ESSAYS OF JOSEPH ADDISON
 
 i9-
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 OF 
 
 JOSEPH ADDISON 
 
 w 
 
 CHOSEN AND EMTED 
 
 JOHN RICHARD GREEN, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 Honaiary Fellow of Jam College, Oxjord 
 
 ?1 n D n 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd. 
 
 NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO. 
 1898 
 
 &^
 
 First Edition liZo. Reprinted 1882, 1885, 1890, 1S52, i8;3: 189;, iSyS
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Wk commonly regard the Age of the Revolution 
 as an age of mihtary exploits and political changes, 
 an age whose warlike glories loom dimly through 
 the smoke of Blenheim or of Ramillies, and the 
 greatness of whose political issues still impresses 
 us, though we track them with difficulty through a 
 chaos of treasons and cabals. But to the men 
 who lived in it the age was far more than this. 
 To them the Revolution was more than a merely 
 political revolution ; it was the recognition not only of 
 a change in the relations of the nation to its rulers, 
 but of changes almost as great in English society and 
 in English intelligence. If it was the age of the Bill 
 of Rights, it was the age also of the Spectator, If 
 Marlborough and Somers had their share in shaping 
 the new England that came of 1688, so also had 
 Addison and Steele. And to the bulk of people it 
 may be doubted whether the change that passed over 
 literature was not more startling and more interest- 
 ing than the change that passed over politics. Few 
 changes, indeed, have ever been so radical and com- 
 plete. Literature suddenly doffed its stately garb of 
 folio or octavo, and stepped abroad in the light and 
 easy dress of pamphlet and essay. Its long arguments 
 b
 
 Vi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and cumbrous sentences condensed themselves into 
 the quick reasoning and terse easy phrases of ordinary 
 conversation. Its tone lost the pedantry of the scholar, 
 the brutality of the controversialist, and aimed at being 
 unpretentious, polite, urbane. The writer aimed at 
 teaching, but at teaching in pleasant and familiar ways ; 
 he strove to make evil unreasonable and ridiculous ; to 
 shame men by wit and irony out of grossness and bad 
 manners ; to draw the world to piety and virtue by 
 teaching piety and virtue themselves to smile. And 
 the change of subject was as remarkable as the change 
 of form. Letters found a new interest in the scenes 
 and characters of the common life around them, in 
 the chat of the coffee-house, the loungers of the 
 Mall, the humours of the street, the pathos of the 
 fireside. Every one has felt the change that passed 
 in this way over our literature ; but we commonly 
 talk as if the change had been a change in the 
 writers of the time, as if the intelligence which pro- 
 duces books had suddenly taken of itself a new 
 form, as if men like Addison had conceived the Essay 
 and their readers had adapted themselves to this new 
 mode of writing. The truth lies precisely the other 
 way. In no department of human life does the law 
 of supply and demand operate so powerfully as in 
 literature. Writers and readers are not two different 
 classes of men : both are products of the same social 
 and mental conditions : and the thoughts of the one 
 will be commonly of the same order and kind as the 
 thoughts of the otlier. Even in the form which a
 
 INTRODUCTION. Vll 
 
 writer gives to his thouglit, there will be the same 
 compelling pressure from the world about him ; he 
 will unconsciously comply with what he feels to be the 
 needs of his readers ; he will write so as best to be 
 read. And thus it is that if we seek a key to this 
 great literary change of the Age of the Revolution, 
 we must look for it not in the writers of the Revo- 
 lution so much as in the public for whom they wrote. 
 I restrict myself here, however, to a single feature 
 of this change. 'As a bashful and not forward boy,' 
 says the novelist Richardson, ' I was an early favourite 
 with all the young women of taste and reading in the 
 neighbourhood. Half-a-dozen of them, when met to 
 work with their needles, used, when they got a book 
 they liked and thought I should, to borrow me to 
 read to them, the mothers sometimes with them, and 
 both mothers and daughters used to be pleased with 
 the observations they put me on making.' The close 
 of this bit of boyish autobiography is amusingly cha- 
 racteristic ; and there are still, I trust, readers of 
 Richardson to whom this little group of English- 
 women, ' met to work with their needles,' may have 
 its interest, as the first of a series of such groups 
 which gathered round the honest printer throughout 
 his life, and out of which, half-a-century later, the 
 one great imaginative achievement of the age of the 
 Georges, the story of Clarissa, was to spring. But 
 it is not for Richardson's sake, or for Clarissa's, that 
 I quote it here. I quote it because it is one of the 
 earliest instances that I can recall of the social rcvolu- 
 b2
 
 Vin INTRODUCTION. 
 
 tion of which I spoke, in its influence on letters. Till 
 now English letters had almost exclusively addressed 
 themselves to men. As books had been written by 
 men, so — it was assumed— they would be read by 
 men ; and not only was this true of the philosophical 
 and theological works of the time, but even its more 
 popular literature, the novelettes — for instance — of 
 Greene and his fellow-Elizabethans, bear on the face 
 of them that they were written to amuse not women 
 but men. The most popular branch of letters, in fact, 
 the drama, so exclusively addressed itself to male ears 
 that up to the Restoration no woman filled even a 
 woman's part on the boards, nor could a decent 
 woman appear in a theatre without a mask. Even 
 the great uprooting of every political, social, and 
 religious belief in the Civil Wars left this conception 
 of literature almost untouched. The social position of 
 woman indeed profited little by the Great Rebellion. 
 If she appeared as a preacher among the earlier 
 Quakers, no feature of the Quaker movement gave 
 greater scandal among Englishmen at large ; and 
 Milton's cry for Divorce was founded not on any 
 notion of woman's equality, but on the most arrogant 
 assertion ever made of her inferiority to man. It is 
 a remarkable fact that amidst the countless schemes 
 of political reform which the age produced, schemes 
 of every possible order of novelty and extravagance, 
 I do not remember a single one which proposed 
 that even the least share of political power should 
 be given to women. And yet it is from the time
 
 INTRODUCTIO:*:. fX 
 
 of the Great Rebellion that the change in woman's 
 position really dates. The new dignity given to her 
 by the self-restraint which Puritanism imposed on 
 human life, by the spiritual rank which she shared 
 equally with husband or son as one of ' the elect 
 of God,' by the deepening and concentration of the 
 affections within the circle of the home, which was 
 one of the results of its withdrawal of the ' godly ' 
 from the general converse and amusements of the 
 outer world, told quickly on the social position of 
 woman. And it told as quickly on her relations to 
 literature. It is now that, shyly and sporadically, 
 and sometimes under odd forms, we hear of women 
 as writers ; of the Duchess of Newcastle, of Aphra 
 Behn, of Mrs. Hutchinson. And it is now for the 
 first time that we hear of women, not exceptional 
 women such as Lady Jane Grey, but common English 
 mothers and English maidens, as furnishing a new 
 world of readers. In groups such as Richardson 
 sketches for us literature finds a new world opening 
 before it, a world not of men only but of women, 
 of wives and daughters as well as husbands and 
 sons, a world not of the street or the study but of 
 the home. 
 
 It is in this new relation of writers to the world 
 of women that we find the key to the Essayists. It 
 was because these little circles of mothers and girls 
 were quickened by a new curiosity, by a new interest 
 in the world about them, because readers of this new 
 sort were eager to read, that we find ourselves in
 
 X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 presence of a new literature, of a literature more really 
 popular than England had ever seen, a literature not 
 only of the street, the pulpit, the tavern, and the 
 stage, but which had penetrated within the very pre- 
 cincts of the home. Steele has the merit of having 
 been the first to feel the new intellectual cravings of 
 his day and to furnish what proved to be the means 
 of meeting them. His 'Tatler' was a periodical of 
 pamphlet form, in which news was to be varied by 
 short essays of criticism and gossip. But his grasp 
 of the new literature was a feeble grasp. His sense of 
 the fitting form for it, of its fitting tone, of the range 
 and choice of its subjects, were alike inadequate. 
 He seized indeed by a happy instinct on letter-writing 
 and conversation as the two moulds to which the 
 Essay must adapt itself; he seized with the same 
 happy instinct on humour as the pervading temper 
 of his work and on 'manners' as its destined sphere. 
 Rut his notion of 'manners' was limited not only to 
 the external aspects of life and society, but to those 
 aspects as they present themselves in towns ; while 
 his humour remained pert and superficial. The 
 ' Tatler,' however, had hardly been started when it 
 was taken in hand by a greater than Steele. * It 
 was raised,' as he frankly confessed, ' to a greater 
 thing than I intended,' by the co-operation of Joseph 
 Addison. As men smiled over the humours of Tom 
 Folio and the Political Upholsterer, over the proceed- 
 ings of the Court of Honour or the Adventures of 
 a Shilling, they recognized the promise of a deeper
 
 INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 and subtler vein of social observation and portraiture 
 than any English prose writer had ever shewn before. 
 And the promise was soon fulfilled. The life of the 
 ' Tatler' lasted through the years 1709 and 1710 ; the 
 two next years saw it surpassed by the Essays of the 
 'Spectator,' and this was followed in 1713 by the 
 'Guardian,' in 1714 by a fresh series of 'Spectators,' 
 in 17 1 5 by the 'Freeholder.' In all these successive 
 periodicals what was really vital and important was 
 the work of Addison. Addison grasped the idea of 
 popularizing knowledge as, frankly as Steele. He 
 addressed as directly the new world of the homey* It 
 was said of Socrates,' he tells us, ' that he brought 
 philosophy down from heaven to inhabit among men ; 
 and I shall be ambitious to have it said of me that 
 I have brought philosophy out of closets and libraries, 
 schools and colleges, to dwell in clubs and assemblies, 
 at tea-tables and in coffee-houses. I would therefore,' 
 he ends with a smile, ' recommend these my specula- 
 tions to all well-regulated assemblies that set apart 
 one hour in every morning for tea and bread and 
 butter, and would heartily advise them for their good 
 to order this paper to be punctually served up, and to 
 be looked upon as part of the tea-equipageTl But 
 in Addison's hands this popular writing became a 
 part of literature. While it preserved the free move- 
 ment of the letter-writer, the gaiety and briskness 
 of chat, it obeyed the laws of literary art, and was 
 shaped and guided by a sense of literary beauty. Its 
 humour too became a subtler and more exquisite
 
 XU INTRODUCTION. 
 
 thing. Instead of the mere wit of the coffee-house, 
 men found themselves smihng with a humourist who 
 came nearer than any man before or since to the 
 humour of Shakspere. 
 
 It was thus that Addison became the typical repre- 
 sentative of the revolution which passed in his day 
 over English literature. His life and temper indeed 
 equally fitted him to represent it. The training of 
 his very boyhood had linked the sense of literature 
 with the pieties of a home. Addison was the son 
 of a country parson, who in later years came to be 
 an archdeacon and a dean, but whose earlier career 
 had been a chequered and eventful one, who had 
 wandered as a minister of the fallen Church of Eng- 
 land from country-house to country-house at the close 
 of the Rebellion, had been chaplain to the garrison 
 of Dunkirk and chaplain to the garrison of Tangier, 
 and had only returned after years of this banishment 
 among Flammands and ]\Ioors to a quiet parsonage 
 in England. Throughout his life something of this 
 old home-atmosphere of the parsonage lingers about 
 Addison ; though he refuses to take orders and en- 
 lists among the wits, he never loses hold of the 
 pieties of his early training ; his instinctive love and 
 reverence is for things that are pure and honest and 
 of good report ; he preaches all the more simply and 
 naturally for the not being ' strangled in his bands.* 
 His freedom from the bigotry and narrowness of view 
 which so commonly go with the virtues of such a 
 home may have been partly due to the wider e.xperi-
 
 INTRODUCTION. XUI 
 
 ence of men and religions which his father had gained 
 from a career among Papists and Mussuhnans ; as 
 his hterary tendencies must have dated from the 
 boyish years in which he saw Dr. Lancelot intent on 
 his works about the religion of Barbary or the learn- 
 ing of the Hebrews. A love of letters and of religion 
 such as he carried with him from his father's par- 
 sonage to Oxford might easily — as Oxford was then 
 — have begotten but a pedant and a bigot. But ten 
 years of Oxford life left Addison free whether from 
 pedantry or from bigotry. At the moment, indeed, 
 when he became a student at the University, the very 
 loyalty to the Church which he had brought with him 
 swayed him to a love of political and religious liberty 
 with which the Church had commonly little sympathy. 
 He entered at Queen's when Oxford was for once in 
 opposition to the Crown, when the Church was in 
 fact waging a war for existence with the tyranny of 
 James the Second ; and his years as a demy of Mag- 
 dalen were years during which Magdalen was still 
 proud of the stand she had made against the worst 
 of the Stuart kings. He became, as one who had 
 seen such a struggle could hardly help becoming, a 
 devoted adherent of the Revolution ; and he re- 
 mained an adherent of it to the last. But firm as 
 vi'as his Whiggism, it had nothing in common with 
 the faction and violence which disgraced the political 
 temper of the time. While men were wrangling and 
 intriguing and denouncing and betraying one another 
 through the ten years that followed 1688, Addison
 
 XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 was Steeping himself in the Latin poets and tagging 
 Latin verses under the elms of Magdalen ; and on 
 the eve of the last great struggle with France, from 
 the summer of 1699 to the close of 1703, he was 
 traversing Europe in the leisurely fashion of the day, 
 a fashion that suffered men to come into real contact 
 with the society of the land which they traversed, 
 sauntering through France and through Italy, or wan- 
 dering with a pupil over Switzerland, Germany, and 
 the Low Countries. The * practical ' man may well 
 be impatient of so desultory and unpractical a prelude 
 to life as this ; but to Addison at least it seemed 
 no small gain that in an age of tumult and faction 
 his converse should have been with literature, with 
 the ' humanities ' as men called them then, in their 
 highest and serenest form, and that this converse 
 with books should have been quickened and enlarged 
 by a liberal contact with men. 
 
 When he returned at last to England it was to take 
 his place at once among the wits ; and after a few 
 months of quiet poverty to enjoy a strange success. 
 A poem on Blenheim lifted him into fame : in a 
 couple of years he was Under-Secretary of State : 
 by 1708 he had a seat in Parliament, was rich enough 
 to lend Steele a thousand pounds, and became Chief 
 Secretary for Ireland. His career of dignity and good 
 fortune went on with hardly a check till, eleven years 
 later, his body was laid in that sacred resting-place 
 of poets and heroes, where he had so often mused 
 amidst the memories of the past on ' that great day
 
 INTRODUCTION'. XV 
 
 when we shall all be contemporaries together.' But 
 it was not as statesman or man of fortune that 
 England honoured him with that grave in Westminster 
 Abbey. True as he was to his party he was yet truer 
 to letters ; and the years that saw him rise so sud- 
 denly into a Minister of State saw him as suddenly 
 take his rank as the greatest of the Essayists. 
 
 I do not propose here to dwell on the character- 
 istics of Addison's genius, or the peculiar turn of 
 his humour or of his style. I would rather say briefly 
 why in this little book I have attempted to select 
 from his Works what seemed to me the most fitted 
 to give readers of to-day a sense of the grace and 
 ease of the one, and of the indefinable sunshiny 
 charm of the other. If selection is proper in the 
 work of any great writer, it is proper in the work of 
 Addison. Merely to gather what is his work together, 
 indeed, an editor has to do a work of selection. As 
 it has come down to us in 'Tatlers' and * Spectators' 
 and the like, it is mixed up with a huge mass of 
 inferior matter from the pens of other men. Time 
 has shown how high Addison rises above his fellow 
 essayists ; but when he actually wrote he wrote as 
 one of a group of journalists, and the bulk of these 
 journalists were very poor writers indeed. Steele, 
 indeed, has a real vein of gaiety and pathos — if not 
 a very rich one — but who can read now-d.-days the 
 work of the Tickells or the Budgells ! To reprint 
 the ' Tatler,' or the ' Guardian,' or the * Spectator,' 
 that we may enjoy the essays of Addison seems to
 
 XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 me much as if we were to reprint the ' London 
 Magazine' in order to enjoy the essays of EHa, or 
 the ' Morning Post ' in order to enjoy the essays of 
 Coleridge. It is only by selection then that we can 
 read Addison at all. But even a selection from this 
 mass of rubbish which gives us Addison alone hardly 
 does justice to Addison. The needs of periodical lite- 
 rature are in some ways, no doubt, helps to a really 
 great writer: the demand for 'copy,' the printer's devil 
 waiting in the hall, often give the needful stimulus 
 for production. But such necessities are hindrances 
 as well as helps ; and if the printer's devil wrings 
 good work out of a well stored brain, we cannot 
 always reckon on his wringing the best work. Even 
 with the greatest writers periodical work must have 
 its inequalities ; and Addison's work is sometimes 
 unequal. When he is humourous he is always at his 
 best : I do not know a single instance where his 
 humour loses its distinguishing delicacy and refine- 
 ment. But in his more serious papers we can de- 
 tect now and then the pressure of the printer. His 
 morality is sometimes dull, his criticism sometimes 
 commonplace, his wit — here and there — is a little 
 verbal and thin. 
 
