſd. Octob. 17. 1710.

[214]
— Poetica ſurgit
Tempeſtas —
Juv.

STorms at Sea are ſo frequently deſcribed by the ancient Poets, and copied by the Moderns, that whenever I find the Winds begin to riſe in a new Heroick Poem, I generally skip a Leaf or Two till I come into Fair Weather. Virgil's Tempeſt is a Maſter-piece in this Kind, and is indeed ſo naturally drawn, that one who has made a Voyage can ſcarce read it without being Seaſick.

Land Showers are no leſs frequent among the Poets than the former, but I remember none of them which have not fallen in the Country; for which Reaſon they are generally filled with the Lowings of Oxen, and the Bleatings of Sheep, and very often embelliſhed with a Rainbow.

Virgil's Land Shower is likewiſe the beſt in its Kind: It is indeed a Shower of Conſequence, and contributes to the main Deſign of the Poem, by cutting off a tedious Ceremonial, and bringing Matters to a ſpeedy Concluſion between Two Potentates of different Sexes. My ingenious Kinſman Mr. Humphry Wagſtaff, who treats of every Subject after a Manner that no other Author has done, and better than any other can do, has ſent me the Deſcription of a City Shower. I do not queſtion but the Reader remembers my Couſin's Deſcription of the Morning as it breaks in Town, [215] which is printed in the 9th Tatler, and is another exquiſite Piece of this Local Poetry:

Careful Obſervers may foretel the Hour
(By ſure Prognoſticks) when to dread a Show'r:
While Rain depends, the penſive Cat gives o'er
Her Frolicks, and purſues her Tail no more.
Returning Home at Night, you'll find the Sink
Strike your offended Senſe with double Stink.
If you be wiſe, then go not far to dine,
You'll ſpend in Coach-hire more than ſave in Wine.
A coming Show'r your ſhooting Corns preſage,
Old Aches throb, your hollow Tooth will rage.
Sauntring in Coffee-houſe is Dulman ſeen;
He damns the Climate, and complains of Spleen.
Mean while the South riſing with dabbled Wings,
A Sable Cloud athwart the Welkin flings,
That ſwill'd more Liquor than it could contain,
And like a Drunkard gives it up again.
Brisk Suſan whips her Linen from the Rope,
While the firſt drizzling Show'r is born aſlope.
Such is that Sprinkling which ſome careleſs Quean
Flirts on you from her Mop, but not ſo clean.
You fly, invoke the Gods; then turning, ſtop
To rail; ſhe ſinging, ſtill whirls on her Mop.
Not yet, the Duſt had ſhun'd th'unequal Strife,
But aided by the Wind, fought ſtill for Life;
And wafted with its Foe by violent Guſt,
'Twas doubtful which was Rain, and which was Duſt.
Ah! where muſt needy Poet ſeek for Aid,
When Duſt and Rain at once his Coat invade;
His only Coat, where Duſt confus'd with Rain
Roughen the Nap, and leave a mingled Stain.
Now in contiguous Drops the Flood comes down,
Threat'ning with Deluge this devoted Town.
To Shops in Crowds the daggled Females fly,
pretend to cheapen Goods, but nothing buy.
[...]he Templer ſpruce, while ev'ry Spout's a-broach,
[...]tays till 'tis fair, yet ſeems to call a Coach.
[216] The tuck'd-up Sempſtreſs walks with haſty Strides,
While Streams run down her oil'd Umbrella's Sides.
Here various Kinds by various Fortunes led,
Commence Acquaintance underneath a Shed.
Triumphant Tories, and deſponding Whigs,
Forget their Fewds, and join to ſave their Wigs.
Box'd in a Chair the Beau impatient ſits,
While Spouts run clatt'ring o'er the Roof by Fits;
And ever and anon with frightful Din
The Leather ſounds, he trembles from within.
So when Troy Chair-men bore the Wooden Steed,
Pregnant with Greeks, impatient to be freed.
(Thoſe Bully Greeks, who, as the Moderns do,
Inſtead of paying Chair-men, run them thro'.)
Laoco'n ſiruck the Outſide with his Spear,
And each impriſon'd Hero quak'd for Fear.
Now from all Parts the ſwelling Kennels flow,
And bear their Trophies with them as they go:
Filth of all Hues and Odours ſeem to tell
What Street they ſail'd from, by their Sight and Smell.
They, as each Torrent drives, with rapid Force,
From Smithfield or St. Pulchre's ſhape their Courſe,
And in huge Conſtuent join'd at Snow-Hill Ridge,
Fall from the Conduit, proue to Holborn-Bridge.
Sweepings from Butchers Stalls, Dung, Guts, and Blood,
Drown'd Puppies, ſtinking Sprats, all drench'd in Mud,
Dead Cats and Turnip-Tops come tumbling down the Flood.

The TATLER. [No 239.
From Tueſd. Octob. 17. to Thurſd. Octob. 19. 1710.

[217]
— Mecum certaſſe feretur.
Ovid.

IT is ridiculous for any Man to criticiſe on the Works of another, who has not diſtinguiſhed himſelf by his own Performances. A Judge would make but an indifferent Figure who had never been known at the Bar. Cicero was reputed the greateſt Orator of his Age and Country before he wrote a Book De Oratore; and Horace the greateſt Poet before he publiſhed his Art of Poetry. This Obſervation ariſes naturally in any one who caſts his Eye upon this laſt mentioned Author, where he will find the Criticiſms placed in the latter End of his Book, that is, after the fineſt Odes and Satyrs in the Latin Tongue.

A Modern, whoſe Name I ſhall not mention, becauſe I would not make a ſilly Paper ſell, was born a Critick and an Examiner, and, like one of the Race of the Serpent's Teeth, came into the World with a Sword in his Hand. His Works put me in mind of the Story that is told of a German Monk, who was taking a Catalogue of a Friend's Library, and meeting with a Hebrew Book in it, entered it under the Title of, A Book that has the Beginning where the End ſhould be. This Author, in the laſt of his Crudities, has amaſſed together a Heap of Quotations, to prove that Horace and Virgil were both of them modeſter Men than my ſelf, and if his Works were to live as long as mine, they might poſſibly give Poſterity a Notion, that Iſaac Bickerſtaff was a very [218] conceited old Fellow, and as vain a Man as either Tully or Sir Francis Bacon. Had this ſerious Writer fallen upon me only, I could have overlooked it; but to ſee Cicero abuſed, is, I muſt confeſs, what I cannot bear. The Cenſure he paſſes upon this great Man runs thus; The Itch of being very Abuſive, is almoſt inſeparable from Vain-Glory. Tully has theſe Two Faults in ſo high a Degree, that nothing but his being the beſt Writer in the World can make Amends for them. The ſcurrilous Wretch goes on to ſay I am as bad as Tully. His Words are theſe; And yet the Tatler, in his Paper of September 26, has out-done him in both. He ſpeaks of himſelf with more Arrogance, and with more Inſolence of others. I am afraid by his Diſcourſe, this Gentleman has no more read Plutarch than he has Tully. If he had, he would have obſerved a Paſſage in that Hiſtorian, wherein he has with great Delicacy diſtinguiſh'd between Two Paſſions which are uſually complicated in Humane Nature, and which an ordinary Writer would not have thought of ſeparating. Not having my Greek Spectacles by me, I ſhall quote the Paſſage Word for Word as I find it tranſlated to my Hand. Nevertheleſs, tho' he was intemperately fond of his own Praiſe, yet he was very free from envying others, and moſt liberally profuſe in commending both the Ancients and his Contemporaries, as is to be underſtood by his Writings; and many of thoſe Sayings are ſtill recorded, as that concerning Ariſtotle, That he was a River of flowing Gold: Of Plato's Dialogue, That if Jupiter were to ſpeak, he would diſcourſe as he did. Theophraſtus he was wont to call his peculiar Delight; and being asked, Which of Demoſthenes his Orations he liked beſt? He anſwered, The longeſt.

And as for the Eminent Men of his own Time, either for Eloquence or Philoſophy, there was not one of them which he did not, by writing or ſpeaking favourably of, render more illuſtrious.

[219] Thus the Critick tells us, That Cicero was exceſſively vain-glorious and abuſive; Plutarch, that he was vain, but not abuſive. Let the Reader believe which of them he pleaſes.

After this he complains to the World, that I call him Names; and that in my Paſſion I ſaid, He was a Flea, a Louſe, an Owl, a Bat, a ſmall Wit, a Scribbler, and a Nibbler. When he has thus beſpoken his Reader's Pity, he falls into that admirable Vein of Mirth, which I ſhall ſet down at length, it being an exquiſite Piece of Raillery, and written in great Gaiety of Heart. After this Liſt of Names, (viz. Flea, Louſe, Owl, Bat, &c.) I was ſurpriſed to hear him ſay, that he has hitherto kept his Temper pretty well; I wonder how he will write when he has loſt his Temper? I ſuppoſe, as he now is very angry and unmannerly, he will then be exceeding courteous and good-humoured. If I can out-live this Raillery, I ſhall be able to bear any Thing.

There is a Method of Criticiſm made Uſe of by this Author, (for I ſhall take Care how I call him a Scribbler again) which may turn into Ridicule any Work that was ever written, wherein there is a Variety of Thoughts: This the Reader will obſerve in the following Words; He (meaning me) is ſo intent upon being ſomething extraordinary, that he ſcarce knows what he would be; and is as fruitful in his Similes, as a Brother of his whom I lately took Notice of. In the Compaſs of a few Lines he compares himſelf to a Fox, to Daniel Burgeſs, to the Knight of the Red Croſs, to an Oak with Ivy about it, and to a great Man with an Equipage. I think my ſelf as much honoured by being joined in this Part of his Paper with the Gentleman whom he here calls my Brother, as I am in the Beginning of it, by being mentioned with Horace and Virgil.

It is very hard that a Man cannot publiſh Ten Papers without ſtealing from himſelf; but to ſhow you that this is only a Knack of Writing, and that [220] the Author is got into a certain Road of Criticiſm, I ſhall ſet down his Remarks on the Works of the Gentleman whom he here glances upon, as they ſtand in his 6th Paper, and deſire the Reader to compare them with the foregoing Paſſage upon mine.

In Thirty Lines his Patron is a River, the Primum Mobile, a Pilot, a Victim, the Sun, any Thing, and Nothing. He beſtows Increaſe, conceals his Source, makes the Machine move, teaches to ſteer, expiates our Offences, raiſes Vapours, and looks larger as he ſets.

What Poem can be ſafe from this Sort of Criticiſm? I think I was never in my Life ſo much offended as at a Wag whom I once met with in a Coffee-houſe: He had in his Hand one of the Miſcellanies, and was reading the following ſhort Copy of Verſes, which, without Flattery to the Author, is (I think) as beautiful in its Kind as any one in the Engliſh Tongue.

Flavia the leaſt and flight eſt Toy
Can with reſiſtleſs Art employ.
This Fan in meaner Hands would prove
An Engine of ſmall Force in Love;
But ſhe with ſuch an Air and Mien,
Not to be told, or ſafely ſeen,
Directs its wanton Motions ſo,
That it wounds more than Cupid's Bow;
Gives Coolneſs to the matchleſs Dame,
To ev'ry other Breaſt a Flame.

When this Coxcomb had done reading them, Heyday! ſays he, What Inſtrument is this that Flavia employs in ſuch a Manner as is not to be told, nor ſafely ſeen? In Ten Lines it is a Toy, a Cupid's Bow, a Fan, and an Engine in Love. It has wanton Motions, it wounds, it cools, and inflames.

Such Criticiſms make a Man of Senſe ſick, and a Fool merry.

[221] The next Paragraph of the Paper we are talking of, falls upon ſome Body whom I am at a Loſs to gueſs at: But I find the whole Invective turns upon a Man who (it ſeems) has been impriſoned for Debt. Whoever he was, I muſt heartily pity him; but at the ſame Time muſt put the Examiner in Mind, that notwithſtanding he is a Critick, he ſtill ought to remember he is a Chriſtian. Poverty was never thought a proper Subject for Ridicule; and I do not remember that I ever met with a Satyr upon a Beggar.

As for thoſe little Retortings of my own Expreſſions, of being dull by Deſign, witty in October, ſhining, excelling, and ſo forth; they are the common Cavils of every Witlin, who has no other Method of ſhowing his Parts, but by little Variations and Repetitions of the Man's Words whom he attacks.

But the Truth of it is, the Paper before me, not only in this Particular, but in its very Eſſence, is like Ovid's Eccho:

— Quae nec reticere loquenti,
Nec prior ipſa loqui didicit. —

I ſhould not have deſerved the Character of a Cenſor, had I not animadverted upon the abovementioned Author by a gentle Chaſtiſement: But I know my Reader will not pardon me, unleſs I declare, that nothing of this Nature for the future (unleſs it be written with ſome Wit) ſhall divert me from my Care of the Publick.

The TATLER. [No 240.
From Thurſd. Octob. 19. to Saturd. Octob. 21. 1710.

[222]
Ad Populum Phaleras. —
Perſ.

I DO not remember that in any of my Lucubrations I have touched upon that uſeful Science of Phyſick, notwithſtanding I have declared my ſelf more than once a Profeſſor of it. I have indeed joined the Study of Aſtrology with it, becauſe I never knew a Phyſician recommend himſelf to the Publick who had not a Siſter Art to embelliſh his Knowledge in Medicine. It has been commonly obſerved in Compliment to the Ingenious of our Profeſſion, that Apollo was God of Verſe as well as Phyſick; and in all Ages the moſt celebrated Practitioners of our Country were the particular Favourites of the Muſes. Poetry to Phyſick is indeed like the Gilding to a Pill; it makes the Art ſhine, and covers the Severity of the Doctor with the Agreeableneſs of the Companion.

The very Foundation of Poety is good Senſe, if we may allow Harace to be a Judge of the Art.

Scribendi recte ſapere eſt, & Principium, & Fons.

And if ſo, we have Reaſon to believe, that the ſame Man who writes well can preſcribe well, if he has applied himſelf to the Study of both. Beſides, when we ſee a Man making Profeſſion of Two different Sciences, it is natural for us to believe he is no Pretender in that which we are not Judges of when we find him skilful in that which we underſtand.

[223] Ordinary Quacks and Charlatans are throughly ſenſible how neceſſary it is to ſupport themſelves by theſe collateral Aſſiſtances, and therefore always lay their Claim to ſome ſupernumerary Accompliſhments which are wholly foreign to their Profeſſion.

About 20 Years ago, it was impoſſible to walk the Streets without having an Advertiſement thruſt into your Hand of a Doctor who was arrived at the Knowledge of the Green and Red Dragon, and had diſcovered the Female Fern Seed. No Body ever knew what this meant; but the Green and Red Dragon ſo amuſed the People, that the Doctor lived very comfortably upon them. About the ſame Time there was paſted a very hard Word upon every Corner of the Streets. This, to the beſt of my Remembrance, was ‘TETRACHYMAGOGON.’ Which drew great Shoals of Spectators about it, who read the Bill that it introduced with unſpeakable Curioſity; and when they were ſick, would have no Body but this learned Man for their Phyſician.

I once received an Advertiſement of one who had ſtudied Thirty Years by Candle-light for the Good of his Countrymen. He might have ſtudied Twice as long by Day-light, and never have been taken Notice of: But Lucubrations cannot be over-valued. There are ſome who have gained themſelves great Reputation for Phyſick by their Birth, as the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son; and others by not being born at all, as the Unborn Doctor, who, I hear, is lately gone the Way of his Patients, having died worth Five Hundred Pounds per Annum, though he was not born to a Halfpenny.

My ingenious Friend Doctor Saffold, ſucceeded my old Contemporary Doctor Lilly in the Studies both of Phyſick and Aſtrology, to which he added [224] that of Poetry, as was to be ſeen both upon the Sign where he lived, and in the Bills which he diſtributed. He was ſucceeded by Doctor Caſe, who eraſed the Verſes of his Predeceſſor out of the Sign-Poſt, and ſubſtituted in their Stead Two of his own, which were as follow:

Within this Place
Lives Doctor Caſe.

He is ſaid to have got more by this Diſtich, than Mr. Dryden did by all his Works. There would be no End of enumerating the ſeveral imaginary Perfections and unaccountable Artifices by which this Tribe of Men enſnare the Minds of the Vulgar, and gain Crowds of Admirers. I have ſeen the whole Front of a Mountebank's Stage from one End to the other faced with Patents, Certificates, Medals, and Great Seals, by which the ſeveral Princes of Europe have teſtified their particular Reſpect and Eſteem for the Doctor. Every great Man with a ſounding Title has been his Patient. I believe I have ſeen Twenty Mountebanks that have given Phyſick to the Czar of Moſcovy. The Great Duke of Tuſcany eſcapes no better. The Elector of Brandenburg was likewiſe a very good Patient.

This great Condeſcenſion of the Doctor draws upon him much Good-Will from his Audience; and it is Ten to One, but if any of them be troubled with an aching Tooth, his Ambition will prompt him to get it drawn by a Perſon who has had ſo many Princes, Kings, and Emperors, under his Hands.

I muſt not leave this Subject without obſerving, that as Phyſicians are apt to deal in Poetry, Apothecaries endeavour to recommend themſelves by Oratory, and are therefore without Controverſy the moſt eloquent Perſons in the whole Britiſh Nation. I would not willingly diſcourage any of the Arts, eſpecially that of which I am an humble Profeſſor; but I muſt confeſs, for the Good of my [225] native Country, I could wiſh there might be a Suſpenſion of Phyſick for ſome Years, that our Kingdom, which has been ſo much exhauſted by the Wars, might have Leave to recruit it ſelf.

As for my ſelf, the only Phyſick which has brought me ſafe to almoſt the Age of Man, and which I preſcribe to all my Friends, is Abſtinence. This is certainly the beſt Phyſick for Prevention, and very often the moſt effectual againſt a preſent Diſtemper. In ſhort, my Recipe is, Take nothing.

Were the Body Politick to be phyſick'd like particular Perſons, I ſhould venture to preſcribe to it after the ſame Manner. I remember when our wholeIſland was ſhaken with an Earthquake ſome Years ago, there was an impudent Mountebank who ſold Pills which (as he told the Country People) were very good againſt an Earthquake. It may perhaps be thought as abſurd to preſcribe a Diet for the allaying Popular Commotions, and National Ferments. But I am verily perſwaded, that if in ſuch a Caſe a whole People were to enter into a Courſe of Abſtinence, and eat nothing but Water-gruel for a Fortnight, it would abate the Rage and Animoſity of Parties, and not a little contribute to the Cure of a diſtracted Nation. Such a Faſt would have a natural Tendency to the procuring of thoſe Ends for which a Faſt is uſually proclaimed. If any Man has a Mind to enter on ſuch a voluntary Abſtinence, it might not be improper to give him the Caution of Pythagoras in particular:

Abſtine a Fabis.
' Abſtain from Beans.

That is, ſay the Interpreters, Meddle not with Elections, Beans having been made Uſe of by the Voters among the Athenians in the Choice of Magiſtrates.

The TATLER. [No 241.
From Saturd. Octob 21. to Tueſd. Octob. 24. 1710.

[26]

A Method of ſpending one's Time agreeably is a Thing ſo little ſtudied, that the common Amuſement of our young Gentlemen (eſpecially of ſuch as are at a Diſtance from thoſe of the firſt Breeding) is Drinking. This Way of Entertainment has Cuſtom of its Side; but as much as it has prevailed, I believe there have been very few Companies that have been guilty of Exceſs this Way, where there have not happened more Accidents which make againſt, than for the Continuance of it. It is very common that Events ariſe from a Debauch which are fatal, and always ſuch as are diſagreeable. With all a Man's Reaſon and good Senſe about him, his Tongue is apt to utter Things out of meer Gaiety of Heart which may diſpleaſe his beſt Friends. Who then would truſt himſelf to the Power of Wine, without ſaying more againſt it, than that it raiſes the Imagination, and depreſſes the Judgment. Were there only this ſingle Conſideration, That we are leſs Maſters of our ſelves when we drink in the leaſt Proportion above the Exigencies of Thirſt; I ſay, were this all that could be objected, it were ſufficient to make us abhor this Vice. But we may go on to ſay, that as he who drinks but a little is not Maſter of himſelf, ſo he who drinks much is a Slave to himſelf. As for my Part, I ever eſteemed a Drunkard of all vicious Perſons the moſt vicious: For if our Actions are to be weighed and conſidered according to the Intention of them, what can we think of him who puts himſelf into a Circumſtance [227] wherein he can have no Intention at all, but incapacitates himſelf for the Duties and Offices of Life, by a Suſpenſion of all his Faculties. If a Man conſidered, that he cannot under the Oppreſſion of Drink be a Friend, a Gentleman, a Maſter, or a Subject; that he has ſo long baniſhed himſelf from all that is dear, and given up all that is ſacred to him, he would even then think of a Debauch with Horror: But when he looks ſtill further, and acknowledges, that he is not only expelled out of all the Relations of Life, but alſo liable to offend againſt them all, What Words can expreſs the Terror and Deteſtation he would have of ſuch a Condition? And yet he owns all this of himſelf who ſays he was drunk laſt Night.

As I have all along perſiſted in it, that all the Vicious in general are in a State of Death, ſo I think I may add to the Non-Exiſtence of Drunkards, that they died by their own Hands. He is certainly as guilty of Suicide who periſhes by a ſlow, as he that is diſpatched by an immediate, Poiſon. In my laſt Lucubration I propoſed the general Uſe of Water-gruel, and hinted, that it might not be amiſs at this very Seaſon: But as there are ſome, whoſe Caſes, in regard to their Families, will not admit of Delay, I have uſed my Intereſt in ſeveral Wards of the City, that the wholeſome Reſtorative above-mentioned may be given in Tavern Kitchens to all the Mornings Draught Men within the Walls when they call for Wine before Noon. For a further Reſtraint and Mark upon ſuch Perſons, I have given Orders, that in all the Offices where Policies are drawn upon Lives, it ſhall be added to the Article which prohibits that the Nominee ſhould croſs the Sea, the Words, Provided alſo, That the above-mentioned A. B. ſhall not drink before Dinner during the Term mentioned in this Indenture.

I am not without Hopes but by this Method I ſhall bring ſome unſizeable Friends of mine into [228] Shape and Breath, as well as others who are languid and conſumptive into Health and Vigour. Moſt of the Self-Murderers whom I yet hinted at, are ſuch as preſerve a certain Regularity in taking their Poiſon, and make it mix pretty well with their Food: But the moſt conſpicuous of thoſe who deſtroy themſelves, are ſuch as in their Youth fall into this Sort of Debauchery, and contract a certain Uneaſineſs of Spirit, which is not to be diverted but by Tippling as often as they can fall into Company in the Day, and conclude with downright Drunkenneſs at Night. Theſe Gentlemen never know the Satisfaction of Youth, but skip the Years of Manhood, and are decrepid ſoon after they are of Age. I was Godfather to one of theſe old Fellows. He is now Three and Thirty, which is the Grand Climacterick of a young Drunkard. I went to viſit the crazy Wretch this Morning, with no other Purpoſe but to rally him under the Pain and Uneaſineſs of being ſober.

But as out Faults are double when they affect others beſides our ſelves, ſo this Vice is ſtill more odious in a married than a ſingle Man. He that is the Husband of a Woman of Honour, and comes Home overloaded with Wine, is ſtill more contemptible in Proportion to the Regard we have to the unhappy Conſort of his Beſtiality. The Imagination cannot ſhape to its ſelf any Thing more monſtrous and unnatural than the Familiarities between Drunkenneſs and Chaſtity. The wretched Aſtraea, who is the Perfection of Beauty and Innocence, has long been thus condemned for Life. The Romantick Tales of Virgins devoted to the Jaws of the Monſters, have nothing in them ſo terrible as the Gift of Aſtraea to that Bacchanal.

The Reflection of ſuch a Match as ſpotleſs Innocence with abandoned Lewdneſs, is what puts this Vice in the worſt Figure it can bear with Regard to others; but when it is looked upon with Reſpect only to the Drunkard himſelf, it has Deformities [229] enough to make it diſagreeable, which may be ſummed up in a Word, by allowing, that he who reſigns his Reaſon, is actually guilty of all that he is liable to from the Want of Reaſon.

P. S. Among many other Enormities, there are Two in the following Letters which I think ſhould be ſuddenly amended; but ſince they are Sins of Omiſſion only, I ſhall not make Remarks upon them till I find the Delinquents perſiſt in their Errors; and the inſerting the Letters themſelves ſhall be all their preſent Admonition.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

SEveral that frequent Divine Service at S. Paul's, as well as my ſelf, having with great Satisfaction obſerved the good Effect which your Animadverſion had on an Exceſs in Performance there; it is requeſted, that you will take Notice of a contrary Fault, which is the unconcerned Silence, and the motionleſs Poſtures of others who come thither. If this Cuſtom prevails, the Congregation will reſemble an Audience at a Play-houſe, or rather a dumb Meeting of Quakers. Your cenſuring ſuch Church-mutes in the Manner you think fit, may make theſe Diſſenters join with us, out of Fear leſt you ſhould further animadvert upon their Non Conformity. According as this ſucceeds, you ſhall hear from,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, B. B.
Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Was the other Day in Company with a Gentleman, who, in reciting his own Qualifications, concluded every Period with theſe Words, The beſt of any Man in England. Thus for Example: He kept the beſt Houſe of any Man in England; he underſtood this, and that, and t'other, [230] the beſt of any Man in England. How harſh and ungrateful ſoever this Expreſſion might ſound to one of my Nation, yet the Gentleman was one whom it no Ways became me to interrupt; but perhaps a new Term put into his By-Words (as they call a Sentence a Man particularly affects) may cure him. I therefore took a Reſolution to apply to you, who, I dare ſay, can eaſily perſwade this Gentleman (whom I cannot believe an Enemy to the Union) to mend his Phraſe, and be hereafter the wiſeſt of any Man in Great Britain. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, Scoto Britannus.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Whereas Mr. Humphrey Trelooby wearing his own Hair, a Pair of Buck-Skin Breeches, a Hunting-Whip, with a new Pair of spurs, has complained to the Cenſor, That on Thurſday laſt he was defrauded of Half a Crown, under Pretence of a Duty to the Sexton for ſeeing the Cathedral of St. Paul, London: It is hereby ordered, That none hereafter require above Sixpence of any Country Gentleman under the Age of Twenty five for that Liberty; and that all which ſhall be received above the ſaid Sum of any Perſon for beholding the Inſide of that Sacred Edifice, be forthwith paid to Mr. John Morphew for the Uſe of Mr. Bickerſtaff, under Pain of further Cenſure on ike above-mentioned Extortion.

The TATLER. [No 242.
From Tueſday Oct. 24. to Turſday Oct. 26. 1710.

[231]
— Quis iniquae
Tam patiens Urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat ſe?
Juv.

IT was with very great Diſpleaſure I heard this Day a Man ſay of a Companion of his with an Air of Approbation, You know Tom never fails of ſaying a ſpightful Thing. He has a great deal of Wit, but Satyr is his particular Talent. Did you mind how he put the young Fellow out of Countenance that pretended to talk to him? Such impertinent Applauſes, which one meets with every Day, put me upon conſidering what true Raillery and Satyr were in themſelves; and this, methought, occurred to me from Reflection upon the great and excellent Perſons that were admired for Talents this Way. When I had ran over ſeveral ſuch in my Thoughts, I concluded, (however unaccountable the Aſſertion might appear at firſt Sight) that Good-Nature was an eſſential Quality in a Satyriſt, and that all the Sentiments which are beautiful in this Way of Writing muſt proceed from that Quality in the Author. Good-Nature produces a Diſdain of all Baſeneſs, Vice, and Folly, which prompts them to expreſs themſelves with Smartneſs againſt the Errors of Men, without Bitterneſs towards their Perſons. This Quality keeps the Mind in Equanimity, and never lets an Offence unſeaſonably throw a Man out of his Character. When Virgil ſaid, He that did not hate Bavius might love Maevius, he [232] was in perfect good Humour, and was not ſo much moved at their Abſurdities, as paſſionately to call them Sots or Blockheads in a direct Invective, but laughed at them with a Delicacy of Scorn, without any Mixture of Anger.

The beſt good Man, with the worſt-natured Muſe, was the Character among us of a Gentleman as famous for his Humanity as his Wit.

The ordinary Subjects for Satyr are ſuch as incite the greateſt Indignation in the beſt Tempers, and conſequently Men of ſuch a Make are the beſt qualified for ſpeaking of the Offences in Humane Life. Theſe Men can behold Vice and Folly when they injure Perſons to whom they are wholly unacquainted, with the ſame Severity as others reſent the Ills they do themſelves. A good-natured Man cannot ſee an over-bearing Fellow put a baſhful Man of Merit out of Countenance, or outſtrip him in the Purſuit of any Advantage; but he is on Fire to ſuccour the Oppreſſed, to produce the Merit of the one, and confront the Impudence of the other.

The Men of the greateſt Character in this Kind were Horace and Juvenal. There is not, that I remember, one ill-natured Expreſſion in all their Writings, not one Sentence of Severity which does not apparently proceed from the contrary Diſpoſition. Whoever reads them, will, I believe, be of this Mind; and if they were read with this View, it may poſſibly perſwade our young Fellows, that they may be very witty Men without ſpeaking ill of any but thoſe who deſerve it: But in the Peruſal of theſe Writers it may not be unneceſſary to conſider, that they lived in very different Times. Horace was intimate with a Prince of the greateſt Goodneſs and Humanity imaginable, and his Court was formed after his Example: Therefore the Faults that Poet falls upon were little Inconſiſtencies in Behaviour, falſe Pretences to Politeneſs, or impertinent [233] Affectations of what Men were not fit for. Vices of a coarſer Sort could not come under his Conſideration, or enter the Palace of Auguſtus. Juvenal on the other Hand lived under Domitian, in whoſe Reign every Thing that was great and noble was baniſhed the Habitations of the Men in Power. Therefore he attacks Vice as it paſſes by in Triumph, not as it breaks into Converſation. The Fall of Empire, Contempt of Glory, and a general Degeneracy of Manners, are before his Eyes in all his Writings. In the Days of Auguſtus, to have talked like Juvenal had been Madneſs, or in thoſe of Domitian like Horace. Morality and Virtue are every where recommended in Horace, as became a Man in a polite Court, from the Beauty, the Propriety, the Convenience, of purſuing them. Vice and Corruption are attacked by Juvenal in a Style which denotes, he fears he ſhall not be heard without he calls to them in their own Language, with a bare-faced Mention of the Villanies and Obſcenities of his Contemporaries.

This accidental Talk of theſe Two great Men runs me from my Deſign, which was to tell ſome Coxcombs that run about this Town with the Name of Smart Satyrical Fellows, that they are by no Means qualified for the Characters they pretend to, of being ſevere upon other Men, for they want Good-Nature. There is no Foundation in them for arriving at what they aim at; and they may as well pretend to flatter, as rail agreeably without being Good-Natured.

There is a certain Impartiality neceſſary to make what a Man ſays bear any Weight with thoſe he ſpeaks to. This Quality, with Reſpect to Men's Errors and Vices, is never ſeen but in Good-natured Men. They have ever ſuch a Frankneſs of Mind, and Benevolence to all Men, that they cannot receive Impreſſions of Unkindneſs without mature Deliberation; and writing [234] or ſpeaking ill of a Man upon Perſonal Conſideratious, is ſo irreparable and mean an Injury, that no o [...] [...]ſſeſſed of this Quality is capable of doing it. But in all Ages there have been Interpreters to A [...]rs when living, of the ſame Genius with the Commentators, into whoſe Hands they fall when dead. I dare ſay, it is impoſſible for any Man of [...]e Wit than one of theſe to take any of the F [...] and twenty Letters, and form out of them a Name to deſcribe the Character of a Vicious Man with greater Life, but one of theſe would immediately cry, Mr. ſuch a one is meant in that Place. But the Truth of it is, Satyriſts deſcribe the Age, and Backbiters aſſign their Deſcriptions to private Men.

In all Terms of Reproof, when the Sentence appears to ariſe from Perſonal Hatred or Paſſion, it is not then made the Cauſe of Mankind, but a Miſunderſtanding between Two Perſons. For this Reaſon, the Repreſentations of a Good-natured Man bear a Pleaſantry in them, which ſhows there is no Malignity at heart, and by Conſequence are attended to by his Hearers or Readers becauſe they are unprejudiced. This Deference is only what is due to him; for no Man thoroughly nettled can ſay a Thing general enough to paſs off with the Air of an Opinion declared, and not a Paſſion gratified. I remember a humorous Fellow at Oxford, when he heard any one had ſpoken ill of him, uſed to ſay, I won't take my Revenge on him till I have forgiven him. What he meant by this, was, that he would not enter upon this Subject till it was grown as indifferent to him as any other; and I have, by this Rule, ſeen him more than once triumph over his Adverſary with an inimitable Spirit and Humour; for he came to the Aſſault againſt a Man full of ſore Places, and he himſelf invulnerable.

[235] There is no Poſſibility of ſucceeding in a Satyrical Way of Writing or Speaking, except a Man throws himſelf quite out of the Queſtion. It is great Vanity to think any one will attend a Thing becauſe it is your Quarrel. You muſt make your Satyr the Concern of Society in general, if you would have it regarded. When it is ſo, the Good-Nature of a Man of Wit will prompt him to many brisk and diſdainful Sentiments and Replies, to which all the Malice in the World will not be able to repartee.

The TATLER. [No 243.
From Thurſd. Octob. 26. to Saturd. Octob. 28. 1710.

Inſert ſe Septus Nebulâ, mirabile dictu
Permedios, miſcotqua Viris, neque cernitur ulli.
Virg.

I Have ſomewhere made Mention of Gyges's Ring, and intimated to my Reader, that it was at preſent in my Poſſeſſion, though I have not ſince made any Uſe of it. The Tradition concerning this Ring is very Romantick, and taken Notice of both by Plato and Tully, who each of them make an admirable Uſe of it for the Advancement of Morality. This Gyges was the Maſter Shepherd to King Candaules. As he was wandering over the Plains of Lydia, he ſaw a great Chaſm in the Earth, and had the Curioſity to enter it. After having deſcended pretty far into it, he found the Statue of an Horſe in Braſs, with Doors in the Sides of it. Upon opening of them, he found the Body of a dead Man bigger than ordinary, with a Ring upon his Finger, [236] which he took off, and put it upon his own. The Virtues of it were much greater than he at firſt imagined; for upon his going into the Aſſembly of Shepherds, he obſerved, that he was inviſible when he turned the Stone of the Ring within the Palm of his Hand, and viſible when he turned it towards his Company. Had Plato and Cicers been as well verſed in the Occult Sciences as I am, they would have found a great deal of Myſtick Learning in this Tradition; but it is impoſſible for an Adept to be underſtood by one who is not an Adept.

As for my ſelf, I have with much Study and Application arrived at this great Secret of making my ſelf inviſible, and by that Means conveying my ſelf where I pleaſed; or to ſpeak in Roſycrucian Lore, I have entered into the Clefts of the Earth, diſcovered the Brazen Horſe, and robbed the dead Giant of his Ring. The Tradition ſays further of Gyges, that by the Means of this Ring he gained Admiſſion into the moſt retired Parts of the Court, and made ſuch Uſe of thoſe Opportunities, that he at length became King of Lydia. For my own Part, I, who have always rather endeavoured to improve my Mind than my Fortune, have turned this Ring to no other Advantage than to get a thorough Inſight into the Ways of Men, and to make ſuch Obſervations upon the Errors of others as may be uſeful to the Publick, whatever Effect they may have upon my ſelf.

About a Week ago, not being able to ſleep, I got up and put on my magical Ring, and with a Thought tranſported my ſelf into a Chamber where I ſaw a Light. I found it inhabited by a celebrated Beauty, though ſhe is of that Species of Women whith we call a Slattern. Her Headdreſs and one of her Shoes lay upon a Chair, her Petticoat in one Corner of the Room, and her Girdle that had a Copy of Verſes made upon [237] it but the Day before, with her Thread Stockings, in the middle of the Floor. I was ſo fooliſhly officious, that I could not forbear gathering up her Cloaths together to lay them upon the Chair that ſtood by her Bed-ſide, when, to my great Surpriſe, after a little Muttering, ſhe cried out, What do you do? Let my Petticoat alone. I was ſtartled at firſt, but ſoon found that ſhe was in a Dream; being one of thoſe who, to uſe Shakeſpear's Expreſſion, are ſo looſe of Thought, that they utter in their Sleep every Thing that paſſes in their Imagination. I left the Apartment of this Female Rake, and went into her Neighbours, where there lay a Male-Coquet. He had a Bottle of Salts hanging over his Head, and upon the Table, by his Bed-ſide, Suckling's Poems, with a little Heap of Black Patches on it. His Snuff Box was within Reach on a Chair: But while I was admiring the Diſpoſition which he made of the ſeveral Parts of his Dreſs, his Slumber ſeemed interrupted by a Pang, that was accompanied by a ſudden Oath, as he turned himſelf over haſtily in his Bed. I did not care for ſeeing him in his nocturnal Pains, and left the Room.

I was no ſooner got into another Bed-Chamber, but I heard very harſh Words uttered in a ſmooth uniform Tone. I was amazed to hear ſo great a Volubility in Reproach, and thought it too coherent to be ſpoken by one aſleep; but upon looking nearer, I ſaw the Head dreſs of the Perſon who ſpoke, which ſhewed her to be a Female with a Man lying by her Side broad awake, and as quiet as a Lamb. I could not but admire his exemplary Patience, and diſcovered by his whole Behaviour, that he was then lying under the Diſcipline of a Curtain-Lecture.

I was entertained in many other Places with this Kind of Nocturnal Eloquence, but obſerved, that moſt of thoſe whom I found awake, were [238] kept ſo either by Envy or by Love. Some of theſe were ſighing, and others curſing, in Soliloquy; ſome hugged their Pillows, and others gnaſhed their Teeth.

The Covetous I likewiſe found to be a very wakeful People. I happened to come into a Room where one of them lay ſick. His Phyſician and his Wife were in cloſe Whiſper near his Bed-ſide. I overheard the Doctor ſay to the poor Gentlewoman, he cannot poſſibly live till Five in the Morning. She received it like the Miſtreſs of a Family prepared for all Events. At the ſame Inſtant came in a Servant Maid, who ſaid, Madam, The Undertaker is below according to your Order. The Words were ſcarce out of her Mouth, when the ſick Man cried out with a feeble Voice, Pray, Doctor, how went Bank-Stock to Day at 'Change? This melancholy Object made me too ſerious for diverting my ſelf further this Way: But as I was going Home, I ſaw a Light in a Garret, and entering into it, heard a Voice crying, And, Hand, Stand, Band, Fann'd, Tann'd. I concluded him by this and the Furniture of his Room to be a Lunatick; but upon liſtening a little longer, perceived it was a Poet, writing an Heroick upon the enſuing Peace.

It was now towards Morning, an Hour when Spirits, Witches, and Conjurers are obliged to retire to their own Apartments, and feeling the Influence of it, I was haſtening Home, when I ſaw a Man had got half Way into a Neighbour's Houſe. I immediately called to him, and turning my Ring, appeared in my proper Perſon. There is ſomething Magiſterial in the Aſpect of the Bickerſtaffs, which made him run away in Confuſion.

As I took a Turn or Two in my own Lodging, I was thinking, that, old as I was, I need not go to Bed alone, but that it was in my Power to marry the fineſt Lady in this Kingdom, if I [239] would wed her with this Ring. For what a Figure would ſhe that ſhould have it make a Viſit, with ſo perfect a Knowledge as this would give her of all the Scandal in the Town? But inſtead of endeavouring to diſpoſe of my ſelf and it in Matrimony, I reſolved to lend it to my loving Friend the Author of the Atalantis, to furniſh a new Secret Hiſtory of Secret Memoirs.

The TATLER. [No 244.
From Saturd. Octob. 28. to Tueſd. Octob. 31. 1710.

Quid voveat dulci Nutricula majus Alumno,
Quam ſapere & fari ut poſſit que ſentiat? —
Hor.

IT is no eaſy Matter when People are advancing in any Thing, to prevent their going too faſt for want of Patience. This happens in nothing more frequently than in the Proſecution of Studies. Hence it is, that we meet Crowds who attempt to be eloquent before they can ſpeak. They affect the Flowers of Rhetorick before they underſtand the Parts of Speech. In the ordinary Converſation of this Town, there are ſo many who can, as they call it, talk well, that there is not One in Twenty that talks to be underſtood. This proceeds from an Ambition to excel, or, as the Term is, to ſhine, in Company. The Matter is not to make themſelves underſtood, but admired. They come together with a certain Emulation, rather than Benevolence. When you fall among ſuch Companions, the ſafe Way is to give your ſelf up, and let the Orators declaim for your Eſteem, and trouble your ſelf [240] no further. It is ſaid, that a Poet muſt be born ſo; but I think it may be much better ſaid of an Orator, eſpecially when we talk of our Town-Poets and Orators; but the Town-Poets are full of Rules and Laws, the Town-Orators go thro' thick and thin, and are, forſooth. Perſons of ſuch eminent natural Parts and Knowledge of the World, that they deſpiſe all Men as unexperienced Scholaſticks who wait for an Occaſion before they ſpeak, or who ſpeak no more than is neceſſary. They had half perſwaded me to go to the Tavern the other Night, but that a Gentleman whiſpered me, Prithee, Iſaac, go with us; there is Tom Varniſh will be there, and he is a Fellow that talks as well as any Man in England.

I muſt confeſs, when a Man expreſſes himſelf well upon any Occaſion, and his falling into an Account of any Subject ariſes from a Deſire to oblige the Company, or from Fulneſs of the Circumſtance it ſelf, ſo that his ſpeaking of it at large is occaſioned only by the Openneſs of a Companion; I ſay, in ſuch a Caſe as this, it is not only pardonable, but agreeable when a Man takes the Diſcourſe to himſelf; but when you ſee a Fellow watch for Opportunities for being Copious, it is exceſſively troubleſome. A Man that ſtammers, if he has Underſtanding, is to be attended with Patience and good Nature; but he that ſpeaks more than he need, has no Right to ſuch an Indulgence. The Man who has a Defect in his Speech takes Pains to come to you, while a Man of a weak Capacity with Fluency of Speech triumphs in out-running you. The Stammerer ſtrives to be fit for your Company; the loquacious Man endeavours to ſhow you, you are not fit for his.

With Thoughts of this Kind do I always enter into that Man's Company who is recommended as a Perſon that talks well; but if I were to [241] chuſe the People with whom I would ſpend my Hours of Converſation, they ſhould be certainly ſuch as laboured no farther than to make themſelves readily and clearly apprehended, and would have Patience and Curioſity to underſtand me. To have good Senſe, and Ability to expreſs it, are the moſt eſſential and neceſſary Qualities in Companions. When Thoughts riſe in us fit to utter, among familiar Friends there needs but very little Care in cloathing them.

Urbanus is, I take it, a Man one might live with whole Years, and enjoy all the Freedom and Improvement imaginable, and yet be inſenſible of a Contradiction to you in all the Miſtakes you can be guilty of. His great good Will to his Friends has produced in him ſuch a general Deference in his Diſcourſe, that if he differs from you in his Senſe of any Thing, he introduces his own Thoughts by ſome agreeable Circumlocution, or he has often obſerved ſuch and ſuch a Circumſtance that made him of another Opinion. Again, where another would be apt to ſay, This I am confident of, I may pretend to judge of this Matter as well as any Body; Urbanus ſays, I am verily perſwaded, I believe one may conclude. In a Word, there is no Man more clear in his Thoughts and Expreſſions than he is, or ſpeaks with greater Diffidence. You ſhall hardly find one Man of any Conſideration, but you ſhall obſerve one of leſs Conſequence form himſelf after him. This happens to Urbanus; but the Man who ſteals from him almoſt every Sentiment he utters in a whole Week, diſguiſes the Theft, by carrying it with quite a different Air. Umbratilis knows Urbanus's doubtful Way of Speaking proceeds from Good-Nature and Good-Breeding, and not from Uncertainty in his Opinions. Umbratilis therefore has no more to do but repeat the Thoughts of Urbanus in a poſitive Manner, and appear to the Undiſcerning [242] a wiſer Man than the Perſon from whom he borrows: But thoſe who know him, can ſee the Servant in his Maſter's Habit; and the more he ſtruts, the leſs do his Clothes appear his own.

In Converſation, the Medium is neither to affect Silence or Eloquence; not to value our Approbation, and to endeavour to excel us who are of your Company, are equal Inquiries. The great Enemies therefore to good Company, and thoſe who tranſgreſs moſt againſt the Laws of Equality, (which is the Life of it) are, the Clown, the Wit, and the Pedant. A Clown, when he has Senſe, is conſcious of his Want of Education, and with an aukward Bluntneſs hopes to keep himſelf in Countenance, by overthrowing the Uſe of all polite Behaviour. He takes Advantage of the Reſtraint good Breeding lays upon others not to offend him to treſpaſs againſt them, and is under the Man's own Shelter while he intrudes upon him. The Fellows of this Claſs are very frequent in the Repetition of the Words, Rough and Manly. When theſe People happen to be by their Fortunes of the Rank of Gentlemen, they defend their other Abſurdities by an impertinent Courage; and to help out the Defect of their Behaviour, add their being dangerous to their being diſagreeable. This Gentleman (though he diſpleaſes, profeſſes to do ſo, and knowing that, dares ſtill go on to do ſo) is not ſo painful a Companion as he who will pleaſe you againſt your Will, and reſolves to be a Wit.

This Man upon all Occaſions, and whoever he falls in Company with, talks in the ſame Circle, and in the ſame Round of Chat which he has learned at one of the Tables of this Coffee-houſe. As Poetry is in it ſelf an Elevation above ordinary and common Sentiments, ſo there is no Fop is ſo very near a Mad-man in indifferent Company as a Poetical one. He is not apprehenſive that the [243] Generality of the World are intent upon the Buſineſs of their own Fortune and Profeſſion, and have as little Capacity as Curioſity to enter into Matters of Ornament or Speculation. I remember at a full Table in the City, one of theſe ubiquitary Wits was entertaining the Company with a Soliloquy (for ſo I call it when a Man talks to thoſe who do not underſtand him) concerning Wit and Humour. An honeſt Gentleman who ſate next to me, and was worth Half a Plumb, ſtared at him, and obſerving there was ſome Senſe as he thought, mixed with his Impertinence, whiſpered me, Take my Word for it, this Fellow is more Knave than Fool. This was all my good Friend's Applauſe of the wittieſt Man of Talk that I was ever preſent at, which wanted nothing to make it excellent but that there was no Occaſion for it.

The Pedant is ſo obvious to Ridicule, that it would be to be one to offer to explain him. He is a Gentleman ſo well known, that there is none but thoſe of his own Claſs who do not laugh at and avoid him. Pedantry proceeds from much Reading and little Underſtanding. A Pedant among Men of Learning and Senſe, is like an ignorant Servant giving an Account of a polite Converſation. You may find he has brought with him more than could have entered into his Head without being there, but ſtill that he is not a Bit wiſer than if he had not been there at all.

The TATLER. [No. 245.
From Tueſd. Octob. 31. to Thurſd. Nov. 2. 1710.

[244]

THE Lady hereafter mentioned having come to me in very great Haſt, and paid me much above the uſual Fee as a Cunning-Man to find her ſtolen Goods, and alſo having approved my late Diſcourſe of Advertiſements, obliged me to draw up this, and inſert it in the Body of my Paper.

ADVERTISEMENT.

WHereas Bridget Howd'ee, late Servant to the Lady Fardingale, a ſhort, thick, lively, hard-favoured Wench, of about Twenty nine Years of Age, her Eyes ſmall and bleared, her Noſe very broad at Bottom, and turning up at the End, her Mouth wide, and Lips of an unuſual Thickneſs, Two Teeth out before, the reſt black and uneven, the Tip of her Left Ear being of a Mouſe-Colour, her Voice loud and ſhrill, quick of Speech, and ſomething of a Welch Accent; withdrew her ſelf on Wedneſday laſt from her Ladyſhip's Dwelling-Houſe, and, with the Help of her Conſorts, carried off the following Goods of her ſaid Lady, viz. A thick wadded Callico Wrapper, a Musk-coloured Velvet Mantle lined with Squirrel-Skins, Eight Night-Shifts, Four Pair of Silk-Stockings curiouſly derned, Six Pair of Laced Shoes, new and old, with the Heels of half Two Inches higher than their Fellows; a Quilted Petticoat of the largeſt Size, and one of Canvas with Whalebone Hoops; Three Pair of Stays, boulſtered below the Left [245] Shoulder; Two Pair of Hips of the neweſt Faſhion, Six round-about Aprons with Pockets, and Four ſtriped Muſlin Night-Rails very little frayed; a Silver Pot for Coffee or Chocolate, the Lid much bruiſed; a broad-brim'd flat Silver Plate for Sugar with Rheniſh Wine, a Silver Ladle for Plumb-Porridge; a Silver Cheefe-Toaſter with Three Tongues, an Ebony Handle, and Silvering at the End; a Silver Poſnet to butter Eggs; One Cawdle and Two Cordial-Water Cups, Two Coco Cups, and an Oſtridge's Egg, with Rims and Feet of Silver; a Marrow Spoon, with a Scoop at the other End; a Silver Orange Strainer, Eight Sweetmeat Spoons made with Forks at the End, an Aggat-Handle Knife and Fork in a Sheath, a Silver Tongue-Scraper, a Silver Tobacco-Box, with a Tulip graved on the Top; and a Bible bound in Shagreen, with gilt Leaves and Claſps, never opened but once. Alſo a ſmall Cabinet, with Six Drawers inlaid with red Tortoiſe-ſhell, and Braſs gilt Ornaments at the Four Corners, in which were Two Leather Forehead-Cloths, Three Pair of oiled Dogskin Gloves, Seven Cakes of Superfine Spaniſh Wool, half a Dozen of Portugal Diſhes, and a Quire of Paper from thence; Two Pair of brandnew Plumpers, Four Black-lead Combs. Three Pair of faſhionable Eye-brows, Two Sets of Ivory Teeth, little the worſe for wearing, and One Pair of Box for common Uſe; Adam and Eve in Bugle-Work, without Fig-Leaves, upon Canvas, curiouſly wrought with her Ladyſhip's own Hand; ſeveral Filagrain Curioſities; a Crochet of 122 Diamonds, ſet ſtrong and deep in Silver, with a Rump Jewel after the ſame Faſhion; Bracelets of braided Hair, Pomander, and Seed-Pearl; a large old Purple Velvet Purſe embroidered, and ſhutting with a Spring, containing Two Pictures in Miniature, the Features viſible; a broad thick Gold Ring with a Hand in [246] Hand graved upon it, and within this Poſie, While Life does laſt, I'll hold thee faſt; another ſet round with ſmall Rubies and Sparks, Six wanting; another of Turkey Stone cracked through the Middle; an Elizabeth and Four Jacobus's, one Guinea the firſt of the Coin, an Angel with a Hole bored through, a broken Half of a Spaniſh Piece of Gold, a Crown-Piece with the Breeches, an old Ninepence bent both Ways by Lilly the Almanack-maker for Luck at Langteraloo, and Twelve of the Shells called Black-moor's Teeth; one ſmall Amber Box with Apoplectick Balſam, and one Silver gilt of a larger Size for Caſhu and Carraway-Comfits, to be taken at long Sermons, the Lid enamelled, repreſenting a Cupid fiſhing for Hearts, with a Piece of Gold on his Hook; over his Head this Rhime, Only with Gold you me ſhall hold. In the lower Drawer was a large new Gold Repeating Watch, made by a Frenchman; a Gold Chain, and all the proper Appurtenances hung upon Steel Swivels, to wit, Lockets with the Hair of dead and living Lovers, Seals with Arms, Emblems and Devices cut in Cornelian, Aggat, and Onyx, with Cupids, Hearts, Darts, Altars, Flames, Rocks, Pickaxes, Roſes, Thorns, and Sun-Flowers; as alſo Variety of ingenious French Motto's; together with Gold Etuys for Quills, Sciſſars, Needles, Thimbles, and a Spunge dipped in Hungary Water, left but the Night before by a young Lady going upon a Frolick Incog. There was alſo a Bundle of Letters, dated between the Years 1670 and 1682, moſt of them figned Philander, the reſt Strephon, Amyntas, Corydon, and Adonis; together with a Collection of Receipts to make Paſtes for the Hands, Pomatums, Lip-Salves, White Pots, Beautifying Creams, Water of Talk, and Frog Spawn Water; Decoctions for clearing the Complexion, and an approved Medicine to procure Abortion.

[247] Whoever can diſcover the aforeſaid Goods, ſo that they may be had again, ſhall have Fifty Guinea's for the Whole, or proportionable for any Part. N. B. Her Ladyſhip is pleaſed to promiſe Ten Pounds for the Packet of Letters over and above, or Five for Philander's only, being her Firſt Love. My Lady beſtows thoſe of Strephon to the Finder, being ſo written, that they may ſerve to any Woman who reads them.

POSTSCRIPT.

As I am Patron of Perſons who have no other Friend to apply to, I cannot ſuppreſs the following Complaint.

SIR,

I Am a Black-moor Boy, and have, by my Lady's Order, been chriſtened by the Chaplain. The good Man has gone further with me, and told me a great deal of good News; as, that I am as good as my Lady herſelf as I am a Chriſtian, and many other Things; But for all this, the Parrat who came over with me from our Country is as much eſteemed by her as I am. Beſides this, the Shock-Dog has a Collar that coſt almoſt as much as mine. I deſire alſo to know, whether now I am a Chriſtian, I am obliged to dreſs like a Turk, and wear a Turbant. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, POMPEY.

The TATLER. [No 246.
From Thurſday Nov. 2. to Saturday Nov. 4. 1710.

[248]
— Vitiis nemo ſine naſcitur, optimus ille
Qui minimis urgetur. —
Hor.

WHen one conſiders the Turn which Converſation takes in almoſt every Set of Acquaintance, Club or Aſſembly, in this Town or Kingdom, one cannot but obſerve, that in ſpight of what I am every Day ſaying, and all the Moral Writers ſince the Beginning of the World have ſaid, the Subject of Diſcourſe is generally upon one another's Faults. This in a great Meaſure proceeds from Self-Conceit, which were to be endured in one or other individual Perſon; but the Folly has ſpread it ſelf almoſt over all the Species; and one cannot only ſay, Tom, Jack, or Will, but in general, That Man is a Coxcomb. From this Source it is, that any Excellence is faintly received, any Imperfection unmercifully expoſed. But if Things were put in a true Light, and we would take Time to conſider that Man in his very Nature is an imperfect Being, our Senſe of this Matter would be immediately altered, and the Word Imperfection would not carry an unhinder Idea than the Word Humanity. It is a pleaſant Story, that we, forſooth, who are the only imperfect Creatures in the Univerſe, are the only Beings that will not allow of Imperfection. Some Body has taken Notice, that we ſtand in the Middle of Exiſtencies, and are by this one Circumſtance the moſt unhappy of all others. The Brutes are guided by Inſtinct, and know no [249] Sorrow; the Angels have Knowledge, and they are happy; but Men are govern'd by Opinion, which is I know not what Mixture of Inſtinct and Knowledge, and are neither indolent nor happy. It is very obſervable, that Criticks are a People between the Learned and the Ignorant, and by that Situation enjoy the Tranquility of neither. As Criticks ſtand among Men, ſo do Men in general between Brutes and Angels. Thus every Man as he is a Critick and a Coxcomb, till improved by Reaſon and Speculation, is ever forgetting himſelf, and laying open the Faults of others.

At the ſame Time that I am talking of the Cruelty of urging People's Faults with Severity, I cannot but bewail ſome which Men are guilty of for want of Admonition. Theſe are ſuch as they can eaſily mend, and no Body tells them of; for which Reaſon I ſhall make Uſe of the Penny-Poſt, (as I have with Succeſs to ſeveral young Ladies about turning their Eyes, and holding up their Heads) to certain Gentlemen whom I remark habitually guilty of what they may reform in a Moment. There is a fat Fellow whom I have long remarked wearing his Breaſt open in the Midſt of Winter, out of an Affectation of Youth. I have therefore ſent him juſt now the following Letter in my Phyſical Capacity.

SIR,

FRom the Twentieth Inſtant to the Firſt of May next, both Days incluſive, I beg of you to button your Waſtcoat from your Collar to your Waſtband. I am

Your moſt humble-Servant, Iſaac Bickerſtaff, Philomath.

There is a very handſome well-ſhaped Youth that frequents the Coffee-houſes about Charing-Croſs, [250] and ties a very pretty Riband with a Croſs of Jewels at his Breaſt. This being ſomething new, and a Thing in which the Gentleman may offend the Heralds-Office, I have addreſſed my ſelf to him as I am Cenſor:

Dear Countryman,

WAS that Enſign of Honour, which you wear, given you by a Prince or a Lady that you have ſerved? If you bear it as an abſent Lover, pleaſe to hang it on a black Riband; if as a rewarded Soldier, you may have my Licence to continue the red.

Your Faithful Servant, Bickerſtaff, Cenſor.

Theſe little Intimations do great Service, and are very uſeful, not only to the Perſons themſelves, but to inform others how to conduct themſelves towards them.

Inſtead of this honeſt private Method, or a Friendly one Face to Face, of acquainting People with Things in their Power to explain or amend, the uſual Way among People is to take no Notice of Things you can help, and nevertheleſs expoſs you for thoſe you cannot.

Plumbeus and Levis are conſtantly in each others Company: They would, if they took proper Methods, be very agreeable Companions; but they ſo extravagantly aim at what they are unfit for, and each of them rallies the other ſo much in the wrong Place, that inſtead of doing each other the Offices of Friends, they do but inſtruct the reſt of the World to laugh at them with more Knowledge and Skill. Plumbeus is o [...] a ſaturnine and ſullen Complexion; Levis, of a mercurial and airy Diſpoſition. Both theſe Gentlemen have but very ſlow Parts, but would mak [...] a very good Figure, did they purſue what they ought. If Plumbeus would take to Buſineſs, h [...] [251] would in a fews Years know the Forms of Orders ſo well, as to direct and dictate with ſo much Eaſe, as to be thought a ſolid, able, and at the ſame Time, a ſure Man of Diſpatch. Levis, with a little Reading and coming more into Company, would ſoon be able to write a Song, or lead up a Country-Dance. Inſtead of theſe proper Purſuits, in Obedience to their reſpective Genius's, Plumbeus endeavours to be the Man of Pleaſure, and Levis the Man of Buſineſs. This appears in their Speech, and in their Dreſs: Plumbeus is ever egregiouſly fine, and talking ſomething like Wit; Levis is ever extremely grave, and with a ſilly Face repeating Maxims. Theſe Two pardon each other for affecting what each is incapable of, the one to be wiſe, and the other gay; but are extremely critical in their Judgments of each other in their Way towards what they pretend to, Plumbeus acknowledges Levis a Man of a great Reach, becauſe it is what Plumbeus never cared for being thought himſelf, and Levis allows Plumbeus to be an agreeable Rake for the ſame Reaſon. Now were theſe dear Friends to be free with each other as they ought to be, they would change Characters, and be both as commendable, inſtead of being as ridiculous, as their Capacities will admit of.

Were it not too grave, all that I would urge on this Subject is, that Men are bewildered when they conſider themſelves in any other View than that of Strangers, who are in a Place where it is no great Matter whether they can, or unreaſonable to expect they ſhould, have every Thing about them as well as at their own Home. This Way of Thinking is, perhaps, the only one that can put this Being into a proper Poſture for the Eaſe of Society. It is certain, this would reduce all Faults into thoſe which proceed from Malice or Diſhoneſty: It would quite change our Manner of beholding one another, and nothing that was [252] not below a Man's Nature would be below his Character. The Arts of this Life would be proper Advances towards the next; and a very good Man would be a very fine Gentleman. As it now is, Humane Life is inverted, and we have not learned half the Knowledge of this World before we are dropping into another. Thus, inſtead of the Raptures and Contemplations which naturally attend a well-ſpent Life from the Approach of Eternity, even we old Fellows are afraid of the Ridicule of thoſe who are born ſince us, and aſhamed not to underſtand, as well as peeviſh to reſign, the Mode, the Faſhion, the Ladies, the Fiddles, the Balls, and what not. Dick Reptile, who does not want Humour, is very pleaſant at our Club when he ſees an old Fellow touchy at being laughed at for any Thing that is not in the Mode, and bawls in his Ear, Prithee don't mind him; tell him thou art mortal.

The TATLER. [No 247.
From Saturd. Nov. 4. to Tueſd. Nov. 7. 1710.

By Jenny Diſtaff, Half-Siſter to Mr. Bickerſtaff.
Aedepol, uae nos aeque ſumus omnes inviſae
Viris Propter paucas, quae omnes faciunt dignae ut videamur male.
Ter.