 Most of my readers will probably grant that in 
 passing by papers of this sort I am only taking out 
 of their path what are hindrances in any real appre- 
 ciation of Addison. But these are far from being 
 the most serious obstacles to an appreciation of his 
 work by readers of to-day. A greater difficulty arises
 
 INTRODUCTION. XVII 
 
 from the very width of his range. Addison aimed 
 at popularizing a far wider world of thoughts and 
 things than Steele would have ventured on. He takes 
 the whole range of human thought and human action 
 for the Essayist's province. He chats with the little 
 group around the tea-table over the last new play 
 or the last new head-dress ; but he chats with them 
 too over poetry and literature and politics and morals 
 and religion. In his hand the Essay is not the mere 
 man of wit and fashion who mingles with the crowd 
 to amuse it with sprightly talk and with passing 
 allusions to deeper things ; it is the critic who quits 
 his desk, and the statesman his office, and the philo- 
 sopher his study, and the preacher his pulpit, to chat 
 as freely as the wit himself with the men and women 
 about them. Such a range of subjects gave a variety 
 which is still one of the charms of the ' Spectator'; 
 and to any enquirer into the thought of the time it is 
 perhaps the most valuable feature of Addison's work. 
 But viewed, as we are viewing them here, from a 
 purely literary stand-point, it must be owned that a 
 large number of these Essays have lost all freshness 
 and interest now. Addison's political speculations, for 
 instance, cannot fail to seem shallow to readers who 
 are children of a revolution far wider and deeper than 
 the Revolution of 1688. To him, as to the wisest 
 political thinkers of his day, to Locke or to Somers, 
 that ' glorious revolution ' marked a final settlement 
 and ordering of the national life, and the establishment 
 of relations between the people and its rulers which
 
 xvill INTRODUCTION. 
 
 were as nearly perfect as any human relations could 
 be. The struggle of centuries was over ; liberty — 
 political, social, intellectual alike, was secured ; and 
 what remained for the political philosopher to do was 
 simply to expound the constitution of things which 
 had thus come into being, to bring home its perfec- 
 tions to the devotees of a vanished past, and to make 
 wiser folk understand the true workings and balance 
 of this wonderful order. The change was really so 
 great, the improvement that had been wrought so 
 vast and important, that we can understand this atti- 
 tude of rest, of acquiescence, of simple contemplative 
 enjoyment. But we can do no more than understand 
 it. A modern reader turns from Addison's patient 
 and methodical expositions of the Constitution of 1688 
 with a mingled sense of boredom and amusement, as 
 a railway traveller turns from an exposition of the 
 merits and arrangement of a stage-coach. And, 
 again, if we pass from his political to his literary 
 speculations, the amusement vanishes, while I fear 
 the boredom remains. As landmarks in the intellec- 
 tual history of Englishmen such papers as those on 
 Paradise Lost and Gfeev^^Chase will always have 
 their value. In reading them we cannot but feel how 
 far Addison was in advance of the critical feeling of 
 his age, by what a surprising effort he rose above its 
 canons of judgment, with what a freshness of mind 
 he felt forward towards a world of poetic feeling 
 which he never was fated absolutely to touch. But 
 here again the interest of such papers is historical
 
 INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 rather than Hterary. As an actual criticism of litera- 
 ture this work has become dead to us ; no one of 
 our day, I suppose, ever got help towards a right 
 judgment of Chevy Chase or Paradise Lost from 
 Addison's essays on them. 
 
 In this little book therefore I have given no selec- 
 tions from Addison's political or critical essays, even 
 though this rule forced me to omit such an exquisite 
 bit of writing as his character of Lord Somers. My 
 aim has been to give what was still living in his work, 
 and, whatever their interest may be to readers of 
 tastes like my own, I feel that to the bulk of readers 
 his politics and his criticisms are dead. And for the 
 same reason, but at still greater risk of censure, I 
 have given none of his moral or theological essays. 
 It is not that I share the common scorn of the 
 morality or theology of the last century, nor that I 
 am blind to the peculiar interest of Addison's position, 
 or of the work which he did. As the first of our lay- 
 preachers, Addison marks the expansion of a thirst 
 for moral and religious improvement beyond the 
 circle of the clergy. He is thus the ancestor of 
 Howard and Wilberforce, as he is the ancestor of 
 Mr. Matthew Arnold. For a whole century the 
 Spectator had greater weight on moral and religious 
 opinions than all the charges of the bishops. And 
 on the moral side, at least, it deserved to have such 
 a weight. Addison was not only a moralist : he had 
 what so few have had in the world's history, an 
 enthusiasm for conduct. ' The great aim of these my
 
 XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 speculations,' he says emphatically, ' is to banish vice 
 and ignorance out of the territories of Great Britain.' 
 It was this enthusiasm for morality which enabled 
 him to discern, to sympathize with, to give shape 
 to, the moral energy of his day. We hear sometimes 
 that the last century is 'repulsive': but what is it 
 that repells us in it .'' Is it the age itself, or the picture 
 of itself which the age so fearlessly presents ? There 
 is no historic ground for thinking the eighteenth 
 century a coarser or a more brutal age than the 
 centuries that had gone before ; rather there is ground 
 for thinking it a less coarse and a less brutal age. 
 The features which repel us in it are no features 
 of its own production. There were brutalized colliers 
 at Ringwood before Wesley ; there were brutal squires 
 before Western ; there were brutal mobs before the 
 Gordon riots. Vile as our prisons were when Howard 
 visited them, they were yet viler in the days of 
 Elizabeth. Parliamentary corruption was a child of 
 the Restoration ; the immorality of the upper classes 
 was as great under the Tudors as under the Georges. 
 What makes the Georgian age seem repulsive is 
 simply that it is the first age which felt these evils to 
 be evils, which dragged them, in its effort to amend 
 them, into the light of day. It is in fact the moral 
 effort of the time which makes it seem so immoral. 
 Till now social evil had passed unnoted, uncensured, 
 because, save by the directly religious world, it was 
 unfelt. It was a sudden and general zeal for better 
 things which made the eighteenth century note,
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 describe, satirize the evil of society. Then, as now, 
 the bulk of Englishmen were honest and right- 
 minded. ' Between the mud at the bottom and the 
 scum of its surface,' says Mons. Taine fairly enough, 
 * rolled on the great current of the national life.' 
 Widely as it had parted from the theological and 
 political doctrines of Puritanism, the moral concep- 
 tions of Puritanism lived on in the nation at large. 
 The popular book of the upper and middle classes, 
 the book that was in every lady's closet, was ' The 
 whole Duty of Man.' But then, for the first time, this 
 moral temper of the individual Englishman quick- 
 ened into a passion for moral reform in the whole 
 structure of English society. The moral preaching 
 which bores the reader of to-day was the popiflar 
 liteidture of the eighteenth century. Not only can the 
 essayist make conduct the groundwork of his essays, 
 but the novelist takes it as the groundwork of his 
 novels, the play-wright as the basis of his plays. 
 The Beggar's Opera, in which Gay quizzes political 
 corruption, is played amidst thunders of applause. 
 Everybody reads Pope's Satires. Whatever in fact 
 men put their hands to takes somehow this shape 
 of moral reform. ' Give us some models of letters 
 for servant maids to write to their homes,' said the 
 publishers to Richardson ; and Richardson, honestly 
 striving to produce a Complete Letter-writer, gave 
 them ' Pamela.' 
 
 What Addison did for this general impulse was to 
 give it guidance, to stamp it with a larger, a more 
 c
 
 XXU INTRODUCTION. 
 
 liberal, a more harmonious character, than it might 
 otherwise have had. While Puritanism aimed at 
 the culture of ' the best,' the Essayists aimed at the 
 culture of all. Puritanism again had concentrated 
 itself on the development of the religious side of man, 
 as the Renascence had spent itself on the development 
 of his intellectual, his artistic, his physical side. But 
 what Addison aimed at was the development of man 
 as a whole. He would have had men love God as 
 Cromwell loved him, and freedom better than Crom- 
 well loved it, but he would have had liberty and 
 religion associate themselves with all that was 
 human; he would have had no 'horse-play' at the 
 signing of the king's death-warrant. And it is only 
 fair to remember that what he aimed at, he in no 
 small measure actually brought about. The men 
 who sneered in our fathers' day at the preaching of 
 the Essayists were the men whom that preaching had 
 formed. Formal and external as the moral drill of 
 the eighteenth century seems to us, it wrought a 
 revolution in social manners. We smile perhaps at 
 the minuteness of the drill, as when Chesterfield bids 
 his son never pare his nails in society ; but even in 
 these minute matters it has succeeded. And its 
 success is just as great in the greater matters. It is 
 no small triumph to have dissociated learning from 
 pedantry, courage from the quarrelsomeness of the 
 bravo ; to have got rid of the brutalities and brutal 
 pleasures of that older life, of its ' grinning matches' 
 and bull-baitings, its drunkenness and oaths, its
 
 INTRODUCTION, XXlll 
 
 rakes and its mohawks ; to have no more Parson 
 Trullibers, to have superseded the Squire Westerns 
 by the Squire Allworthys, and to have made Lovelace 
 impossible. No doubt a thousand influences had 
 been telling on English society through these hundred 
 years to produce such a change as this ; but Addison 
 was certainly one of these influences, and he was not 
 the one that told least, for through the whole of 
 those years men and women alike were reading and 
 smiling, and chatting and thinking, over the Essays 
 of the Spectator. And yet, as I have said, I cannot 
 feel that there is anything living, anything that 
 really helps or interests us to-day, in the speculations 
 of Addison. His religion is not our religion, for it 
 starts from assumptions which we cannot grant ; its 
 conceptions, whether of God or man, strike us as 
 inadequate and poor ; its ideal of life has lost its 
 charm. We do not care ' to be easy here and happy 
 afterwards.' And grateful as we must be to Addison's 
 morality, yet here again we can but feel that his work 
 is dead. It was far from being common-place to men 
 who had left behind them ages in which morals had 
 been lost in theology, and to whom the very notion 
 of conduct was a new and fascinating thing ; it has 
 become common-place to us just through its very 
 success, through the charm it exercised over men for 
 a hundred years ; but still it has become common- 
 place. Graceful and earnest as such speculations 
 may be, it is hard to read them without a yawn. 
 When these then have been deducted, when we 
 
 C 2
 
 XXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 cease to study Addison as a statesman or a critic, or 
 a theologian or a moralist, what of him remains? 
 Well, I think we may fairly answer, all that is in- 
 dividually and distinctively Addison. There remains 
 his light and playful fancy. There remains his in-, 
 comparable humour. There remains, pervading all, > 
 his large and generous humanity. I know no writer 
 whose moral temper so perfectly reflects itself in his 
 work. His style, with its free, unaffected, movement, 
 its clear distinctness, its graceful transitions, its 
 delicate harmonies, its appropriateness of tone ; the 
 temperance and moderation of his treatment, the 
 effortless self-mastery, the sense of quiet power, the 
 absence of exaggeration or extravagance, the perfect 
 keeping with which he deals with his subjects ; or 
 again the exquisite reserve, the subtle tenderness, the 
 geniality, the pathos of his humour — what are these 
 but the literary reflexion of Addison himself, of that 
 temper so pure and lofty yet so sympathetic, so strong 
 yet so loveable ? In the midst of that explosion of 
 individuality, of individual energy and force, which 
 marked the eighteenth century, Addison stands out 
 individual, full of force, but of a force harmonious, 
 self-controlled, instinct with the sense of measure, 
 of good taste, good humour, culture, urbanity. It 
 seems natural to him that this temper should find its 
 expression in the highest literature. ' The greatest 
 wits I have conversed with,' he says, 'were men 
 eminent for their humanity ' ; and it is this for which 
 he is himself so eminent as a wit, he is humane.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 Man is the one interesting thing to him ; he is never 
 weary of tracking out human character into its shyest 
 recesses, of studying human conduct, of watching the 
 play of human thought and feeHng, and of contrasting 
 man's infinite capacities of greatness with his infinite 
 capacities of Httleness. But the sight stirs in him not 
 Only interest, but sympathy ; he looks on it with eyes 
 as keen as those of Swift, but with a calmer and 
 juster intelligence ; and as he looks it moves him not 
 to the 'saeva indignatio' of the Dean, but to that 
 mingled smile and tear, that blending of ' how won- 
 derful a thing is man,' with, ' but oh ! the pity of it ! ' 
 which had found equal utterance but once before in 
 Shakespeare. It was the sense of this that won him 
 so wide a love in his own day ; and it is the sense of 
 this that still makes his memory so dear to English- 
 men. * To Addison,' says Lord Macaulay, * we are 
 bound by a sentiment as much like affection as any 
 sentiment can be, which is inspired by one who has 
 been sleeping a hundred and twenty years in West- 
 minster Abbey.' It is because I have felt this affec- 
 tion from my own boyhood, when I read my Spectator 
 beneath the shadows of the trees in 'Addison's Walk,' 
 that I have attempted in these Selections to bring 
 Addison home to readers of to-day.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction ..v 
 
 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y i 
 
 Sir Roger at Home 3 
 
 Sir Roger and Will. Wimble 8 
 
 Sir Roger at Church 12 
 
 Sir Roger and the Witches . . . . . . .16 
 
 Sir Roger at the Assizes 20 
 
 Sir Roger and the Gipsies . 25 
 
 Sir Roger in Town 30 
 
 Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey ...... 35 
 
 Sir Roger at the Play 40 
 
 Sir Roger at Vauxhall 45 
 
 Death of Sir Roger ........ 49 
 
 THE TATLER'S COURT 53 
 
 Trial of the Dead in Reason 55 
 
 Trial of the Petticoat ........ 60 
 
 Trial of the Wine-brewers 65 
 
 STATESWOMEN 71 
 
 Party Patches 73 
 
 Women and Liberty 78 
 
 The Ladies' Association 83 
 
 Meeting of the Association 88 
 
 Politics and the Fan 93 
 
 Pretty Disaffection 98 
 
 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN 103 
 
 The Royal Exchange 103 
 
 Stage Lions no 
 
 The Political Upholsterer ....... 115 
 
 A Visit from the Upholsterer 120 
 
 The Fortune Hunter 124 
 
 Tom Folio 129 
 
 The Man of the Town 133 
 
 The Trunkmaker at the Play 137 
 
 Coffee-House Politicians 142 
 
 London Cries 147 
 
 The Cat-Call 152 
 
 The Newspaper . . « • 157 
 
 Coffee-House Debates . . . • . . . .162 
 
 The Vision of Public Credit 166
 
 XXVllI CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 TALES AND ALLEGORIES 171 
 
 The Vision of Mirza 173 
 
 The Tale of Marathon 179 
 
 The Golden Scales 185 
 
 Hilpa and Shalum 190 
 
 The Vision of Justice 197 
 
 THE COURT OF HONOUR 211 
 
 Institution of the Court 213 
 
 Charge to the Jury 217 
 
 Trial of Punctilios 222 
 
 Cases of False Delicacy 228 
 
 Trial of Ladies' Quarrels ....... 233 
 
 Trial of False Affronts 238 
 
 COUNTRY HUMOURS 243 
 
 The Tory Foxhunter 245 
 
 The Foxhunter at a Masquerade 251 
 
 Conversion of the Foxhunter 256 
 
 Country Manners 261 
 
 Country Fashions 265 
 
 Country Etiquette 269 
 
 The Grinning Match 274 
 
 HUMOURS OF FASHION 279 
 
 A Beau's Head ......... 2S1 
 
 A Coquette's Heart 286 
 
 The Hood 291 
 
 The Head-dress 296 
 
 The Fan Exercise 300 
 
 A Lady's Diary 304 
 
 Fashions from France ..,...,. 309 
 
 Woman on Horseback 314 
 
 "VARIOUS ESSAYS 3,9 
 
 Omens . . . . 321 
 
 Lady Orators 326 
 
 Adventures of a Shilling 331 
 
 Husbands and Wives ........ 336 
 
 Religions in Waxwork . 340 
 
 A Friend of Mankind 347 
 
 Demurrers in Love 3;;2 
 
 Sir Timothy Tittle 336 
 
 Frozen Words 361 
 
 The Tall Club 3f^7 
 
 Advice in Love 57 , 
 
 Thoughts in Westminster Abbey . , , , , . jj 1
 
 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY.
 