MY Brother having written the above Piece of Latin, deſired me to take Care of the reſt of the enſuing Paper. Towards this he bid me anſwer the following Letter, and ſaid, Nothing I could write properly on the Subject of it would be diſagreeable to the Motto. It is the Cauſe of my Sex, and I therefore enter upon it [253] with great Alacrity. The Epiſtle is literally thus:

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Preſume to lay before you an Affair of mine, and begs you'le be very ſinceir in giving me your Judgment and Advice in this Matter, which is as followes:

A very agreeable young Gentleman, who is endowed with all the good Quallities that can make a Man compleat, has this long Time maid Love to me in the moſt paſſionat Manner that was poſable. He has left nothing unſaid to make me belive his Affections real; and in his Letters expreſſed himſelf ſo hanſomly, and ſo tenderly, that I had all the Reaſon imaginable to belive him ſinceir. In ſhort, he poſitively has promiſed me he would marry me: But I find all he ſaid nothing; for when the Queſtion was put to him, he wouldn't; but ſtill would continue my Humble Servant, and would go on at the ould Rate, repeating the Aſſurences of his Fidelity (and at the ſame Time has none in him). He now writs to me in the ſame endearing Style he uſt to do, would have me ſpake to no Man but himſelf. His Eſtate is in his oune Hand, his Father being dead. My Fortune at my oune Diſpoſal, (mine being alſo dead) and to the full anſwers his Eſtate. Pray, Sir, be ingeinous, and tell me cordially, if you don't think I ſhall do my ſelf an Injurey if I keep Company or a Coroſpondance any longer with this Gentleman. I hope you'le faver an honeſt North Briton (as I am) with your Advice in this Amoure; for I am reſolved juſt to folow your Directions. Sir, you'le do me a ſenſable Pleaſure, and very great Honour, if you'le pleas to inſirt this poor Scrole, with your Anſwer to it, in your Tatler. Pray fail not to give [254] me your Anſwer; for on it depends the Happineſs of

Diſconſolat Almeira.
MADAM,

I Have frequently read over your Letter, and am of Opinion, that as lamentable as it is, it is the moſt common of any Evil that attends our Sex. I am very much troubled for the Tenderneſs you expreſs towards your Lover, but rejoice at the ſame Time that you can ſo far ſurmount your Inclination for him as to reſolve to diſmiſs him when you have my Brother's Opinion for it. His Senſe of the Matter, he deſired me to communicate to you. Oh Almeira! The common Failing of our Sex is to value the Merit of our Lovers rather from the Grace of their Addreſs, than the Sincerity of their Hearts. He has expreſſed himſelf ſo handſomely! Can you ſay, that after you have Reaſon to doubt his Truth? It is a very melancholy Thing, that in this Circumſtance of Love (which is the moſt important of all others in Female Life) we Women, who are, they ſay, always weak, are ſtill weakeſt. The true Way of valuing a Man, is to conſider his Reputation among the Men: For Want of this neceſſary Rule towards her Conduct, when it is too late, we find our ſelves married to the Outcaſts of that Sex; and it is generally from being diſagreeable among Men, that Fellows endeavour to make themſelves pleaſing to us. The little Accompliſhments of coming into a Room with a good Air, and telling while they are with us what we cannot hear among our ſelves, uſually make up the whole of a Woman's Man's Merit. But if we, when we began to reflect upon our Lover, in the firſt Place conſidered what Figures they make in the Camp, at the Bar, on the 'Change, in their Country, or at Court, we ſhould [255] behold them in quite another View than at preſent.

Were we to behave our ſelves according to this Rule, we ſhould not have the juſt Imputation of favouring the ſillieſt of Mortals, to the great Scandal of the wiſeſt, who value our Favour as it advances their Pleaſure, not their Reputation. In a Word, Madam, if you would judge aright in Love, you muſt look upon it as in a Caſe of Friendſhip. Were this Gentleman treating with you for any Thing but your ſelf, when you had conſented to his Offer, if he fell off, you would call him a Cheat and an Impoſtor. There is therefore nothing left for you to do, but to deſpiſe him and your ſelf for doing with Regret.

I am, MADAM, &c.

I have heard it often argued in Converſation, that this Evil Practice is owing to the perverted Taſt of the Wits in the laſt Generation. A Libertine on the Throne could very eaſily make the Language and the Faſhion turn his own Way. Hence it is, that Woman is treated as a Miſtreſs, and not a Wife. It is from the Writings of thoſe Times, and the traditional Accounts of the Debauches of their Men of Pleaſure, that the Coxcombs now-a-days take upon them, forſooth, to be falſe Swains and perjured Lovers. Methinks I feel all the Woman riſe in me, when I reflect upon the nauſeous Rogues that pretend to deceive us. Wretches, that can never have it in their Power to over-reach any Thing living but their Miſtreſſes! In the Name of Goodneſs, if we are deſigned by Nature as ſuitable Companions to the other Sex, Why are we not treated accordingly? If we have Merit, as ſome allow, Why is it not as baſe in Men to injure us as one another? If we are the Inſignificants that others call us, Where is [256] the Triumph in deceiving us? But when I look at the Bottom of this Diſaſter, and recollect the many of my Acquaintance whom I have known in the ſame Condition with the Northern Laſs that occaſions this Diſcourſe, I muſt own I have ever found the Perfidiouſneſs of Men has been generally owing to ourſelves, and we have contributed to our own Deceit. The Truth is, we do not conduct our ſelves as we are courted, but as we are inclined. When we let our Imaginations take this unbridled Swing, it is not he that acts beſt is moſt lovely, but he that is moſt lovely acts beſt. When our humble Servants make their Addreſſes, we do not keep our ſelves enough diſingaged to be Judges of their Merit; and we ſeldom give our Judgment of our Lover, till we have loſt our Judgment of him.

While Clarinda was paſſionately attended and addreſſed to by Strephon, who is a Man of Senſe and Knowledge in the World; and Caſſio, who has a plentiful Fortune and an excellent Underſtanding, ſhe fell in Love with Damon at a Ball: From that Moment ſhe that was before the moſt reaſonable Creature of all my Acquaintance, cannot hear Strephon ſpeak, but it is ſomething ſo out of the Way of Ladies Converſation: And Caſſio has never ſince opened his Mouth before us, but ſhe whiſpers me, How ſeldom do Riches and Senſe go together? The Iſſue of all this is, that for the Love of Damon, who has neither Experience, Underſtanding, or Wealth, ſhe deſpiſes thoſe Advantages in the other Two which ſhe finds wanting in her Lover; or elſe thinks he has them for no Reaſon but becauſe he is her Lover. This and many other Inſtances may be given in this Town; but I hope thus much may ſuffice to prevent the Growth of ſuch Evils at Edinburgh.

The TATLER. [No 248.
From Tueſday Nov. 7. to Thurſday Nov. 9. 1710.

[257]
By Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq
— Media ſeſe tulit obvia Silva
Virginis Os Habitumque gerens. —
Virg.

IT may perhaps appear ridiculous; but I muſt confeſs, this laſt Summer as I was riding in Enfield Chaſe, I met a young Lady whom I could hardly get out of my Head, and for ought I know my Heart, ever ſince. She was mounted on a Pad, with a very well-fancied Furniture. She ſate her Horſe with a very graceful Air; and when I ſaluted her with my Hat, ſhe bowed to me ſo obligingly, that whether it was her Civility or Beauty that touched me ſo much, I know not, but I am ſure I ſhall never forget her. She dwells in my Imagination in a Figure ſo much to her Advantage, that if I were to draw a Picture of Youth, Health, Beauty, or Modeſty, I ſhould repreſent any or all of them in the Perſon of that young Woman.

I do not find that there are any Deſcriptions in the ancient Poets ſo beautiful as thoſe they draw of Nymphs in their Paſtoral Dreſſes and Exerciſes. Virgil gives Venus the Habit of a Spartan Huntreſs when ſhe is to put Aeneas in his Way, and relieve his Cares with the moſt agreeable Object imaginable. Diana and her Train are always deſcribed as Inhabitants of the Woods, and Followers of the Chaſe. To be well diverted, is the ſafeſt Guard to Innocence; and, methinks, it [258] ſhould be one of the firſt Things to be regarded among People of Condition to find out proper Amuſements for young Ladies. I cannot but think this of Riding might eaſily be revived among them, when they conſider how much it muſt contribute to their Beauty. This would lay up the beſt Portion they could bring into a Family, a good Stock of Health, to tranſmit to their Poſterity. Such a charming Bloom as this gives the Countenance, is very much preferable to the real or affected Feebleneſs or Softneſs, which appear in the Faces of our modern Beauties.

The Comedy, called, The Ladies Cure, repreſents the Affectation of wan Looks and languid Glances to a very entertaining Extravagance. There is, as the Lady in the Play complains, ſomething ſo robuſt in perfect Health, that it is with her a Point of Breeding and Delicacy to appear in publick with a ſickly Air. But the natural Gaiety and Spirit which ſhine in the Complexion of ſuch as form to themſelves a Sort of diverting Induſtry by chuſing Recreations that are Exerciſes, ſurpaſs all the falſe Ornaments and Graces that can be put on by applying the whole Diſpenſary of a Toilet. An healthy Body and a chearful Mind give Charms as irreſiſtible as inimitable. The Beauteous Dictynna, who came to Town laſt Week, has from the conſtant Proſpect in a delicious Country, and the moderate Exerciſe and Journeys in the Viſits ſhe made round it, contracted a certain Life in her Countenance which will in vain employ both the Painters and Poets to repreſent. The becoming Negligence in her Dreſs, the ſevere Sweetneſs of her Looks, and a certain innocent Boldneſs in all her Behaviour, are the Effect of the active Recreations I am talking of.

But inſtead of ſuch or any other as innocent and pleaſing Method of paſſing away their Time with Alacrity, we have many in Town who [259] ſpend their Hours in an indolent State of Body and Mind, without either Recreations or Reflections. I am apt to believe, there are ſome Parents imagine their Daughters will be accompliſhed enough, if nothing interrupts their Growth or their Shape. According to this Method of Education, I could name you Twenty Families, where all the Girls hear of in this Life is, That it is Time to riſe and to come to Dinner; as if they were ſo inſignificant as to be wholly provided for when they are fed and cloathed.

It is with great Indignation that I ſee ſuch Crowds of the Female World loſt to humane Society, and condemned to a Lazineſs, which makes Life paſs away with leſs Reliſh than in the hardeſt Labour. Paleſtris in her Drawing-Room, is ſupported by Spirits to keep off the Returns of Spleen and Melancholy, before ſhe can get over half the Day for want of ſomething to do, while the Wench in the Kitchen ſings and ſcowrs from Morning to Night.

The next diſagreeable Thing to a lazy Lady, is a very buſy one. A Man of Buſineſs in good Company, who gives an Account of his Abilities and Diſpatches, is hardly more inſupportable than her they call a Notable Woman, and a Manager. Lady Goodday, where I viſited the other Day at a very polite Circle, entertained a great Lady with a Recipe for a Poultice, and gave us to underſtand, that ſhe had done extraordinary Cures ſince ſhe was laſt in Town. It ſeems a Countryman had wounded himſelf with his Sithe as he was Mowing; and we were obliged to hear of her Charity, her Medicine, and her Humility, in the harſheſt Tone, and courſeſt Language imaginable.

What I would requeſt in all this Prattle is, that our Females would either let us have their Perſons or their Minds in ſuch Perfection as Nature deſigned them.

[260] The Way to this is, that thoſe who are in the Quality of Gentlewomen ſhould propoſe to themſelves ſome ſuitable Method of paſſing away their Time. This would furniſh them with Reflections and Sentiments proper for the Companions of reaſonable Men, and prevent the unnatural Marriages which happen every Day between the moſt accompliſhed Women, and the verieſt Oafs; the worthieſt Men, and the moſt inſignificant Females. Were the general Turn of Womens Education of another Kind than it is at preſent, we ſhould want one another for more Reaſons than we do as the World now goes. The common Deſign of Parents is to get their Girls off as well as they can, and make no Conſcience of putting into our Hands a Bargain for our whole Life, which will make our Hearts ake every Day of it.

I ſhall therefore take this Matter into ſerious Conſideration, and will propoſe, for the better Improvement of the Fair Sex, a Female Library. This Collection of Books ſhall conſiſt of ſuch Authors as do not corrupt while they divert, but ſhall tend more immediately to improve them, as they are Women. They ſhall be ſuch as ſhall not hurt a Feature by the Auſterity of their Reflections, nor cauſe one impertinent Glance by the Wantonneſs of them. They ſhall all tend to advance the Value of their Innocence as Virgins, improve their Underſtanding as Wives, and regulate their Tenderneſs as Parents. It has been very often ſaid in theſe Lucubrations, that the Ideas which moſt frequently paſs through our Imaginations, leave Traces of themſelves in our Countenances. There ſhall be a ſtrict Regard had to this in my Female Library, which ſhall be furniſhed with nothing that ſhall give Supplies to Oſtentation or Impertinence, but the whole ſhall be ſo digeſted for the Uſe of my Students, that they ſhall not go out of Character in their Enquiries, but their Knowledge appear only a cultivated Innocence.

The TATLER. [No 249.
From Thurſday Nov. 9. to Saturday Nov. 11. 1710.

[261]
Per varios Caſus, per tot Diſcrimina Rerum,
Tendimus. —
Virg.

I Was laſt Night viſited by a Friend of mine who has an inexhauſtible Fund of Diſcourſe, and never fails to entertain his Company with a Variety of Thoughts and Hints that are altogether new and uncommon. Whether it were in Complaiſance to my Way of Living, or his real Opinion, he advanced the following Paradox, That it required much greater Talents to fill up and become a retired Life, than a Life of Buſineſs. Upon this Occaſion he rallied very agreeably the buſie Men of the Age, who only valued themſelves of being in Motion, and paſſing through a Series of trifling and inſignificant Actions. In the Heat of his Diſcourſe, ſeeing a Piece of Money lying on my Table, I defie (ſays he) any of theſe active Perſons to produce half the Adventures that this Twelvepenny-Piece has been engaged in, were it poſſible for him to give us an Account of his Life.

My Friend's Talk made ſo odd an Impreſſion upon my Mind, that ſoon after I was a-Bed I fell inſenſibly into a moſt unaccountable Reſverie, that had neither Moral nor Deſign in it, and cannot be ſo properly called a Dream as a Delirium.

Methoughts the Shilling that lay upon the Table reared it ſelf upon its Edge, and turning the Face towards me, opened its Mouth, and in a ſoft [262] Silver Sound gave me the following Account of his Life and Adventures:

I was born, ſays he, on the Side of a Mountain, near a little Village of Peru, and made a Voyage to England in an Ingot, under the Convoy of Sir Francis Drake. I was, ſoon after my Arrival, taken out of my Indian Habit, refined, naturalized, and put into the Britiſh Mode, with the Face of Queen Elizabeth on one Side, and the Arms of the Country on the other. Being thus equipped, I found in me a wonderful Inclination to ramble, and viſit all the Parts of the new World into which I was brought. The People very much favoured my natural Diſpoſition, and ſhifted me ſo faſt from Hand to Hand, that before I was Five Years old, I had travelled into almoſt every Corner of the Nation. But in the Beginning of my Sixth Year, to my unſpeakable Grief, I fell into the Hands of a miſerable old Fellow, who clapped me into an Iron Cheſt, where I found Five Hundred more of my own Quality who lay under the ſame Confinement. The only Relief we had, was to be taken out and counted over in the freſh Air every Morning and Evening. After an Impriſonment of ſeveral Years, we heard ſome Body knocking at our Cheſt, and breaking it open with an Hammer. This we found was the old Man's Heir, who, as his Father lay a dying, was ſo good as to come to our Releaſe: He ſeparated us that very Day. What was the Fate of my Companions, I know not: As for my ſelf, I was ſent to the Apothecary's Shop for a Pint of Sack. The Apothecary gave me to an Herb-Woman, the Herb-Woman to a Butcher, the Butcher to a Brewer, and the Brewer to his Wife, who made a Preſent of me to a Nonconformiſt Preacher. After this Manner I made my Way merrily through the World; for, as I told you before, we Shillings love nothing ſo much as travelling. I ſometimes fetched in a Shoulder of Mutton [263] ſometimes a Play-Book, and often had the Satiſfaction to treat a Templer at a Twelvepenny Ordinary, or carry him with Three Friends to Weſtminſter-Hall.

In the Midſt of this pleaſant Progreſs which I made from Place to Place, I was arreſted by a ſuperſtitious old Woman, who ſhut me up in a greazy Purſe, in Purſuance of a fooliſh Saying, That while ſhe kept a Queen Elizabeth's Shilling about her, ſhe ſhould never be without Money. I continued here a cloſe Priſoner for many Months, till at laſt I was exchanged for Eight and Forty Farthings.

I thus rambled from Pocket to Pocket till the Beginning of the Civil Wars, when (to my Shame be it ſpoken) I was employed in raiſing Soldiers againſt the King: For being of a very tempting Breadth, a Serjeant made Uſe of me to inveigle Country Fellows, and liſt them in the Service of the Parliament.

As ſoon as he had made one Man ſure, his Way was to oblige him to take a Shilling of a more homely Figure, and then practiſe the ſame Trick upon another. Thus I continued doing great Miſchief to the Crown, till my Officer chancing one Morning to walk Abroad earlier than ordinary, ſacrificed me to his Pleaſures, and made Uſe of me to ſeduce a Milk-Maid. This Wench bent me, and gave me to her Sweetheart, applying more properly than ſhe intended the uſual Form of, To my Love and from my Love. This ungenerous Gallant marrying her within few Days after, pawned me for a Dram of Brandy, and drinking me out next Day, I was beaten flat with an Hammer, and again ſet a running.

After many Adventures, which it would be tedious to relate, I was ſent to a young Spendthrift, in Company with the Will of his deceaſed Father. The young Fellow, who I found was very extravagant, gave great Demonſtrations of Joy at [264] the Receiving the Will; but opening it, he found himſelf diſinherited and cut off from the Poſſeſſion of a fair Eſtate, by Vertue of my being made a Preſent to him. This put him into ſuch a Paſſion, that after having taken me in his Hand, and curſed me, he ſquirred me away from him as far as he could fling me. I chanced to light in an unfrequented Place under a dead Wall, where I lay undiſcovered and uſeleſs, during the Uſurpation of Oliver Cromwell.

About a Year after the King's Return, a poor Cavalier that was walking there about Dinnertime fortunately caſt his Eye upon me, and, to the great Joy of us both, carried me to a Cook's-Shop, where he dined upon me, and drank the King's Health. When I came again into the World, I found that I had been happier in my Retirement than I thought, having probably by that Means eſcaped wearing a monſtrous Pair of Breeches.

Being now of great Credit and Antiquity, I was rather looked upon as a Medal than an ordinary Coin; for which Reaſon a Gameſter laid hold of me, and converted me into a Counter, having got together ſome Dozens of us for that Uſe. We led a melancholy Life in his Poſſeſſion, being buſy at thoſe Hours wherein Current Coin is at reſt, and partaking the Fate of our Maſter, being in a few Moments valued at a Crown, a Pound, or a Sixpence, according to the Situation in which the Fortune of the Cards placed us. I had at length the good Luck to ſee my Maſter break, by which Means I was again ſent Abroad under my primitive Denomination of a Shilling.

I ſhall paſs over many other Accidents of leſs Moment, and haſten to that fatal Cataſtrophe when I fell into the Hands of an Artiſt who conveyed me under Ground, and with an unmerciful Pair of Sheers cut off my Titles, clipped my [265] Brims, retrenched my Shape, rubbed me to my inmoſt Ring, and, in ſhort, ſo ſpoiled and pillaged me, that he did not leave me worth a Groat. You may think what a Confuſion I was in to ſee my ſelf thus curtailed and disfigured. I ſhould have been aſhamed to have ſhown my Head, had not all my old Acquaintance been reduced to the ſame ſhameful Figure, excepting ſome few that were punched through the Belly. In the midſt of this general Calamity, when every Body thought our Misfortune irretrievable, and our Caſe deſperate, we were thrown into the Furnace together, and (as it often happens with Cities riſing out of a Fire) appeared with greater Beauty and Luſtre than we could ever boaſt of before. What has happened to me ſince this Change of Sex which you now ſee, I ſhall take ſome other Opportunity to relate. In the mean Time I ſhall only repeat Two Adventures, as being very extraordinary, and neither of them having ever happened to me above once in my Life. The Firſt was, my being in a Poet's Pocket, who was ſo taken with the Brightneſs and Novelty of my Appearance, that it gave Occaſion to the fineſt Burleſque Poem in the Britiſh Language, entitued from me, The Splendid Shilling. The Second Adventure, which I muſt not omit, happened to me in the Year 1703, when I was given away in Charity to a blind Man; but indeed this was by [...] Miſtake, the Perſon who gave me having heed [...]eſly thrown me into the Hat among a Penny [...]orth of Farthings.

The TATLER. [No 250.
From Saturd. Nov. 11. to Tueſd. Nov. 14. 1710.

[266]
Scis etenim Juſtum gemina ſuſpendere Lance
Ancipitis Librae. —
Perſ.

I Laſt Winter erected a Court of Juſtice for the correcting of ſeveral Enormities in Dreſs and Behaviour, which are not cognizable in any other Courts of this Realm. The Vintner's Caſe which I there tryed is ſtill freſh in every Man's Memory. That of the Petticoat gave alſo a general Satisfaction, not to mention the more important Points of the Cane and Perſpective; in which, if I did not give Judgments and Decrees according to the ſtricteſt Rules of Equity and Juſtice, I can ſafely ſay, I acted according to the beſt of my Underſtanding. But as for the Proceedings of that Court, I ſhall refer my Reader to an Account of them, written by my Secretary, which is now in the Preſs, and will ſhortly be publiſhed under the Title of Lillie's Reports.

As I laſt Year preſided over a Court of Juſtice, it is my intention this Year to ſet my ſelf at the Head of a Court of Honour. There is no Court o [...] this Nature any where at preſent, except in France, where, according to the beſt of my intelligence, it conſiſts of ſuch only as are Marſhals of that Kingdom. I am likewiſe informed, that there is not one of that honourable Board at preſent who has not been driven out of the Field by the Duke of Marlborough: But whether this be only an accidental or a neceſſary Qualification, I muſt confeſs I am not able to determine.

[267] As for the Court of Honour of which I am here ſpeaking, I intend to ſit my ſelf in it as Preſident, with ſeveral Men of Honour on my Right Hand, and Women of Virtue on my Left, as my Aſſiſtants. The Firſt Place of the Bench I have given to an old Tangereen Captain with a Wooden Leg. The Second is a Gentleman of a long twiſted Periwig without a Curl in it, a Muff with very little Hair upon it, and a Thread-bare Coat with new Buttons, being a Perſon of great Worth, and Second Brother to a Man of Quality. The Third is a Gentleman-Uſher, extreamly well read in Romances, and Grandſon to one of the greateſt Wits in Germany, who was ſome Time Maſter of the Ceremonies to the Duke of Wolfembuttel.

As for thoſe who ſit further on my Right Hand, as it is uſual in publick Courts, they are ſuch as will fill up the Number of Faces upon the Bench, and ſerve rather for Ornament than Uſe.

The chief upon my Left Hand are, an old Maiden Lady, that preſerves ſome of the beſt Blood of England in her Veins.

A Welſh Woman of a little Stature, but high Spirit.

An old Prude that has cenſured every Marriage for theſe Thirty Years, and is lately wedded to a young Rake.

Having thus furniſhed my Bench, I ſhall eſtabliſh Correſpondencies with the Horſe-Guards, and the Veterans of Chelſea College; the former to furniſh me with Twelve Men of Honour as often as I ſhall have Occaſion for a Grand Jury, and the latter with as many good Men and true for a Petty Jury.

As for the Women of Virtue, it will not be difficult for me to find them about Midnight at Crimp and Baſſet.

[268] Having given this publick Notice of my Court, I muſt further add, that I intend to open it on this Day Sevennight, being Monday the Twentieth Inſtant; and do hereby invite all ſuch as have ſuffered Injuries and Aſtronts, that are not to be redreſſed by the common Laws of this Land, whether they be ſhort Bows, cold Salutations, ſupercilious Looks, unreturned Smiles, diſtant Behaviour, or forced Familiarity; as alſo all ſuch as have been aggrieved by any ambiguous Expreſſion, accidental Juſtle, or unkind Repartee; likewiſe all ſuch as have been defrauded of their Right to the Wall, tricked out of the upper End of the Table, or have been ſuffered to place themſelves in their own Wrong on the Back-Seat of the Coach: Theſe, and all of theſe, I do, as I above ſaid, invite to bring in their ſeveral Caſes and Complaints, in which they ſhall be relieved with all imaginable Expedition.

I am very ſenſible, that the Office I have now taken upon me will engage me in the Diſquiſition of many weighty Points that daily perplex the Youth of the Britiſh Nation, and therefore I have already diſcuſſed ſeveral of them for my future Uſe; as, How far a Man may brandiſh his Cane in the telling a Story, without inſulting his Hearer? What Degree of Contradiction amounts to the Lye? How a Man ſhould reſent another's ſtaring and cocking a Hat in his Face? If asking Pardon is an Attonement for treading upon ones Toes? Whether a Man may put up a Box on the Ear received from a Stranger in the Dark? Or, Whether a Man of Honour may take a Blow of his Wife? With ſeveral other Subtilties of the like Nature.

For my Direction in the Duties of my Office, I have furniſhed my ſelf with a certain Aſtrological Pair of Scales which I have contrived for this Purpoſe. In one of them I lay the Injuries, in the other the Reparations. The firſt are repreſented [269] by little Weights made of a Metal reſembling Iron, and the other in Gold. Theſe are not only lighter than the Weights made uſe of in Averdupois, but alſo than ſuch as are uſed in Troy-Weight. The heavieſt of thoſe that repreſent the Injuries amount but to a Scruple; and decreaſe by ſo many Sub-diviſions, that there are ſeveral imperceptible Weights which cannot be ſeen without the Help of a very fine Microſcope. I might acquaint my Reader, that theſe Scales were made under the Influence of the Sun when he was in Libra, and deſcribe many Signatures on the Weights both of Injury and Reparation: But as this would look rather to proceed from an Oſtentation of my own Art than any Care for the Publick, I ſhall paſs it over in Silence.

The Letter of the 7th Inſtant, enquired for by another of the 11th, came to Hand.

The TATLER. [No 251.
From Tueſd. Nov. 14. to Thurſd. Nov. 16. 1710.

Quiſnam igitur Liber? Sapiens. ſibi qui Imperioſus,
Quem neque Pauperies, neque Mors, neque Vincula, terrent:
Reſponſare Cupidinibus, contemnere Honores,
Fortis, & in ſeipſo totus teres atque rotundus,
Externi nequid valeat per laeve morari;
In quem manca ruit ſemper Fortuna. —
Hor.

IT is neceſſary to an eaſy and happy Life, to poſſeſs our Minds in ſuch a Manner as to be always well ſatisfied with our own Reflections. [270] The Way to this State, is to meaſure our Actions by our own Opinion, and not by that of the reſt of the World. The Senſe of other Men ought to prevail over us in Things of leſs Conſideration, but not in Concerns where Truth and Honour are engaged. When we look into the Bottom of Things, what at firſt appears a Paradox, is a plain Truth; and thoſe Profeſſions which, for Want of being duly weighed, ſeem to proceed from a Sort of Romantick Philoſophy, and Ignorance of the World, after a little Reflection are ſo reaſonable, that it is direct Madneſs to walk by any other Rules. Thus to contradict our Deſires, and to conquer the Impulſes of our Ambition, if they do not fall in with what we in our inward Sentiments approve, is ſo much our Intereſt, and ſo abſolutely neceſſary to our real Happineſs, that to contemn all the Wealth and Power in the World, where they ſtand in Competition with a Man's Honour, is rather good Senſe than Greatneſs of Mind.

Did we conſider that the Mind of a Man is the Man himſelf, we ſhould think it the moſt unnatural Sort of Self-Murther to ſacrifice the Sentiment of the Soul to gratify the Appetites of the Body. Bleſs us! Is it poſſible, that when the Neceſſities of Life are ſupplied, a Man would flatter to be rich, or circumvent to be powerful? When we meet a poor Wretch urged with Hunger and Cold asking an Alms, we are apt to think this a State we could rather ſtarve than ſubmit to: But yet how much more deſpicable is his Condition who is above Neceſſity, and yet ſhall reſign his Reaſon and his Integrity to purchaſe Superfluities? Theſe are both abject and common Beggars; but ſure it is leſs deſpicable to beg a Supply to a Man's Hunger than his Vanity. But Cuſtom and general Prepoſſeſſions have ſo far prevailed over an unthinking World, that thoſe neceſſitous Creatures who cannot reliſh Life [271] without Applauſe, Attendance, and Equipage, are ſo far from making a contemptible Figure, that diſtreſſed Virtue is leſs eſteemed than ſucceſsful Vice. But if a Man's Appeal in Caſes that regarded his Honour were made to his own Soul, there would be a Bafis and ſtanding Rule for our Conduct, and we ſhould always endeavour rather to be than appear honourable. Mr. Collier, in his Eſſay on Fortitude, has treated this Subject with great Wit and Magnanimity. What (ſays he) can be more honourable than to have Courage enough to execute the Commands of Reaſon and Conſcience; to maintain the Dignity of our Nature, and the Station aſſigned us? To be Proof againſt Poverty, Pain, and Death it ſelf? I mean ſo far as not to do any Thing that's ſcandalous or ſinful to avoid them? To ſtand Adverſity under all Shapes with Decency and Reſolution? To do this, is to be great above Title and Fortune. This argues the Soul of an Heavenly Extraction, and is worthy the Offspring of the Deity.

What a generous Ambition has this Man pointed to us? When Men have ſettled in themſelves a Conviction by ſuch noble Precepts, that there is nothing honourable that is not accompanied with Innocence; nothing mean but what has Guilt in it; I ſay, when they have attained thus much, though Poverty, Pain, and Death, may ſtill retain their Terrors, yet Riches, Pleaſures, and Honours, will eaſily loſe their Charms, if they ſtand between us and our Integrity.

What is here ſaid with Alluſion to Fortune and Fame, may as juſtly be applied to Wit and Beauty; for theſe latter are as adventitious as the other, and as little concern the Eſſence of the Soul. They are all laudable in the Man who poſſeſſes them only for the juſt Application of them. A bright Imagination, while it is ſubſervient to an honeſt and noble Soul, is a Faculty which makes a Man juſtly admired by Mankind, and [272] furniſhes him with Reflections upon his own Actions, which add Delicates to the Feaſt of a good Conſcience: But when Wit deſcends to wait upon ſenſual Pleaſures, or promote the baſe Purpoſes of Ambition, it is then to be contemned in Proportion to its Excellence. If a Man will not reſolve to place the Foundation of his Happineſs in his own Mind, Life is a bewildered and unhappy State, incapable of Reſt or Tranquillity: For to ſuch a one the general Applauſe of Valour, Wit, nay of Honeſty it ſelf, can give him but a very feeble Comfort, ſince it is capable of being interrupted by any one who wants either Underſtanding or Good-nature to ſee or acknowledge ſuch Excellencies. This Rule is ſo neceſſary, that one may very ſafely ſay, it is impoſſible to know any true Reliſh of our Being without it. Look about you in common Life among the ordinary Race of Mankind, and you will find Merit in every Kind is allowed only to thoſe who are in particular Diſtricts or Sets of Company: But ſince Men can have little Pleaſure in theſe Faculties which denominate them Perſons of Diſtinction, let them give up ſuch an empty Purſuit, and think nothing eſſential to Happineſs but what is in their own Power, the Capacity of reflecting with Pleaſure on their own Actions, however they are interpreted.

It is ſo evident a Truth, that it is only in our own Boſoms we are to ſearch for any Thing to make us happy, that it is, methinks, a Diſgrace to our Nature to talk of the taking our Meaſures from thence only as a Matter of Fortitude. When all is well there, the Viciſſitudes and Diſtinctions of Life are the meer Scenes of a Drama, and he will never act his Part well who has his Thoughts more fixed upon the Applauſe of the Audience than the Deſign of his Part.

[273] The Life of a Man who acts with a ſteady Integrity, without valuing the Interpretation of his Actions, has but one uniform regular Path to move in, where he cannot meet Oppoſition, or fear Ambuſcade. On the other Side, the leaſt Deviation from the Rules of Honour introduces a Train of numberleſs Evils, and involves him in inexplicable Mazes. He that has entred into Guilt has bid Adieu to Reſt, and every Criminal has his Share of the Miſery expreſſed ſo emphatically in the Tragedian;

Mackbeth ſhall ſleep no more!

It was with Deteſtation of any other Grandeur but the calm Command of his own Paſſion, that the excellent Mr. Cowley cries out with ſo much Juſtice;

If e're Ambition did my Fancy cheat,
With any Thought ſo mean as to be great,
Continue, Heav'n, ſtill from me to remove
The humble Bleſſings of that Life I love.

The TATLER. [No 252.
From Thurſd. Nov. 16. to Saturd. Nov. 18. 1710.

Narratur & priſci Catonis
Saepe Mero caluiſſe Virtus.
Hor.

THE following Letter, and ſeveral others to the ſame Purpoſe, accuſe me of a Rigour of which I am far from being guilty, to wit, the diſallowing the chearful Uſe of Wine.

[274]
Mr. Bickerſtaff,

YOur Diſcourſe againſt Drinking, in Tueſday's Tatler, I like well enough in the main; but in my humble Opinion, you are become too rigid where you ſay to this Effect: [Were there only this ſingle Conſideration, that we are the leſs Maſters of our ſelves if we drink the leaſt Proportion beyond the Exigence of Thirſt.] I hope no one drinks Wine to allay this Appetite. This ſeems to be deſigned for a loftier Indulgence of Nature; for it were hard to ſuppoſe, that the Author of Nature, who impoſed upon her her Neceſſities and Pains, does not allow her her Pleaſures, and we may reckon among the latter the moderate Uſe of the Grape: And though I am as much againſt Exceſs, or whatever approaches it, as your ſelf, yet I conceive one may ſafely go farther than the Bounds you there preſcribe, not only without forfeiting the Title of being one's own Maſter, but alſo to poſſeſs it in a much greater Degree. If a Man's expreſſing himſelf upon any Subject with more Life and Vivacity, more Variety of Idea's, more copiouſly, more fluently, and more to the Purpoſe, argues it he thinks clearer, ſpeaks more ready, and with greater Choice of comprehenſive and ſignificant Terms. I have the good Fortune now to be intimate with a Gentleman remarkable for this Temper, who has an inexhauſtible Source of Wit to entertain the Curious, the Grave, the Humorous, and the Frolick. He can transform himſelf into different Shapes, and adapt himſelf to every Company; yet in a Coffee-houſe, or in the ordinary Courſe of Affairs, appears rather dull than ſprightly. You can ſeldom get him to the Tavern, but when once he is is arrived to his Pint, and begins to look about and like his Company, you admire a Thouſand [275] Things in him, which before lay buried. Then you diſcover the Brightneſs of his Mind, and the Strength of his Judgment, accompanied with the moſt graceful Mirth. In a Word, by this enlivening Aid, he is whatever is polite, inſtructive, and diverting. What makes him ſtill more agreeable is, that he tells a Story, ſerious or comical, with as much Delicacy of Humour as Cervantes himſelf. And for all this, at other Times, even after a long Knowledge of him, you ſhall ſcarce diſcern in this incomparable Perſon a whit more than what might be expected from one of a common Capacity. Doubtleſs, there are Men of great Parts that are guilty of downright Baſhfulneſs, that by a ſtrange Heſitation and Reluctance to ſpeak, murder the fineſt and moſt elegant Thoughts, and render the moſt lively Conceptions flat and heavy.

In this Caſe, a certain Quantity of my White or Red Cordial, which you will, is an eaſie, but an infallible Remedy. It awakens the Judgment, quickens Memory, ripens Underſtanding, diſperſes Melancholy, chears the Heart; in a Word, reſtores the whole Man to himſelf and his Friends without the leaſt Pain or Indiſpoſition to the Patient. To be taken only in the Evening in a reaſonable Quantity before going to Bed. Note, My Bottles are ſealed with Three Flower-de-Luces and a Bunch of Grapes. Beware of Counterfeits. I am

Your moſt Humble Servant, &c.

Whatever has been ſaid againſt the Uſe of Wine, upon the Suppoſition that it enfeebles the Mind, and renders it unfit for the Duties of Life, bears forcibly to the Advantage of that delicious Juice, in Caſes where it only heightens Converſation, and brings to Light agreeable Talents, which otherwiſe would have lain concealed under the [276] Oppreſſion of an unjuſt Modeſty. I muſt acknowledge I have ſeen many of the Temper mentioned by this Correſpondent, and own, Wine may very allowably be uſed in a Degree above the Supply of meer Neceſſity by ſuch as labour under Melancholy, or are Tongue-ty'd by Modeſty. It is certainly a very agreeable Change, when we ſee a Glaſs raiſe a lifeleſs Converſation into all the Pleaſures of Wit and good Humour. But when Caska adds to his natural Impudence the Fluſter of a Bottle, that which Fools called Fire when he was ſober, all Men abhor as Outrage when he is drunk. Thus he that in the Morning was only ſaucy, is in the Evening tumultuous. It makes one ſick to hear one of theſe Fellows ſay, They love a Friend and a Bottle. Noiſy Mirth has ſomething too ruſtick in it to be conſidered without Terror by Men of Politeneſs: But while the Diſcourſe improves in a well choſen Company, from the Addition of Spirits which flow from moderate Cups, it muſt be acknowledged, that Leiſure Time cannot be more agreeably, or perhaps more uſefully employed than at ſuch Meetings: But there is a certain Prudence in this and all other Circumſtances which makes Right or Wrong in the Conduct of ordinary Life. Sir Jeoffrey Wildacre has nothing ſo much at Heart as that his Son ſhould know the World betimes: For this End he introduces him among the Sots of his own Age, where the Boy learns to laugh at his Father from the Familiarity with which he ſees him treated by his Equals. This the old Fellow calls Living well with his Heir, and teaching him to be too much his Friend to be impatient for his Eſtate. But for the more exact Regulation of Society in this and other Matters, I ſhall publiſh Tables of the Characters and Relations among Men, and by them inſtruct the Town in making Sets and Companies for a Bottle. This Humour [277] of Sir Jeoffrey ſhall be taken Notice of in the firſt Place; for there is, methinks, a Sort of Inceſt in Drunkenneſs, and Sons are not to behold Fathers ſtripped of all Reverence.

It is ſhocking in Nature for the Young, to ſee thoſe whom they ſhould have an Awe for in Circumſtances of Contempt. I ſhall therefore utterly forbid, that thoſe in whom Nature ſhould admoniſh to avoid too groſs Familiarities, ſhall be received in Parties of Pleaſure where there is the leaſt Danger of Exceſs. I ſhould run through the whole Doctrine of Drinking, but that my Thoughts are at preſent too much employed in the Modelling my Court of Honour; and altering the Seats, Benches, Bar, and Canopy from that of the Court wherein I laſt Winter ſate upon Cauſes of leſs Moment. By the Way I ſhall take an Opportunity to examine, what Method is to be taken to make Joiners and other Artificers get out of a Houſe they have once entered, not forgetting to tie them under proper Regulations. It is for Want of ſuch Rules, that I have a Day or two longer than I expected been tormented and deafened with Hammers, inſomuch that I neither can purſue this Diſcourſe, or anſwer the following and many other Letters of the higheſt Importance.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

WE are Man and Wife, and have a Boy and a Girl: The Lad Seventeen, the Maiden Sixteen. We are quarrelling about ſome Parts of their Education. I Ralph cannot bear that I muſt pay for the Girl's Learning on the Spinnet, when I know ſhe has no Ear. I Bridget have not Patience to have my Son whipped becauſe he cannot make Verſes, when I know he is a Blockhead. Pray, Sir, inform us, Is it abſolutely neceſſary that all who wear Breeches muſt be taught to Rhime, all in Petticoats to touch an Inſtrument? Pleaſe to interpoſe in this [278] and the like Caſes, to end much ſolid Diſtreſs which ariſes from trifling Cauſes, as it is common in Wedlock, and you will very much oblige us and ours.

  • Ralph
  • Bridget
Yokefellow.

The TATLER. [No 253.
From Saturd. Nov. 18. to Tueſd. Nov. 21. 1710.

Pietate gravem ac Meritis ſi forte Virum quem
Conſpexere, ſilent, arrectiſ (que) Auribus aſtant.
Virg.

Extract of the Journal of the Court of Honour, 1710.

‘Die Lunae viceſimo Novembris, Hora nona Antemeridiana.’

THE Court being ſat, an Oath prepared by the Cenſor was adminiſtred to the Aſſiſtants on his Right Hand, who were all ſworn upon their Honour. The Women on his Left Hand took the ſame Oath upon their Reputation. Twelve Gentlemen of the Horſe-Guards were impannelled, having unanimouſly choſen Mr. Alexander Truncheon, who is their Right-Hand Man in the Troop, for their Foreman in the Jury. Mr. Truncheon immediately drew his Sword, and holding it with the Point towards his own Body, preſented it to the Cenſor. Mr. Bickerſtaff received it, and after having ſurveyed the Breadth of the Blade, and Sharpneſs of the Point, with more [279] than ordinary Attention, returned it to the Foreman in a very graceful Manner. The reſt of the Jury, upon the Delivery of the Sword to their Foreman, drew all of them together as one Man, and ſaluted the Bench with ſuch an Air, as ſignified the moſt reſigned Submiſſion to thoſe who commanded them, and the greateſt Magnanimity to execute what they ſhould command.

Mr. Bickerſtaff, after having received the Compliments on his Right Hand, caſt his Eye upon the Left, where the whole Female Jury paid their Reſpects by a low Courteſie, and by laying their Hands upon their Mouths. Their Forewoman was a profeſſed Platoniſt, that had ſpent much of her Time in exhorting the Sex to ſet a juſt Value upon their Perſons, and to make the Men know themſelves.

There followed a profound Silence, when at length, after ſome Recollection, the Cenſor, who continued hitherto uncovered, put on his Hat with great Dignity; and after having compoſed the Brims of it in a Manner ſuitable to the Gravity of his Character, he gave the following Charge, which was received with Silence and Attention, that being the only Applauſe which he admits of, or is ever given in his Preſence.

The Nature of my Office, and the Solemnity of this Occaſion, requiring that I ſhould open my Firſt Seſſion with a Speech, I ſhall caſt what I have to ſay under Two principal Heads.

Under the Firſt, I ſhall endeavour to ſhow the Neceſſity and Uſefulneſs of this new-erected Court; and under the Second, I ſhall give a Word of Advice and Inſtruction to every conſtituent Part of it.

As for the Firſt, it is well obſerved by Phaedrus an Heathen Poet,

[280]
Niſi utile eſt quod facimus, fruſtra eſt Gloria.

Which is the ſame, Ladies, as if I ſhould ſay, It would be of no Reputation for me to be Preſident of a Court which is of no Benefit to the Publick. Now the Advantages that may ariſe to the Weal-Publick from this Inſtitution will more plainly appear, if we conſider what it ſuffers for the Want of it. Are not our Streets daily filled with wild Pieces of Juſtice and random Penalties? Are not Crimes undetermined, and Reparations diſproportioned? How often have we ſeen the Lye puniſhed by Death, and the Lyar himſelf deciding his own Cauſe? nay, not only acting the Judge, but the Excutioner? Have we not known a Box on the Ear more ſeverely accounted for than Manſlaughter? In theſe Extrajudicial Proceedings of Mankind, an unmannerly Jeſt is frequently as Capital as a premeditated Murder.

But the moſt pernicious Circumſtance in this Caſe is, that the Man who ſuffers the Injury muſt put himſelf upon the ſame Foot of Danger with him that gave it, before he can have his juſt Revenge; ſo that the Puniſhment is altogether accidental, and may fall as well upon the Innocent as the Guilty.

I ſhall only mention a Caſe which happens frequently among the more polite Nations of the World, and which I the rather mention, becauſe both Sexes are concerned in it, and which therefore you Gentlemen and you Ladies of the Jury will the rather take Notice of; I mean that great and known Caſe of Cuckoldom. Suppoſing the Perſon who has ſuffered Inſults in his dearer and better-Half; ſuppoſing, I ſay, this Perſon ſhould reſent the Injuries done to his tender Wife, What is the Reparation he may expect? Why, to be uſed worſe than his poor Lady, run through the Body, and left [281] Breathleſs upon the Bed of Honour. What then will you on my Right Hand ſay muſt the Man do that is affronted? Muſt our Sides be elbowed, our Shins broken? Muſt the Wall, or perhaps our Miſtreſs, be taken from us? May a Man knit his Forhead into a Frown, toſs up his Arm, on piſh at what we ſay, and muſt the Villain live after it? Is there no Redreſs for injured Honour? Yes, Gentlemen, that is the Deſign of the Judicature we have here eſtabliſhed.

A Court of Conſcience, we very well know, was firſt inſtituted for the determining of ſeveral Points of Property that were too little and trivial for the Cognizance of higher Courts of Juſtice. In the ſame Manner, our Court of Honour is appointed for the Examination of ſeveral Niceties and Punctilio's that do not paſs for Wrongs in the Eye of our common Laws. But notwithſtanding no Legiſlators of any Nation have taken into Conſideration theſe little Circumſtances, they are ſuch as often lead to Crimes big enough for their Inſpection, though they come before them too late for their Redreſs.

Beſides, I appeal to you, Ladies, [Here Mr. Bickerſtaff turned to his Left Hand] if theſe are not the little Stings and Thorns in Life that make it more uneaſy than its moſt ſubſtantial Evils? Confeſs ingenuouſly, Did you never loſe a Mornning's Devotions becauſe you could not offer them up from the higheſt Place of the Pew? Have you not been in Pain, even at a Ball, becauſe another has been taken out to dance before you? Do you love any of your Friends ſo much as thoſe that are below you? Or have you any Favourites that walk on your Right Hand? You have anſwered me in your Looks, I ask no more.

[282] I come now to the Second Part of my Diſcourſe, which obliges me to addreſs my ſelf in particular to the reſpective Members of the Court, in which I ſhall be very brief.

As for you, Gentlemen and Ladies my Aſſiſtants and Grand Juries, I have made Choice of you on my Right Hand, becauſe I know you very jealous of your Honour; and you on my Left, becauſe I know you very much concerned for the Reputation of others; for which Reaſon I expect great Exactneſs and Impartiality in your Verdicts and Judgments.

I muſt in the next Place addreſs my ſelf to you, Gentlemen of the Council: You all know, that I have not choſen you for your Knowledge in the litigious Parts of the Law, but becauſe you have all of you formerly fought Duels, of which I have Reaſon to think you have repented, as being now ſettled in the peaceable State of Benchers. My Advice to you is, only that in your Pleadings you are ſhort and expreſſive: To which End you are to baniſh out of your Diſcourſes all ſynonymous Terms, and unneceſſary Multiplications of Verbs and Nouns. I do moreover forbid you the Uſe of the Words alſo and likewiſe; and muſt further declare, That if I catch any one among you, upon any Pretence whatſoever, uſing the Particle or, I ſhall inceſſantly order him to be ſtripped of his Gown, and thrown over the Bar.

This is a true Copy:
Charles Lillie.

N. B. The Sequel of the Proceedings of this Day will be publiſhed on Tueſday next.

The TATLER. [No 254.
From Tueſday Nov. 21. to Thurſday Nov. 23. 1710.

[283]
Splendidè Mendax —
Hor.

THere are no Books which I more delight in than in Travels, eſpecially thoſe that deſcribe remote Countries, and give the Writer an Opportunity of ſhowing his Parts without incurring any Danger of being examined or contradicted. Among all the Authors of this Kind, our renowned Countryman Sir John Mandeville has diſtinguiſhed himſelf, by the Copiouſneſs of his Invention, and Greatneſs of his Genius. The Second to Sir John I take to have been Ferdinand Mendez Pinto, a Perſon of infinite Adventure, and unbounded Imagination. One reads the Voyages of theſe Two great Wits with as much Aſtoniſhment as the Travels of Ulyſſes in Homer, or of the Red Croſs Knight in Spencer. All is Enchanted Ground, and Fairy Land.

I have got into my Hands by great Chance ſeveral Manuſcripts of theſe Two eminent Authors, which are filled with greater Wonders than any of thoſe they have communicated to the Publick; and indeed, were they not ſo well atteſted, would appear altogether improbable. I am apt to think, the ingenious Authors did not publiſh them with the reſt of their Works, leſt they ſhould paſs for Fictions and Fables: A Caution not unneceſſary, when the Reputation of their Veracity was not yet eſtabliſhed in the World. But as this Reaſon has now no further Weight. [284] I ſhall make the Publick a Preſent of theſe curious Pieces at ſuch Times as I ſhall find my ſelf unprovided with other Subjects.

The preſent Paper I intend to fill with an Extract of Sir John's Journal, in which that learned and worthy Knight gives an Account of the Freezing and Thawing of ſeveral ſhort Speeches which he made in the Territories of Nova Zembla. I need not inform my Reader, that the Author of Hudibras alludes to this ſtrange Quality in that cold Climate, when, ſpeaking of abſtracted Notions cloathed in a viſible Shape, he adds that apt Simile,

Like Words congeal'd in Northern Air.

Not to keep my Reader any longer in Suſpence, the Relation put into modern Language is as follows:

We were ſeparated by a Storm in the Latitude of 73, inſomuch that only the Ship which I was in, with a Dutch and a French Veſſel, got ſafe into a Creek of Nova Zembla. We landed, in order to reſit our Veſſels, and ſtore our ſelves with Proviſions. The Crew of each Veſſel made themſelves a Cabbin of Turf and Wood, at ſome Diſtance from each other, to fence themſelves againſt the Inclemencies of the Weather, which was ſevere beyond Imagination. We ſoon obſerved, that in talking to one another we loſt ſeveral of our Words, and could not hear one another at above Two Yards Diſtance, and that too when we ſat very near the Fire. After much Perplexity, I found that our Words froze in the Air before they could reach the Ears of the Perſon to whom they were ſpoken. I was ſoon confirmed in this Conjecture, when, upon the Increaſe of the Cold, the whole Company grew dumb, or rather deaf; for every Man was ſenſible, as we afterwards found, that he ſpoke as well as ever; but the Sounds no ſooner took Air, than [285] they were condenſed and loſt. It was now a miſerable Spectacle to ſee us nodding and gaping at one another, every Man talking, and no Man heard. One might obſerve a Seaman, that could hail a Ship at a League diſtance, beckoning with his Hands, ſtraining his Lungs, and tearing his Throat, but all in vain.

— Nec vox, nec Verba, ſequuntur.

We continued here Three Weeks in this diſmal Plight. At length, upon a Turn of Wind, the Air about us began to thaw. Our Cabbin was immediately filled with a dry clattering Sound, which I afterwards found to be the Crackling of Conſonants that broke above our Heads, and were often mixed with a gentle Hiſſing, which I imputed to the Letter S, that occurs ſo frequently in the Engliſh Tongue. I ſoon after felt a Breeze of Whiſpers ruſhing by my Ear; for thoſe being of a ſoft and gentle Subſtance, immediately liquefied in the warm Wind that blew acroſs our Cabbin. Theſe were ſoon followed by Syllables and ſhort Words, and at length by entire Sentences, that melted ſooner or later, as they were more or leſs congealed; ſo that we now heard every Thing that had been ſpoken during the whole Three Weeks that we had been ſilent, if I may uſe that Expreſſion. It was now very early in the Morning, and yet, to my Surprize, I heard ſome Body ſay, Sir John, it is Midnight, and Time for the Ship's Crew to go to Bed. This I knew to be the Pilot's Voice, and upon recollecting my ſelf, I concluded that he had ſpoken theſe Words to me ſome Days before, though I could not hear them before the preſent Thaw. My Reader will eaſily imagine how the whole Crew was amazed, to hear every Man talking, and ſee no Man opening his Mouth. In the Midſt of this great Surprize we were all in, we heard a Volley of Oaths and Curſes, laſting for [286] a long while, and uttered in a very hoarſe Voice, which I knew belonged to the Boatſwain, who was a very cholerick Fellow, and had taken his Opportunity of Curſing and Swearing at me when he thought I could not hear him; for I had ſeveral Times given him the Strappado on that Account, as I did not fail to repeat it for theſe his pious Soliloquies when I got him on Shipboard.

I muſt not omit the Names of ſeveral Beauties in Wapping, which were heard every now and then, in the Midſt of a long Sigh that accompanied them; as, Dear Kate! Pretty Mrs. Peggy! When ſhall I ſee my Sue again? This betray'd ſeveral Amours which had been concealed till that Time, and furniſhed us with a great deal of Mirth in our Return to England.

When this Confuſion of Voices was pretty well over, though I was afraid to offer at Speaking, as fearing I ſhould not be heard, I propoſed a Viſit to the Dutch Cabbin, which lay about a Mile further up into the Country. My Crew were extreamly rejoiced to find they had again recovered their Hearing, though every Man uttered his Voice with the ſame Apprehenſions that I had done!

— Et timide Verba intermiſſa retentat.

At about half a Mile's Diſtance from our Cabbin, we heard the Groanings of a Bear, which at firſt ſtartled us; but upon Enquiry we were informed by ſome of our Company, that he was dead, and now lay in Salt, having been killed upon that very Spot about a Fortnight before, in the Time of the Froſt. Not far from the ſame Place we were likewiſe entertained with ſome poſthumous Snarls and Barkings of a Fox.

We at length arrived at the little Dutch Settlement, and upon entering the Room, found it filled [287] with Sighs that ſmelt of Brandy, and ſeveral other unſavourly Sounds that were altogether inarticulate. My Valet, who was an Iriſhman, fell into ſo great a Rage at what he heard, that he drew his Sword; but not knowing where to lay the Blame, he put it up again. We were ſtunned with theſe confuſed Noiſes, but did not hear a ſingle Word till about half an Hour after; which I aſcribed to the harſh and obdurate Sounds of that Language, which wanted more Time than ours to melt and become audible.

After having here met with a very hearty Welcome, we went to the French Cabbin, who, to make Amends for their Three Weeks Silence, were Talking and Diſputing with greater Rapidity and Confuſion than ever I heard in an Aſſembly even of that Nation. Their Language as I found, upon the firſt Giving of the Weather, ſell aſunder and diſſolved. I was here convinced of an Error into which I had before fallen; for I fancied, that for the Freezing of the Sound, it was neceſſary for it to be wrapped up, and, as it were, preſerved in Breath; but I found my Miſtake, when I heard the Sound of a Kit playing a Minuet over our Heads. I asked the Occaſion of it; upon which one of the Company told me, that it would play there above a Week longer if the Thaw continued; for, ſays he, finding our ſelves bereft of Speech, we prevailed upon one of the Company, who had this Muſical Inſtrument about him, to play to us from Morning to Night; all which Time we employed in Dancing, in order to diſſipate our Chagrin, & tuer le Temps.

Here Sir John gives very good Philoſophical Reaſons why the Kit could be heard during the Froſt; but as they are ſomething Prolix, I paſs them over in Silence, and ſhall only obſerve, that the honourable Author ſeems, by his Quotations, to have been well verſed in the ancient [288] Poets, which perhaps raiſed his Fancy above th [...] ordinary Pitch of Hiſtorians, and very muc [...] contributed to the Embelliſhment of his Wriings.

The TATLER. [No 255.
From Thurſd. Nov. 23. to Saturd. Nov. 25. 1710.

— Nec te tua plurima, Pantheu,
Labentem Pietas nec Apollinis Inſula texit.
Virg.

To the Cenſor of Great Britain.

SIR,

I AM at preſent under very great Difficulties, which it is not in the Power of any one, beſides your ſelf, to redreſs. Whether or no you ſhall think it a proper Caſe to come before your Court of Honour, I cannot tell; but thus it is: I am Chaplain to an honourable Family, very regular at the Hours of Devotion, and I hope of an unblameable Life; but for not offering to riſe at Second Courſe, I found my Patron and his Lady very ſullen and out of Humour, though at firſt I did not know the Reaſon of it. At length, when I happened to help my ſelf to a Jelly, the Lady of the Houſe, otherwiſe a devout Woman, told me, That it did not become a Man of my Cloth to delight in ſuch frivolous Food: But as I ſtill continued to ſit out the laſt Courſe, I was Yeſterday informed by the Butler, that his Lordſhip had no further Occaſion for my Service. All which [289] is humbly ſubmitted to your Conſideration, by,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, &c.

The Caſe of this Gentleman deſerves Pity, eſpecially if he loves Sweetmeats, to which, if I may gueſs by his Letter, he is no Enemy. In the mean Time, I have often wondered at the Indecency of diſcarding the holieſt Man from the Table as ſoon as the moſt delicious Parts of the Entertainment are ſerved up, and could never conceive a Reaſon for ſo abſurd a Cuſtom. Is it becauſe a liquoriſh Palate, or a ſweet Tooth (as they call it) is not conſiſtent with the Sanctity of his Character? This is but a trifling Pretence. No Man of the moſt rigid Virtue gives Offence by any Exceſſes in Plumb-Pudding or Plumb-Porridge, and that, becauſe they are the firſt Parts of the Dinner. Is there any Thing that tends to Incitation in Sweetmeats more than in ordinary Diſhes? Certainly not. Sugar-Plumbs are a very innocent Diet, and Conſerves of a much colder Nature than your common Pickles. I have ſometimes thought, that the Ceremony of the Chaplain's flying away from the Deſſert was Typical and Figurative, to mark out to the Company how they ought to retire from all the luſcious Baits of Temptation, and deny their Appetites the Gratifications that are moſt pleaſing to them; or at leaſt to ſignify, that we ought to ſtint our ſelves in our moſt lawful Satisfactions, and not make our Pleaſure, but our Support, the End of Eating: But moſt certainly, if ſuch a Leſſon of Temperance had been neceſſary at a Table, our Clergy would have recommended it to all the Lay-Maſters of Families, and not have diſturbed other Men's Tables with ſuch unſeaſonable Examples of Abſtinence. The Original [290] therefore of this barbarous Cuſtom, I take [...] have been meerly accidental. The Chaplain [...] tired out of pure Complaiſance to make Roo [...] for the Removal of the Diſhes, or poſſibly f [...] the Ranging of the Deſſert. This by Degre [...] grew into a Duty, till at length, as the Faſhio [...] improved, the good Man found himſelf cut [...] from the third Part of the Entertainment; an [...] if the Arrogance of the Patron goes on, it is n [...] impoſſible but, in the next Generation, he m [...] ſee himſelf reduced to the Tythe, or Tenth Di [...] of the Table; a ſufficient Caution not to pa [...] with any Privilege we are once poſſeſſed of. [...] was uſual for the Prieſt in old Times to feaſt [...] on the Sacrifice, nay the Honey-Cake, while th [...] hungry Laity looked upon him with great Devotion, or as the late Lord Rocheſter deſcribes it i [...] a very lively Manner:

And whiie the Prieſt did eat, the People ſtared.

At preſent the Cuſtom is inverted; the Lai [...] feaſt, while the Prieſt ſtands by as an humbl [...] Spectator. This neceſſarily puts the good Ma [...] upon making great Ravages on all the Diſhe [...] that ſtand near him, and diſtinguiſhing himſel [...] by Voraciouſneſs of Appetite, as knowing tha [...] his Time is ſhort. I would fain ask theſe ſtif [...] neck'd Patrons, Whether they would not take [...] ill of a Chaplain that, in his Grace after Meat, ſhould return Thanks for the whole Entertainment, with an Exception to the Deſſert? And ye [...] I cannot but think, that in ſuch a Proceeding [...] would but deal with them as they deſerved [...] What would a Roman Catholick Prieſt think [...] who is always helped firſt, and placed next th [...] Ladies, ſhould he ſee a Clergyman giving hi [...] Company the Slip at the firſt Appearance of th [...] Tarts or Sweetmeats? Would not he believ [...] that he had the ſame Antipathy to a Candie [...] Orange, or a Piece of Puff-Paſt, as ſome have [...] [291] a Cheſhire Cheeſe, or a Breaſt of Mutton? Yet to ſo ridiculous a Height is this fooliſh Cuſtom grown, that even the Chriſtmas Pye, which in its very Nature is a kind of conſecrated Cate, and a Badge of Diſtinction, is often forbidden to the Druid of the Family. Strange! that a Sirloin of Beef, whether boiled or roaſted, when entire, is expoſed to his utmoſt Depredations and Inciſions; but if minced into ſmall Pieces, and toſſed up with Plumbs and Sugar, changes its Property, and, forſooth, is Meat for his Maſter.

In this Caſe I know not which to cenſure, the Patron or the Chaplain, the Inſolence of Power, or the Abjectneſs of Dependance. For my own Part, I have often bluſhed to ſee a Gentleman, whom I knew to have much more Wit and Learning than my ſelf, and who was bred up with me at the Univerſity upon the ſame Foot of a liberal Education, treated in ſuch an ignominious Manner, and ſunk beneath thoſe of his own Rank, by reaſon of that Character which ought to bring him Honour. This deters Men of generous Minds from placing themſelves in ſuch a Station of Life, and by that Means frequently excludes Perſons of Quality from the improving and agreeable Converſation of a learned and obſequious Friend.