 [In Ids general account of the Spectator Chtb, Addi- 
 son gives us a zn'gnette of Sir Roger, which may serve 
 as preface to his papers.^ 
 
 The first of our society is a gentleman of Worcestershire, of ancient 
 descent, a baronet, his name Sir Roger de Coverley. His great grand- 
 father was inventor of that famous country-dance wliich is called after 
 him. All who know that shire are very well acquainted with the parts 
 and merits of Sir Roger. He is a gentleman that is very singular in his 
 behaviour, but his singularities proceed from his good sense, and are 
 contradictions to the manners of the world, only as he thinks the world 
 is in the wrong. However, this humour creates him no enemies, for he 
 does nothing with sourness or obstinacy; and his being unconfined to 
 modes and forms, makes him but the readier and more capable to please 
 and oblige all who know him. When he is in town, he lives in Soho 
 Square. It is said, he keeps himself a batchelor, by reason he was crossed 
 in love by a perverse beautiful widow of the next county to him. Before 
 this disappointment, Sir Roger was what you call a fine gentleman, had 
 often supped with my Lord Rochester and Sir George Etherege, fought 
 a duel upon his first coming to town, and kicked Bully Dawson in a public 
 cofi'eehouse, for calling him youngster. But, being ill used by the above 
 mentioned widow, he was very serious for a year and a half; and though, 
 his temper being naturally jovial, he at last got over it, he grew careless 
 of himself, and never dressed afterwards. He continues to wear a coat 
 and doublet of the same cut, that were in fashion at the time of his repulse, 
 which, in his merry humours, he tells us, has been in and out twelve times 
 since he first wore it. He is now in his fiuy-sixth year, chearful, gay, and 
 hearty; ke<:ps a good house both in town and country; a great lover of 
 mankind ; but there is such a mirthful cast in his behaviour, that he is 
 rather beloved than esteemed. His tenants grow rich, his servants look 
 satisfied, all the young women profess love to him, and the young men 
 aregladof his company ; when he comes into a house, he calls the servants 
 by their names, and talks all the way up stairs to a visit. I must not 
 omit, that Sir Roger is a justice of the qjiorum ; that he fills the chair 
 at a quarter-session with great abilities, and three months ago, gained 
 universal applause, by explaining a passage in the game-act.
 
 ^I'r mogcr at |Bome. 
 
 Having often received an invitation from my friend 
 Sir Roger de Coverley to pass away a month with 
 him in the country, I last week accompanied him 
 thither, and am settled with him for some time at his 
 country-house, where I intend to form several of my 
 ensuing speculations. Sir Roger, who is very well 
 acquainted with my humour, lets me rise and go to 
 bed when I please ; dine at his own table, or in my 
 chamber, as I think fit ; sit still, and say nothing, 
 without bidding me be meny. When the gentlemen 
 of the country come to see him, he only shows me at 
 a distance. As I have been walking in his fields, I 
 have observed them stealing a sight of me over an 
 hedge, and have heard the knight desiring them not 
 to let me see them, for that I hated to be stared at, 
 
 I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, be- 
 cause it consists of sober and staid persons ; for as 
 the knight is the best master in the world, he seldom 
 changes his servants ; and as he is beloved by all 
 about him, his servants never care for leaving him : 
 by this means his domestics are all in years, and 
 grown old with their master. You would take his 
 valet de chambre for his brother ; his butler is gray- 
 headed ; his groom is one of the gravest men that 
 I have ever seen ; and his coachman has the looks 
 of a privy-councillor. You see the goodness of the
 
 4 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY, 
 
 master even in the old house-dog ; and in a gray pad, 
 that is kept in the stable with great care and tender- 
 ness out of regard to his past services, though he has 
 been useless for several years. 
 
 I could not but observe with a great deal of plea- 
 sure, the joy that appeared in the countenances of 
 these ancient domestics upon my friend's arrival at 
 his country-seat. Some of them could not refrain 
 from tears at the sight of their old master ; every one 
 of them pressed forward to do something for him, and 
 seemed discouraged if they were not employed. At 
 the same time the good old knight, with a mixture 
 of the father and the master of the family, tempered 
 the inquiries after his own affairs with several kind 
 questions relating to themselves. This humanity and 
 good-nature engages e\erybody to him, so that when 
 he is pleasant upon any of them, all his family are in 
 good humour, and none so much as the person whom 
 he diverts himself with : on the contrary, if he coughs, 
 or betrays any infirmity of old age, it is easy for a 
 stander-by to observe a secret concern in the looks 
 of all his servants. 
 
 My worthy friend has put me under the particular 
 care of his butler, who is a very prudent man, and, 
 as well as the rest of his fellow-servants, wonderfully 
 desirous of pleasing me, because they have often 
 heard their master talk of me as of his particular 
 friend. 
 
 My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting 
 himself in the woods or the fields, is a very venerable 
 man, who is ever with Sir Roger, and has lived at his 
 house in the nature of a chaplain above thirty years. 
 This gentleman is a person of good sense, and some
 
 SIR ROGER AT HOME, 5 
 
 learning, of a veiy regular life, and obliging con- 
 versation : he heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows 
 that he is very much in the old knight's esteem ; so 
 that he lives in the family rather as a relation than 
 a dependant. 
 
 I have observed in several of my papers, that my 
 friend Sir Roger, amidst all his good qualities, is 
 something of an humourist ; and that his virtues, as 
 well as imperfections, are, as it were, tinged by a 
 certain extravagance, which makes them particularly 
 his, and distinguishes them from those of other men. 
 This cast of mind, as it is generally very innocent in 
 itself, so it renders his conversation highly agreeable, 
 and more delightful than the same degree of sense and 
 virtue would appear in their common and ordinary 
 colours. As I was walking with him last night, he 
 asked me how I liked the good man whom I have 
 just now mentioned ; and, without staying for my 
 answer, told me, that he was afraid of being insulted 
 with Latin and Greek at his own table ; for which 
 reason, he desired a. particular friend of his at the 
 University, to find him out a clergyman rather of 
 plain sense than much learning, of a good aspect, a 
 clear voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man 
 that understood a little of backgammon. My friend 
 (says Sir Roger) found me out this gentleman, who, 
 besides the endowments required of him, is, they tell 
 me, a good scholar, though he does not show it. I 
 have given him the parsonage of the parish ; and 
 because I know his value, have settled upon him a 
 good annuity for life. If he outlives me, he shall find 
 that he was higlier in my esteem than perhaps he 
 thinks he is. He has now been with me thirty years ;
 
 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 and, though he does not know I have taken notice of 
 it, has never in all that time asked anything of me 
 for himself, though he is every day soliciting me for 
 something in behalf of one or other of my tenants, his 
 parishioners. There has not been a law-suit in the 
 parish since he has lived among them : if any dispute 
 arises, they apply themselves to him for the decision ; 
 if they do not acquiesce in his judgment, which I 
 think never happened above once, or twice at most, 
 they appeal to me. At his first settHng with me, I 
 made him a present of all the good sermons which 
 have been printed in English, and only begged of him 
 that every Sunday he would pronounce one of them 
 in the pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them into 
 such a series, that they follow one another naturally, 
 and make a continued system of practical divinity. 
 
 As Sir Roger was going on in his story, the gentle- 
 man we were talking of came up to us ; and upon the 
 knight's asking him who preached to-morrow (for it 
 was Saturday night), told us, the Bishop of St. Asaph 
 in the morning, and Dr. South in the afternoon. He 
 then showed us his list of preachers for the whole 
 year, where I saw with a great deal of pleasure. Arch- 
 bishop Tillotson, Bishop Saundcrson, Doctor Barrow, 
 Doctor Calamy, with several living authors who have 
 published discourses of practical divinity. I no sooner 
 saw this venerable man in the pulpit, but I very much 
 approved of my friend's insisting upon the qualifica- 
 tions of a good aspect and a clear voice ; for I was 
 so charmed with the gracefulness of his figure and 
 delivery, as well as the discourses he pronounced, 
 that I think I never passed any time more to my 
 satisfaction. A sermon repeated after this manner,
 
 SIR ROGER AT HOME. 7 
 
 is like the composition of a poet in the mouth of a 
 graceful actor. 
 
 I could heartily wish that more of our country 
 clergy would follow this example, and, instead of 
 wasting their spirits in laborious compositions of their 
 own, would endeavour after a handsome elocution, 
 and all those other talents that are proper to enforce 
 what has been penned by greater masters. This 
 would not only be more easy to themselves, but more 
 edifying to the people.
 
 ^ir ilioger nnK SSlill. Satmbk. 
 
 As I was yesterday morning walking with Sir Roger 
 before his house, a country fellow brought him a huge 
 fish, which, he told him, Mr. William Wimble had 
 caught that very morning ; and that he presented it 
 with his service to him, and intended to come and 
 dine with him. At the same time he delivered a 
 letter, which my friend read to me as soon as the 
 messenger left him. 
 
 'Sir Roger, 
 
 * I desire you to accept of a Jack, which is the 
 best I have caught this season. I intend to come and 
 stay with you a week, and see how the Perch bite in 
 the Black river. I observed with some concern, the 
 last time I saw you upon the Bowling-green, that your 
 whip wanted a lash to it : I will bring half a dozen 
 with me that I twisted last week, which I hope will 
 serve you all the time you are in the countiy. 1 have 
 not been out of the saddle for six days last past, 
 having been at Eaton with Sir John's eldest son. He 
 takes to his learning hugely. 
 
 * I am. Sir, your humble Servant, 
 
 Will. Wimble.' 
 
 This extraordinary' letter, and message that accom- 
 panied it, made me very curious to know the character 
 and quality of the gentleman who sent them ; which 
 I found to be as follows. Will. Wimble is younger 
 brother to a baronet, and descended of the ancient
 
 SIR ROGER AND WILL. WIMBLE. 9 
 
 family of the Wimbles. He- is now between forty and 
 fifty ; but being bred to no business, and born to no 
 estate, he generally lives with his elder brother as 
 superintendent of his game. He hunts a pack of 
 dogs better than any man in the country, and is very 
 famous for finding out a hare. He is extremely well 
 versed in all the little handicrafts of an idle man : 
 he makes a May-fly to a miracle ; and furnishes the 
 whole country with angle-rods. As he is a good- 
 natured, officious fellow, and very much esteemed 
 upon account of his family, he is a welcome guest at 
 every house, and keeps up a good correspondence 
 among all the gentlemen about him. He carries a 
 tulip root in his pocket from one to another, or ex- 
 changes a puppy between a couple of friends that live 
 perhaps in the opposite sides of the county. Will, is 
 a particular favourite of all the young heirs, whom he 
 frequently obliges with a net that he has weaved, or 
 a setting-dog that he has made himself; he now and 
 then presents a pair of garters of his own knitting to 
 their mothers or sisters ; and raises a gi'eat deal of 
 mirth among them, by inquiring, as often as he meets 
 them, ' how they wear.?' These gentleman-like manu- 
 factures, and obliging little humours, make Will, the 
 darling of the country. 
 
 Sir Roger was proceeding in the character of him, 
 when he saw him make up to us with two or three 
 hazel-twigs in his hand, that he had cut in Sir Roger's 
 woods, as he came through them in his way to the 
 house. I was very much pleased to observe on one 
 side the hearty and sincere welcome with which Sir 
 Roger received him, and on the other, the secret joy 
 which his guest discovered at sight of the good old
 
 lO SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 knight. After the first salutes were over, Will, desired 
 Sir Roger to lend him one of his servants to carry a 
 set of shuttle-cocks, he had with him in a little box, to 
 a lady that lived about a mile off, to whom it seems 
 he had promised such a present for above this half- 
 year. Sir Roger's back was no sooner turned, but 
 honest Will, began to tell me of a large cock pheasant 
 that he had sprung in one of the neighbouring woods, 
 with two or three other adventures of the same nature. 
 Odd and uncommon characters are the game that 
 I look for, and most delight in ; for which reason I 
 was as much pleased with the novelty of the person 
 that talked to me, as he could be for his life with the 
 springing of a pheasant, and therefore listened to him 
 with more than ordinary attention. 
 
 In the midst of his discourse the bell rung to dinner, 
 where the gentleman I have been speaking of had the 
 pleasure of seeing the huge Jack, he had caught, 
 served up for the first dish in a most sumptuous 
 manner. Upon our sitting down to it, he gave us a 
 long account how he had hooked it, played with it, 
 foiled it, and at length drew it out upon the bank, 
 with several other particulars, that lasted all the first 
 course. A dish of wild fowl, that came afterwards, 
 furnished conversation for the rest of the dinner, 
 which concluded with a late invention of Will.'s for 
 improving the quail-pipe. 
 
 Upon withdrawing into my room after dinner, I was 
 secretly touched with compassion towards tlie honest 
 gentleman that had dined with us ; and could not but 
 consider, with a great deal of concern, how so good 
 an heart, and such busy hands, were wholly employed 
 in trifles J that so much humanity should be so little
 
 SIR ROGER AND WILL. WIMISLE. II 
 
 beneficial to others, and so much industry so little 
 advantageous to himself. The same temper of mind, 
 and application to affairs, might have recommended 
 him to the public esteem, and have raised his fortune 
 in another station of life. What good to his country, 
 or himself, might not a trader or merchant have done 
 with such useful, though ordinary, qualifications ? 
 
 Will. Wimble's is the case of many a younger 
 brother of a great family, who had rather see their 
 children starve like gentlemen, than thrive in a trade 
 or profession that is beneath their quality. This 
 humour fills several parts of Europe with pride and 
 beggary. It is the happiness of a trading nation, like 
 ours, that the younger sons, though incapable of any 
 liberal art or profession, may be placed in such a way 
 of life, as may perhaps enable them to vie with the 
 best of their family : accordingly, we find several 
 citizens that were launched into the world with narrow 
 fortunes, rising by an honest industry to greater 
 estates than those of their elder brothers. It is not 
 improbable but Will, was formerly tried at divinity, 
 law, or physic ; and that finding his genius did not lie 
 that way, his parents gave him up at length to his 
 own inventions. But certainly, however improper he 
 might have been for studies of a higher nature, he 
 was perfectly well turned for the occupations of trade 
 and commerce.
 
 ^ir Moger at €\Mt\). 
 
 I AM always very well pleased with a country 
 Sunday ; and think, if keeping holy the seventh day 
 were only a human institution, it would be the best 
 method that could have been thought of for the 
 polishing and civilizing of mankind. It is certain the 
 country-people would soon degenerate into a kind of 
 savages and barbarians, were there not such frequent 
 returns of a stated time, in which the whole village 
 meet together with their best fiices, and in their 
 cleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon 
 indifferent subjects, hear their duties explained to 
 them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme 
 Being. Sunday clears away the rust of the whole 
 week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the 
 notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon 
 appearing in tlieir most agreeable forms, and exerting 
 all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in 
 the eye of the village. A country-fellow distinguishes 
 himself as much in the church-yard as a citizen does 
 upon the Change, the whole parish-politics being 
 generally discussed in that place either after sermon 
 or before the bell rings. 
 
 My friend Sir Roger, being a good church-man, has 
 beautified the inside of his church with several texts 
 of his own choosing ; he has likewise given a hand- 
 some pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communion-table
 
 SIR ROGER AT CHURCH. I3 
 
 at his own expense. He has often told me, that at 
 his coming to his estate he found his parishioners very 
 irregular ; and that in order to make them kneel and join 
 in the responses, he gave eveiy one of them a hassoc 
 and a Common Prayer Book ; and at the same time 
 employed an itinerant singing-master, who goes about 
 the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly 
 in the tunes of the psalms ; upon which they now very 
 much value themselves, and indeed out-do most of 
 the country churches that I have ever heard. 
 
 As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, 
 he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer 
 nobody to sleep in it besides himself ; for if by chance 
 he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, 
 upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about 
 him, and if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes 
 them himself, or sends his servant to them. Several 
 other of the old knight's particularities break out upon 
 these occasions : sometimes he will be lengthening 
 out a verse in the singing-psalms, half a minute after 
 the rest of the congregation have done with it ; some- 
 times, when he is pleased with the matter of his de- 
 votion, he pronounces Amen three or four times to 
 the same prayer ; and sometimes stands up when 
 everybody else is upon their knees, to count the con- 
 gregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing. 
 