Mr. Oldham lets us know, That he was affrighted from the Thought of ſuch an Employment, by the ſcandalous Sort of Treatment which often accompanies it.

Some think themſelves exalted to the Sky,
If they light in ſome Noble Family:
Diet, an Horſe, and Thirty Pounds a Year,
Beſides th' Advantage of his Lordſhip's Ear.
The Credit of the Buſineſs, and the State,
Are Things that in a Youngſter's Senſe ſound great.
[292] Little the unexperienc'd Wretch does know,
What Slavery he oft muſt undergo:
Who tho' in Silken Scarf, and Caſſock dreſt,
Wears but a gayer Livery at beſt.
When Dinner calls, the Implement muſt wait,
With holy Words to conſecrate the Meat.
But hold it for a Favour ſeldom known,
If he be deign'd the Honour to ſit down.
Soon as the Tarts appear, Sir Crape withdr [...]
Thoſe Dainties are not for a Spiritual Maw.
Obſerve your Diſtance, and be ſure to ſtand
Hard by the Ciſtern with your Cap in Hand:
There for Diverſion you may pick your Teeth,
Till the kind Voider comes for your Relief.
Let others who ſuch Meanneſſes can brook,
Strike Countenance to ev'ry great Man's Look;
I rate my Freedom higher.

This Author's Raillery is the Raillery of a Friend, and does not turn the Sacred Order into Ridicule, but is a juſt Cenſure on ſuch Perſon [...] as take Advantage from the Neceſſities of a M [...] of Merit, to impoſe on him Hardſhips that a [...] by no Means ſuitable to the Dignity of his Profeſſion.

The TATLER. [No 256.
[...]rom Saturd. Nov. 25. to Tueſday Nov. 28. 1710.

[293]
— Noſtrum eſt tantas componere Lites.
Virg.

The Proceedings of the Court of Honour, held in Sheer-Lane on Monday the 20th of November, 1710. before Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq Cenſor of Great Britain.

PEter Plumb, of London, Merchant, was indicted by the Honourable Mr. Thomas Gules, of Gule-Hall in the Country of Salop, for that the ſaid Peter Plumb did in Lombard-ſtreet, London, between the Hours of Two and Three in the Afternoon, meet the ſaid Mr. Thomas Gules, and after a ſhort Salutation, put on his Hat, Value Five-Pence, while the Honourable Mr. Gules ſtood bare-headed for the Space of Two Seconds. It was further urged againſt the Criminal, That during his Diſcourſe with the Proſecutor, he feloniouſly ſtole the Wall of him, having clapped his Back againſt it in ſuch a Manner that it was impoſſible for Mr. Gules to recover it again at his taking Leave of him. The Proſecutor alledged, That he was the Cadet of a very ancient Family; and that according to the Principles of all the younger Brothers of the ſaid Family, he had never ſullied himſelf with Buſineſs, but had choſen rather to ſtarve like a Man of Honour, than do any Thing beneath his Quality. He produced ſeveral Witneſſes, that he had never employed himſelf beyond the Twiſting of a Whip, or the Making of a Pair of Nut-Crackers, in which he [294] only worked for his Diverſion, in order to mae a Preſent now and then to his Friends. The Priſoner being asked what he could ſay for himſelf, caſt ſeveral Reflections upon the Honourable Mr. Gules; as, That he was not worth a Groat; That no Body in the City would truſt him for a Halſpenny; That he owed him Money, which he had promiſed to pay him ſeveral Times, but never kept his Word: And in ſhort, That he was an idle, beggarly Fellow, and of no Uſe to the Publick. This Sort of Language was very ſeverely reprimanded by the Cenſor, who told the Criminal, That he ſpoke in Contempt of the Court, and that he ſhould be proceeded againſt for Contumacy, if he did not change his Style. The Priſoner therefore deſired to be heard by his Council, who urged in his Defence, That he put on his Hat through Ignorance, and took the Wall by Accident. They likewiſe produced ſeveral Witneſſes, That he made ſeveral Motions with his Hat in his Hand, which are generally underſtood as an Invitation to the Perſon we talk with to be covered; and that the Gentleman not taking the Hint, he was forced to put on his Hat, as being troubled with a Cold. There was likewiſe an Iriſh Man who depoſed, That he had heard him cough Three and twenty times that Morning. And as for the Wall, it was alledged That he had taken it inadvertently, to ſave himſelf from a Shower of Rain which was then falling. The Cenſor having conſulted the Men of Honour who ſat at his Right Hand on the Bench, found they were all of Opinion, That the Defence made by the Priſoner's Council did rather aggravate than extenuate his Crime; That the Motions and Intimations of the Hat were a Token of Superiority in Converſation, and therefore not to be uſed by the Criminal to a Man of the Proſecutor's Quality, who was likewiſe veſted with a double Title to the Wall at the Time of [295] [...]eir Converſation, both as it was the upper [...]and, and as it was a Shelter from the Weather. The Evidence being very full and clear, the [...]ry, without going out of Court, declared their Opinion unanimouſly by the Mouth of their Foreman, That the Proſecutor was bound in Honour [...]o make the Sun ſhine through the Criminal, or, [...]s they afterwards explained themſelves, to whip [...]im through the Lungs.

The Cenſor knitting his Brows into a Frown, [...]nd looking very ſternly upon the Jury, after a [...]ittle Pauſe, gave them to know, That this Court was erected for the finding out of Penalties ſuitable to Offences, and to reſtrain the Outrages of private Juſtice; and that he expected they ſhould moderate their Verdict. The Jury therefore retired, and being willing to comply with the Advices of the Cenſor, after an Hour's Conſultation, declared their Opinion as follows:

That in Conſideration this was Peter Plumb's firſt Offence, and that there did not appear any Malice prepenſe in it, as alſo that he lived in good Reputation among his Neighbours, and that his taking the Wall was only ſe defendendo, the Proſecutor ſhould let him eſcape with Life, and content himſelf with the Slitting of his Noſe, and the Cutting off both his Ears. Mr. Bickerſtaff ſmiling upon the Court, told them, That he thought the Puniſhment, even under its preſent Mitigation, too ſevere; and that ſuch Penalties might be of ill Conſequence in a Trading Nation. He therefore pronounced Sentence againſt the Criminal in the following Manner: That his Hat, which was the Inſtrument of Offence, ſhould be forfeited to the Court; That the Criminal ſhould go to the Warehouſe from whence he came, and thence, as Occaſion ſhould require, proceed to the Exchange, or Garraway's Coffee-houſe, in what Manner he pleaſed; but that neither he nor any of the Family of the [296] Plumbs ſhould hereafter appear in the Streets [...] London out of their Coaches, that ſo the Foo [...] Way might be left open and undiſturbed for thei [...] Betters.

Dathan, a Peddling Jew, and T. R—, [...] Welſhman, were indicted by the Keeper of [...] Alehouſe in Weſtminſter, for breaking the Peac [...] and two Earthen Mugs, in a Diſpute about the Antiquity of their Families, to the great Detriment of the Houſe, and Diſturbance of the whole Neighbourhood. Dathan ſaid for himſelf, that he was provoked to it by the Welſhman, who pretended, that the Welſh were an ancienter People than the Jews; whereas, ſays he, I can ſhew by this Genealogy in my Hand, that I am the Son of Meſheck, that was the Son of Naboth, that was the Son of Shalem, that was the Son of — The Welſhman here interrupted him, and told him, That he could produce Shennalogy as well as himſelf; for that he was John ap Rice, ap Shenkin, ap Shones. He then turned himſelf to the Cenſor, and told him in the ſame broken Accent, and with much Warmth, That the Jew would needs uphold, that King Cadwallader was younger than Iſſachar. Mr. Bickerſtaff ſeemed very much inclined to give Sentence againſt Dathan, as being a Jew; but finding Reaſons, by ſome Expreſſions which the Welſhman let fall in aſſerting the Antiquity of his Family, to ſuſpect that the ſaid Welſhman was a Prae-Adamite, he ſuffered the Jury to go out, without any previous Admonition. After ſome Time they returned, and gave their Verdict, That it appearing the Perſons at the Bar did neither of them wear a Sword, and that conſequently they had no Right to quarrel upon a Point of Honour; to prevent ſuch frivolous Appeals for the future, they ſhould both of them be toſſed in the ſame Blanket, and there adjuſt the Superiority [297] as they could agree it between themſelves. The Cenſor confirmed the Verdict.

Richard Newman was indicted by Major Punto, for having uſed the Words, Perhaps it may be ſo, in a Diſpute with the ſaid Major. The Major urged, That the Word, Perhaps, was queſtioning his Veracity, and that it was an indirect Manner of giving him the Lye. Richard Newman had nothing more to ſay for himſelf, than that he intended no ſuch Thing, and threw himſelf upon the Mercy of the Court. The Jury brought in their Verdict Special.

Mr. Bickerſtaff ſtood up, and after having caſt his Eyes over the whole Aſſembly, hem'd thrice. He then acquainted them, That he had laid down a Rule to himſelf, which he was reſolved never to depart from, and which, as he conceived, would very much conduce to the ſhortening the Buſineſs of the Court; I mean, ſays he, never to allow of the Lye being given by Conſtruction, Implication, or Induction, but by the ſole Uſe of the Word it ſelf. He then proceeded to ſhow the great Miſchiefs that had ariſen to the Engliſh Nation from that pernicious Monoſyllable; That it had bred the moſt fatal Quarrels between the deareſt Friends; That it had frequently thin'd the Guards, and made great Havock in the Army; That it had ſometimes weaken'd the City Trained Bands; and, in a Word, had deſtroved many of the braveſt Men in the Iſle of Great Britain. For the Prevention of which Evils for the future, he inſtructed the Jury to preſent the Word it ſelf as a Nuſance in the Engliſh Tongue; and further promiſed them, That he would, upon ſuch their Preſentment, publiſh an Edict of the Court for the entire Baniſhment and Excluſion of it out of the Diſcourſes and Converſation of all civil Societies.

This is a true Copy,
Charles Lillie.
[298]

Monday next is ſet apart for the Tryal of ſeveral Female Cauſes.

N. B. The Caſe of the Haſſock will come on between the Hours of Nine and Ten.

The TATLER. [No 257.
From Tueſday Nov. 28. to Thurſday Nov. 30. 1710.

In nova fert Animus mutatas dicere Formas
Corpora: Dii, Captis (nam vos mutaſtis & illas)
Aſpirate meis. —
Ovid. Met.

EVery Nation is diſtinguiſhed by Productions that are peculiar to it. Great Britain is particularly fruitful in Religions, that ſhoot up and flouriſh in this Climate more than in any other. We are ſo famous Abroad for our great Variety of Sects and Opinions, that an ingenious Friend of mine, who is lately returned from his Travels, aſſures me, there is a Show at this Time carried up and down in Germany, which repreſents all the Religions of Great Britain in Waxwork. Notwithſtanding that the Pliancy of the Matter in which the Images are wrought makes it capable of being moulded into all Shapes and Figures, my Friend tells me, that he did not think it poſſible for it to be twiſted and tortured into ſo many skrew'd Faces and wry Features as appeared in ſeveral of the Figures that compoſed the Show. I was indeed ſo pleaſed with the Deſign of the German Artiſt, that I begged my Friend to give me an Account of it in all its Particulars, which he did after the following Manner.

[299] I have often, ſays he, been preſent at a Show of Elephants, Camels, Dromedaries, and other ſtrange Creatures, but I never ſaw ſo great an Aſſembly of Spectators as were met together at the Opening of this great Piece of Wax-work. We were all placed in a large Hall, according to the Price that we had paid for our Seats: The Curtain that hung before the Show was made by a Maſter of Tapeſtry, who had woven it in the Figure of a monſtrous Hydra that had ſeveral Heads, which brandiſhed out their Tongues, and ſeemed to hiſs at each other. Some of theſe Heads were large and entire; and where any of them had been lopped away, there ſprouted up ſeveral in the Room of them; inſomuch that for one Head cut off, a Man might ſee Ten, Twenty, or an Hundred, of a ſmaller Size, creeping through the Wound. In ſhort, the whole Picture was nothing but Confuſion and Bloodſhed. On a ſudden, ſays my Friend, I was ſtartled with a Flouriſh of many Muſical Inſtruments that I had never heard before, which was followed by a ſhort Tune, (if it might be ſo called) wholly made up of Jars and Diſcords. Among the reſt, there was an Organ, a Bagpipe, a Groaning-Board, a Stentorophonick-Trumpet, with ſeveral Wind Inſtruments of a moſt diſagreeable Sound, which I do not ſo much as know the Name of. After a ſhort Flouriſh, the Curtain was drawn up, and we were preſented with the moſt extraordinary Aſſembly of Figures that ever entered into a Man's Imagination. The Deſign of the Workman was ſo well expreſſed in the dumb Show before us, that it was not hard for an Engliſhman to comprehend the Meaning of it.

The principal Figures were placed in a Row, conſiſting of Seven Perſons. The middle Figure, which immediately attracted the Eyes of the whole Company, and was much bigger than the reſt, was formed like a Matron, dreſſed in the Habit [300] of an elderly Woman of Quality in Queen Elizabeth's Days. The moſt remarkable Parts of her Dreſs, was the Beaver with the Steeple Crown, the Scarf that was darker than Sable, and the Lawn Apron that was whiter than Ermin. Her Gown was of the richeſt black Velvet, and juſt upon her Heart ſtudded with large Diamonds of an ineſtimable Value, diſpoſed in the Form of a Croſs. She bore an inexpreſſible Chearfulneſs and Dignity in her Aſpect; and though ſhe ſeemed in Years, appeared with ſo much Spirit and Vivacity, as gave her at the ſame Time an Air of old Age and Immortality. I found my Heart touched with ſo much Love and Reverence at the Sight of her, that the Tears ran down my Face as I looked upon her; and ſtill the more I looked upon her, the more my Heart was melted with the Sentiments of Filial Tenderneſs and Duty. I diſcovered every Moment ſomething ſo charming in this Figure, that I could ſcarce take my Eyes off it. On its Right Hand there ſat the Figure of a Woman ſo covered with Ornaments, that her Face, her Body, and her Hands, were almoſt entirely hid under them. The little you could ſee of her Face was painted; and what I thought very odd, had ſomething in it like artificial Wrinkles; but I was the leſs ſurpriſed at it, when I ſaw upon her Forehead an old-faſhioned Tower of grey Hairs. Her Head-Dreſs roſe very high by Three ſeveral Stories or Degrees; her Garments had a Thouſand Colours in them, and were embroidered with Croſſes in Gold, Silver and Silk: She had nothing on, ſo much as a Glove or a Slipper, which was not marked with this Figure; nay, ſo ſuperſtitiouſly fond did ſhe appear of it, that ſhe ſat croſs-legged. I was quickly ſick of this tawdry Compoſition of Ribands, Silks and Jewels, and therefore caſt my Eye on a Dame which was juſt the Reverſe of it. I need not tell [301] my Reader, that the Lady before deſcribed was Popery, or that ſhe I am now going to deſcribe is Presbytery. She ſat on the Left Hand of the venerable Matron, and ſo much reſembled her in the Features of her Countenance, that ſhe ſeemed her Siſter; but at the ſame Time that one obſerved a Likneſs in her Beauty, one could not but take Notice, that there was ſomething in it ſickly and ſplenatick. Her Face had enough to diſcover the Relation, but it was drawn up into a peeviſh Figure, ſowred with Diſcontent, and overcaſt with Melancholy. She ſeemed offended at the Matron for the Shape of her Hat, as too much reſembling the triple Coronet of the Perſon who ſat by her. One might ſee likewiſe, that ſhe diſſented from the white Apron and the Croſs; for which Reaſons ſhe had made her ſelf a plain, homely Dowdy, and turned her Face towards the Sectaries that ſat on her Left Hand, as being afraid of looking upon the Matron, leſt ſhe ſhould ſee the Harlot by her.

On the Right Hand of Popery ſat Judaiſm, repreſented by an old Man embroidered with Phylacteries, and diſtinguiſhed by many Typical Figures, which I had not Skill enough to unriddle. He was placed among the Rubbiſh of a Temple; but inſtead of weeping over it, (which I ſhould have expected from him) he was counting out a Bag of Money upon the Ruins of it.

On his Right Hand was Deiſm, or Natural Religion. This was a Figure of an half-naked aukward Country Wench, who with proper Ornaments and Education would have made an agreeable and beautiful Appearance; but for Want of thoſe Advantages, was ſuch a Spectacle, as a Man would bluſh to look upon.

I have now, continued my Friend, given you an Account of thoſe who were placed on the Right Hand of the Matron, and who, according to the Order in which they ſat, were Deiſm, Judaiſm, [302] and Popery. On the Left Hand, as I told you, appeared Presbytery. The next to her was a Figure which ſomewhat puzzled me: It was that of a Man looking, with Horror in his Eyes, upon a Silver Baſon filled with Water. Obſerving ſomething in his Countenance that looked like Lunacy, I fancied at firſt that he was to expreſs that kind of Diſtraction which the Phyſicians call the Hydro-Phobia; but conſidering what the Intention of the Show was, I immediately recollected my ſelf, and concluded it to be Anabaptiſm.

The next Figure was a Man that ſat under a moſt profound Compoſure of Mind: He wore an Hat whoſe Brims were exactly parallel with the Horizon: His Garment had neither Sleeve nor Skirt, nor ſo much as a ſuperfluous Button. What they called his Cravat, was a little Piece of white Linen quilled with great Exactneſs, and hanging below his Chin about two Inches. Seeing a Book in his Hand, I asked our Artiſt what it was, who told me it was the Quakers Religion; upon which I deſired a Sight of it. Upon Peruſal, I found it to be nothing but a new-faſhioned Grammar, or an Art of abridging ordinary Diſcourſe. The Nouns were reduced to a very ſmall Number, as the Light, Friend, Babylon. The principal of his Pronouns was Thou; and as for You, Ye, and Yours, I found they were not looked upon as Parts of Speech in this Grammar. All the Verbs wanted the Second Perſon Plural; the Participles ended all in ing or ed, which were marked with a particular Accent. There were no Adverbs beſides Yea and Nay. The ſame Thrift was obſerved in the Prepoſitions. The Conjunctions were only Hem! and Ha! and the Interjections brought under the Three Heads of Sighing, Sobbing, and Groaning.

[303] There was at the End of the Grammar a little Nomenclature, call'd, The Chriſtian Man's Vocabulary, which gave new Appellations, or (if you will) Chriſtian Names to almoſt every Thing in Life. I replaced the Book in the Hand of the Figure, not without admiring the Simplicity of its Garb, Speech, and Behaviour.

Juſt oppoſite to this Row of Religions, there was a Statue dreſſed in a Fool's Coat, with a Cap of Bells upon his Head, laughing and pointing at the Figures that ſtood before him. This Ideot is ſuppoſed to ſay in his Heart what David's Fool did ſome Thouſands of Years ago, and was therefore deſigned as a proper Repreſentative of thoſe among us who are called Atheiſts and Infidels by others, and Free-Thinkers by themſelves.

There were many other Groupes of Figures which I did not know the Meaning of; but ſeeing a Collection of both Sexes turning their Backs upon the Company, and laying their Heads very cloſe together, I enquired after their Religion, and found that they called themſelves the Philodelphians, or the Family of Love.

In the oppoſite Corner there ſat another little Congregation of ſtrange Figures, opening their Mouths as wide as they could gape, and diſtinguiſhed by the Title of the Sweet Singers of Iſrael.

I muſt not omit, that in this Aſſembly of Wax there were ſeveral Pieces that moved by Clockwork, and gave great Satisfaction to the Spectators. Behind the Matron there ſtood one of theſe Figures, and behind Popery another, which, as the Artiſt told us, were each of them the Genius of the Perſon they attended. That behind Popery repreſented Perſecution, and the other Moderation. The firſt of theſe moved by ſecret Springs towards a great Heap of dead Bodies that lay piled upon one another at a conſiderable Diſtance behind the principal Figures. There were written [304] on the Foreheads of theſe dead Men ſeveral ha [...] Words, as Prae-Adamites, Sabbatarians, Cam [...] nians, Muggletonians, Browniſts, Independants, M [...] ſonites, Camiſars, and the like. At the Approac [...] of Perſecution, it was ſo contrived, that as ſh [...] held up her Bloody Flag, the whole Aſſembly of dead Men, like thoſe in the Rehearſal, ſtarted up and drew their Swords. This was followed by great Claſhings and Noiſe, when, in the Midſt of the Tumult, the Figure of Moderation moved gently towards this new Army, which upon her holding up a Paper in her Hand, inſcribed, Liberty of Conſcience, immediately fell into a Heap of Carcaſſes, remaining in the ſame quiet Poſture that they lay at firſt.

The TATLER. [No 258.
From Thurſday Nov. 30. to Saturd. Dec. 2. 1710.

Occidit miſeros crambe repetita —
Juv.

WHen a Man keeps a conſtant Table, he may be allowed ſometimes to ſerve up a cold Diſh of Meat, or toſs up the Fragments of a Feaſt into a Ragouſt. I have ſometimes, in a Scarcity of Proviſions, been obliged to take the ſame Kind of Liberty, and to entertain my Reader with the Leavings of a former Treat. I muſt this Day have Recourſe to the ſame Method, and beg my Gueſts to ſit down to a kind of Saturday's Dinner. To let the Metaphor reſt, I intend to fill up this Paper with a Bundle of Letters relating to Subjects on which I have formerly treated, and have ordered my Bookſeller to [305] rint at the End of each Letter the Minutes with which I endorſed it, after the firſt Peruſal of it.

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq

SIR,

DIning Yeſterday with Mr. South-Britiſh and Mr. William North-Briton, Two Gentlemen, who, before you ordered it otherwiſe, were known by the Names of Mr. Engliſh and Mr. William Scott. Among other Things, the Maid of the Houſe (who in her Time I believe may have been a North-Britiſh Warming-pan) brought us up a Diſh of North-Britiſh Collops. We liked our Entertainment very well, only we obſerved the Table-Cloth, being not ſo fine as we could have wiſhed, was North-Britiſh Cloth: But the worſt of it was, we were diſturbed all Dinner-time by the Noiſe of the Children, who were playing in the pav'd Court at North-Britiſh Hoppers; ſo we paid our North-Briton ſooner than we deſigned, and took Coach to North-Britain Yard, about which Place moſt of us live. We had indeed gone a foot, only we were under ſome Apprehenſions leſt a North-Britiſh Miſt ſhould wet a South-Britiſh Man to the Skin.

We think this Matter properly expreſſed, according to the Accuracy of the new Style ſettled by you in one of your late Papers. You will pleaſe to give your Opinion upon it to,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servants,
  • J. S.
  • M. P.
  • N. R.

See if this Letter be conformable to the Directions given in the Tatler above-mentioned.

[306]

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq

SIR,

A Gentleman in my Neighbourhood, who happens to be Brother to a Lord, though neither his Father nor Grandfather were ſo, it perpetually making Uſe of this Phraſe, A Perſon of my Quality. He has it in his Mouth Fifty times a Day, to his Labourers, his Servants, his Children, his Tenants, and his Neighbours. Wet or dry, at home or abroad, drunk or ſober, angry or pleaſed, it is the conſtant Burthen of his Style. Sir, as you are Cenſor of Great Britain, as you value the Repoſe of a loyal County, and the Reputation of my Neighbour, I beg you will take this cruel Grievance into your Conſideration, elſe, for my own Particular, I am reſolved to give up my Farm, ſell my Stock, and remove with my Wife and Seven Children next Spring to Falmouth or Berwick, if my Strength will permit me, being brought into a very weak Condition. I am, (with great Reſpect)

SIR,
Your moſt obedient and languiſhing Servant, &c.

Let this be referred to the Court of Honour.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Am a young Lady of a good Fortune, and at preſent inveſted by ſeveral Lovers who lay cloſe Siege to me, and carry on their Attacks with all poſſible Diligence. I know which of them has the firſt Place in my own Heart, but would freely croſs my private Inclinations to make Choice of the Man who loves me beſt, which it is impoſſible for me to know, all of [307] them pretending to an equal Paſſion for me. Let me therefore beg of you, dear Mr. Bickerſtaff, to lend me your Itburiel's Spear, in order to touch this Troop of Rivals; after which I will moſt faithfully return it to you again, with the greateſt Gratitude. I am,

SIR, &c.

Query 1. What Figure this Lady doth think her Lover will appear in? Or what Symptoms he will betray of his Paſſion upon being touched?

2. Whether a Touch of her Fan may not have the ſame Efficacy as a Touch of Ithuriel's Spear?

Honoured Sir,

GRatitude obliges me to make this publick Acknowledgment of the eminent Service you have done my ſelf in particular, and the whole Body of Chaplains (I hope) in general. Coming Home on Sunday about Dinner-time, I found Things ſtrangely altered for the better; the Porter ſmiled in my Face when he let me in, the Footman bowed to me as I paſſed him, the Steward ſhook me by the Hand, and Mrs. Beatrice drop'd me a Courteſie as ſhe went along. I was ſurprized at all this Civility, and knew not to what I might aſcribe it, except to my bright Beaver and ſhining Scarf that were new that Day. But I was ſtill more aſtoniſhed to find ſuch an agreeable Change at the Table: My Lord helped me to a fat Slice of Veniſon with his own Hand, and my Lady did me the Honour to drink to me. I offered to riſe at my uſual Time, but was deſired to fit ſtill, with this kind Expreſſion: Come Doctor, a Gelly or a Conſerve will do you no Harm; don't be afraid of the Deſſert. I was ſo confounded with the Favour, that I returned my Thanks in a moſt aukward Manner, wondering what was the Meaning of this total Transformation: But [308] my Lord ſoon put an End to my Admirati [...] by ſhewing me a Paper that challenged yo [...] Sir, for its Author, and rallied me very agre [...] ably on the Subject, asking me, which was be [...] handled, the Lord or his Chaplain? I owne [...] my ſelf to think the Banter ſharpeſt againſt ou [...] ſelves, and that theſe were trifling Matters, no [...] fit for a Philoſopher to inſiſt on. His Lordſhip was in ſo good a Humour, that he ordered me to return his Thanks with my own, and my Lady joins in the ſame, with this one Exception to your Paper, That the Chaplain in her Family was always allow'd Minc'd-Pyes from Allhallows to Candlemas. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt Obliged, Humble Servant, T. W.

Requires no Anſwer.

Mr. Cenſor,

I Have read your Account of Nova Zembla with great Pleaſure, and have ordered it to be tranſcribed in a little Hand, and inſerted in Mr. Touſon's late Edition of Hudibras. I could wiſh you would furniſh us with more Notes upon that Author, to fill up the Place of thoſe dull Annotations with which ſeveral Editions of that Book have been incumbered. I would particularly deſire of you to give the World the Story of Talicotius, who makes a very eminent Figure in the firſt Canto, not having been able to meet with any Account of the ſaid Talicotius in the Writings of any other Author. I am (with the moſt profound Reſpect)

The moſt humble of your Admirers, Q. Z.

To be anſwered next Thurſday, if nothing more material intervenes.

[309]
Mr. Cenſor,

IN your Survey of the People, you muſt have obſerved Crowds of ſingle Perſons that are qualified to increaſe the Subjects of this glorious Iſland, and yet neglect that Duty to their Country. In order to reclaim ſuch Perſons, I lay before you this Propoſal.

Your moſt obedient Servant, Th. Cl.

This to be conſidered on Saturday next.

The TATLER. [No 259.
From Saturday Dec. 2. to Tueſday Dec. 5. 1710.

— Vexat Cenſura Columbas.
Juv.

A Continuation of the Journal of the Court of Honour, held in Sheer-Lane on Monday the 27th of November, before Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq Cenſor of Great Britain.

ELizabeth Makebate, of the Pariſh of St. Catherine's, Spinſter, was indicted for ſurreptitiouſly taking away the Haſſock from under the Lady Grave-Airs, between the Hours of Four and Five, on Sunday the 26th of November. The Proſecutor depoſed, That as ſhe ſtood up to make a Courteſie to a Perſon of Quality in a neighbouring Pew, the Criminal conveyed away the Haſſock by Stealth, inſomuch that the Proſecutor was obliged to fit all the while ſhe was at Church, or to ſay her Prayers in a Poſture that did not become a Woman of her Quality. The [310] Priſoner pleaded Inadvertency; and the Jury were going to bring it in Chance-medley, had not ſeveral Witneſſes been produced againſt the ſaid Elizabeth Makebate, that ſhe was an old Offender, and a Woman of a bad Reputation. It appeared in particular, That on the Sunday before ſhe had detracted from a new Petticoat of Mrs. Mary Doelittle, having ſaid in the Hearing of ſeveral credible Witneſſes, that the ſaid Petticoat was ſcowred, to the great Grief and Detriment of the ſaid Mary Doelittle. There were likewiſe many Evidences produced againſt the Criminal, that though ſhe never failed to come to Church on Sunday, ſhe was a moſt notorious Sabbath-Breaker, and that ſhe ſpent her whole Time, during Divine Service, in diſparaging other People's Clothes, and whiſpering to thoſe who ſat next her. Upon the whole, ſhe was found guilty of the Indictment, and received Sentence to ask Pardon of the Proſecutor upon her bare Knees, without either Cuſhion or Haſſock under her, in the Face of the Court.

N. B. As ſoon as the Sentence was executed on the Criminal, which was done in open Court with the utmoſt Severity, the firſt Lady of the Bench on Mr. Bickerſtaff's Right Hand ſtood up, and made a Motion to the Court, That whereas it was impoſſible for Women of Faſhion to dreſs themſelves before the Church was half done, and whereas many Confuſions and Inconveniencies did ariſe thereupon, it might be lawful for them to ſend a Footman, in order to keep their Places, as was uſual in other polite and well regulated Aſſemblies. The Motion was ordered to be entred in the Books, and conſidered at a more convenient Time.

Charles Cambrick, Linendraper, in the City of Weſtminſter, was indicted for ſpeaking obſcenely to the Lady Penolope Youthwood. It appeared, That the Proſecutor and her Woman going in a [311] Stage-Coach from London to Brentford, where they were to be met by the Lady's own Chariot, the Criminal and another of his Acquaintance travelled with them in the ſame Coach, at which Time the Priſoner talked Bawdy for the Space of Three Miles and a half. The Proſecutor alledged, That over againſt the Old Fox at Knightſbridge he mentioned the Word Linen; That at the further End of Kenſington he made Uſe of the Term Smock; and that before he came to Hammerſmith, he talked almoſt a Quarter of an Hour upon Wedding-Shifts. The Proſecutor's Woman confirmed what her Lady had ſaid, and added further, That ſhe had never ſeen her Lady in ſo great a Confuſion, and in ſuch a Taking, as ſhe was during the whole Diſcourſe of the Criminal. The Priſoner had little to ſay for himſelf, but that he talked only in his own Trade, and meant no Hurt by what he ſaid. The Jury however found him guilty, and repreſented by their Forewoman, That ſuch Diſcourſes were apt to ſully the Imagination, and that by a Concatenation of Idea's, the Word Linen implied many Things that were not proper to be ſtirred up in the Mind of a Woman who was of the Proſecutor's Quality, and therefore gave it as their Verdict, That the Linendraper ſhould loſe his Tongue. Mr. Bickerſtaff ſaid, he thought the Proſecutor's Ears were as much to blame as the Priſoner's Tongue, and therefore gave Sentence as follows: That they ſhould both be placed over-againſt one another in the Midſt of the Court, there to remain for the Space of one Quarter of an Hour, during which Time, the Linendraper was to be gagged, and the Lady to hold her Hands cloſe upon both her Ears, which was executed accordingly.