 I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old 
 friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one 
 John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not 
 disturb the congregation. This John Matthews, it 
 seems, is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at 
 that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This 
 authority of the knight, though exerted in that odd
 
 14 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 manner which accompanies him in all circumstances 
 of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are 
 not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his 
 behaviour ; besides that the general good sense and 
 worthiness of his character, make his friends observe 
 these little singularities as foils that rather set off than 
 blemish his good qualities. 
 
 As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes 
 to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The 
 knight walks down from his seat in the chancel between 
 a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him 
 on each side ; and every now and then he inquires 
 how such an one's wife, or mother, or son, or father 
 do, whom he does not see at church ; which is under- 
 stood as a secret reprimand to the person that is 
 absent. 
 
 The chaplain has often told me, that upon a cate- 
 chising-day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a 
 boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be 
 given him next day for his encouragement ; and some- 
 times accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his 
 mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five pounds a 
 year to the clerk's place ; and that he may encourage 
 the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the 
 church-service, has promised, upon the death of the 
 present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it 
 according to merit. 
 
 The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his 
 chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, 
 is the more remarkable, because the very next village 
 is famous for the differences and contentions that rise 
 between the parson and the 'squire, who live in a 
 perpetual state of war. The parson is always at the
 
 SIR ROGER AT CHURCH. IS 
 
 'squire, and the 'squire, to be revenged on the parson, 
 never comes to church. The 'squire has made all his 
 tenants atheists and tithe-stealers ; while the parson 
 instructs them every Sunday in the dignity of his 
 order, and insinuates to them, almost in every sermon, 
 that he is a better man than his patron. In short, 
 matters are come to such an extremity, that the 'squire 
 has not said his prayers either in public or private this 
 half year ; and that the parson threatens him, if he 
 does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the 
 face of the whole congregation. 
 
 Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the 
 country, are veiy fatal to the ordinary people ; who 
 are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay 
 as much deference to the understanding of a man of 
 an estate, as of a man of learning ; and are very hardly 
 brought to regard any truth, how important soever it 
 may be, that is preached to them, when they know 
 there are several men of five hundred a year who do 
 not believe it.
 
 There are some opinions in which a man should 
 stand neuter, without engaging his assent to one side 
 or the other. Such a hovering faith as this, which 
 refuses to settle upon any determination, is absolutely 
 necessary in a mind that is careful to avoid errors and 
 prepossessions. When the arguments press equally 
 on both sides in matters that are indiflerent to us, the 
 safest method is to give up ourselves to neither. 
 
 It is with this temper of mind that I consider the 
 subject of witchcraft. When I hear the relations that 
 are made from all parts of the world, not only from 
 Norway and Lapland, from the East and West Indies, 
 but from every particular nation in Europe, I cannot 
 forbear thinking that there is such an intercourse and 
 commerce with evil spirits, as that which we express 
 by the name of witchcraft. But when I consider that 
 the ignorant and credulous parts of the world abound 
 most in these relations, and that the persons among 
 us who are supposed to engage in such an infernal 
 commerce, are people of a weak understanding and 
 crazed imagination, and at the same time reflect upon 
 the many impostures and delusions of this nature that 
 have been detected in all ages, I endeavour to suspend 
 my belief, till I hear more certain accounts than any 
 which have yet come to my knowledge. In short, 
 when I consider the question, Vv'hetlicr there are such
 
 SIR ROGER AND THE WITCHES, 17 
 
 persons in the world as those we call witches ? my 
 mind is divided between two opposite opinions ; or 
 rather (to speak my thoughts freely) I believe in 
 general that there is, and has been, such a thing as 
 witchcraft ; but at the same time can give no credit 
 to any particular instance of it. 
 
 I am engaged in this speculation, by some occur- 
 rences that I met with yesterday, which I shall give 
 my reader an account of at large. As I was walking 
 with my friend Sir Roger, by the side of one of his 
 woods, an old woman applied herself to me for my 
 charity. Her dress and figure put me in mind of the 
 following description in Otway : 
 
 In a close lane, as I" pursued my journey, 
 I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown double, 
 Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself. 
 Her eyes with scalding rheum were galled and red; 
 Cold palsy shook her head ; her hands seemed witliered ; 
 And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapped 
 The tattered remnants of an old stripped hanging. 
 Which served to keep her carcass from the cold, 
 So there was nothing of a piece about her. 
 Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched 
 With different coloured rags, black, red, white, yellow, 
 And seemed to speak variety of wretchedness. 
 
 As I was musing on this description, and comparing 
 it with the object before me, the knight told me, that 
 this very old woman had the reputation of a witch all 
 over the country, that her lips were observed to be 
 always in motion, and that there was not a switch 
 about her house which her neighbours did not believe 
 had carried her several hundreds of miles. If she 
 chanced to stumble, they always found sticks or straws 
 that lay in the figure of a cross before her. If she 
 made any mistake at church, and cried Amen in a 
 C
 
 1 8 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 wrong place, they never failed to conclude that she 
 was saying her prayers backwards. There was not 
 a maid in the parish that would take a pin of her, 
 though she should offer a bag of money with it. She 
 goes by the name of Moll White, and has made the 
 country ring with several imaginary exploits which 
 are palmed upon her. If the dairy-maid does not 
 make her butter to come so soon as she would have 
 itj Moll White is at the bottom of the churn. If a 
 horse sweats in the stable, Moll White has been upon 
 his back. If a hare makes an unexpected escape 
 from the hounds, the huntsman curses Moll White. 
 Nay, (says Sir Roger,) I have known the master of 
 the pack, upon such an occasion, send one of his 
 servants to see if Moll White had been out that 
 morning. 
 
 This account raised my curiosity so far, that I 
 begged my friend Sir Roger to go with me into her 
 hovel, which stood in a solitary corner under the side 
 of the wood. Upon our first entering. Sir Roger 
 winked to me, and pointed to something that stood 
 behind the door, which, upon looking that way, I 
 found to be an old broom-staff. At the same time he 
 whispered me in the ear, to take notice of a tabby .cat 
 that sat in the chimney-corner, which, as the knight told 
 me, lay under as bad a report as Moll White herself; 
 for besides that Moll is said often to accompany her 
 in the same shape, the cat is reported to have spoken 
 twice or thrice in her life, and to have played several 
 pranks above the capacity of an ordinary cat. 
 
 I was secretly concerned to sec human nature in so 
 much wretchedness and disgrace, but at the same 
 time could not forbear smiling to hear Sir Roger, who
 
 SIR ROGER AND THE WITCHES. 19 
 
 is a little puzzled about the old woman, advising her, 
 as a justice of peace, to avoid all communication with 
 the devil, and never to hurt any of her neighbours' 
 cattle. We concluded our visit with a bounty, which 
 was very acceptable. 
 
 In our return home, Sir Roger told me that old 
 Moll had been often brought before him for making 
 children spit pins, and giving maids the night-mare ; 
 and that the countiy people would be tossing her into 
 a pond, and trying experiments with her every day, if 
 it was not for him and his chaplain. 
 
 I have since found, upon inquiry, that Sir Roger was 
 several times staggered with the reports that had been 
 brought him concerning this old woman, and would 
 frequently have bound her over to the county sessions, 
 had not his chaplain with much ado persuaded him 
 to the contrary. 
 
 I have been the more particular in this account, 
 because I hear there is scarce a village in England 
 that has not a Moll White in it. When an old woman 
 begins to dote, and grow chargeable to a parish, she 
 is generally turned into a witch, and fills the whole 
 country with extravagant fancies, imaginaiy dis- 
 tempers, and terrifying dreams. In the mean time 
 the poor wretch that is the innocent occasion of so 
 many evils, begins to be frighted at herself, and 
 sometimes confesses secret commerces and familiar- 
 ities that her imagination forms in a delirious old age. 
 This frequently cuts off charity from the greatest 
 objects of compassion, and inspires people with a 
 malevolence towards those poor decrepit parts of our 
 species, in whom human nature is defaced by infirmity 
 and dotage. 
 
 C2
 
 ^ir ^om at tl)t ^ssi>s. 
 
 A man's first care should be to avoid the reproaches 
 of his own heart ; his next, to escape the censures of 
 the world : if the last interferes with the former, it 
 ought to be entirely neglected ; but otherwise there 
 cannot be a greater satisfaction to an honest mind, 
 than to see those approbations which it gives itself 
 seconded by the applauses of the public : a man is 
 more sure of his conduct, when the verdict which he 
 passes upon his own behaviour is thus warranted and 
 confirmed by the opinion of all that know him. 
 
 My worthy friend Sir Roger is one of those who is 
 not only at peace within himself, but beloved and 
 esteemed by all about him. He receives a suitable 
 tribute for his universal benevolence to mankind, in 
 the returns of affection and good-will which are paid 
 him by every one that lives within his neighbourhood. 
 I lately met with two or three odd instances of that 
 general respect which is shown to the good old knight. 
 He would needs carry Will. Wimble and myself with 
 him to the countiy assizes : as we were upon the road, 
 Will. Wimble joined a couple of plain men who rid 
 before us, and conversed with them for some time ; 
 during which my friend Sir Roger acquainted me with 
 their characters. 
 
 The first of them, says he, that hath a spaniel by 
 his side, is a yeoman of abouf a hundred pounds a
 
 SIR ROGER AT THE ASSIZES. 21 
 
 year, an honest man : he is just within the game act, 
 and quahfied to kill an hare or a pheasant : he knocks 
 down a dinner with his gun twice or thrice a week ; 
 and by that means lives much cheaper than those 
 who have not so good an estate as himself. He 
 would be a good neighbour if he did not destroy so 
 many partridges : in short, he is a very sensible man ; 
 shoots flying ; and has been several times fore-man 
 of the petty-jury. 
 
 The other that rides with him is Tom Touchy, a 
 fellow famous for taking the law of everybody. There 
 is not one in the town where he lives that he has not 
 sued at a quarter-sessions. The rogue had once the 
 impudence to go to law with the widow. His head is 
 full of costs, damages, and ejectments : he plagued a 
 couple of honest gentlemen so long for a trespass in 
 breaking one of his hedges, till he was forced to sell 
 the ground it enclosed to defray the charges of the 
 prosecution. His father left him fourscore pounds a 
 year ; but he has cast and been cast so often, that he 
 is not now worth thirty. I suppose he is going upon 
 the old business of the willow-tree. 
 
 As Sir Roger was giving me this account of Tom 
 Touchy, Will. Wimble and his two companions stopped 
 short till we came up to them. After having paid their 
 respects to Sir Roger, Will, told him that Mr. Touchy 
 and he must appeal to him upon a dispute that arose 
 between them. Will, it seems, had been giving his 
 fellow-travellers an account of his angling one day in 
 such a hole ; when Tom Touchy, instead of hearing 
 out his story, told him, that Mr. such an one, if he 
 pleased, might take the law of him for fishing in that 
 part of the river. My friend Sir Roger heard them
 
 22 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 both, upon a round trot, and after having paused some 
 time, told them, with an air of a man who would not 
 give his judgment rashly, that much might be said on 
 both sides. They were neither of them dissatisfied 
 with the knight's determination, because neither of 
 them found himself in the wrong by it : upon which 
 we made the best of our way to the assizes. 
 
 The court was sat before Sir Roger came, but not- 
 withstanding all the justices had taken their places 
 upon the bench, they made room for the old knight 
 at the head of them ; who, for his reputation in the 
 country, took occasion to whisper in the judge's ear; 
 that he was glad his lordship had met with so much 
 good weather in his circuit. I was listening to the 
 proceedings of the court with much attention, and 
 infinitely pleased with that great appearance of so- 
 lemnity which so properly accompanies such a public 
 administration of our laws ; when, after about an 
 hour's sitting, I observed, to my great surprise, in the 
 midst of a trial, that my friend Sir Roger was getting 
 up to speak. I was in some pain for him, till I found 
 he had acquitted himself of two or three sentences, 
 with a look of much business and great intrepidity. 
 
 Upon his first rising the court was hushed, and a 
 general whisper ran among the country people that 
 Sir Roger was up. The speech he made was so 
 little to the purpose, that I shall not trouble my 
 readers with an account of it ; and I believe was not 
 so much designed by the knight himself to inform the 
 court, as to give him a figure in my eye, and keep up 
 his credit in the country. 
 
 I was highly delighted, when the court rose, to see 
 the gentlemen of the country gathering about my old
 
 SIR ROGER AT THE ASSIZES. 23 
 
 friend, and striving who should compliment him most ; 
 at the same time that the ordinary people gazed upon 
 him at a distance, not a little admiring his courage, 
 that was not afraid to speak to the judge. 
 - In our return home we met with a very odd acci- 
 -dent ; which I cannot forbear relating, because it 
 shows how desirous all who know Sir Roger are of 
 giving him marks of their esteem. When we were 
 arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a 
 little inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man 
 of the house had, it seems, been formerly a servant in 
 the knight's family ; and to do honour to his old 
 master, had some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, 
 put him up in a sign-post before the door ; so that 
 The Knight's Head had hung out upon the road about 
 a week before he himself knew anything of the matter. 
 As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding 
 that his servant's indiscretion proceeded wholly from 
 affection and good-will, he only told him that he had 
 made him too high a compliment : and when the 
 fellow seemed to think that could hardly be, added 
 with a more decisive look, that it was too great an 
 honour for any man under a duke ; but told him at 
 the same time, that it might be altered with a very few 
 touches, and that he himself would be at the charge 
 of it. Accordingly they got a painter by the knight's 
 directions to add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by 
 a little aggravation of the features to change it into the 
 Saracen's Head. I should not have known this story, 
 had not the inn-keeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, 
 told him in my hearing that his Honour's head was 
 brought back last night, with the alterations that he 
 had ordered to be made in it. Upon this my friend,
 
 34 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 with his usual cheerfulness, related the particulars 
 above-mentioned, and ordered the head to be brought 
 into the room. I could not forbear discovering greater 
 expressions of mirth than ordinary upon the appear- 
 ance of this monstrous face, under which, notwith- 
 standing it was made to frown and stare in the most 
 extraordinary manner, I could still discover a distant 
 resemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger, upon seeing 
 me laugh, desired me to tell him truly if I thought it 
 possible for people to know him in that disguise. I at 
 first kept my usual silence ; but upon the knight's con- 
 juring me to tell him whether it was not still more like 
 himself than a Saracen, I composed my countenance 
 in the best manner I could, and replied, * That much 
 might be said on both sides.' 
 
 These several adventures, with the knight's beha- 
 viour in them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever ■' 
 met with in any of my travels.
 
 As I was yesterday riding out in the fields with my 
 friend Sir Roger, we saw at a little distance from us 
 a troop of gipsies. Upon the first discovery of them, 
 my friend was in some doubt whether he should not 
 exert the justice of peace upon such a band of lawless 
 vagrants : but not having his clerk with him, who is 
 a necessary counsellor on these occasions, and fearing 
 that his poultry might fare the worse for it, he let the 
 thought drop. But at the same time gave me a 
 particular account of the mischiefs they do in the 
 country, in stealing people's goods, and spoiling their 
 servants. * If a stray piece of linen hangs upon an 
 hedge, (says Sir Roger,) they are sure to have it ; if 
 a hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one but 
 he becomes their prey : our geese cannot live in peace 
 for them. If a man prosecutes them with severity, his 
 hen-roost is sure to pay for it. They generally straggle 
 into these parts about this time of the year ; and set 
 the heads of our servant-maids so agog for husbands, 
 that we do not expect to have any business done, as 
 it should be, whilst they are in the country. I have 
 an honest dairy-maid who crosses their hands with 
 a piece of silver every summer ; and never fails being 
 promised the handsomest young fellow in the parish 
 for her pains. Your friend the butler has been fool 
 enough to be seduced by them ; and though he is
 
 26 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon, every time his 
 fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in 
 the pantry with an old gipsy for about half an hour 
 once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are the things 
 they live upon, which they bestow very plentifully 
 upon all those that apply themselves to them. You 
 see now and then some handsome young jades 
 among them : the sluts have very often white teeth 
 and black eyes.' ■;'; 
 
 Sir Roger observing that I listened with great at^ 
 tention to his account of a people who were so entirely 
 new to me, told me, that if I v/ould, they should tell 
 us our fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the 
 knight's proposal, we rid up and communicated our 
 hands to them. A Cassandra of the crew, after having 
 examined my lines very diligently, told me that I 
 loved a pretty maid in a corner, that I was a good 
 woman's man, with some other particulars which t 
 do not think proper to relate. My friend Sir Roger 
 alighted from his horse, and exposing his palm to two 
 or three that stood by him, they crumpled it into all 
 shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle that 
 could be made in it ; when one of them, who was 
 older and more sun-burnt than the rest, told him that 
 he had a widow in his line of life : upon which the 
 knight cried, 'Go, go, you ai'e an idle baggage ;' and 
 at the same time smiled upon me. The gipsy finding 
 he was not displeased in his heart, told him, after a 
 further inquiry into his hand, that his true love was 
 constant, and that she should dream of him to-night. 
 My old friend cried pish, and bid her go on. The 
 gipsy told him that he was a bachelor, but would not 
 be so long ; and that he was dearer to somebody than
 
 SIR ROGER AND THE GIPSIES, 27 
 
 he thought. The knight still repeated, she was an 
 idle baggage, and bid her go on. ' Ah, master, (says 
 the gipsy,) that roguish leer of yours makes a pretty 
 woman's heart ache ; you ha'n't that simper about the 
 mouth for nothing.' The uncouth gibberish with which 
 all this was uttered, like the darkness of an oracle, 
 made us the more attentive to it. To be short, the 
 knight left the money with her that he had crossed 
 her hand with, and got up again on his horse. 
 
 As we were riding away, Sir Roger told me, that 
 he knew several sensible people who believed these 
 gipsies now and then foretold very strange things ; 
 and for half an hour together appeared more jocund 
 than ordinary. In the height of this good humour, 
 meeting a common beggar upon the road who was no 
 conjurer, as he went to relieve him, he found his 
 pocket was picked ! that being a kind of palmistry at 
 which this race of vermin are very dexterous. 
 
 I might here entertain my reader with historical 
 remarks on this idle, profligate people, who infest all 
 the countries of Europe, and live in the midst of 
 governments in a kind of commonwealth by them- 
 selves. But, instead of entering into observations of 
 this nature, I shall fill the remaining part of my paper 
 with a story which is still fresh in Holland, and was 
 printed in one of our monthly accounts about twenty 
 years ago. *As the Trekschuyt, or Hackney-boat, 
 which carries passengers from Leyden to Amsterdam, 
 was putting off, a boy running along the side of the canal 
 desired to be taken in ; which the master of the boat 
 refused, because the lad had not quite money enough 
 to pay the usual fare. An eminent merchant being 
 pleased with the looks of the boy, and secretly touched
 
 28 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 with compassion towards him, paid the money for 
 him, and ordered him to be taken on board. Upon 
 talking with him afterwards, he found that he could 
 speak readily in three or four languages, and learned 
 upon further examination, that he had been stolen 
 away when he was a child by a gipsy, and had rambled 
 ever since with a gang of those strollers up and down 
 several parts of Europe. It happened that the mer- 
 chant, whose heart seems to have inclined towards 
 the boy by a secret kind of instinct, had himself lost 
 a child some years before. The parents, after a long 
 search for him, gave him for drowned in one of the 
 canals with which that country abounds ; and the 
 mother was so afflicted at the loss of a fine boy, who 
 was her only son, that she died for grief of it. Upon 
 laying together all particulars, and examining the 
 several moles and marks by which the mother used 
 to describe the child when he was first missing, the 
 boy proved to be the son of the merchant, whose heart 
 had so unaccountably melted at the sight of him. 
 The lad was very well pleased to find a father who 
 was so rich, and likely to leave him a good estate : 
 the father, on the other hand, was not a little delighted 
 to see a son return to him, whom he had given for 
 lost, with such a strength of constitution, sharpness 
 of understanding, and skill in languages.' Here the 
 printed story leaves off; but if I may give credit to 
 reports, our linguist having received such extraordinary 
 rudiments towards a good education, was afterwards 
 trained up in everything that becomes a gentleman ; 
 wearing off, by little and little, all the vicious habits 
 and practices that he had been used to in the course 
 of his peregrinations : nay, it is said, that he has since
 
 SIR ROGER AND THE GIPSIES. 29 
 
 been employed in foreign courts upon national busi- 
 ness, with great reputation to himself, and honour to 
 those Avho sent him, and that he has visited several 
 countries as a public minister, in which he formerly 
 wandered as a gipsy.
 
 ^tr 9IoQer in ^ofon. 
 
 I WAS this morning surprised with a great knocking 
 at the door, when my landlady's daughter came up to 
 me and told me there was a man below desired to 
 speak with me. Upon my asking her who it was, she 
 told me it was a very grave elderly person, but that 
 she did not know his name. I immediately went 
 down to him, and found him to be the coachman of 
 my worthy friend Sir Roger de Coverley. He told 
 me that his master came to town last night, and would 
 be glad to take a turn with me in Grays-Inn walks. 
 As I was wondering in myself what had brought Sir 
 Roger to town, not having lately received any letter 
 from him, he told me that his master was come up to 
 get a sight of Prince Eugene, and that he desired 
 I would immediately meet him. 
 
 I was not a little pleased with the curiosity of the 
 old knight, though I did not much wonder at it, 
 having heard him say more than once in private 
 discourse, that he looked upon Prince Eugenio (for so 
 the knight always calls him) to be a greater man than 
 Scanderbeg. 
 
 I was no sooner come into Grays-Inn walks, but I 
 heard my friend upon the terrace hemming twice or 
 thrice to himself with great vigour, for he loves to 
 clear his pipes in good air (to make use of his own 
 phrase), and is not a little pleased with any one who
 
 SIR ROGER IN TOWN. 3T 
 
 takes notice of the strength which he still exerts in his 
 morning hems. 
 
 I was touched with a secret joy at the sight of the 
 good old man, who before he saw me was engaged in 
 conversation with a beggar-man that had asked an 
 alms of him. I could hear my friend chide him for 
 not finding out some work ; but at the same time saw 
 him put his hand in his pocket and give him six- 
 pence. 
 
 Our salutations were very hearty on both sides, 
 consisting of many kind shakes of the hand, and 
 several affectionate looks which we cast upon one 
 another. After which the knight told me my good 
 friend his chaplain was very well, and much at my 
 service, and that the Sunday before he had made a 
 most incomparable sermon out of Doctor Barrow. 
 ' I have left,' says he, ' all my affairs in his hands, and 
 being willing to lay an obligation upon him, have 
 deposited with him thirty marks, to be distributed 
 among his poor parishioners.' 
 
 He then proceeded to acquaint me with the welfare 
 of Will Wimble. Upon which he put his hand into 
 his fob, and presented me in his name with a tobacco 
 stopper, telling me that Will, had been busy all the 
 beginning of the winter in turning great quantities of 
 them ; and that he made a present of one to every 
 gentleman in the country who has good principles, 
 and smokes. He added, that poor Will, was at 
 present under great tribulation, for that Tom Touchy 
 had taken the law of him for cutting some hazel sticks 
 out of one of his hedges. 
 
 Among other pieces of news which the knight 
 brought from his country seat, he informed me that
 
 32 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEV. 
 
 Moll White was dead ; and that about a month after 
 her death the wind was so very high that it blew 
 down the end of one of his barns. ' But for my part,' 
 says Sir Roger, ' I do not think that the old woman 
 had any hand in it.' 
 
 He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions 
 which had passed in his house during the holidays, 
 for Sir Roger, after the laudable custom of his 
 ancestors, always keeps open house at Christmas. 
 I learned from him, that he had killed eight fat hogs 
 for this season, that he had dealt about his chines 
 very liberally amongst his neighbours, and that in 
 particular he had sent a string of hog's puddings with 
 a pack of cards to every poor family in the parish. 
 * I have often thought,' says Sir Roger, * it happens 
 very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle 
 of the winter. It is the most dead, uncomfortable 
 time of the year, when the poor people would suffer 
 very much from their poverty and cold, if they had 
 not good cheer, wami fires, and Christmas gambols to 
 support them. I love to rejoice their poor hearts at 
 this season, and to see the whole village merry in my 
 great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my 
 small beer, and set it a running for twelve days to 
 every one that calls for it. I have always a piece of 
 cold beef and a mince-pie upon the table, and am 
 wonderfully pleased to see my tenants pass away a 
 whole evening in playing their innocent tricks, and 
 smutting one another. Our friend Will. Wimble is as 
 merry as any of them, and shows a thousand roguish 
 tricks upon these occasions.' 
 
 I was very much delighted with the reflection of my 
 old friend, which carried so much goodness in it. He
 
 SIR ROGER IN TOWN. 33 
 
 then launched out into the praise of the late act of 
 parliament for securing the Church of England, and 
 told me with great satisfaction, that he believed it 
 already began to take effect ; for that a rigid dis- 
 senter, who chanced to dine at his house on Christmas 
 day, had been observed to eat very plentifully of his 
 plum-porridge. 
 
 After having despatched all our country matters, 
 Sir Roger made several inquiries concerning the club, 
 and particularly of his old antagonist Sir Andrew 
 Freeport. He asked me, with a kind of smile, whether 
 Sir Andrew had not taken the advantage of his ab- 
 sence, to vent among them some of his republican 
 doctrines ; but soon after gathering up his coun- 
 tenance into a more than ordinary seriousness, ' Tell 
 me truly,' says he, 'don't you think Sir Andrew had a 
 
 hand in the pope's procession ' but without giving 
 
 me time to answer him, ' Well, well,' says he, ' I know 
 you are a wary man, and do not care to talk of public 
 matters.' 
 
 The knight then asked me, if I had seen Prince 
 Eugene ; and made me promise to get him a stand in 
 some convenient place where he might have a full 
 sight of that extraordinary man, whose presence does 
 so much honour to the British nation. He dwelt very 
 long on the praises of this great general, and I found 
 that since I was with him in the country, he had 
 drawn many observations together out of his reading 
 in Baker's Chronicle, and other authors, who always 
 lie in his hall window, which very much redound to 
 the honour of this prince. 
 
 Having passed away the greatest part of the morn- 
 ing in hearing the knight's reflections, which were 
 D
 
 34 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 partly private and partly political, he asked me if I 
 would smoke a pipe with him over a dish of coffee at 
 Squire's. As I love the old man, I take a delight in 
 complying with everything that is agreeable to him, 
 and accordingly waited on him to the coffee-house, 
 where his venerable figure drew upon us the eyes of 
 the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself 
 at the upper end of the high table, but he called for 
 a clean pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of coffee, a 
 wax candle, and the Supplement, with such an air of 
 cheerfulness and good humour, that all the boys in 
 the coffee-room (who seemed to take pleasure in 
 serving him) were at once employed on his several 
 errands, insomuch that nobody else could come at a 
 dish of tea, till the knight had got all his conveniences 
 about him.
 
 ^ix illoger in S(9estminstcr ^bbcy. 
 
 My friend Sir Roger de Coverley told me the other 
 night, that he had been reading my paper upon West- 
 minster Abbey, in which, says he, there are a great 
 many ingenious fancies. He told me at the same 
 time, that he observed I had promised another paper 
 upon the tombs, and that he should be glad to go and 
 see them with me, not having visited them since he 
 had read history. I could not at first imagine how 
 this came into the knight's head, till I recollected that 
 he had been very busy all last summer upon Baker's 
 Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his 
 dispute with Sir Andrew Freeport, since his last coming 
 to town. Accordingly I called upon him the next 
 morning, that we might go together to the Abbey. 
 
 I found the knight under his butler's hands, who 
 always shaves him. He was no sooner dressed, than 
 he called for a glass of the widow Trueby's water, 
 which he told me he always drank before he went 
 abroad. He recommended to me a dram of it at the 
 same time, with so much heartiness, that I could not 
 forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got it down, I 
 found it very unpalatable ; upon which the knight ob- 
 serving that I had made several wry faces, told me 
 that he knew I should not like it at first, but that it 
 was the best thing in the world against the stone or 
 gravel. 
 
 D 2
 
 36 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 I could have wished, indeed, that he had acquainted 
 me with the virtues of it sooner ; but it was too late to 
 complain, and I knew what he had done was out of 
 good-will. Sir Roger told me further, that he looked 
 upon it to be very good for a man whilst he staid in 
 town, to keep off infection, and that he got together a 
 quantity of it upon the first news of the sickness being 
 at Dantzic : when of a sudden turning short to one of 
 his servants, who stood behind him, he bid him call 
 a hackney coach, and take care it was an elderly man 
 that drove it. 
 
 He then resumed his discourse upon Mrs. Trueby's 
 water, telling me that the widow Trueby was one who 
 did more good than all the doctors and apothecaries 
 in the county : that she distilled every poppy that 
 grew within five miles of her, that she distributed her 
 water gratis among all sorts of people ; to which the 
 knight added that she had a very great jointure, and 
 that the whole country would fain have it a match be- 
 tween him and her ; ' and truly,' says Sir Roger, ' if 
 I had not been engaged, perhaps I could not have 
 done better.' 
 
 His discourse was broken off by his man's telling 
 him he had called a coach. Upon our going to it, 
 after having cast his eye upon the wheels, he asked 
 the coachman if his axlctree was good ; upon the 
 fellow's telling him he would warrant it, the knight 
 turned to me, told me he looked like an honest man, 
 and went in without further ceremony. 
 
 We had not gone far, when Sir Roger, popping out 
 his head, called the coachman down from his box, and 
 upon his presenting himself at the window, asked him 
 if he smoked ; as I was considering what this would
 
 SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. yi 
 
 end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good tobac- 
 conist's, and take in a roll of their best Virginia. 
 Nothing material happened in the remaining part of 
 our journey, till we were set down at the west end 
 of the Abbey. 
 
 As we went up the body of the church the knight 
 pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monu- 
 ments, and cried out, 'A brave man I warrant him !' 
 Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudsly Shovel, he flung 
 his hand that way, and cried, ' Sir Cloudsly Shovel ! 
 a very gallant man !' As we stood before Busby's 
 tomb, the knight uttered himself again after the same 
 manner, ' Dr. Busby, a great man ! he whipped my 
 grandfather ; a very great man ! I should have gone 
 to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead ; a very 
 great man ! ' 
 
 We were immediately conducted into the little 
 chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger planting him- 
 self at our historian's elbow, was very attentive to 
 everything he said, particularly to the account he 
 gave us of the lord who had cut off the king of 
 Morocco's head. Among several other figures, he 
 was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil upon 
 his knees ; and, concluding them all to be great men, 
 was conducted to the figure which represents that 
 martyr to good housewifery, who died by the prick of 
 a needle. Upon our interpreter's telling us, that she 
 was a maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth, the knight 
 was very inquisitive into her name and family ; and 
 after having regarded her finger for some time, ' I 
 wonder, (says he,) that Sir Richard Baker has said 
 nothing of her in his Chronicle.' 
 
 We were then conveyed to the two coronation-
 
 j8 SIR ROGER DE COVEREEY. 
 
 chairs, where my old friend, after having heard that 
 the stone underneath the most ancient of them, which 
 was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's Pillow, 
 sat himself down in the chair ; and looking like the 
 figure of an old Gothic king, asked our interpreter, 
 what authority they had to say that Jacob had ever 
 been in Scotland ? The fellow, instead of returning 
 him an answer, told him, that he hoped his Honour 
 would pay his forfeit. I could observe Sir Roger a 
 little ruffled upon being thus trepanned ; but our guide 
 not insisting upon his demand, the knight soon re- 
 covered his good humour, and whispered in my ear, 
 that if Will. Wimble were with us, and saw those two 
 chairs, it would go hard but he would get a tobacco- 
 stopper out of one or t' other of them. 
 
 Sir Roger, in the next place, laid his hand upon 
 Edward the Third's sword, and leaning upon the 
 pummel of it, gave us the whole history of the Black 
 Prince ; concluding, that in Sir Richard Baker's opi- 
 nion, Edward the Third was one of the greatest princes 
 that ever sat upon the English throne. 
 
 We were then shown Edward the Confessor's tomb ; 
 upon which Sir Roger acquainted us, that he was the 
 first that touched for the Evil ; and afterwards Henry 
 the Fourth's, upon which he shook his head, and told 
 us, there was fine reading of the casualties of that 
 reign. 
 
 Our conductor then pointed to that monument where 
 there is the figure of one of our English kings without 
 an head ; and upon giving us to know, that the head, 
 which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away 
 several years since: 'Some Whig, I'll warrant you, 
 (says Sir Roger ;) you ought to lock up your kings
 
 SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 39 
 
 better ; they will carry off the body too, if you do not 
 take care.' 
 