Edward Callicoat was indicted as an Accomplice to Charles Cambrick, for that he the ſaid Edward Callicoat did, by his Silence and his Smiles, ſeem [312] to approve and abet the ſaid Charles Cambrick in every Thing he ſaid. It appeared, That the Priſoner was Foreman of the Shop to the aforeſaid Charles Cambrick, and by his Poſt obliged to ſmile at every Thing that the other ſhould be pleaſed to ſay: Upon which he was acquitted.

Joſias Shallow was indicted in the Name of Dame Winifred, ſole Relict of Richard Dainty Eſq for having ſaid ſeveral Times in Company, and in the Hearing of ſeveral Perſons there preſent, That he was extremely obliged to the Widow Dainty, and that he ſhould never be able ſufficiently to expreſs his Gratitude. The Proſecutor urged, That this might blaft her Reputation, and that it was in Effect a boaſting of Favours which he had never received. The Priſoner ſeemed to be much aſtoniſhed at the Conſtruction which was put upon his Words, and ſaid, That he meant nothing by them, but that the Widow had befriended him in a Leaſe, and was very kind to his younger Siſter. The Jury finding him a little weak in his Underſtanding, without going out of the Court, brought in their Verdict Ignoramus.

Urſula Goodenough was accuſed by the Lady Betty Wou'dbe, for having ſaid, That ſhe the Lady Betty Wou'dbe was painted. The Priſoner brought ſeveral Perſons of good Credit to witneſs to her Reputation, and proved by undeniable Evidences, that ſhe was never at the Place where the Words were ſaid to have been uttered. The Cenſor obſerving the Behaviour of the Proſecutor, found Reaſon to believe that ſhe had indicted the Priſoner for no other Reaſon but to make her Complexion be taken Notice of, which indeed was very freſh and beautiful: He therefore asked the Offender with a very ſtern Voice, How ſhe could preſume to ſpread ſo groundleſs a Report? And whether ſhe ſaw any Colours in the Lady Wou'dbe's Face that could procure Credit to ſuch a [313] Falſhood? Do you ſee (ſays he) any Lillies or Roſes in her Cheeks, any Bloom, any Probability?—The Proſecutor, not able to bear ſuch Language any longer, told him, That he talked like a blind old Fool, and that ſhe was aſham'd to have entertain'd any Opinion of his Wiſdom: But ſhe was ſoon put to Silence, and ſentenced to wear her Mask for Five Months, and not to preſume to ſhow her Face till the Town ſhould be empty.

Benjamin Buzzard Eſq was indicted for having told the Lady Everbloom at a publick Ball, That ſhe looked very well for a Woman of her Years. The Priſoner not denying the Fact, and perſiſting before the Court that he looked upon it as a Compliment, the Jury brought him in Non Compos Mentis.

The Court then adjourned to Monday the 11th Inſtant.

Copia Vera,
Charles Lillie.

The TATLER. [No 260.
From Tueſday Dec. 5. to Thurſday Dec. 7. 1710.

Non cuicunque datum eſt habere Naſum.
Mart.

WE have a very learned and elaborate Diſſertation upon Thumbs in Montaigne's Eſſays, and another upon Ears in the Tale of a Tub. I am here going to write one upon Noſes, having choſen for my Text the following Verſes out of Hudibras:

[314]
So learned Talicotius from
The brawny Part of Porter's Bum
Cut Supplemental Noſes, which
Laſted as long as Parent Breech:
But when the Date of Nock was out,
Off drop'd the Sympathetick Snout.

Notwithſtanding that there is nothing obſcene in Natural Knowledge, and that I intend to give as little Offence as may be to Readers of a wellbred Imagination, I muſt, for my own Quiet, deſire the Criticks (who in all Times have been famous for good Noſes) to refrain from the Lecture of this curious Tract. Theſe Gentlemen were formerly marked out and diſtinguiſhed by the little Rhinocerical Noſe, which was always looked upon as an Inſtrument of Deriſion, and which they were uſed to cock, toſs, or draw up in a contemptuous Manner, upon reading the Works of their ingenious Contemporaries. It is not therefore for this Generation of Men that I write the preſent Tranſaction,

— Minus aptus acutis
Naribus horum Hominum —

But for the Sake of ſome of my Philoſophical Friends in the Royal Society, who peruſe Diſcourſes of this Nature with a becoming Gravity, and a Deſire of improving by them.

Many are the Opinions of learned Men concerning the Riſe of that fatal Diſtemper which has always taken a particular Pleaſure in venting its Spight upon the Noſe. I have ſeen a little Burleſque Poem in Italian that gives a very pleaſant Account of this Matter. The Fable of it [...]ns thus: Mars, the God of War, having ſerved during the Siege of Naples in the Shape of a French Colonel, received a Viſit one Night from Venus, the Goddeſs of Love, who had been always his profeſſed Miſtreſs and Admirer. The [315] Poem ſays, ſhe came to him in the Diſguiſe of a Suttling Wench, with a Bottle of Brandy under her Arm. Let that be as it will, he managed Matters ſo well, that ſhe went away big-bellied, and was at length brought to Bed of a little Cupid. This Boy, whether it were by Reaſon of any bad Food that his Father had eaten during the Siege, or of any particular Malignity in the Stars that reigned at his Nativity, came into the World with a very ſickly Look, and crazy Conſtitution. As ſoon as he was able to handle his Bow, he made Diſcoveries of a moſt perverſe Diſpoſition. He dipped all his Arrows in Poiſon, that rotted every Thing they touched; and what was more particular, aimed all his Shafts at the Noſe, quite contrary to the Practice of his elder Brothers, who had made a humane Heart their Burt in all Countries and Ages. To break him of this Roguiſh Trick, his Parents put him to School to Mercury, who did all he could to hinder him from demoliſhing the Noſes of Mankind; but in Spight of Education, the Boy continued very unlucky; and tho' his Malice was a little ſoftened by good Inſtructions, he would very frequently let fly an invenomed Arrow, and wound his Votaries oftner in the Noſe than in the Heart. Thus far the Fable.

I need not tell my learned Reader, that Correggio has drawn a Cupid taking his Leſſon from Mercury, conformable to this Poem; nor that the Poem it ſelf was deſigned as a Burleſque upon Fracaſtorius.

It was a little after this fatal Siege of Naples that Talicotius begun to practiſe in a Town of Germany. He was the firſt Clap-Doctor that I meet with in Hiſtory, and a greater Man in his Age than our celebrated Dr. Wall. He ſaw his Species extremely mutilated and disfigured by this new Diſtemper that was crept into it; and therefore, in Purſuance of a very ſeaſonable Invention, [316] ſet up a Manufacture of Noſes, havin [...] firſt got a Patent that none ſhould preſume t [...] make Noſes beſides himſelf. His firſt Patien [...] was a great Man of Portugal, who had done goo [...] Services to his Country, but in the Midſt of the [...] unfortunately loſt his Noſe. Talicotius grafted [...] new one on the remaining Part of the Griſtle o [...] Cartilaginous Subſtance, which would ſneeze [...] ſmell, take Snuff, pronounce the Letters M. or N [...] and in ſhort, do all the Functions of a Genuine and Natural Noſe. There was however one Miſfortune in this Experiment: The Portugueſe's Complexion was a little upon the Subfusk, with very black Eyes and dark Eyebrows; and the Noſe being taken from a Porter that had a white German Skin, and cut out of thoſe Parts that are not expoſed to the Sun, it was very viſible that the Features of his Face were not Fellows. In a Word, the Comdé reſembled one of thoſe maimed antique Statues that has often a modern Noſe of freſh Marble glewed to a Face of ſuch a yellow Ivory Complexion as nothing can give but Age. To remedy this Particular for the future, the Doctor got together a great Collection of Porters, Men of all Complexions, black, brown, fair, dark, ſallow, pale, and ruddy; ſo that it was impoſſible for a Patient of the moſt out-of-the-way Colour not to find a Noſe to match it.

The Doctor's Houſe was now very much enlarged, and become a Kind of College, or rather Hoſpital, for the faſhionable Cripples of both Sexes that reſorted to him from all Parts of Europe. Over his Door was faſtened a large Golden Snout, not unlike that which is placed over the great Gates at Brazen-Noſe College in Oxford; and as it is uſual for the Learned in Foreign Univerſities to diſtinguiſh their Houſes by a Latin Sentence, the Doctor writ underneath this great Golden Proboſcis Two Verſes out of Ovid:

[317]
Militat omnis Amans, habet & ſua Caſtra Cupido,
Pontice, crede mihi, militat omnis Amans.

It is reported, That Talicotius had at one Time in his Houſe Twelve German Counts, Nineteen French Marquiſſes, and a Hundred Spaniſh Cavaliers, beſides One ſolitary Engliſh Eſquire, of whom more hereafter. Tho' the Doctor had the Monopoly of Noſes in his own Hands, he is ſaid not to have been unreaſonable. Indeed if a Man had Occaſion for a high Roman Noſe, he muſt go to the Price of it. A Carbuncle Noſe likewiſe bore an exceſſive Rate: But for your ordinary ſhort turned-up Noſes, of which there was the greateſt Conſumption, they coſt little or nothing; at leaſt the Purchaſers thought ſo, who would have been content to have paid much dearer for them, rather than to have gone without them.

The Sympathy betwixt the Noſe and its Parent was very extraordinary. Hudibras has told us, that when the Porter died, the Noſe dropped of Courſe, in which Caſe it was always uſual to return the Noſe, in order to have it interred with its firſt Owner. The Noſe was likewiſe affected by the Pain as well as Death of the Original Proprietor. An eminent Inſtance of this Nature happen'd to Three Spaniards, whoſe Noſes were all made out of the ſame Piece of Brawn. They found them one Day ſhoot and ſwell extremely; upon which they ſent to know how the Porter did, and heard upon Enquiry, that the Parent of the Noſes had been ſeverely kicked the Day before, and that the Porter kept his Bed on Account of the Bruiſes it had received. This was highly reſented by the Spaniards, who found out the Perſon that had uſed the Porter ſo unmercifully, and treated him in the ſame Manner as if the Indignity had been done to their own Noſes. In this and ſeveral other Caſes it might be ſaid, That the Porters led the Gentlemen by the Noſe.

[318] On the other Hand, if any Thing went a [...] with the Noſe, the Porter felt the Effects of [...] inſomuch that it was generally articled with [...] Patient, that he ſhould not only abſtain from [...] his old Courſes, but ſhould on no Pretence wh [...] ſoever ſmell Pepper, or eat Muſtard; on whi [...] Occaſion, the Part where the Inciſion had be [...] made was ſeized with unſpeakable Twinges a [...] Prickings.

The Engliſhman I before mentioned was ſo ve [...] irregular, and relapſed ſo frequently into the D [...] ſtemper which at firſt brought him to the lear [...] Talicotius, that in the Space of Two Years he wo [...] out Five Noſes, and by that Means ſo torment [...] the Porters, that if he would have given 500 [...] for a Noſe, there was not one of them that wo [...] accommodate him. This young Gentleman w [...] born of honeſt Parents, and paſſed his firſt Yea [...] in Fox-hunting; but accidentally quitting t [...] Woods, and coming up to London, he was [...] charmed with the Beauties of the Play-hou [...] that he had not been in Town Two Days befo [...] he got the Misfortune which carried off this P [...] of his Face. He uſed to be called in Germa [...] The Engliſhman of Five Noſes, and, The Gentl [...] man that had thrice as many Noſes as he h [...] Ears: Such was the Raillery of thoſe Times.

I ſhall cloſe this Paper with an Admonition [...] the young Men of this Town, which I think t [...] more neceſſary, becauſe I ſee ſeveral new fre [...] coloured Faces, that have made their firſt A [...] pearance in it this Winter. I muſt therefore a [...] ſure them, that the Art of making Noſes is e [...] tirely loſt; and in the next Place, beg them not [...] follow the Example of our ordinary Town Rake [...] who live as if there was a Talicotius to be met wit [...] at the Corner of every Street. Whatever youn [...] Men may think, the Noſe is a very becoming P [...] of the Face, and a Man makes but a very ſilly Figu [...] without it. But it is the Nature of Youth n [...] [319] to know the Value of any Thing till they have loſt it. The general Precept therefore I ſhall leave with them is, to regard every Town-Woman as a particular Kind of Siren, that has a Deſign upon their Noſes; and that, amidſt her Flatteries and Allutements, they will fancy ſhe ſpeaks to 'em in that humorous Phraſe of old Plautus:

Ego tibi Faciem denaſabo mordicus.
' Keep your Face out of my Way, or I'll bite off your Noſe.

The TATLER. [No 261.
From Thurſd. Dec. 7. to Saturd. Dec. 9. 1710.

IT is the Duty of all who make Philoſophy the Entertainment of their Lives, to turn their Thoughts to practical Schemes for the Good of Society, and not paſs away their Time in fruitleſs Searches, which tend rather to the Oſtentation of Knowledge than the Service of Life. For this Reaſon I cannot for bear reading even the common Bills that are daily put into People's Hands as they paſs the Streets, which give us Notice of the preſent Reſidence, the paſt Travels, and infallible Medicines of Doctors uſeful in their Generation, though much below the Character of the renowned Talicotius: But upon a nice Calculation of the Succeſſes of ſuch Adepts, I find their Labours tend moſtly to the enriching only one Sort of Men, that is to ſay, the Society of Upholders. From this Obſervation, and many other which occur to me when I am numbering the good People of Great Britain, I cannot but favour any Propoſal which tends to repairing the Loſſes we ſuſtain [320] by eminent Cures. The beſt I have met with i [...] this Kind, has been offered to my Conſideratio [...] and recommended by a Letter, ſubſcribed Thoma [...] Clement. The Title to his printed Articles ru [...] thus: By the Profitable Society at the Wheat-Shea [...] over-againſt Tom's Coffee-houſe in Ruſſel-Street, Covent-Garden, new Propoſals for promoting a Contribution towards raiſing Two Hundred and Fifty Pounds to be made on the Baptizing of any Infant born in Wedlock. The Plan is laid with ſuch proper Regulations, as ſerves (to ſuch as fall in with it for the Sake of their Poſterity) all the Uſes, without any of the Inconveniencies of Sentlements. By this Means, ſuch whoſe Fortunes depend upon their own Induſtry, or Perſonal Qualifications, need not be deterred by Fear of Poverty from that State which Nature and Reaſon preſcribe to us as the Fountain of the greateſt Happineſs in Humane Life. The Cenſors of Rome had Power veſted in them to lay Taxes on the unmarried; and I think I cannot ſhow my Impartiality better than in enquiring into the extravagant Privileges my Brother Batchelors enjoy, and fine them accordingly. I ſhall not allow a ſingle Life in one Set to be reproached, and held in Eſteem in the other. It would not, methinks, be amiſs, if an old Batchelor, who lives in Contempt of Matrimony, were obliged to give a Portion to an old Maid who is willing to enter into it. At the ſame Time I muſt allow, that thoſe who can plead Courtſhip, and were unjuſtly rejected, ſhall not be liable to the Pains and Penalties of Celibacy. But ſuch as pretend an Averſion to the whole Sex, becauſe they were ill treated by a particular Female, and cover their Senſe of Diſappointment in Women under a Contempt of their Favour, ſhall be proceeded againſt as Batchelors Convict. I am not without Hopes, that from this ſlight Warning, all the unmarried Men of Fortune, Taſt, and Refinement, will, without further Delay, become Lovers [321] and humble Servants to ſuch of their Ac [...]uaintance as are moſt agreeable to them, under [...]ain of my Cenſures: And it is to be hoped, the [...]eſt of the World, who remain ſingle for fear of the [...]ncumbrances of Wedlock, will become Subſcri [...]ers to Mr. Clement's Propoſal. By theſe Means [...]e ſhall have a much more numerous Account of [...]irths in the Year 1711, than any ever before [...]nown in Great Britain, where meerly to be born [...] a Diſtinction of Providence, greater than being [...]orn to a Fortune in another Place.

As I was going on in the Conſideration of this good Office which Mr. Clement propoſes to do his Country, I received the following Letter, which ſeems to be dictated by a like modeſt and publick Spirit, that makes Uſe of me alſo in its Deſign of obliging Mankind.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

IN the Royal Lottery for a Million and an half, I had the good Fortune of obtaining a Prize. From before the Drawing I had devoted a Fifth of whatever ſhould ariſe to me to Charitable Uſes. Accordingly I lately troubled you with my Requeſt and Commiſſion for placing half a Dozen Youths with Mr. More, Writing-Maſter in Caſtle-ſtreet, to whom, it is ſaid, we owe all the fine Devices, Flouriſhes, and the Compoſure of all the Plates, for the Drawing and paying the Tickets. Be pleaſed therefore, good Sir, to find or make Leiſure for complying therewith, for I would not appear concerned in this ſmall Matter. I am very much

Your humble Servant, &c.

It is no ſmall Pleaſure to obſerve, that in the midſt of a very degenerate Age, ſtill Spirits which retain their natural Dignity, and purſue the Good of their Fellow Creatures: Some in [322] making themſelves uſeful by profeſſed Servi [...] ſome by ſecret Generoſity. Were I at Liberty [...] diſcover even all the Good I know of many M [...] living at this Time, there would want nothi [...] but a ſuitable Hiſtorian to make them appear [...] illuſtrious as any of the nobleſt of the old Gree [...] or Romans. The Cunning ſome have uſed to [...] handſome and worthy Actions, the Addreſs to [...] Men Services, and eſcape their Notice, has produced ſo many ſurprizing Incidents, (which hav [...] been laid before me during my Cenſorſhip) a [...] in the Opinion of Poſterity, would abſolve thi [...] Age of all its Crimes and Follies. I know n [...] Way to deal with ſuch delicate Minds as theſe, but by aſſuring them, that when they ceaſe to do Good, I ſhall tell all the Good they have done already. Let therefore the Benefactor to the Youths above-mentioned continue ſuch Bounties, upon Pain of being publickly praiſed. But there is no Probability of his running into that Hazard; for a ſtrong Habit of Virtue can make Men ſuſpend the receiving Acknowledgments due to their Merit, till they are out of a Capacity of receiving them. I am ſo very much charmed with Accidents of this Kind, that I have made a Collection of all the memorable handſome Things done by private Men in my Time. As a Specimen of my Manner of noting ſuch Actions, take the following Fragment out of much more which is written in my Year-Book on the remarkable Will of a Gentleman, whom I ſhall here call Celamico.

This Day died that plain and excellent Man, my much honoured Friend Celamico, who bequeathed his whole Eſtate to a Gentleman no Way related to him, and to whom he had given no ſuch Expectation in his Life-time.

He was a Perſon of a very enlarged Soul, and thought the neareſt Relation among Men to be the Reſemblance of their Minds and Sentiments. He [323] was not miſtaken in the Worth of his Succeſſor, who received the News of this unexpected good Fortune with an Air that ſhowed him leſs moved with the Benefit, than the Loſs of the Benefactor.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Notice is hereby given, That on Monday the 11th Inſtant, the Caſe of the Viſit comes on, between the Hours of Ten and Eleven, at the Court of Honour; where both Perſons are to attend, the Meeting there not being to be underſtood as a Viſit, and the Right of the next Viſit being then to be wholly ſettled, according to the Prayer of the Plaintiff.

The TATLER. [No 262.
From Saturday Dec. 9. to Tueſday Dec. 12. 1710.

Verba Togae ſequeris, Juncturâ callidus acri,
Ore teres modico, pallentes radere Mores,
Doctus & ingenuo Culpam defigere Ludo.
Perſ. Sat. 5.

Journal of the Court of Honour, &c.

TImothy Treatall Gent. was indicated by ſeveral Ladies of his Siſters Acquaintance for a very rude Affront offered to them at an Entertainment, to which he had invited them on Tueſday the 7th of November laſt paſt, between the Hours of Eight and Nine in the Evening. The Indictment ſet forth, That the ſaid Mr. Treatall, upon the Serving up of the Supper, deſired the Ladies to take their Places according to their different Age and Seniority, for that it was the Way always at his Table to pay Reſpect to Years. The ind ctment added, That this produced an unſpeakable [324] Confuſion in the Company; for that the Ladies who before had preſſed together for a Placo at the upper End of the Table, immediately crowded with the ſame Diſorder towards the End that was quite oppoſite; That Mrs. Frontly had the Inſoleuce to clap her ſelf down at the very loweſt Place of the Table; That the Widow Partlett ſeated her ſelf on the Right Hand of Mrs. Frontly, alledging for her Excuſe, that no Ceremony was to be uſed at a Round Table; That Mrs. Fidges and Mrs. Feſcue diſputed above half an Hour for the ſame Chair, and that the latter would not give up the Cauſe till it was decided by the Pariſh Regiſter, which happened to be kept hard by. The Indictment further ſaid. That the reſt of the Company who ſat down, did it with a Reſerve to their Right, which they were at Liberty to aſſert on another Occaſion; and that Mrs. Mary Pippe, an old Maid, was placed by the unanimous Vote of the whole Company at the upper End of the Table, from whence ſhe had the Confuſion to behold ſeveral Mothers of Families among her Inferiors. The Criminal alledged in his Defence, That what he had done, was to raiſe Mirth, and avoid Ceremony, and that the Ladies did not complain of his Rudeneſs till the next Morning, having eaten up what he had provided for them with great Readineſs and Alacrity. The Cenſor frowning upon him, told him, That he ought not to diſcover ſo much Levity in Matters of a ſerious Nature, and (upon the Jury's bringing him in guilty) ſentenced him to treat the whole Aſſembly of Ladies over again, and to take Care that he did it with the Decorum which was due to Perſons of their Quality.

Rebecoa Shapely, Spinſter, was indicted by Mrs. Sarah Smack, for ſpeaking many Words reſiecting upon her Reputation, and the Heels of her Silk Slippers, which the Priſoner had maliciouſiy ſuggeſted to be two Inches higher than [325] they really were. The Proſecutor urged, as an Aggravation of her Guilt, That the Priſoner was her ſelf guilty of the ſame Kind of Forgery which ſhe had laid to the Proſecutor's Charge, for that ſhe the ſaid Rebecca Shapely did always wear a Pair of Steel Bodice, and a falſe Rump. The Cenſor ordered the Slippers to be produced in open Court, where the Heels were adjudged to be of the Statutable Size. He then ordered the Grand Jury to ſearch the Criminal, who, after ſome Time ſpent therein, acquitted her of the Bodice, but found her guilty of the Rump; upon which ſhe received Sentence as is uſual in ſuch Caſes.

William Trippit Eſquire, of the Middle-Temple, brought his Action againſt the Lady Elizabeth Prudely, for having refuſed him her Hand as he offered to lead her to her Coach from the Opera. The Plaintiff ſet forth, That he had entred himſelf into the Liſt of thoſe Volunteers who officiate every Night behind the Boxes as Gentlemen-Uſhers of the Play-houſe; That he had been at a conſiderable Charge in white Gloves, Periwigs, and Snuff-Boxes, in order to qualify himſelf for that Employment, and in Hopes of making his Fortune by it. The Council for the Defendant reply'd, That the Plaintiff had given out that he was within a Month of wedding their Client, and that ſhe had refuſed her Hand to him in Ceremony, leſt he ſhould interpret it as a Promiſe that ſhe would give it him in Marriage. As ſoon as their Pleadings on both Sides were finiſhed, the Cenſor ordered the Plaintiff to be caſhier'd from his Office of Gentleman-Uſher to the Play-houſe, ſince it was too plain that he had undertaken it with an ill Deſign; and at the ſame Time ordered the Defendant either to marry the ſaid Plaintiff, or to pay him Half a Crown for the new Pair of Gloves and Coach-hire that he was at the Expence of in her Service.

[326] The Lady Townly brought an Action of Debt againſt Mrs. Flambeau, for that the ſaid Mrs. Flambeau had not been to ſee the ſaid Lady Townly, and wiſh her Joy, ſince her Marriage with Sir Ralph, notwithſtanding ſhe the ſaid Lady Townly had paid Mrs. Flambeau a Viſit upon her firſt coming to Town. It was urged in the Behalf of the Defendant, That the Plaintiff had never given her any regular Notice of her being in Town; That the Viſit ſhe alledged had been made on a Monday, which ſhe knew was a Day on which Mrs. Flambeau was always abroad, having ſet aſide that only Day in the Week to mind the Affairs of her Family; That the Servant who enquired whether ſhe was at Home, did not give the Viſiting-Knock; That it was not between the Hours of Five and Eight in the Evening; That there was no Candles lighted up; That it was not on Mrs. Flambeau's Day; and in ſhort, That there was not one of the eſſential Points obſerved that conſtitute a Viſit. She further proved by her Porter's Book, which was produced in Court, that ſhe had paid the Lady Townly a Viſit on the Twenty fourth Day of March, juſt before her leaving the Town, in the Year 1709-10, for which ſhe was ſtill Creditor to the ſaid Lady Townly. To this the Plaintiff only replied, That ſhe was now under Covert, and not liable to any Debts contracted when ſhe was a ſingle Woman. Mr. Bickerſtaff finding the Cauſe to be very intricate, and that ſeveral Points of Honour were likely to ariſe in it, he deferred giving Judgment upon it till the next Seſſion Day, at which Time he ordered the Ladies on his Left Hand to preſent to the Court a Table of all the Laws relating to Viſits.

Winifred Lear brought her Action againſt Richard Sly, for having broken a Marriage Contract, and wedded another Woman, after he had engaged himſelf to marry the ſaid Winifred Lear. She alledged, That he had ogled her twice ar an Opera, [327] thrice in St. James's Church, and once at Powel's Puppet-Show, at which Time he promiſed her Marriage by a Side-Glance, as her Friend could teſtify that ſat by her. Mr. Bickerſtaff finding that the Defendant had made no further Overture of Love or Marriage, but by Looks, and Ocular Engagement; yet at the ſame Time conſidering how very apt ſuch impudent Seducers are to lead the Ladies Hearts aſtray, ordered the Criminal to ſtand upon the Stage in the Haymarket, between each Act of the next Opera, there to be expoſed to publick View as a falſe Ogler.

Upon the Riſing of the Court, Mr. Bickerſtaff having taken one of theſe Counterfeits in the very Fact as he was ogling a Lady of the Grand Jury, ordered him to be ſeized, and proſecuted upon the Statute of Ogling. He likewiſe directed the Clerk of the Court to draw up an Edict againſt theſe common Cheats, that make Women believe they are diſtracted for them by ſtaring them out of Countenance, and often blaſt a Lady's Reputation whom they never ſpoke to, by ſaucy Looks and diſtant Familiarities.

The TATLER. [No 263.
From Tueſday Dec. 12. to Thurſday Dec. 14. 1710.

— Minimâ contentos Nocte Britannos.
Juv. Sat. 2.

AN old Friend of mine being lately come to Town, I went to ſee him on Tuſday laſt about Eight a Clock in the Evening, with a Deſign to ſit with him an Hour or two, and talk over old Stories; but upon enquiring after him, his Servant told me he was juſt gone to Bed. The next Morning, as ſoon as I was up and dreſſed, and had diſpatched [328] a little Buſineſs, I came again to my Friend's Houſe about Eleven a Clock, with a Deſign to renew my Viſit; but upon asking for him, his Servant told me he was juſt ſat down to Dinner. In ſhort, I found that my old faſhioned Friend religiouſly adhered to the Example of his Fore-fathers, and obſerved the ſame Hours that had been kept in the Family ever ſince the Conqueſt.

It is very plain, that the Night was much longer formerly in this Iſland than it is at preſent. By the Night, I mean that Portion of Time which Nature has thrown into Darkneſs, and which the Wiſdom of Mankind had formerly dedicated to Reſt and Silence. This uſed to begin at Eight a Clock in the Evening, and conclude at Six in the Morning. The Corfeu, or Eight a Clock Bell, was the Signal throughout the Nation for putting out their Candles and going to Bed.

Our Grandmothers, tho' they were wont to ſit up the laſt in the Family, were all of them faſt aſleep at the ſame Hours that their Daughters are buſy at Crimp and Baſſet. Modern Stateſmen are concerting Schemes, and engaged in the Depth of Politicks, at the Time when their Fore-fathers were laid down quietly to Reſt, and had nothing in their Heads but Dreams. As we have thus thrown Buſineſs and Pleaſure into the Hours of Reſt, and by that Means made the natural Night but half as long as it ſhould be, we are forced to piece it out with a great Part of the Morning; ſo that near Two thirds of the Nation lie faſt aſleep for ſeveral Hours in broad Day-light. This Irregularity is grown ſo very faſhionable at preſent, that there is ſcarce a Lady of Quality in Great Britain that ever ſaw the Sun riſe. And if the Humour encreaſes in Proportion to what it has done of late Years, it is not impoſſible but our Children may hear the Bell-Man going about the Streets at Nine a Clock in the Morning, and the [329] Watch making their Rounds till Eleven. This unaccountable Diſpoſition in Mankind to continue awake in the Night, and ſleep in Sunſhine, has made me enquire, Whether the ſame Change of Inclination has happened to any other Animals? For this Reaſon I deſired a Friend of mine in the Country to let me know, Whether the Lark riſes as early as he did formerly? And whether the Cock begins to crow at his uſual Hour? My Friend has anſwered me, That his Poultry are as regular as ever, and that all the Birds and the Beaſts of his Neighbourhood keep the ſame Hours that they have obſerved in the Memory of Man; and the ſame which, in all Probability, they have kept for theſe Five Thouſand Years.

If you would ſee the Innovations that have been made among us in this Particular, you may only look into the Hours of Colleges, where they ſtill dine at Eleven, and ſup at Six, which were doubtleſs the Hours of the whole Nation at the Time when thoſe Places were founded. But at preſent the Courts of Juſtice are ſcarce opened in Weſtminſter-Hall at the Time when William Rufus uſed to go to Dinner in it. All Buſineſs is driven forward: The Land Marks of our Fathers (if I may ſo call them) are removed, and planted further up into the Day; inſomuch that I am afraid our Clergy will be obliged (if they expect full Congregations) not to look any more upon Ten a Clock in the Morning as a Canonical Hour. In my own Memory the Dinner has crept by Degrees from Twelve a Clock to Three, and where it will fix no Body knows.