 The glorious names of Henry the Fifth and Queen 
 Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of shining, 
 and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as our 
 knight observed with some surprise, had a great many 
 kings in him, whose monuments he had not seen in 
 the Abbey. 
 
 For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see 
 the knight show such an honest passion for the glory 
 of his country, and such a respectful gratitude to the 
 memory of its princes. 
 
 I must not omit, that the benevolence of my good 
 old friend, which flows out towards every one he con- 
 verses with, made him very kind to our interpreter, 
 whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man ; for 
 which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, 
 telling him, that he should be very glad to see him at 
 his lodgings in Norfolk-buildings, and talk over these 
 matters with him more at leisure.
 
 My friend Sir Roger de Covcrley, when we last met 
 together at the club, told me, that he had a great 
 mind to see the new tragedy with me, assuring me at 
 the same time, that he had not been at a play these 
 twenty years. The last I saw, said Sir Roger, was 
 the Committee, which I should not have gone to 
 neither, had not I been told before-hand that it was 
 a good Church of England comedy. He then pro- 
 ceeded to inquire of me who this Distressed Mother 
 was ; and upon hearing that she was Hector's widow, 
 he told me, that her husband was a brave man, and 
 that when he was a school-boy he had read his life 
 at the end of the dictionary. My friend asked me, 
 in the next place, if there would not be some danger 
 in coming home late, in case the Mohocks should be 
 abroad. ' I assure you, (says he,) I thought I had 
 fallen into their hands last night ; for I observed two 
 or three lusty black men that followed mc half way up 
 Fleet Street, and mended their pace behind me, in pro- 
 portion as I put on to go away from them. You must 
 know, (continued the knight with a smile,) I fancied 
 they had a mind to hunt me : for I remember an 
 honest gentleman in my neighbourhood, who was 
 served such a trick in King Charles the Second's time ; 
 for which reason he has not ventured himself in town 
 ever since. I might have shown them very good
 
 SIR ROGER AT THE PLAY. 4I 
 
 sport, had this been their design ; for as I am an old 
 fox-hunter, I should have turned and dodged, and 
 have played them a thousand tricks they had never 
 seen in their lives before.' Sir Roger added, that if 
 these gentlemen had any such intention, they did not 
 succeed very well in it ; 'for I threw them out, (says 
 he,) at the end of Norfolk Street, where I doubled the 
 corner, and got shelter in my lodgings before they 
 could imagine what was become of me. However, 
 (says the knight,) if Captain Sentiy will make one 
 with us to-morrow night, and if you will both of you 
 call on me about four o'clock, that we may be at the 
 house before it is full, I will have my own coach in 
 readiness to attend you, for John tells me he has got 
 the fore-wheels mended.' 
 
 The captain, who did not fail to meet me there at 
 the appointed hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for 
 that he had put on the same sword which he had 
 made use of at the battle of Steenkirk. Sir Roger's 
 servants, and among the rest my old friend the butler, 
 had, I found, provided themselves with good oaken 
 plants, to attend their master upon this occasion. 
 When we had placed him in his coach, with myself 
 at his left hand, the captain before him, and his butler 
 at the head of his footmen in the rear, we convoyed 
 him in safety to the play-house ; where, after having 
 marched up the entry in good order, the captain and 
 I went in with him, and seated him betwixt us in the 
 pit. As soon as the house was full, and the candles 
 lighted, my old friend stood up and looked about him 
 with that pleasure, which a mind seasoned with 
 humanity naturally feels in itself, at the sight of a 
 multitude of people who seemed pleased with one
 
 42 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 another, and partake of the same common entertain- 
 ment. I could not but fancy to myself, as the old man 
 stood up in the middle of the pit, that he made a very 
 proper centre to a tragic audience. Upon the entering 
 of Pyrrhus, the knight told me, that he did not believe 
 the King of France himself had a better strut. I was, 
 indeed, very attentive to my old friend's remarks, 
 because I looked upon them as a piece of natural 
 criticism, and was well pleased to hear him at the 
 conclusion of almost every scene, telling me that he 
 could not imagine how the play would end. One 
 while he appeared much concerned about Adromache ; 
 and a little while after as much for Hermione : and 
 was extremely puzzled to think what would become of 
 Pyrrhus. 
 
 When Sir Roger saw Adromache's obstinate refusal 
 to her lover's importunities, he whispered me in the 
 ear, that he was sure she would never have him ; to 
 which he added, with a more than ordinary vehemence, 
 you cannot imagine, sir, what it is to have to do with 
 a widow. Upon Pyrrhus his threatening afterwards 
 to leave her, the knight shook his head, and muttered 
 to himself, Ay, do if you can. This part dwelt so 
 much upon my friend's imagination, that at the close 
 of the third act, as I was thinking of something else, 
 he whispered in my ear, ' These widows, sir, are the 
 most perverse creatures in the world. But pray, (says 
 he), you that are a critic, is this play according to 
 your dramatic rules, as you call them ? Should your 
 people in tragedy always talk to be understood ? Why, 
 there is not a single sentence in this play that I do 
 not know the meaning of.' 
 
 The fourth act very luckily begun before I had time
 
 SIR ROGER AT THE PLAY. 43 
 
 to give the old gentleman an answer ; * Well, (says 
 the knight, sitting down with great satisfaction,) I sup- 
 we are now to see Hector's ghost.' He then renewed 
 his attention, and, from time to time fell a praising the 
 widow. He made, indeed, a little mistake as to one 
 of her pages, whom, at his first entering, he took for 
 Astyanax ; but he quickly set himself right in that 
 particular, though, at the same time, he owned he 
 should have been very glad to have seen the little boy, 
 'who,' says he, 'must needs be a very fine child by 
 the account that is given of him.' Upon Hermione's 
 going off with a menace to Pyrrhus, the audience 
 gave a loud clap ; to which Sir Roger added, ' On my 
 word, a notable young baggage ! ' 
 
 As there was a very remarkable silence and stillness 
 in the audience during the whole action, it was natural 
 for them to take the opportunity of the intervals 
 between the acts, to express their opinion of the 
 players, and of their respective parts. Sir Roger 
 hearing a cluster of them praise Orestes, struck in 
 with them, and told them, that he thought his friend 
 Pylades was a very sensible man ; as they were after- 
 wards applauding Pyrrhus, Sir Roger put in a second 
 time, 'And let me tell you, (says he,) though he speaks 
 but little, I like the old fellow in whiskers as well as 
 any of them.' Captain Sentry, seeing two or three 
 wags who sat near us, lean with an attentive ear 
 towards Sir Roger, and fearing lest they should smoke 
 the knight, plucked him by the elbow, and whispered 
 something in his ear, that lasted till the opening of 
 the fifth act. The knight was wonderfully attentive 
 to the account which Orestes gives of Pyrrhus his 
 death, and at the conclusion of it, told me it was such
 
 4A SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 a bloody piece of work, that lie was glad it was not 
 done upon the stage. Seeing afterwards Orestes in 
 his raving fit, he grew more than ordinary serious, and 
 took occasion to .moralize (in his way) upon an evil 
 conscience, adding, that * Orestes, in his madness, 
 looked as if he saw something.' 
 
 As we were the first that came into the house, so 
 we were the last that went out of it ; being resolved 
 to have a clear passage for our old friend, whom we 
 did not care to venture among the justling of the 
 crowd. Sir Roger went out fully satisfied with his 
 entertainment, and we guarded him to his lodgings in 
 the same manner that we brought him to the play- 
 house ; being highly pleased, for my own part, not 
 only with the performance of the excellent piece which 
 had been presented, but with the satisfaction which it 
 had given to the good old man.
 
 ^ir moger at Fauxfiall. 
 
 As I was sitting in my chamber, and thinking on a 
 subject for my next Spectator, I heard two or three 
 irregular bounces at my landlady's door, and upon the 
 opening of it, a loud cheerful voice inquiring whether 
 the philosopher was at home. The child who went to 
 the door answered very innocently, that he did not 
 lodge there. I immediately recollected that it was 
 my good friend Sir Roger's voice ; and that I had 
 promised to go with him on the water to Spring- 
 Garden, in case it proved a good evening. The 
 knight put me in mind of my promise from the stair- 
 case, but told me that if I was speculating, he would 
 stay below till I had done. Upon my coming down, 
 I found all the children of the family got about my 
 old friend, and my landlady herself, who is a notable 
 prating gossip, engaged in a conference with him ; 
 being mightily pleased with his stroking her little boy 
 upon the head, and bidding him be a good child, and 
 mind his book. 
 
 We were no sooner come to the Temple-stairs, but 
 we were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offer- 
 ing their respective services. Sir Roger, after having 
 looked about him very attentively, spied one with a 
 wooden leg, and immediately gave him orders to get 
 his boat ready. As we were walking towards it, ' You 
 must know (says Sir Roger), I never make use of
 
 46 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 anybody to row me that has not either lost a leg or 
 an arm. I would rather bate him a few strokes of his 
 oar, than not employ an honest man that has been 
 wounded in the Queen's service. If I was a lord or a 
 bishop, and kept a barge, I would not put a fellow in 
 my livery that had not a wooden leg.' 
 
 My old friend, after having seated himself, and 
 trimmed the boat with his coachman, who, being a 
 very sober man, always serves for ballast on these 
 occasions, we made the best of our way for Fox-halL 
 Sir Roger obliged the waterman to give us the history 
 of his right leg, and hearing that he had left it at La 
 Hogue, with many particulars which passed in that 
 glorious action, the knight in the triumph of his heart 
 made several reflections on the greatness of the 
 British nation ; as, that one Englishman could beat 
 three Frenchmen ; that we could never be in danger 
 of Popery so long as we took care of our fleet ; that 
 the Thames was the noblest river in Europe ; that 
 London bridge was a greater piece of work than any 
 other of the seven wonders of the world ; with many 
 other honest prejudices which naturally cleave to the 
 heart of a true Englishman. 
 
 After some short pause, the old knight, turning 
 about his head twice or thrice to take a survey of this 
 great metropolis, bid me observe how thick the city 
 was set with churches, and that thei-e was scarce a 
 single steeple on this side Temple-bar. ' A most 
 heathenish sight ! (says Sir Roger) : There is no re- 
 ligion at this end of the town. The fifty new churches 
 will very much mend the prospect ; but church-work 
 is slow, church-work is slow ! ' 
 
 I do not remember I have anywhere mentioned in
 
 SIR ROGER AT VAUXHALL, 47 
 
 Sir Roger's character, his custom of sakiting every- 
 body that passes by him with a good-morrow or a 
 good-night. This the old man does out of the over- 
 flowings of humanity, though at the same time it 
 renders him so popular among all his country neigh- 
 bours, that it is thought to have gone a good way in 
 making him once or twice knight of the shire. He 
 cannot forbear this exercise of benevolence even in 
 town, when he meets with any one in his morning or 
 evening walk. It broke from him to several boats 
 that passed by us upon the water ; but to the knight's 
 great surprise, as he gave the good-night to two or 
 three young fellows a little before our landing, one of 
 them, instead of returning the civility, asked us what 
 queer old put we had in the boat, and whether he was 
 not ashamed to go a wenching at his years ? with a 
 great deal of the like Thames ribaldry. Sir Roger 
 seemed a little shocked at first, but at length assum- 
 ing a face of magistracy, told us, ' that if he were a 
 Middlesex justice, he would make such vagrants know 
 that her Majesty's subjects were no more to be abused 
 by water than by land.' 
 
 We were now arrived at Spring-Garden, which is 
 exquisitely pleasant at this time of year. When I 
 considered the fragrancy of the walks and bowers, 
 with the choirs of birds that sung upon the trees, 
 and the loose tribe of people that walked under their 
 shades, I could not but look upon the place as a kind 
 of Mahometan paradise. Sir Roger told me it put 
 him in mind of a httle coppice by his house in the 
 countr)', which his chaplain used to call an aviary of 
 nightingales. ' You must understand (says the knight), 
 there is nothing in the world that pleases a man in
 
 43 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 love SO much as your nightingale. Ah, Mr. Spec- 
 tator ! the many moonlight nights that I have 
 walked by myself, and thought on the widow by the 
 music of the nightingale ! ' He here fetched a deep 
 sigh, and was falling into a fit of musing, when a 
 mask, who came behind him, gave him a gentle tap 
 upon the shoulder, and asked him if he would drink 
 a bottle of mead with her.? But the knight being 
 startled at so unexpected a familiarity, and displeased 
 to be interrupted in his thoughts of the widow, told 
 her, ' She was a wanton baggage,' and bid her go 
 about her business. 
 
 We concluded our walk with a glass of Burton ale, 
 and a slice of hung-beef. When we had done eating 
 ourselves, the knight called a waiter to him, and bid 
 him carry the remainder to a waterman that had but 
 one leg. I perceived the fellow stared upon him at 
 the oddness of the message, and was going to be 
 saucy ; upon which I ratified the knight's commands 
 with a peremptory look. 
 
 As we were going out of the garden my old friend, 
 thinking himself obliged, as a member of the Quorum, 
 to animadvert upon the morals of the place, told the 
 mistress of the house, who sat at the bar, ' that he 
 should be a better customer to her garden, if there 
 were more nightingales and fewer strumpets.'
 
 Bcati) of ^ir taogcr. 
 
 We last night received a piece of ill news at our 
 club, which very sensibly afflicted every one of us. 
 I question not but my readers themselves will be 
 troubled at the hearing of it. To keep them no longer 
 in suspense, Sir Roger de Coverley is dead. He 
 departed this life at his house in the country, after a 
 few weeks' sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a letter 
 from one of his correspondents in those parts, that 
 informs him the old man caught a cold at the country 
 sessions, as he was very warmly promoting an address 
 of his own penning, in which he succeeded according 
 to his wishes. But this particular comes from a Whig 
 justice of peace, who was always Sir Roger's enemy 
 and antagonist. I have letters both from the chaplain 
 and Captain Sentry, which mention nothing of it, but 
 are filled with many particulars to the honour of the 
 good old man. I have likewise a letter from the 
 butler, who took so much care of me last summer 
 when I was at the knight's house. As my friend the 
 butler mentions, in the simplicity of his heart, several 
 circumstances the others have passed over in silence, 
 I shall give my reader a copy of his letter, without any 
 alteration or diminution. 
 
 'Honoured Sir, 
 
 Knowing that you was my old master's good 
 friend, I could not forbear sending you the melancholy 
 E
 
 50 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 news of his death, which has afflicted the whole 
 country, as well as his poor servants, who loved him, 
 I may say, better than we did our lives. I am afraid 
 he caught his death the last country sessions, where 
 he would go to see justice done to a poor widow 
 woman, and her fatherless children, that had been 
 wronged by a neighbouring gentleman ; for you know, 
 my good master was always the poor man's friend. 
 Upon his coming home, the first complaint he made 
 was, that he had lost his roast-beef stomach, not being 
 able to touch a sirloin, which was served up according 
 to custom : and you know he used to take great 
 delight in it. From that time forward he grew worse 
 and worse, but still kept a good heart to the last. 
 Indeed we were once in great hopes of his recovery, 
 upon a kind message that was sent him from the 
 widow lady whom he had made love to the forty last 
 years of his life ; but this only proved a lightning 
 before his death. He has bequeathed to this lady, as 
 a token of his love, a great pearl necklace, and a 
 couple of silver bracelets set with jewels, which be- 
 longed to my good old lady his mother : he has 
 bequeathed the fine white gelding, that he used to 
 ride a hunting upon, to his chaplain, because he 
 thought he would be kind to him, and has left you all 
 his books. He has, moreover, bequeathed to the 
 chaplain a very pretty tenement with good lands 
 about it. It being a very cold day when he made his 
 will, he left for mourning, to every man in the parish, 
 a great frieze coat, and to every woman a black riding- 
 hood. It was a most moving sight to see him take 
 leave of his poor servants, commending us all for our 
 fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a word for 
 weeping. As we most of us are grown grey-headed 
 in our dear master's service, he has left us pensions 
 and legacies which we may live very comfortably upon 
 the remaining part of our days. He has bequeathed 
 a great deal more in charily, which is not yet come to 
 my knowledge, and it is peremptorily said in the parish, 
 that he has left money to build a steeple to the 
 church : for he was heard to say some time ago, that
 
 DEATH OF SIR ROGER. $1 
 
 if he lived two years longer, Coverley church should 
 have a steeple to it. The chaplain tells everybody 
 that he made a veiy good end, and never speaks of 
 him without tears. He was buried, according to his 
 own directions, among the family of the Coverlies, on 
 the left hand of his father Sir Arthur. The cofifm was 
 carried by six of his tenants, and the pall held up by 
 six of the quorum ; the whole parish followed the 
 corpse with heavy hearts, and in their mourning 
 suits ; the men in frieze, and the women in riding- 
 hoods. Captain Sentry, my master's nephew, has taken 
 possession of the hall-house, and the whole estate. 
 When my old master saw him, a little before his 
 death, he shook him by the hand, and wished him 
 joy of the estate which was falling to him, desiring 
 him only to make a good use of it, and to pay the 
 several legacies, and the gifts of charity, which he told 
 him he had left as quit-rents upon the estate. The 
 captain truly seems a courteous man, though says but 
 little. He makes much of those whom my master 
 loved, and shows great kindness to the old house-dog, 
 that you know my poor master was so fond of It 
 would have gone to your heart to have heard the 
 moans the dumb creature made on the day of my 
 master's death. He has never joyed himself since ; 
 no more has any of us. It was the melancholiest day 
 for the poor people that ever happened in Worcester- 
 shire. This being all from. 
 