I have ſometimes thought to draw up a Memorial in the Behalf of Supper againſt Dinner, ſetting forth, That the ſaid Dinner has made ſeveral Encroachments upon the ſaid Supper, and entered very far upon his Frontiers; That he has baniſhed him out of ſeveral Families, and in all has driven him from his Head Quarters, and forced him to [330] make his Retreat into the Hours of Midnig [...] and in ſhort, That he is now in Danger of be [...] entirely confounded and loſt in a Breakfaſt. Th [...] who have read Lucian, and ſeen the Complai [...] of the Letter T. againſt S. upon Account of ma [...] Injuries and Uſurpations of the ſame Nature, [...] not, I believe, think ſuch a Memorial forced a [...] unnatural. If Dinner has been thus poſtpo [...] or (if you pleaſe) kept back from Time to Ti [...] you may be ſure that it has been in Complia [...] with the other Buſineſs of the Day, and that Su [...] per has ſtill obſerved a proportionable Diſtanc [...] There is a venerable Proverb, which we have a [...] of us heard in our Infancy, of putting the Child [...] to Bed, and laying the Gooſe to the Fire. This w [...] one of the Jocular Sayings of our Fore-fathers, [...] may be properly uſed in the Literal Senſe at p [...] ſent. Who would not wonder at this perver [...] Reliſh of thoſe who are reckoned the moſt po [...] Part of Mankind, that prefer Sea-Coals and Ca [...] dles to the Sun, and exchange ſo many chearf [...] Morning Hours for the Pleaſures of Midnig [...] Revels and Debauches? If a Man was only [...] conſult his Health, he would chuſe to live h [...] whole Time (if poſſible) in Day-light, and to [...] tire out of the World into Silence and Slee [...] while the raw Damps and unwholeſome Vapo [...] fly Abroad without a Sun to diſperſe, modera [...] or controul them. For my own Part, I value [...] Hour in the Morning as much as common Libe [...] tines do an Hour at Midnight. When I find [...] ſelf awakened into Being, and perceive my Li [...] renewed within me, and at the ſame Time f [...] the whole Face of Nature recovered out of th [...] dark uncomfortable State in which it lay for [...] veral Hours, my Heart overflows with ſuch ſec [...] Sentiments of Joy and Gratitude as are a Kind [...] implicit Praiſe to the great Author of Nature [...] The Mind in theſe early Seaſons of the Day is [...] refreſhed in all its Faculties, and born up wi [...] [331] ſuch new Supplies of Animal Spirits, that ſhe finds her ſelf in a State of Youth, eſpecially when ſhe is entertained with the Breath of Flowers, the Melody of Birds, the Dews that hang upon the Plants, and all thoſe other Sweets of Nature that are peculiar to the Morning.

It is impoſſible for a Man to have this Reliſh of Being, this exquiſite Taſt of Life, who does not come into the World before it is in all its Noiſe and Hurry; who loſes the Riſing of the Sun, the ſtill Hours of the Day, and immediately upon his firſt getting up plunges himſelf into the ordinary Cares or Follies of the World.

I ſhall conclude this Paper with Milton's inimitable Deſcription of Adam's awakening his Eve in Paradiſe, which indeed would have been a Place as little delightful as a barren Heath or Deſert to thoſe who ſlept in it. The Fondneſs of the Poſture in which Adam is repreſented, and the Softneſs of his Whiſper, are Paſſages in this Divine Poem that are above all Commendation, and rather to be admired than praiſed.

Now Morn her Roſie Steps in th' Eaſtern Clime
Advancing, ſow'd the Earth with Orient Pearl,
When Adam wak'd, ſo cuſtom'd; for his Sleep
Was Airy-light from pure Digeſtion bred,
And temperate Vapours bland, which th' only Sound
Of Leaves and fuming Rills, Aurora's Fan
Lightly diſpers'd, and the ſhrill Matin Song
Of Birds on ev'ry Bough; ſo much the more
His Wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve
With Treſſes diſcompos'd, and glowing Cheek,
As through unquiet Reſt: He on his Side
Leaning half rais'd, with Looks of Cordial Love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which whether making or aſleep,
Shot forth peculiar Graces. Then with Voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breaths,
Her Hand ſoft touching, whiſper'd thus; Awake,
[332] My faireſt, my eſpous'd, my lateſt found,
Heav'n's laſt beſt Gift, my ever new Delight,
Awake, the Morning ſhines, and the freſh Field
Calls us; we loſe the Prime, to mark how ſpri [...]
Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Gre [...]
What drops the Myrrh, and what the Balmy Ree [...]
Now Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee
Sits on the Bloom extracting liquid Sweet.
Such Whiſp'ring wak'd her, but with ſtartled E [...]
On Adam, whom embracing, thus ſhe ſpake:
O Sole! in whom my Thoughts find all Repoſe,
My Glory, my Perfection, glad I ſee
Thy Face, and Morn return'd. —

The TATLER. [No 264
From Thurſd. Dec. 14. to Saturd. Dec. 16. 1710.

Favete Linguis. —
Hor.

BOccalim, in his Parnaſſus, indicts a Laconick Writer for ſpeaking that in Three Words which he might have ſaid in Two, and ſentences him for his Puniſhment to read over all the Works of Guicciardin. This Guicciardin is ſo very prolix and circumſtantial in his Writing, that I remember our Countryman Dr. Don, ſpealing of that Majeſtick and Conciſe Manner is which Moſes has deſcribed the Creation of the World, adds, ‘"That if ſuch an Author as Guicciardin were to have written on ſuch a Subject, the World it ſelf would not have been able to have contained the Books that gave the Hiſtory of its Creation.'’

I look upon a tedious Talker, or what is generally known by the Name of a Story-Teller, to [333] [...]e much more inſufferable than even a prolix Wri [...]r. An Author may be toſs'd out of your Hand, [...]d thrown aſide when he grows dull and tire [...]me; but ſuch Liberties are ſo far from being al [...]ed towards your Orators in common Conver [...]tion, that I have known a Challenge ſent a Per [...]n for going out of the Room abruptly, and lea [...]ng a Man of Honour in the Midſt of a Diſſerta [...]on. This Evil is at preſent ſo very Common and [...]pidemical, that there's ſcarce a Coffee-houſe in [...]own that has not ſome Speakers belonging to it, [...]ho utter their Political Eſſays, and draw Paral [...]ls out of Baker's Chronicle to almoſt every Part [...]f Her Majeſty's Reign. It was ſaid of two an [...]ent Authors who had very different Beauties in [...]eir Style, That if you took a Word from one of [...]em, you only ſpoiled his Eloquence; but if you [...]ok a Word from the other, you ſpoiled his Senſe. [...] have often applied the firſt Part of this Criticiſm [...] ſeveral of theſe Coffee-houſe Speakers whom I [...]ave at preſent in my Thoughts, tho' the Cha [...]acter that is given to the laſt of thoſe Authors is what I would recommend to the Imitation of my [...]oving Countrymen: But it is not only publick Places of Reſort, but private Clubs and Conver [...]ations over a Bottle, that are infeſted with this [...]oquacious Kind of Animal, eſpecially with that [...]pecies which I comprehend under the Name of [...] Story-Teller. I would earneſtly deſire theſe Gentlemen to conſider, that no Point of Wit or Mirth at the End of a Story can attone for the Half-Hour that has been loſt before they come at [...]t. I would likewiſe lay it home to their ſerious Conſideration, Whether they think that every Man in the Company has not a Right to ſpeak as well as themſelves? And whether they do not [...]hink they are invading another Man's Property, when they engroſs the Time which ſhould be di [...]ided equally amongſt the Company to their own [...]rivate Uſe?

[334] What makes this Evil the much greater in Converſation is, that theſe Humdrum Companion [...] ſeldom endeavour to wind up their Narrations into a Point of Mirth or Inſtruction, which might make ſome Amends for the Tediouſneſs of them, but think they have a Right to tell any Thing that has happened within their Memory. They look upon Matter of Fact to be a ſufficient Foundation for a Story, and give us a long Account of Things, not becauſe they are entertaining or ſurprizing, but becauſe they are true.

My ingenious Kinſman, Mr. Humphrey Wagſtaff uſes to ſay, The Life of Man is too ſhort for a Story-Teller.

Methuſalem might be half an Hour in telling what a Clock it was; but as for us Poſtdiluvians, we ought to do every Thing in Haſt; and in our Speeches, as well as Actions, remember that our Time is ſhort. A Man that talks for a Quarter of an Hour together in Company, if I meet him frequently, takes up a great Part of my Span. A Quarter of an Hour may be reckoned the Eight and fortieth Part of a Day, a Day the Three hundred and ſixtieth Part of a Year, and a Year the Threeſcore and tenth Part of Life. By this moral Arithmetick, ſuppoſing a Man to be in the Talking World one third Part of the Day, whoever gives another a Quarter of an Hour's Hearing, makes him a Sacrifice of more than the Four hundred thouſandth Part of his Converſable Life.

I would eſtabliſh but one great general Rule to be obſerved in all Converſation, which is this, That Men ſhould not talk to pleaſe themſelves, but thoſe that hear them. This would make them conſider, Whether what they ſpeak be worth Hearing? Whether there be either Wit or Senſe in what they are about to ſay? And, Whether it be adapted to the Time when, the Place where, and the Perſon to whom, it is ſpoken?

[335] For the utter Extirpation of theſe Orators and [...]ry-Tellers, which I look upon as very great [...]ts of Society, I have invented a Watch, which [...]ides the Minute into Twelve Parts, after the [...]e Manner that the ordinary Watches are di [...]ded into Hours; and will endeavour to get a [...]tent, which ſhall oblige every Club or Com [...]ny to provide themſelves with one of theſe [...]atches (that ſhall lie upon the Table as an [...]our-Glaſs is often placed near the Pulpit) to [...]eaſure out the Length of a Diſcourſe.

I ſhall be willing to allow a Man one Round of [...]y Watch, that is, a whole Minute to ſpeak in; [...]t if he exceeds that Time, it ſhall be lawful for [...]y of the Company to look upon the Watch, or [...] call him down to Order.

Provided however, That if any one can make [...] appear he is turned of Threeſcore, he may take [...]o, or, if he pleaſes, three Rounds of the Watch [...]ithout giving Offence. Provided alſo, That this [...]ule be not conſtrued to extend to the Fair Sex, [...]ho ſhall ſtill be at Liberty to talk by the ordi [...]ary Watch that is now in Uſe. I would likewiſe [...]rneſtly recommend this little Automaton, which [...]ay be eaſily carried in the Pocket without any [...]cumbrance, to all ſuch as are troubled with this [...]firmity of Speech, that upon pulling out their Watches, they may have frequent Occaſion to [...]onſider what they are doing, and by that Means [...]t the Thread of their Story ſhort, and hurry to [...] Concluſion. I ſhall only add, That this Watch, [...]ith a Paper of Directious how to uſe it, is ſold [...] Charles Lillie's.

I am afraid, a Tatler will be thought a very im [...]oper Paper to cenſure this Humour of being [...]alkative; but I would have my Readers know, [...]at there is a great Difference between Tattle and [...]oquacity, as I ſhall ſhow at large in a following [...]ucubration, it being my Deſign to throw away [336] a Candle upon that Subject, in order to expla the whole Art of Tattling in all its Branches as Subdiviſions.

The TATLER. [No 265
From Saturday Dec. 16. to Tueſday Dec. 19. 1710

Arbiter hic igitur factus de Lite Jocoſâ
Ovid. Me [...]

Continuation of the Journal of the Court of Honour, &c.

AS ſoon as the Court was ſat, the Ladies of the Bench preſented, according to Order, a Table of all the Laws now in Force relating to Viſits and Viſiting-Days, methodically digeſted under their reſpective Heads, which the Cenſor ordered to be laid upon the Table, and afterwards proceeded upon the Buſineſs of the Day.

Henry Heedleſs Eſq was indicted by Colonel Touchy, of Her Majeſty's Trained-Bands, upon an Action of Aſſault and Battery; for that he the ſaid Mr. Heedleſs having eſpied a Feather upon the Shoulder of the ſaid Colonel, ſtruck it of gently with the End of a Walking-Staff, Value Three Pence. It appeared, That the Proſecutor did not think himſelf injured till a few Days after the aforeſaid Blow was given him; but that having ruminated with himſelf for ſeveral Days, and conferred upon it with other Officers of the Militia, he concluded, that he had in Effect been cudgelled by Mr. Heedleſs, and that he ought to reſent it accordingly. The Council for the Proſecutor alledged, That the Shoulder was the tendereſt Part in a Man of Honour; That it [337] [...]ad a natural Antipathy to a Stick, and that [...]ery Touch of it, with any Thing made in the [...]aſhion of a Cane, was to be interpreted as a [...]ound in that Part, and a Violation of the Per [...]n's Honour who received it. Mr. Heedleſs re [...]lied, That what he had done was out of Kind [...]eſs to the Proſecutor, as not thinking it proper [...]r him to appear at the Head of the Trained- [...]ands with a Feather upon his Shoulder; and [...]rther added, That the Stick he had made uſe of [...]n this Occaſion was ſo very ſmall, that the Pro [...]cutor could not have felt it, had he broken it [...] his Shoulders. The Cenſor hereupon directed [...]e Jury to examine into the Nature of the Staff, [...]r that a great deal would depend upon that [...]rticular. Upon which he explained to them [...]e different Degrees of Offence that might be [...]iven by the Touch of Crab-tree from that of [...]ane, and by the Touch of Cane from that of [...] plain Hazle Stick. The Jury, after a ſhort Per [...]ſal of the Staff, declared their Opinion by the [...]outh of their Foreman, That the Subſtance of the [...]aff was Britiſh Oak. The Cenſor then obſer [...]ing that there was ſome Duſt on the Skirts of [...]e Criminal's Coat, ordered the Proſecutor to [...]eat it off with his aforeſaid Oaken Plant; and [...]us, ſaid the Cenſor, I ſhall decide this Cauſe [...] the Law of Retaliation: If Mr. Heedleſs did [...]e Colonel a good Office, the Colonel will by [...]is Means return it in Kind; but if Mr. Heedleſs [...]ould at any Time boaſt that he had cudgelled e Colonel, or laid his Staff over his Shoulders, [...]e Colonel might boaſt in his Turn, that he has [...]uſhed Mr. Heedleſs's Jacket, or (to uſe the [...]raſe of an ingenious Author) that he has rub [...]d him down with an Oaken Towel.

Benjamin Buſy, of London, Merchant, was in [...]ted by Jaſper Tattle Eſq for having pulled out [...] Watch and looked upon it thrice, while the [...]d Eſquire Tattle was giving him an Account [338] of the Funeral of the ſaid Eſquire Tattle's fir [...] Wife. The Priſoner alledged in his Defence [...] Tha [...] he was going to buy Stocks at the Tim [...] when he met the Proſecutor; and that, during the Story of the Proſecutor, the ſaid Stocks roe above Two per Cent. to the great Detriment of the Priſoner. The Priſoner further brought ſeveral Witneſſes. That the ſaid Jaſper Tattle Eſq was a moſt notorious Story-Teller; That before he met the Priſoner, he had hindred one of the Priſoners Acquaintance from the Purſuit of his lawful Buſineſs, with the Account of his Second Marriage; and that he had detained another by the Button of his Coat that very Morning, till he had heard ſeveral witty Sayings and Contrivances of the Proſecutor's eldeſt Son, who was a Boy of about Five Years of Age. Upon the whole Matter, Mr. Bickerſtaff diſmiſſed the Accuſation as frivolous, and ſentenced the Proſecutor to pay Damages to the Priſoner for what the Priſoner had loſt by giving him ſo long and patient an Hearing. He further reprimanded the Proſecutor very ſeverely, and told him, That if he proceeded in his uſual Manner to interrupt the Buſineſs of Mankind, he would ſet a Fi [...] upon him for every Quarter of an Hour's Impertinence, and regulate the ſaid Fine according [...] the Time of the Perſon ſo injured ſhould appear to be more or leſs precious.

Sir Paul Swaſh Kt. was indicted by Peter Double Gent. for not returning the Bow which he received of the ſaid Peter Double, on Wedneſday the 6 Inſtant, at the Play-houſe in the Hay-Market. The Priſoner denied the Receipt of any ſuch Bow, and alledged in his Defence, That the Profecutor would often times look full in his Face, but that when he bowed to the ſaid Proſecutor, he would take no notice of [...] or bow to ſome Body elſe that ſat quite on the othe [...] Side of him. He likewiſe alledged, That ſevera [...] Ladies had complained of the Proſecutor, wh [...] [339] [...]ter ogling them a Quarter of an Hour, upon [...]eir making a Courteſy to him, would not re [...]rn the Civility of a Bow. The Cenſor ob [...]erving ſeveral Glances of the Proſecutor's Eye, [...]nd perceiving, that when he talked to the Court, he looked upon the Jury, found Reaſon [...] ſuſpect that there was a wrong Caſt in his [...]ight, which upon Examination proved true. The Cenſor therefore ordered the Priſoner (that [...]e might not produce any more Confuſions in [...]ublick Aſſemblies) never to bow to any Body whom he did not at the ſame Time call to by his [...]ame.

Oliver Bluff, and Benjamin Browbeat, were in [...]icted for going to fight a Duel ſince the Erection [...]f the Court of Honour. It appeared, That they were both taken up in the Street as they paſſed [...]y the Court, in their Way to the Fields behind Mountague-Houſe. The Criminals would anſwer [...]othing for themſelves, but that they were go [...]ng to execute a Challenge which had been made [...]bove a Week before the Court of Honour was [...]rected. The Cenſor finding ſome Reaſons to [...]uſpect (by the Sturdineſs of their Behaviour) [...]hat they were not ſo very brave as they would [...]ave the Court believe them, ordered them both [...]o be ſearched by the Grand Jury, who found a [...]reaſt-Plate upon the one, and Two Quires of Pa [...]er upon the other. The Breaſt-Plate was immedi [...]tely order'd to be hung upon a Peg over Mr. Bick [...]rſtaff's Tribunal, and the Paper to be laid upon [...]he Table for the Uſe of his Clerk. He then or [...]ered the Criminals to button up their Boſoms, [...]nd, if they pleaſed, proceed to their Duel. Upon which they both went very quietly out [...]f the Court, and retired to their reſpective [...]odgings.

The Court then adjourned till after the Holidays.

Copia Vera,
Charles Lillie.

The TATLER. [No 266.
From Tueſd. Dec. 19. to Thurſd. Dec. 21. 1710.

[340]
Rideat & pulſet laſciva decentius Aetas.
Hor.

IT would be a good Appendix to the Art of Living and Dying, if any one would write the Art of Growing Old, and teach Men to reſign their Pretenſions to the Pleaſures and Gallantries of Youth, in Proportion to the Alteration they find in themſelves by the Approach of Age and Infirmities. The Infirmities of this Stage of Life would be much fewer, if we did not affect thoſe which attend the more vigorous and active Part of our Days; but inſtead of ſtudying to be wiſer, or being contented with our preſent Follies, the Ambition of many of us is alſo to be the ſame Sort of Fools we formerly have been. I have often argued, as I am a profeſſed Lover of Women, that our Sex grows old with a much worſe Grace than the other does; and have ever been of Opinion, that there are more well-pleaſed old Women than old Men. I thought it a good Reaſon for this, that the Ambition of the Fair Sex being confined to advantagious Marriages, or ſhining in the Eyes of Men, their Parts were over ſooner, and conſequently the Errors in the Performance of them. The Converſation of this Evening has not convinced me of the contrary; for one or two Fop Women ſhall not make a Ballance for the Crowds of Coxcombs among our ſelves, diverſified according to the different Purſuits of Pleaſure and Buſineſs.

[341] Returning Home this Evening a little before my uſual Hour, I ſcarce had ſeated my ſelf in my Eaſy Chair, ſtirred the Fire, and ſtroaked my Cat, but I heard ſome Body come rumbling up Stairs. I ſaw my Door opened, and a Humane Figure advancing towards me, ſo fantaſtically put together, 'twas ſome Minutes before I diſcovered it to be my old and intimate Friend Sam. Truſty. Immediately I roſe up, and placed him in my own Seat, a Compliment I pay to few. The firſt Thing he utter'd was, Iſaac, Fetch me a Cup of your Cherry-Brandy before you offer to ask me any Queſtion. He drunk a luſty Draught, ſat ſilent for ſome Time, and at laſt broke out; I am come (quoth he) to inſult Thee for an old fantaſtick Dotard as thou art in ever defending the Women. I have this Evening viſited Two Widows, who are now in that State I have often heard you call an After-Life: I ſuppoſe you mean by it, an Exiſtence which grows out of paſt Entertainments, and is an untimely Delight in the Satisfactions which they once ſet their Hearts upon too much to be ever able to relinquiſh. Have but Patience, (continued he) till I give you a ſuccinct Account of my Ladies, and of this Night's Adventure. They are much of an Age, but very different in their Characters: The one of them, with all the Advances which Years have made upon her, goes on in a certain Romantick Road of Love and Friendſhip which ſhe fell into in her Teens; the other has transferred the amorous Paſſions of her firſt Years to the Love of Cronies, Petts and Favourites, with which ſhe is always ſurrounded; but the Genius of each of them will beſt appear by the Account of what happened to me at their Houſes. About Five this Afternoon, being tired with Study, the Weather inviting, and Time lying a little upon my Hands, I reſolved, at the Inſtigation of my Evil Genius, to viſit them, their Husbands having been our [342] Contemporaries. This I thought I could do withou [...] much Trouble, for both live in the very nex [...] Street. I went firſt to my Lady Camomile, and the Butler, who had lived long in the Family, and ſeen me often in his Maſter's Time, uſhered me very civilly into the Parlour, and told me, Though my Lady had given ſtrict Orders to be denied, he was ſure I might be admitted, and bid the Black-Boy acquaint his Lady, that I was to wait upon her. In the Window lay Two Letters, one broke open, the other freſh ſealed with a Wafer: The firſt directed to the Divine Coſmelia, the ſecond to the Charming Lucinda; but both, by the indented Characters, appeared to have been writ by very unſteady Hands. Such uncommon Addreſſes increaſed my Curioſity, and put me upon asking my old Friend the Butler, If he knew who thoſe Perſons were? Very well, ſays he: This is from Mrs. Furbiſh to my Lady, an old School-Fellow and great Crony of her Ladyſhip's, and this the Anſwer. I enquired in what Country ſhe lived. Oh dear! ſays he, but juſt by in the Neighbourhood. Why, ſhe was here all this Morning, and that Letter came and was anſwered within theſe Two Hours. They have taken an odd Fancy, you muſt know, to call one another hard Names, but for all that they love one another hugely. By this Time the Boy returned with his Lady's humble Service to me, deſiring I would excuſe her, for ſhe could not poſſibly ſee me, nor any Body elſe, for it was Opera Night.

Methinks, (ſays I) ſuch innocent Folly as Two old Women's Courtſhip to each other ſhould rather make you merry, than put you out of Humour. Peace, good Iſaac, (ſays he) no Interruption I beſeech you. I got ſoon to Mrs. Feeble's, ſhe that was formerly Betty Frisk; you muſt needs remember het, Tom. Feeble of Brazen-Noſe fell in Love with her for her fine Dancing. [343] Well, Mrs. Urſula, without further Ceremony, carries me directly up to her Miſtreſs's Chamber, where I found her environ'd by Four of the moſt miſchievous Animals that can ever infeſt a Family: An old Shock Dog with one Eye, a Monkey chaned to one Side of the Chimney, a great grey Squirrel to the other, and a Parrat waddling in the middle of the Room. However, for a while, all was in a profound Tranquillity. Upon the Mantle-Tree, for I am a pretty curious Obſerver, ſtood a Pot of Lambetive Electuary, with a Stick of Liquoriſh, and near it a Phyal of Roſe-Water and Powder of Tutty. Upon the Table lay a Pipe filled with Bettony and Colts-Foot, a Roll of Wax-Candle, a Silver Spitting-Pot, and a Seville Orange. The Lady was placed in a large Wicker Chair, and her Feet wrapped up in Flannel, ſupported by Cuſhions; and in this Attitude (would you believe it Iſaac) was ſhe reading a Romance with Spectacles on. The firſt Compliments over, as ſhe was induſtriouſly endeavouring to enter upon Converſation, a violent Fit of Coughing ſeized her. This awakened Shock, and in a Trice the whole Room was in an Uproar; for the Dog barked, the Squirrel ſquealed, the Monkey chattered, the Parrat ſcreamed, and Urſula, to appeaſe them, was more clamorous than all the reſt. You Iſaac, who know how any harſh Noiſe affects my Head, may gueſs what I ſuffered from the hideous Din of theſe diſcordant Sounds. At length all was appeaſed, and Quiet reſtored: A Chair was drawn for me, where I was no ſooner ſeated, but the Parrat fixed his Horny Beak, as ſharp as a Pair of Sheers, in one of my Heels, juſt above the Shoe. I ſprung from the Place with an unuſual Agility, and ſo being within the Monkey's Reach, he ſnatches off my n [...]w Bob Wig, and throws it upon Two Apples that were roaſting by a ſullen Sea-Coal Fire. I was [344] nimble enough to ſave it from any further Damage than ſingeing the Foretop. I put it on, and compoſing my ſelf as well as I could, I drew my Chair towards the other Side of the Chimney. The good Lady, as ſoon as ſhe had recovered Breath, employed it in making a Thouſand Apologies, and with great Eloquence, and a numerous Train of Words, lamented my Misfortune. In the middle of her Harangue, I felt ſomething ſcratching near my Knee, and feeling what it ſhould be, found the Squirrel had got into my Coat-Pocket. As I endeavoured to remove him from his Burrow, he made his Teeth meet through the Fleſhy Part of my Fore-Finger. This gave me an unexpreſſible Pain. The Hungary Water was immediately brought to bath it, and Gold-beaters Skin applied to ſtop the Blood. The Lady renewed her Excuſes; but being now out of all Patience, I abruptly took my Leave, and hobbling down Stairs with heedleſs Haſt, I ſet my Foot full in a Pail of Water, and down we came to the Bottom together. Here my Friend concluded his Narrative, and, with a compoſed Countenance, I began to make him Compliments of Condoleance; but he ſtarted from his Chair, and ſaid, Iſaac, you may ſpare your Speeches, I expect no Reply: When I told you this, I knew you would laugh at me; but the next Woman that makes me ridiculous ſhall be a young one.

The TATLER. [No 267.
From Thurſd. Dec. 21. to Saturd. Dec. 23. 1710.

[345]
Qui Genus humanum Ingenio ſuperavit, & omnes
Reſtinxit Stellas, exortus uti Aerius Sol.
Lucr.

I Have heard, that it is a Rule among the Conventuals of ſeveral Orders in the Romiſh Church, to ſhut themſelves up at a certain Time of the Year, not only from the World in general, but from the Members of their own Fraternity, and to paſs away ſeveral Days by themſelves in ſettling Accounts between their Maker and their own Souls, in cancelling unrepented Crimes, and renewing their Contracts of Obedience for the future. Such ſtated Times for particular Acts of Devotion, or the Exerciſe of certain religious Duties, have been enjoined in all civil Governments, whatever Deity they worſhipped, or whatever Religion they profeſſed. That which may be done at all Times, is often totally neglected and forgotten, unleſs fixed and determined to ſome Time more than another; and therefore, though ſeveral Duties may be ſuitable to every Day of our Lives, they are moſt likely to be performed if ſome Days are more particularly ſet apart for the Practice of them. Our Church has accordingly inſtituted ſeveral Seaſons of Devotion, when Time, Cuſtom, Preſcription, and (if I may ſo ſay) the Faſhion it ſelf, call upon a Man to be ſerious and attentive to the great End of his Being.

[346] I have hinted in ſome former Papers, that the greateſt and wiſeſt of Men in all Ages and Countries, particularly in Rome and Greece, were renowned for their Piety and Virtue. It is now my Intention to ſhow how thoſe in our own Nation, that have been unqueſtionably the moſt eminent for Learning and Knowledge, were likewiſe the moſt eminent for their Adherence to the Religion of their Country.

I might produce very ſhining Examples from among the Clergy; but becauſe Prieſtcraft is the common Cry of every cavelling empty Scribbler, I ſhall ſhow, that all the Laymen who have exerted a more than ordinary Genius in their Writings, and were the Glory of their Times, were Men whoſe Hopes were filled with Immortality, and the Proſpect of future Rewards, and Men who lived in a dutiful Submiſſion to all the Doctrines of Revealed Religion.

I ſhall in this Paper only inſtance Sir Francis Bacon, a Man who for the Greatneſs of Genius, and Compaſs of Knowledge, did Honour to his Age and Country; I could almoſt ſay to Humane Nature it ſelf. He poſſeſſed at once all thoſe extraordinary Talents which were divided amongſt the greateſt Authors of Antiquity. He had the ſound, diſtinct, comprehenſive Knowledge of Ariſtotle, with all the beautiful Lights, Graces and Embelliſhments, of Cicero. One does not know which to admire moſt in his Writings, the Strength of Reaſon, Force of Style, or Brightneſs of Imagination.

This Author has remarked in ſeveral Parts of his Works, that a thorough Infight into Philoſophy makes a good Believer, and that a Smattering in it naturally produces ſuch a Race of deſpicable Infidels as the little profligate Writers of the preſent Age, whom (I muſt confeſs) I have always accuſed to my ſelf, not ſo much for their Want of Faith as their Want of Learning.

[347] I was infinitely pleaſed to find among the Works of this extraordinary Man a Prayer of his own compoſing, which, for the Elevation of Thought, and Greatneſs of Expreſſion, ſeems rather the Devotion of an Angel than a Man. His principal Fault ſeems to have been the Exceſs of that Virtue which covers a Multitude of Faults. This betrayed him to ſo great an Indulgence towards his Servants, who made a corrupt Uſe of it, that it ſtrip'd him of all thoſe Riches and Honours which a long Series of Merits had heaped upon him. But in this Prayer, at the ſame Time that we find him proſtrating himſelf before the great Mercy-Seat, and humbled under Afflictions which at that Time lay heavy upon him, we ſee him ſupported by the Senſe of his Integrity, his Zeal, his Devotion, and his Love to Mankind, which give him a much higher Figure in the Minds of Thinking Men, than that Greatneſs had done from which he was fallen. I ſhall beg Leave to write down the Prayer it ſelf, with the Title to it, as it was found among his Lordſhip's Papers, written in his own Hand; not being able to furniſh my Reader with an Entertainment more ſuitable to this ſolemn Time.