 Honoured sir, your most sorrowful servant, 
 Edward Biscuit.' 
 
 *P. S. My master desired, some weeks before he 
 died, that a book which comes up to you by the 
 carrier, should be given to Sir Andrew Freeport in his 
 name.' 
 
 This letter, notwithstanding the poor butler's manner 
 of writing it, gave us such an idea of our good old 
 friend, that, upon the reading of it, there was not a 
 E 2
 
 52 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 
 
 dry eye in the club. Sir Andrew opening the book, 
 found it to be a collection of acts of parliament. There 
 was, in particular, the act of uniformity, with some 
 passages in it marked by Sir Roger's own hand. Sir 
 Andrew found that they related to two or three points, 
 which he had disputed with Sir Roger the last time 
 he appeared at the club. Sir Andrew, who would have 
 been merry at such an incident on another occasion, 
 at the sight of the old man's handwriting, burst into 
 tears, and put the book into his pocket. Captain 
 Sentry informs me, that the knight has left rings and 
 mourning for every one in the club.
 
 THE TATLER'S COURT.
 
 ^ri'al of ibt IBtati in Mcason. 
 
 As soon as I had placed myself in the chair of judica- 
 ture, I ordered my clerk Mr. Lillie to read to the assembly 
 (who were gathered together according to notice) a 
 certain declaration, by way of charge, to open the 
 pui-pose of my session, which tended only to this ex- 
 planation, ' That as other courts were often called to 
 demand the execution of persons dead in law, so this 
 was held to give the last orders relating to those who 
 are dead in reason.' The solicitor of the new company 
 of upholders, near the Hay-market, appeared in behalf 
 of that useful society, and brought in an accusation of 
 a young woman, who herself stood at the bar before 
 me. Mr. Lillie read her indictment, which was in 
 substance, 'That whereas Mrs. Rebecca Pindust, of 
 the parish of St. Martin in the Fields, had, by the use 
 of one instrument called a looking-glass, and by the 
 further use of certain attire, made either of cambric, 
 muslin, or other linen wares, upon her head, attained 
 to such an evil heart and magical force in the motion 
 of her eyes and turn of her countenance, that she, the 
 said Rebecca, had put to death several young men of 
 the said parish ; and that the said young men had 
 acknowledged in certain papers, commonly called love- 
 letters, (which were produced in court gilded on the 
 edges, and sealed with a particular wax, with certain 
 amorous and enchanting words wrought upon the
 
 56 THE tatler's court. 
 
 said seals,) that they died for the said Rebecca : and 
 whereas the said Rebecca persisted in the said evil 
 practice ; this way of life the said society construed 
 to be, according to former edicts, a state of death, 
 and demanded an order for the interment of the said 
 Rebecca.' 
 
 I looked upon the maid with great humanity, and 
 desired her to make answer to what was said against 
 her. She said, 'it was indeed true, that she had 
 practised all the arts and means she could to dispose 
 of herself happily in marriage, but thought she did 
 not come under the censure expressed in my writings 
 for the same ; and humbly hoped I would not 
 condemn her for the ignorance of her accusers, who, 
 according to their own words, had rather represented 
 her killing, than dead.' She further alleged, *That 
 the expressions mentioned in the papers written to 
 her, were become mere words, and that she had been 
 always ready to marry any of those who said they 
 died for her ; but that they made their escape as soon 
 as they found themselves pitied or believed.' She 
 ended her discourse, by desiring I would, for the 
 future, settle the meaning of the words, ' I die,' in 
 letters of love. 
 
 Mrs. Pindust behaved herself with such an air of 
 innocence, that she easily gained credit, and was 
 acquitted. Upon which occasion, I gave it as a stand- 
 ing rule, ' That any persons, who in any letter, billet, 
 or discourse, should tell a woman he died for her, 
 should, if she pleased, be obliged to live with her, or 
 be immediately interred upon such their own con- 
 fession, without bail or mainprize.' 
 
 It happened, that the very next who was brought
 
 TRIAL OF THE DEAD IN REASON. $7 
 
 before me was one of her admirers, who was indicted 
 upon that very head. A letter, which he acknowledged 
 to be his own hand, was read ; in which were the 
 following words ; * Cruel creature, I die for you.' It 
 was observable, that he took snuff all the time his 
 accusation was reading. I asked him, 'How he came 
 to use these words, if he were not a dead man ? ' 
 He told me, ' He was in love with a lady, and did not 
 know any other way of telling her so ; and that all his 
 acquaintance took the same method.' Though I was 
 moved with compassion towards him, by reason of the 
 weakness of his parts, yet, for example's sake, I was 
 forced to answer, ' Your sentence shall be a warning 
 to all the rest of your companions, not to tell lies for 
 want of wit.' Upon this, he began to beat his snuff- 
 box with a very saucy air ; and opening it again, 
 * Faith Isaac, (said he,) thou art a very unaccountable 
 old fellow. — Prythee, who gave thee power of life and 
 death ? What a pox hast thou to do with ladies and 
 lovers? I suppose thou wouldst have a man be in 
 company with his mistress, and say nothing to her. 
 Dost thou call breaking a jest, telling a lie ? Ha ! is 
 that thy wisdom, old Stiffrump, ha?' He was going 
 on with this insipid common-place mirth, sometimes 
 opening his box, sometimes shutting it, then viewing 
 the picture on the Hd, and then the workmanship of the 
 hinge, when, in the midst of his eloquence, I ordered 
 his box to be taken from him ; upon which he was 
 immediately struck speechless, and carried off stone 
 dead. 
 
 The next who appeared, was a hale old fellow of 
 sixty. He was brought in by his relations, who desired 
 leave to bury him. Upon requiring a distinct account
 
 58 THE TATLER'S COURT. 
 
 of the prisoner, a credible witness deposed, 'That he 
 always rose at ten of the clock, played with his cat 
 till twelve, smoked tobacco till one, was at dinner till 
 two, then took another pipe, played at backgammon 
 till six, talked of one Madam Frances, an old mistress 
 of his, till eight, repeated the same account at the 
 tavern till ten, then returned home, took the other 
 pipe, and then to bed.' I asked him, what he had to 
 say for himself? 'As to what (said he) they mention 
 concerning Madam Frances — ' I did not care for 
 hearing a Canterbury tale, and therefore thought 
 myself seasonably interrupted by a young gentleman 
 who appeared in behalf of the old man, and prayed an 
 arrest of judgment ; for that he the said young man 
 held certain lands by his the said old man's life. Upon 
 this, the solicitor of the upholders took an occasion 
 to demand him also, and thereupon produced several 
 evidences that witnessed to his life and conversation. 
 It appeared, that each of them divided their hours in 
 matters of equal moment and importance to them- 
 selves and to the public. They rose at the same hour : 
 while the old man was playing with his cat, the young 
 one was looking out of his window ; while the old man 
 was smoking his pipe, the young man was rubbing 
 his teeth ; while one was at dinner, the other was 
 dressing ; while one was at backgammon, the other 
 was at dinner ; while the old fellow was talking of 
 Madam Frances, the young one was either at play, or 
 toasting women whom he never conversed with. The 
 only difference was, that the young man had never 
 been good for anything ; the old man, a man of worth 
 before he knew Madam Frances. Upon the whole, 
 I ordered them to be both interred together, with in-
 
 TRIAL OF THE DEAD IN REASON. 59 
 
 scriptions proper to their cliaracters, signifying, * That 
 the old man died in the year 1689, and was buried in 
 the year 1709.' And over the young one it was said, 
 'That he departed this world in twenty-fifth year of 
 his death.' 
 
 The next class of criminals were authors in prose 
 and verse. Those of them who had produced any 
 still-born work, were immediately dismissed to their 
 burial, and were followed by others, who, notwith- 
 standing some sprightly issue in their life-time, had 
 given proofs of their death, by some posthumous 
 children, that bore no resemblance to their elder 
 brethren. As for those who were the fathers of a 
 mixed progeny, provided always they could prove the 
 last to be a live child, they escaped with life, but not 
 without loss of limbs ; for in this case, I was satisfied 
 with amputation of the parts which were mortified. 
 
 These were followed by a great crowd of super- 
 annuated benchers of the inns of court, senior fellows 
 of colleges, and defunct statesmen ; all whom I ordered 
 to be decimated indifferently, allowing the rest a 
 reprieve for one year, with a promise of a free pardon 
 in case of resuscitation. 
 
 There were still great multitudes to be examined ; 
 but finding it very late, I adjourned the court ; not 
 without the secret pleasure that I had done my duty, 
 and furnished out an handsome execution.
 
 '^Tri'al of tfit pttitoat. 
 
 The court being prepared for proceeding on the 
 cause of the petticoat, I gave orders to bring in a 
 criminal who was taken up as she went out of the 
 puppet-show about three nights ago, and was now 
 standing in the street with a great concourse of 
 people about her. Word was brought me, that she 
 had endeavoured twice or thrice to come in, but could 
 not do it by reason of her petticoat, which was too 
 large for the entrance of my house, though I had 
 ordered both the folding-doors to be thrown open 
 for its reception. Upon this, I desired the jury of 
 matrons, who stood at my right hand, to inform them- 
 selves of her condition, and know whether there were 
 any private reasons why she might not make her 
 appearance separate from her petticoat. This was 
 managed with great discretion, and had such an 
 effect, that upon the return of the verdict from the 
 bench of matrons, I issued out an order forthwith, 
 that the criminal should be stripped of her encum- 
 brances, till she became little enough to enter my 
 house. I had before given directions for an engine of 
 several legs, that could contract or open itself like the 
 top of an umbrella, in order to place the petticoat 
 upon it, by which means I might take a leisurely 
 survey of it, as it should appear in its proper dimen- 
 sions. This was all done accordingly ; and forthwith,
 
 TRIAL OF THE PETTICOAT. 6 1 
 
 upon the closing of the engine, the petticoat was 
 brought into court. I then directed the machine to 
 be set upon the table, and dilated in such a manner, 
 as to show the garment in its utmost circumference ; 
 but my great hall was too narrow for the experiment ; 
 for before it was half unfolded, it described so immo- 
 derate a circle, that the lower part of it brushed upon 
 my face as I sat in my chair of judicature. I then 
 inquired for the person that belonged to the petticoat ; 
 and, to my great surprise, was directed to a very 
 beautiful young damsel, with so pretty a face and 
 shape, that I bid her come out of the crowd, and 
 seated her upon a little crock at my left hand. ' My 
 pretty maid, (said I,) do you own yourself to have been 
 the inhabitant of the garment before us?' The girl 
 I found had good sense, and told me with a smile, 
 ' That notwithstanding it was her own petticoat, she 
 should be very glad to see an example made of it ; 
 and that she wore it for no other reason, but that she 
 had a mind to look as big and burly as other persons 
 of her quality : that she had kept out of it as long as 
 she could, and till she began to appear little in the 
 eyes of all her acquaintance ; that if she laid it aside, 
 people would think she was not made like other 
 women.' I always give great allowances to the fair 
 sex upon account of the fashion, and therefore was 
 not displeased with the defence of the pretty criminal. 
 I then ordered the vest which stood before us to be 
 drawn up by a pulley to the top of my great hall, 
 and afterwards to be spread open by the engine it 
 was placed upon, in such a manner, that it formed a 
 very splendid and ample canopy over our heads, and 
 covered the whole court of judicature with a kind of
 
 62 THE TATLER'S COURT. 
 
 silken rotunda, in its form not unlike the cupola of 
 St. Paul's. I entered upon the whole cause with 
 great satisfaction, as I sat under the shadow of it. 
 
 The counsel for the petticoat was now called in, 
 and ordered to produce what they had to say against 
 the popular cry which was raised against it. They 
 answered the objections with great strength and 
 solidity of argument, and expatiated in very florid 
 harangues, which they did not fail to set off and 
 furbelow (if I may be allowed the metaphor) with 
 many periodical sentences and turns of oratory. The 
 chief arguments for their client were taken, first, from 
 the great benefit that might arise to our woollen 
 manufactory from this invention, which was calculated 
 as follows : the common petticoat has not above four 
 yards in the circumference ; whereas this over our 
 heads had more in the semi-diameter : so that by 
 allowing it twenty-four yards in the circumference, the 
 five millions of woollen petticoats, which, according to 
 Sir William Petty, (supposing what ought to be sup- 
 posed in a well-governed state, that all petticoats are 
 made of that stuff,) would amount to thirty millions 
 of those of the ancient mode. A prodigious improve- 
 ment of the woollen trade ! and what could not fail to 
 sink the power of France in a few years. 
 
 To introduce the second argument, they begged 
 leave to read a petition of the rope-makers, wherein 
 it was represented, that the demand for cords, and 
 the price of them, were much risen since this fashion 
 came up. At this, all the company who were present 
 lifted up their eyes into the vault ; and I must con- 
 fess, we did discover many traces of cordage which 
 were interwoven in the stiffening of the drapery.
 
 TRIAL OF THE PETTICOAT. 62, 
 
 A third argument was founded upon a petition of 
 the Greenland trade, which Hkewise represented the 
 great consumption of whalebone which would be 
 occasioned by the present fashion, and the benefit 
 which would thereby accrue to that branch of the 
 British trade. 
 
 To conclude, they gently touched upon the weight 
 and unwieldiness of the garment, which they in- 
 sinuated might be of great use to preserve the honour 
 of families. 
 
 These arguments would have wrought very much 
 upon me, (as I then told the company in a long and 
 elaborate discourse,) had I not considered the great 
 and additional expense which such fashions would 
 bring upon fathers and husbands ; and therefore by 
 no means to be thought of till some years after a 
 peace. I further urged, that it would be a prejudice 
 to the ladies themselves, who could never expect to 
 have any money in the pocket, if they laid out so 
 much on the petticoat. To this I added, the great 
 temptation it might give to virgins, of acting in secu- 
 rity like married women, and by that means give a 
 check to matrimony, an institution always encouraged 
 by wise societies. 
 
 At the same time, in answer to the several petitions 
 produced on that side, I showed one subscribed by 
 the women of several persons of quality, humbly 
 setting forth, that since the introduction of this mode, 
 their respective ladies had (instead of bestowing on 
 them their cast gowns) cut them into shreds, and 
 mixed them with the cordage and buckram, to com- 
 plete the stiffening of their under-petticoats. For 
 which, and sundry other reasons, I pronounced the
 
 64 THE tatler's court. 
 
 petticoat a forfeiture : but to show that I did not 
 make that judgment for the sake of filthy lucre, I 
 ordered it to be folded up, and sent it as a present to 
 a widow gentlewoman, who has five daughters, de- 
 siring she would make each of them a petticoat out of 
 it, and send me back the remainder, which I design 
 to cut into stomachers, caps, facings "of my waistcoat 
 sleeves, and other garnitures suitable to my age and 
 quality. 
 
 I would not be understood, that (while I discard 
 this monstrous invention) I am an enemy to the 
 proper ornaments of the fair sex. On the contrary, as 
 the hand of nature has poured on them such a pro- 
 fusion of charms and graces, and sent them into the 
 world more amiable and finished than the rest of her 
 works ; so I would have them bestow upon themselves 
 all the additional beauties that art can supply them 
 with, provided it does not interfere with, disguise, or 
 pervert, those of nature. 
 
 I consider woman as a beautiful romantic animal, 
 that may be adorned with furs and feathers, pearls 
 and diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its 
 skin at her feet to make her a tippet ; the peacock, 
 parrot, and swan shall pay contributions to her muff; 
 the sea shall be searched for shells, and the rocks for 
 gems ; and every part of nature furnish out its share 
 towards the embellishment of a creature that is the 
 most consummate work of it. All this I shall indulge 
 them in ; but as for the petticoat I have been speaking 
 of, I neither can nor will allow it.
 