A Prayer or Pſalm made by my Lord Bacon, Chancellor of England.

MOST gracious Lord God, my merciful Father; from my Youth up my Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter. Thou, O Lord, ſoundeſt and ſearcheſt the Depths and Secrets of all Hearts; Thou acknowledgeſt the Upright of Heart; Thou judgeſt the Hypocrite; Thou pondereſt Men's Thoughts and Doings as in a Ballance; Thou meaſureſt their Intentions as with a Line; Vanity and crooked Ways cannot be hid from Thee.

[348] Remember, O Lord! how thy Servant hath walked before thee; remember what I have firſt ſought, and what hath been principal in my Intentions. I have loved thy Aſſemblies, I have mourned for the Diviſions of thy Church, I have delighted in the Brightneſs of thy Sanctuary. This Vine which thy Right Hand hath planted in this Nation, I have ever prayed unto Thee that it might have the firſt and the latter Rain, and that it might ſtretch her Branches to the Seas, and to the Floods. The State and Bread of the Poor and Oppreſſed have been precious in mine Eyes; I have hated all Cruelty and Hardneſs of Heart; I have (though in a deſpiſed Weed) procured the Good of all Men. If any have been my Enemies, I thought not of them, neither hath the Sun almoſt ſet upon my Diſpleaſure; but I have been as a Dove, free from Superfluity of Maliciouſneſs. Thy Creatures have been my Books, but thy Scriptures much more. I have ſought Thee in the Courts, Fields and Gardens, but I have found Thee in thy Temples.

Thouſands have been my Sins, and Ten Thouſands my Tranſgreſſions, but thy Sanctifications have remained with me, and my Heart (through thy Grace) hath been an unquenched Coal upon thine Altar.

O Lord, my Strength! I have ſince my Youth met with Thee in all my Ways, by thy Fatherly Compaſſions, by thy comfortable Chaſtiſements, and by thy moſt viſible Providence. As thy Favours have increaſed upon me, ſo have thy Corrections; ſo as Thou haſt been always near me, O Lord! And ever as my Worldly Bleſſings were exalted, ſo ſecret Darts from Thee have pierced me; and when I have aſcended before Men, I have deſcended in Humiliation before Thee. And now when I thought moſt of Peace and Honour, thy Hand [349] is heavy upon me, and hath humbled me according to thy former loving Kindneſs, keeping me ſtill in thy Fatherly School, not as a Baſtard, but as a Child. Juſt are thy Judgments upon me for my Sins, which are more in Number than the Sands of the Sea, but have no Proportion to thy Mercies; for what are the Sands of the Sea? Earth, Heavens, and all theſe, are nothing to thy Mercies. Beſides my innumerable Sins, I confeſs before Thee, that I am Debtor to Thee for the gracious Talent of thy Gifts and Graces, which I have neither put into a Napkin, nor put it (as I ought) to Exchangers, where it might have made beſt Profit, but miſpent it in Things for which I was leaſt fit: So I may truly ſay, my Soul hath been a Stranger in the Courſe of my Pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Saviour's Sake, and receive me unto thy Boſom, or guide me in thy Ways.

The TATLER. [No 268.
From Saturd. Dec. 23. to Tueſd. Dec. 26. 1710.

— O te, Bollane, Cerebri
Felicem! Aiebam tacitus, cum quidlibet ille
Garriret. —
Hor.

AT my coming Home laſt Night, I found upon my Table the following Petition or Project, ſent me from Lloyd's Coffee-houſe in the City, with a Preſent of Port Wine, which [350] had been bought at a late Auction held in that Place.

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq Cenſor of Great Britain.

WE the Cuſtomers of this Coffee-houſe, obſerving that you have taken into your Conſideration the great Miſchiefs daily done in this City by Coffee-houſe Orators, do humbly beg Leave to repreſent to you, That this Coffee-houſe being provided with a Pulpit for the Benefit of ſuch Auctions that are frequently made in this Place, it is our Cuſtom, upon the firſt coming in of the News, to order a Youth, who officiates as the Kidney of the Coffee-houſe, to get into the Pulpit, and read every Paper with a loud and diſtinct Voice, while the whole Audience are ſipping their reſpective Liquors. We do therefore, Sir, humbly propoſe, that there be a Pulpit erected within every Coffee-houſe of this City and the adjacent Parts; That one of the Waiters of the Coffee-houſe be nominated as Reader to the ſaid Pulpit; That after the News of the Day has been publiſhed by the ſaid Lecturer, ſome Politician of good Note do aſcend into the ſaid Pulpit; and after having choſen for his Text any Article of the ſaid News, that he do eſtabliſh the Authority of ſuch Article, clear the Doubts that may ariſe thereupon, compare it with Parellel Texts in other Papers, advance upon it wholeſome Points of Doctrine, and draw from it ſalutary Concluſions for the Benefit and Edification of all that hear him. We do likewiſe humbly propoſe, That upon any ſuch Politician's quitting the Pulpit, he ſhall be ſucceeded by any other Orator that finds himſelf moved by the ſame publick Spirit, who ſhall be at full Liberty either to enforce or [351] overthrow what the other has ſaid before him, and may in the ſame Manner be ſucceeded by any other Politician, who ſhall with the ſame Liberty confirm or impugn his Reaſons, ſtrengthen or invalidate his Conjectures, enlarge upon his Schemes, or erect new ones of his own. We do likewiſe further propoſe, That if any Perſon, of what Age or Rank ſoever, do preſume to cavil at any Paper that has been read, or to hold forth upon it longer than the Space of one Minute, that he be immediately ordered up into the Pulpit, there to make good any Thing that he has ſuggeſted upon the Floor. We do likewiſe further propoſe, That if any one plays the Orator in the ordinary Coffee-houſe Converſation, whether it be upon Peace or War, on Plays or Sermons, Buſineſs or Poetry, that he be forth with deſired to take his Place in the Pulpit.

This, Sir, we humbly preſume may in a great Meaſure put a Stop to thoſe ſuperficial Stateſmen who would not dare to ſtand up in this Manner before a whole Congregation of Politicians, notwithſtanding the long and tedious Harangues and Diſſertations which they daily utter in private Circles, to the breaking of many honeſt Tradeſmen, the ſeducing of ſeveral eminent Citizens, the making of numberleſs Malecontents, and to the great Detriment and Diſquiet of Her Majeſty's Subjects.

I do heartily concur with my ingenious Friends of the above-mentioned Coffee-houſe in theſe their Propoſals; and becauſe I apprehend there may be Reaſons to put an immediate Stop to the Grievance complained of, it is my Intention, That, till ſuch Time as the aforeſaid Pulpits can be erected, every Orator do place himſelf within the Bar, and from thence dictate whatſoever he ſhall think neceſſary for the publick Good.

[352] And further, becauſe I am very deſirous th [...] proper Ways and Means ſhould be found out f [...] the ſuppreſſing of Story-Tellers and fine Talke [...] in all ordinary Converſation whatſoever, I do i [...] ſiſt, That in every private Club, Company, [...] Meeting over a Bottle, there be always an Elbo [...] Chair placed at the Table, and that as ſoon a [...] any one begins a long Story, or extends his Di [...] courſe beyond the Space of one Minute, he [...] forthwith thruſt into the ſaid Elbow Chair, [...] leſs upon any of the Company's calling out t [...] the Chair, he breaks off abruptly, and holds hi [...] Tongue.

There are Two Species of Men, notwithſtanding any Thing that has been here ſaid, whom [...] would exempt from the Diſgrace of the Elbo [...] Chair. The Firſt are thoſe Buffoons that have [...] Talent of mimicking the Speech and Behaviou [...] of other Perſons, and turning all their Patron [...] Friends and Acquaintance, into Ridicule. I loo [...] upon your Pantomime as a Legion in a Man, or at leaſt to be like Virgil's Monſter, with an Hundred Mouths and as many Tongues.

— Linguae centum ſunt, Oraque centum.

And therefore would give him as much Time to talk in, as would be allowed to the whole Body of Perſons he repreſents, were they actually in the Company which they divert by Proxy. Provided however, That the ſaid Pantomime do not, upon any Pretence whatſoever, utter any Thing in his own particular Opinion, Language, or Character.

I would likewiſe in the Second Place grant an Exemption from the Elbow Chair to any Perſon who treats the Company, and by that Means may be ſuppoſed to pay for his Audience. A Gueſt cannot take it ill if he be not allowed to talk in his Turn by a Perſon who puts his Mouth to a better Employment, and ſtops it with good Beef [353] and Mutton. In this Caſe the Gueſt is very agreeably ſilenced, and ſeems to hold his Tongue under that Kind of Bribery which the Ancients called, Bos in Lingua.

If I can once extirpate the Race of ſolid and ſubſtantial Humdrums, I hope by my wholeſome and repeated Advices, quickly to reduce the inſignificant Tittle-tattles and Matter-of-Fact-Men that abound in every Quarter of this great City.

Epictetus, in his little Syſtem of Morality, preſcribes the following Rule with that beautiful Simplicity which ſhines through all his Precepts. Beware that thou never tell thy Dreams in Company; for notwithſtanding thou may'ſt take a Pleaſure in Telling thy Dreams, the Company will take no Pleaſure in Hearing them.

This Rule is conformable to a Maxim which I have laid down in a late Paper, and muſt always inculcate into thoſe of my Readers who find in themſelves an Inclination to be very talkative and impertinent, That they ſhould not ſpeak to pleaſe themſelves, but thoſe that hear them.

It has been often obſerved by witty Eſſay-Writers, That the deepeſt Waters are always the moſt ſilent; That empty Veſſels make the greateſt Sound, and tinckling Cymbals the worſt Muſick. The Marqueſs of Hallifax, in his admirable Advice to a Daughter, tells her, That good Senſe has always ſomething ſullen in it: But as Sullenneſs does not only imply Silence, but an ill-natured Silence, I wiſh his Lordſhip had given a ſofter Name to it. Since I am engaged unawares in Quotations, I muſt not omit the Satyr which Horace has written againſt this impertinent talkative Companion, and which, I think, is fuller of Humour than any other Satyr he has written. This great Author, who had the niceſt Taſt of Converſation, and was himſelf a moſt agreeable Companion, had ſo ſtrong an Antipathy to a great [354] Talker, that he was afraid ſome Time or other [...] would be mortal to him, as he has very humo [...] rouſly deſcribed it in his Converſation with [...] impertinent Fellow who had like to have be [...] the Death of him.

Interpellandi Locus hic erat: Eſt tibi Mater,
Cognati, queis te ſalvo eſt Opus? Haud mihi qui qu [...]
Omnes compoſui. Felices, nunc ego reſto.
Confice, nam (que) inſtat Fatum mihi triſte Sabella,
Quod puero cecinit divinâ mota Anus Urnâ.
Hunc neque dira Venena, nec hoſticus auferet Enſis,
Nec Laterum Dolor, aut Tuſſis, nec tarda Podagr [...]
Garrulus hunc quando conſumet cumque: Loquaces,
Si ſapiat, vitet, ſimul atque adoleverit Aetas.

Thus tranſlated by Mr. Oldham:

' Here I got Room to interrupt: Have you
' A Mother, Sir, or Kindred living now?
' Not one, they all are dead. Troth, ſo I gueſt
' The happier they (ſaid I) who are at Reſt.
' Poor I am only left unmurder'd yet:
' Haſt, I beſeech you, and diſpatch me quite,
' For I am well convinc'd my Time is come;
' When I was young, a Gipſy told my Doom.
' This Lad (ſaid ſhe, and looked upon my Hand)
' Shall not by Sword or Poiſon come to's End,
' Nor by the Fever, Dropſy, Gout, or Stone;
' But he ſhall die by an eternal Tongue:
' Therefore, when he's grown up, if he be wiſe,
' Let him avoid great Talkers, I adviſe.

The TATLER. [No 269.
From Tueſday Dec. 26. to Thurſday Dec. 28. 1710.

[355]
— Hae Nugae ſeria ducunt
In mala. —
Hor.

I Find my Correſpondents are univerſally offended at me for taking Notice ſo ſeldom of their Letters, and fear People have taken the Advantage of my Silence to go on in their Errors; for which Reaſon I ſhall hereafter be more careful to anſwer all lawful Queſtions and juſt Complaints as ſoon as they come to my Hands. The Two following Epiſtles relate to very great Mischiefs in the moſt important Articles of Life, Love, and Friendſhip.

Mr. Bickerſtaff,

'TIS my Misfortune to be enamoured of a Lady that is neither very beautiful, very witty, nor at all well-natured; but has the Vanity to think ſhe excels in all theſe Qualifications, and therefore is cruel, inſolent, and ſcornful. When I ſtudy to pleaſe her, ſhe treats me with the utmoſt Rudeneſs and ill Manners: If I approach her Perſon, ſhe fights, ſhe ſcratches me: If I offer a civil Salute, ſhe bites me; inſomuch, that very lately, before a whole Aſſembly of Ladies and Gentlemen, ſhe rip'd out a conſiderable Part of my Left Cheek. This is no ſooner done, but ſhe begs my Pardon in the moſt handſome and becoming Terms imaginable, gives her ſelf worſe Language than I could [356] find in my Heart to do, lets me embrace her to pacify her while ſhe is railing at her ſelf, proteſts ſhe deſerves the Eſteem of no one living, ſays I am too good to contradict her when ſhe thus accuſes her ſelf. This attones for all, tempts me to renew my Addreſſes, which are ever returned in the ſame obliging Manner. Thus, without ſome ſpeedy Relief, I am in Danger of loſing my whole Face. Notwithſtanding all this, I doat upon her, and am ſatisfied ſhe loves me, becauſe ſhe takes me for a Man of Senſe, which I have generally thought, except in this one Inſtance. Your Reflections upon this ſtrange Amour would be very uſeful in theſe Parts, where we are over-run with wild Beauties and Romps. I earneſtly beg your Aſſiſtance, either to deliver me from the Power of this unaccountable Inchantment, or, by ſome proper Animadverſions, civilize the Behaviour of this agreeable Ruſtick. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant, Ebenezer.
Mr. Bickerſtaff,

I Now take Leave to addreſs you in your Character of Cenſor, and complain to you, That among the various Errors in Converſation which you have corrected, there is one which, tho' it has not eſcap'd a general Reproof, yet ſeems to deſerve a more particular Severity. 'Tis an Humour of jeſting on diſagreeable Subjects, and inſiſting on the Jeſt, the more it creates Uneaſineſs; and this ſome Men think they have a Title to do as Friends. Is the Deſign of Jeſting to provoke? Or does Friendſhip give a Privilege to ſay Things with a Deſign to ſhock? How can that be call'd a Jeſt, which has nothing in it but Bitterneſs? 'Tis generally allow'd neceſſary, [357] for the Peace of Company, that Men ſhould a little ſtudy the Tempers of each others; but certainly that muſt be in order to ſhun what's offenſive, not to make it a conſtant Entertainment. The frequent Repetition of what appears harſh, will unavoidably leave a Rancour that's fatal to Friendſhip; and I doubt much, whether it would be an Argument of a Man's good Humour, if he ſhould be rouzed by perpetual Teazing, to treat thoſe that do it as his Enemies. In a Word, whereas 'tis a common Practice to let a Story die, meerly becauſe it does not touch, I think ſuch as mention one they find does, are as troubleſome to Society, and as unfit for it, as Wags, Men of Fire, good Talkers, or any other Apes in Converſation; and therefore, for the publick Benefit, I hope you'll cauſe them to be branded with ſuch a Name as they deſerve. I am,

SIR,
Yours, Patient Friendly.

The Caſe of Ebenozer is a very common one, and is always cured by Neglect. Theſe fantaſtical Returns of Affection proceed from a certain Vanity in the other Sex, ſupported by a perverted Taſt in ours. I muſt publiſh it as a Rule, That no Faults which proceed from the Will, either in a Miſtreſs or a Friend, are to be tolerated: But we ſhould be ſo complaiſant to Ladies, to let them diſpleaſe when they aim at doing it. Pluck up a Spirit, Ebenezer, recover the Uſe of your Judgment, and her Faults will appear, or her Beauties vaniſh. Her Faults begin to pleaſe me as well as my own, is a Sentence very prettily put into the Mouth of a Lover by the Comick Poet; but he never deſigned it for a Maxim of Life, but the Picture of an Imperfection. If Ebenezer takes my [358] Advice, the ſame Temper which made her inſolent to his Love, will make her ſubmiſſive to hi [...] Indifference.

I cannot wholly aſcribe the Faults mentioned i [...] the Second Letter to the ſame Vanity or Prid [...] in Companions who ſecretly triumph over thei [...] Friends, in being ſharp upon them in Thing [...] where they are moſt tender. But when this for [...] of Behaviour does not proceed from that Source [...] it does from Barrenneſs of Invention, and an Inability to ſupport a Converſation in a Way leſs offenſive. It is the ſame Poverty which makes Men ſpeak or write ſmuttily, that forces them to talk vexingly. As obſcene Language is an Addreſs to the Lewd for Applauſe, ſo are ſharp Alluſions an Appeal to the Ill-natured. But mean and illiterate is that Converſation where one Man exerciſes his Wit to make another exerciſe his Patience.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Whereas Plagius has been told again and again, Both in publick and private, That he preaches excellently well, and ſtill goes on to preach as well as ever, and all this to a polite and learned Audience; This is to deſire, That he would not hereafter be ſo eloquent, except to a Country Congregation, the Proprietors of Tillotſon's Works having conſulted the Learned in the Law, whether preaching a Sermon they have purchaſed, is not to be conſtrued publiſhing their Copy.

Mr. Dogood is deſired to conſider, that his Story is ſevere upon a Weakneſs, and not a Folly.

The TATLER. [No 270.
From Thurſday Dec. 28. to Saturday Dec. 30. 1710.

[359]
Cum pulchris Tunicis ſumet nova Conſilia & Spes.
Hor.

ACcording to my late Reſolution, I take the Holydays to be no improper Seaſon to entertain the Town with the Addreſſes of my Correſpondents. In my Walks every Day there appear all round me very great Offenders in the Point of Dreſs. An armed Taylor had the Impudence Yeſterday in the Park to ſmile in my Face, and pull off a Laced Hat to me, as it were in Contempt of my Authority and Cenſure. However, it is a very great Satisfaction, that other People as well as my ſelf are offended with theſe Improprieties. The following Notices from Perſons of different Sexes and Qualities are a ſufficient Inſtance how uſeful my Lucubrations are to the Publick.

Couſin Bickerſtaff,

IT has been the peculiar Bleſſing of our Family to be always above the Smiles or Frowns of Fortune, and by a certain Greatneſs of Mind to reſtrain all irregular Fondneſſes or Paſſions. From hence it is, that though a long Decay, and a numerous Deſcent, have obliged many of our Houſe to fall into the Arts of Trade and Buſineſs, no one Perſon of us has ever made an Appearance that betrayed our being unſatisfied with our own Station of Life, [360] or has ever affected a Mien or Geſture unſuitable to it.

You have up and down in your Writings very juſtly remarked, That it is not this or the other Profeſſion or Quality among Men that gives us Honour and Eſteem, but the well or ill behaving our ſelves in thoſe Characters. It is therefore with no ſmall Concern, that I behold in Coffee-houſes and publick Places my Brethren, the Tradeſmen of this City, put off the ſmooth, even and ancient Decorum of thriving Citizens, for a fantaſtical Dreſs and Figure, improper for their Perſons and Characters, to the utter Deſtruction of that Order and Diſtinction which of Right ought to be between St. James's and Milkſtreet, the Camp and Cheapſide.

I have given my ſelf ſome Time to find out, how diſtinguiſhing the Frays in a Lot of Muſlins, or drawing up a Regiment of Thread Laces, or making a Panegyrick on Pieces of Sagathy or Scotch-Plod, ſhould entitle a Man to a Laced Hat or Sword, a Wig tied up with Ribands, or an embroidered Coat. The College ſay, this Enormity proceeds from a Sort of Delirium in the Brain, which makes it break out firſt about the Head, and, for Want of timely Remedies, fall upon the Left Thigh, and from thence in little Mazes and Windings run over the whole Body, as appears by pretty Ornaments on the Buttons, Button-holes, Garterings, Sides of the Breeches, and the like. I beg the Favour of you to give us a Diſcourſe wholly upon the Subject of Habits, which will contribute to the better Government of Converſation amongſt us, and in particular oblige,

SIR,
Your affectionate Couſin, Felix Tranquillus.
[361]

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq Cenſor of Great Britain.
The humble Petition of Ralph Nab, Haberdaſher of Hats, and many other poor Sufferers of the ſame Trade,

SHEWETH,

THat for ſome Years laſt paſt the Uſe of Gold and Silver Galloon upon Hats has been almoſt univerſal, being undiſtinguiſhably worn by Soldiers, 'Squires, Lords, Footmen, Beaus, Sportſmen, Traders, Clerks, Prigs, Smarts, Cullies, Pretty Fellows, and Sharpers.

That the ſaid Uſe and Cuſtom has been Two Ways very prejudicial to your Petitioners: Firſt, in that it has induced Men, to the great Damage of your Petitioners, to wear their Hats upon their Heads, by which Means the ſaid Hats laſt much longer whole than they would do if worn under their Arms. Secondly, in that very often a new Dreſſing and a new Lace ſupply the Place of a new Hat, which Grievance we are chiefly ſenſible of in the Spring-time, when the Company is leaving the Town; it ſo happening commonly, that a Hat ſhall frequent all Winter the fineſt and beſt Aſſemblies without any Ornaments at all, and in May ſhall be tricked up with Gold or Silver to keep Company with Ruſticks, and ride in the Rain.

All which Premiſſes your Petitioners humbly pray you to take into your Conſideration, and either to appoint a Day in your Court of Honour, when all Pretenders to the Galloon may enter their Claims, and have them approved or rejected, or to give us ſuch other Relief as to your great Wiſdom ſhall ſeem meet.

And your Petitioners, &c.

Order my Friend near Temple-Bar, the Author of the Hunting-Cock, to aſſiſt the Court when this Petition is read, of which Mr. Lillie to give him Notice.

[362]

To Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq Cenſor of Great Britain.
The humble Petition of Elizabeth Slender, Spinſter [...]

SHEWETH,

THat on the 20th of this Inſtant Decembe [...] her Friend Rebecca Hive and your Petitioner walking in the Strand, ſaw a Gentleman before us in a Gown, whoſe Periwig was ſo long and ſo much powder'd, that your Petitioner took Notice of it, and ſaid, She wonder'd that Lawyer would ſo ſpoil a new Gown with Powder. To which it was anſwered, That he was no Lawyer but a Clergyman. Upon a Wager of a Pot of Coffee we overtook him and your Petitioner was ſoon convinced ſhe had loſt.

Your Petitioner therefore deſires your Worſhip to cite the Clergyman before you, and to ſettle and adjuſt the Length of Canonical Periwigs, and the Quantity of Powder to be made uſe of in them, and to give ſuch other Directions as you ſhall think fit.

And your Petitioner, &c.

Q. Whether this Gentleman be not Chaplain to a Regiment, and in ſuch Caſe allow Powder accordingly?

After all that can be thought on theſe Subjects, I muſt confeſs, That the Men who dreſs with a certain Ambition to appear more than they are, are much more excuſable than thoſe who betray, in the ado [...]ing their Perſons, a ſecret Vanity and Inclination to ſhine in Things, wherein if they did ſucceed, it would rather leſſen than advance their Character. For this Reaſon I am more provoked at the Allegations relating to the Clergyman, than any other hinted at in theſe Complaints. I have indeed a long Time with much Concern obſerved abundance of Pretty Fellows in Sacred [363] Orders, and ſhall in due Time let them know, that I pretend to give Eccleſiaſtical as well as Civil Cenſures. A Man well bred and well dreſſed in that Habit, adds to the Sacredneſs of his Function and Agreeableneſs not to be met with among the Laity. I own I have ſpent ſome Evenings among the Men of Wit of that Profeſſion with an inexpreſſible Delight. Their habitual Care of their Character gives ſuch a Chaſtiſement to their Fancy, that all which they utter in Company is as much above what you meet with in other Converſations, as the Charms of a modeſt are ſuperior to thoſe of a light Woman. I therefore earneſtly deſire our young Miſſionaries from the Univerſities to conſider where they are, and not dreſs, and look, and move like young Officers. It is no Diſadvantage to have a very handſome white Hand; but were I to preach Repentance to a Gallery of Ladies, I would, methinks, keep my Gloves on. I have an unfeigned Affection to the Claſs of Mankind appointed to ſerve at the Altar, therefore am in Danger of running out of my Way, and growing too ſerious on this Occaſion; for which Reaſon I ſhall end with the following Epiſtle, which, by my Intereſt in Tom. Trot the Penny-Poſt, I procured a Copy of.

To the Rev. Mr. Ralph Incenſe, Chaplain to the Counteſs Dowager of Brumpton.

SIR,

I Heard and ſaw you preach laſt Sunday. I am an ignorant young Woman, and underſtood not half you ſaid: But ah! Your Manner, when you held up both your Hands toward our Pew! Did you deſign to win me to Heaven or your ſelf?

Your humble Servant, Penitence Gentle.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

[364]

Mr. Proctorſtaff of Clare-Hall in Cambridge, [...] received as a Kinſman, according to his Requeſ [...] bearing Date the 20th Inſtant.

The Diſtreſſed Son of Aeſculapius is deſired to be more particular.

The TATLER. [No 271.
From Saturday Dec. 30. to Tueſday Jan. 2. 1710.

THE Printer having informed me, That there are as many of theſe Papers printed as will make Four Volumes, I am now come to the End of my Ambition in this Matter, and have nothing further to ſay to the World, under the Character of Iſaac Bickerſtaff. This Work has indeed for ſome Time been diſagreeable to me, and the Purpoſe of it wholly loſt by my being ſo long underſtood as the Author. I never deſigned in it to give any Man any ſecret Wound by my Concealment, but ſpoke in the Character of an old Man, a Philoſopher, an Humoriſt, an Aſtrologer, and a Cenſor, to allure my Reader with the Variety of my Subjects, and inſinuate, if I could, the Weight of Reaſon with the Agreeableneſs of Wit. The general Purpoſe of the whole has been to recommend Truth, Innocence, Honour, and Virtue, as the chief Ornaments of Life; but I conſidered, that Severity of Manners was abſolutely neceſſary to him who would cenſure others, and for that Reaſon, and that only, choſe to talk in a Mask. I ſhall not carry my Humility ſo far as to call my ſelf a vicious Man; but at the ſame Time muſt confeſs, my Life is at beſt but pardonable. And with no greater Character [365] than this, a Man would make but an indifferent Progreſs in attacking prevailing and faſhionable Vices, which Mr. Bickerſtaff has done with a Freedom of Spirit that would have loſt both its Beauty and Efficacy, had it been pretended to by Mr. Steele.

As to the Work it ſelf, the Acceptance it has met with is the beſt Proof of its Value; but I ſhould err againſt that Candour which an honeſt Man ſhould always carry about him, if I did not own, that the moſt approved Pieces in it were written by others, and thoſe which have been moſt excepted againſt by my ſelf. The Hand that has aſſiſted me in thoſe noble Diſcourſes upon the Immortality of the Soul, the glorious Proſpects of another Life, and the moſt ſublime Idea's of Religion and Virtue, is a Perſon who is too fondly my Friend ever to own them; but I ſhould little deſerve to be his, if I uſurped the Glory of them. I muſt acknowledge at the ſame Time, that I think the fineſt Strokes of Wit and Humour in all Mr. Bickerſtaff's Lucubrations are thoſe for which he is alſo beholden to him.

As for the Satyrical Parts of theſe Writings, thoſe againſt the Gentlemen who profeſs Gaming are the moſt licentious; but the main of them I take to come from loſing Gameſters, as Invectives againſt the Fortunate; for in very many of them, I was very little elſe but the Tranſcriber. If any have been more particularly marked at, ſuch Perſons may impute it to their own Behaviour, (before they were touched upon) in publickly ſpeaking their Reſentment againſt the Author, and profeſſing they would ſupport any Man who ſhould inſult him. When I mention this Subject, I hope Major-General Davenport, Brigadier Biſſet, and my Lord Forbes, will accept of my Thanks for their frequent good Offices, in profeſſing their Readineſs to partake any Danger [366] that ſhould befal me in ſo juſt an Undertaking as the Endeavour to baniſh Fraud and Couzenage from the Preſence and Converſation of Gentlemen.

But what I find is the leaſt excuſable Part of all this Work is, That I have, in ſome Places in it, touched upon Matters which concern both the Church and State. All I ſhall ſay for this is, That the Points I alluded to are ſuch as concerned every Chriſtian and Freeholder in England; and I could not be cold enough to conceal my Opinion on Subjects which related to either of thoſe Characters. But Politicks apart. I muſt confeſs, it has been a moſt exquiſite Pleaſure to me to frame Characters of Domeſtick Life, and put thoſe Parts of it which are leaſt obſerved into an agreeable View; to enquire into the Seeds of Vanity and Affectation, to lay before my Readers the Emptineſs of Ambition: In a Word, to trace Humane Life through all its Mazes and Receſſes, and ſhow much ſhorter Methods than Men ordinarily practiſe, to be happy, agreeable, and great.

But to enquire into Men's Faults and Weakneſſes has ſomething in it ſo unwelcome, that I have often ſeen People in Pain to act before me, whoſe Modeſty only make them think themſelves liable to Cenſure. This, and a Thouſand other nameleſs Things, have made it an irkſome Task to me to perſonate Mr. Bickerſtaff any longer; and I believe it does not often happen, that the Reader is delighted where the Author is diſpleaſed.

All I can now do for the further Gratification of the Town, is to give them a faithful Index and Explication of Paſſages and Alluſions, and ſometimes of Perſons intended in the ſeveral ſcattered Parts of the Work. At the ſame Time, the ſucceeding Volumes ſhall diſcover which of the whole have been written by me, and which [367] by others, and by whom, as far as I am able, or permitted.

Thus I have voluntarily done what I think all Authors ſhould do when call'd upon. I have publiſhed my Name to my Writings, and given my ſelf up to the Mercy of the Town (as Shakeſpear expreſſes it) with all my Imperfections on my Head. The indulgent Readers

Moſt Obliged, Moſt Obedient, Humble Servant, Richard Steele.
The End of the Fourth Volume.

Appendix A AN INDEX TO THE TATLERS.
VOL. IV.

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A.
B.
C.
D.
E.
F.
G.
H.
I.
L.
M.
N.
O.
P.
Q.
R.
S.
T.
V.
W.
Y.
FINIS.
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