 "^Trial of tDe ^2ame»bre{ocrs. 
 
 There is in this city a certain fraternity of chymical 
 operators, who work under ground in holes, caverns, 
 and dark retirements, to conceal their mysteries from 
 the eyes and observation of mankind. These sub- 
 terraneous philosophers are daily employed in the 
 transmigration of liquors, and, by the power of medical 
 drugs and incantations, raising under the streets of 
 London the choicest products of the hills and valleys 
 of France. They can squeeze Bordeaux out of a sloe, 
 and draw Champagne from an apple. Virgil, in that 
 remarkable prophecy, 
 
 Incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus Uva, 
 •The ripening grape shall hang on every thorn,' 
 
 seems to have hinted at this art, which can turn a 
 plantation of northern hedges into a vineyard. These 
 adepts are known among one another by the name of 
 wine-brewers, and I am afraid do great injury, not 
 only to her Majesty's customs, but to the bodies of 
 many of her good subjects. 
 
 Having received sundry complaints against these 
 invisible workmen, I ordered the proper officer of 
 my court to ferret them out of their respective caves, 
 and bring them before me, which was yesterday 
 executed accordingly. 
 
 The person who appeared against them was a mer- 
 chant, who had by him a great magazine of wines that 
 
 F
 
 66 THE tatler's court. 
 
 he had laid in before the war : but these gentlemen 
 (as he said) had so vitiated the nation's palate, that no 
 man could believe his to be French, because it did not 
 taste like what they sold for such. As a man never 
 pleads better than where his own personal interest is 
 concerned, he exhibited to the court with great elo- 
 quence, That this new corporation of druggists had 
 inflamed the bills of mortality, and puzzled the college 
 of physicians with diseases, for which they neither 
 knew a name or cure. He accused some of giving all 
 their customers cholics and megrims ; and mentioned 
 one who had boasted, he had a tun of claret by him, 
 that in a fortnight's time should give the gout to a 
 dozen of the healthfullest men in the city, provided 
 that their constitutions were prepared for it by wealth 
 and idleness. He then enlarged, with a great show of 
 reason, upon the prejudice which these mixtures and 
 compositions had done to the brains of the English 
 nation ; as is too visible (said he) from many late 
 pamphlets, speeches, and sermons, as well as from the 
 ordinary conversations of the youth of this age. He 
 then quoted an ingenious person, who would under- 
 take to know by a man's writings, the wine he most 
 delighted in ; and on that occasion named a certain 
 satirist, whom he had discovered to be the author of a 
 lampoon, by a manifest taste of the sloe, which showed 
 itself in it by much roughness and little spirit. 
 
 In the last place, he ascribed to the unnatural 
 tumults and fermentations, which these mixtures raise 
 in our blood, the divisions, heats, and animosities that 
 reign among us ; and in particular, asserted most of 
 the modern enthusiasms and agitations to be nothing 
 else but the effects of adulterated port.
 
 TRIAL OF THE WINE-BREWERS. 67 
 
 The counsel for the brewers had a face so extremely 
 inflamed and illuminated with carbuncles, that I did 
 not wonder to see him an advocate for these sophis- 
 tications. His rhetoric was likewise such as I should 
 have expected from the common draught, which I 
 found he often drank to a great excess. Indeed, I 
 was so surprised at his figure and parts, that I ordered 
 him to give me a taste of his usual liquor ; which I 
 had no sooner drank, but I found a pimple rising in 
 my forehead ; and felt such a sensible decay in my 
 understanding, that I would not proceed in the trial 
 till the fume of it was entirely dissipated. 
 
 This notable advocate had little to say in the defence 
 of his clients, but that they were under a necessity of 
 making claret if they would keep open their doors, it 
 being the nature of mankind to love everything that is 
 prohibited. He further pretended to reason, that it 
 might be as profitable to the nation to make French 
 wine as French hats, and concluded with the great 
 advantage that this had already brought to part of 
 the kingdom. Upon which he informed the court, 
 'That the lands in Herefordshire were raised two 
 years' purchase since the beginning of the war.' 
 
 When I had sent out my summons to these people, 
 I gave at the same time orders to each of them to 
 bring the several ingredients he made use of in dis- 
 tinct phials, which they had done accordingly, and 
 ranged them into two rows on each side of the court. 
 The workmen were drawn up in ranks behind them. 
 The merchant informed me, that in one row of phials 
 were the several colours they dealt in, and in the other 
 the tastes. He then showed me on the right hand one 
 who went by the name of Tom Tintoret, who (as he 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE TATLER'S COURT. 
 
 told me) was the greatest master in his colouring of 
 any vintner in London. To give me a proof of his 
 art, he took a glass of fair water ; and by the infusion 
 of three drops out of one of his phials, converted it 
 into a most beautiful pale Burgundy. Two more of 
 the same kind heightened it into a perfect Languedoc : 
 from thence it passed into a florid Hermitage : and 
 after having gone through two or three other changes, 
 by the addition of a single drop, ended in a very deep 
 Pontac. This ingenious virtuoso, seeing me very much 
 surprised at his art, told me, That he had not an oppor- 
 tunity of showing it in perfection, having only made 
 use of water for the ground-work of his colouring ; 
 but that if I were to see an operation upon liquors of 
 stronger bodies, the art would appear to much greater 
 advantage. He added, ' That he doubted not but it 
 would please my curiosity to see the cider of one 
 apple take only a vermilion, when another, with a 
 less quantity of the same infusion, would rise into 
 a dark purple, according to the different texture of 
 parts in the liquor.' He informed me also, 'That he 
 could hit the different shades and degrees of red, as 
 they appear in the pink and the rose, the clove and 
 the carnation, as he had Rhenish or Moselle, Perry or 
 White Port, to work in.' 
 
 I was so satisfied with the ingenuity of this virtuoso, 
 that, after having advised him to quit so dishonest a 
 profession, I promised him, in consideration of his 
 great genius, to recommend him as a partner to a 
 friend of mine, who has heaped up great riches, and 
 is a scarlet dyer. 
 
 The artists on my other hand were ordered in the 
 second place to make some experiments of their skill
 
 TRIAL OF THE WINE-BREWERS. 69 
 
 before me : upon which the famous Harry Sippet 
 stept out, and asked me, ' What I would be pleased 
 to drink?' At the same time he filled out three or 
 four white liquors in a glass, and told me, ' That it 
 should be what I pleased to call for;' adding very 
 learnedly, 'That the liquor before him was as the 
 naked substance or first matter of his compound, to 
 which he and his friend, who stood over against him, 
 could give what accidents or form they pleased.' 
 Finding him so great a philosopher, I desired he 
 would convey into it the qualities and essence of 
 right Bourdeaux. 'Coming, coming, sir,' (said he,) 
 with the air of a drawer ; and after having cast his 
 eye on the several tastes and flavours that stood 
 before him, he took up a little cruet that was filled 
 with a kind of inky juice, and pouring some of it out 
 into the glass of white wine, presented it to me, and 
 told me, ' This was the wine over which most of the 
 business of the last term had been despatched.' I 
 must confess, I looked upon that sooty drug which he 
 held up in his cruet, as the quintessence of English 
 Bourdeaux, and therefore desired him to give me a 
 glass of it by itself, which he did with great unwilling- 
 ness. My cat at that time sat by me, upon the elbow 
 of my chair ; and as I did not care for making the 
 experiment upon myself, I reached it to her to sip of 
 it, which had like to have cost her her life ; for not- 
 withstanding it flung her at first into freakish tricks, 
 quite contrary to her usual gravity, in less than a 
 quarter of an hour she fell into convulsions ; and had 
 it not been a creature more tenacious of life than any 
 other, would certainly have died under the operation. 
 I was so incensed by the tortures of my innocent
 
 70 THE TATLER'S COURT. 
 
 domestic, and the unworthy dealings of these men, 
 that I told them, if each of them had as many lives as 
 the injured creature before them, they deserved to for- 
 feit them for the pernicious arts which they used for 
 their profit. I therefore bid them look upon them- 
 selves as no better than a kind of assassins and mur- 
 derers within the law. However, since they had dealt 
 so clearly with me, and laid before me their whole 
 practice, I dismissed them for that time ; with a par- 
 ticular request, That they would not poison any of my 
 friends and acquaintance, and take to some honest 
 livelihood without loss of time. 
 
 For my own part, I have resolved hereafter to be 
 very careful in my liquors, and have agreed with a 
 friend of mine in the army, upon their next march, to 
 secure me two hogsheads of the best stomach-wine in 
 the cellars of Versailles, for the good of my lucubra- 
 tions, and the comfort of my old age.
 
 STATESWOiNIEN.
 
 ^arty ^altljcs. 
 
 About the middle of last winter I went to see an 
 opera at the theatre in the Haymarket, where I could 
 not but take notice of two parties of very fine women, 
 that had placed themselves in the opposite side 
 boxes, and seemed drawn up in a kind of battle-array 
 one against another. After a short survey of them, I 
 found they were patched differently ; the faces, on 
 one hand, being spotted on the right side of the fore- 
 head, and those upon the other on the left : I quickly 
 perceived that they cast hostile glances upon one 
 another ; and that their patches were placed in those 
 different situations, as party-signals to distinguish 
 friends from foes. In the middle boxes, between 
 these two opposite bodies, were several ladies who 
 patched indifferently on both sides of their faces, and 
 seemed to sit there with no other intention but to see 
 the opera. Upon inquiry I found, that the body of 
 Amazons on my right hand were Whigs, and those 
 on my left, Tories ; and that those who had placed 
 themselves in the middle boxes were a neutral party, 
 whose faces had not yet declared themselves. These 
 last, however, as I afterwards found, diminished daily, 
 and took their party with one side or the other ; 
 insomuch that I observed in several of them, the 
 patches, which were before dispersed equally, are 
 now all gone over to the Whig or the Tory side of
 
 74 STATESWOMEX. 
 
 the face. The censorious say, that the men whose 
 hearts are aimed at, are very often the occasions that 
 one part of the face is thus dishonoured, and lies 
 under a kind of disgrace, while the other is so much 
 set off and adorned by the owner ; and that the 
 patches turn to the right or to the left, according to 
 the principles of the man who is most in favour. But 
 whatever may be the motives of a few fantastical 
 coquettes, who do not patch for the public good so 
 much as for their own private advantage, it is certain, 
 that there are several women of honour who patch 
 out of pi'inciple, and with an eye to the interest of 
 their country. Nay, I am informed that some of them 
 adhere so stedfastly to their party, and are so far 
 from sacrificing their zeal for the public to their pas- 
 sions for any particular person, that in a late draught 
 of marriage-articles a lady has stipulated with her 
 husband, that whatever his opinions are, she shall be 
 at liberty to patch on which side she pleases. 
 
 I must here take notice, that Rosalinda, a famous 
 Whig partisan, has most unfortunately a very beautiful 
 mole on the Tory part of her forehead ; which being 
 very conspicuous, has occasioned many mistakes, and 
 given an handle to her enemies to misrepresent her 
 face, as though it had revolted from the Whig in- 
 terest. But, whatever this natural patch may seem 
 to insinuate, it is well known that her notions of 
 government are still the same. This unlucky mole, 
 however, has misled several coxcombs ; and like the 
 hanging out of false colours, made some of them con- 
 verse with Rosalinda in what they thought the spirit 
 of her party, when on a sudden she has given them 
 an unexpected fire, that has sunk them all at once.
 
 PARTY PATCHES. ^S 
 
 If Rosalinda is unfortunate in her mole, Nigranilla is 
 as unhappy in a pimple, which forces her, against her 
 inclinations, to patch on the Whig side. 
 
 I am told that many virtuous matrons, who for- 
 merly have been taught to believe that this artificial 
 spotting of the face was unlawful, are now reconciled 
 by a zeal for their cause, to what they could not be 
 prompted by a concern for their beauty. This way 
 of declaring war upon one another, puts me in mind 
 of what is reported of the tigress, that several spots 
 rise in her skin when she is angry; or, as Mr. Cowley 
 has imitated the verses that stand as the motto of 
 this paper, 
 
 — She swells with angry pride. 
 And calls forth all her spots on every side. 
 
 When I was in the theatre the time above-men- 
 tioned, I had the curiosity to count the patches on 
 both sides, and found the Tory patches to be about 
 twenty stronger than the Whig ; but to make amends 
 for this small inequality, I the next morning found the 
 whole puppet-show filled with faces spotted after the 
 Whiggish manner. Whether or no the ladies had 
 retreated hither in order to rally their forces, I cannot 
 tell ; but the next night they came in so great a body 
 to the opera, that they outnumbered the enemy. 
 
 This account of party-patches will, I am afraid, 
 appear improbable to those who live at a distance 
 from the fashionable world ; but as it is a distinction 
 of a very singular nature, and what perhaps may 
 never meet with a parallel, I think I should not have 
 discharged the office of a faithful Spectator, had I not 
 recorded it. 
 
 I have endeavoured to expose this party-rage in
 
 76 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 women, as it only serves to aggravate the hatred and 
 animosities that reign among men, and in a great 
 measure deprives the fair sex of those pecuhar charms 
 with which nature has endowed them. 
 
 When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and 
 just upon the point of giving battle, the women who 
 were allied to both of them, interposed with so many 
 tears and entreaties, that they prevented the mutual 
 slaughter which threatened both parties, and united 
 them together in a firm and lasting peace. 
 
 I would recommend this noble example to our 
 British ladies, at a time when their country is torn 
 with so many unnatural divisions, that if they con- 
 tinue, it will be a misfortune to be born in it. The 
 Greeks thought it so improper for women to interest 
 themselves in competitions and contentions, that for 
 this reason, among others, they forbad them, under 
 pain of death, to be present at the Olympic games, 
 notwithstanding these were the public diversions of 
 all Greece. 
 
 As our English women excel those of all nations in 
 beauty, they should endeavour to outshine them in all 
 other accomplishments proper to the sex, and to dis- 
 tinguish themselves as tender mothers and faithful 
 wives, rather than as furious partisans. Female vir- 
 tues are of a domestic turn. The family is the proper 
 province for private women to shine in. If they must 
 be showing their zeal for the public, let it not be 
 against those who are perhaps of the same family, or 
 at least of the same religion or nation, but against 
 those who are the open, professed, undoubted enemies 
 of their faith, liberty, and country. When the Romans 
 were pressed with a foreign enemy, the ladies volun-
 
 PARTY PATCHES. 77 
 
 larily contributed all their rings and jewels to assist 
 the government under the public exigence, which 
 appeared so laudable an action in the eyes of their 
 countrymen, that from thenceforth it was permitted 
 by a law to pronounce public orations at the funeral 
 of a woman in praise of the deceased person, which 
 till that time was peculiar to men. 
 
 Would our English ladies, instead of sticking on a 
 patch against those of their own country, show them- 
 selves so truly public-spirited as to sacrifice every one 
 her necklace against the common enemy, what de- 
 crees ought not to be made in favour of them ! 
 
 Since I am recollecting upon this subject such pas- 
 sages as occur to my memory out of ancient authors, 
 I cannot omit a sentence in the celebrated funeral 
 oration of Pericles, which he made in honour of those 
 brave Athenians that were slain in a fight with the 
 Lacedaemonians. After having addressed himself to 
 the several ranks and orders of his countrymen, and 
 shown them how they should behave themselves in 
 the public cause, he turns to the female part of his 
 audience ; ' And as for you, (says he,) I shall advise 
 you in very few words : aspire only to those virtues 
 that are peculiar to your sex ; follow your natural 
 modesty, and think it your greatest commendation 
 not to be talked of one way or other.'
 
 5:i2aomen anti Uibcrtjj. 
 
 It is with great satisfaction I observe, that the 
 women of our island, who are the most eminent for 
 virtue and good sense, are in the interest of the pre- 
 sent government. As the fair sex very much recom- 
 mend the cause they are engaged in, it would be no 
 small misfortune to a sovereign, though he had all the 
 male part of the nation on his side, if he did not find 
 himself king of the most beautiful half of his subjects. 
 Ladies are always of great use to the party they 
 espouse, and never fail to win over numbers to it. 
 Lovers, according to Sir William Petty's computation, 
 make at least the third part of the sensible men of the 
 British nation ; and it has been an uncontroverted 
 maxim in all ages, that, though a husband is some- 
 times a stubborn sort of a creature, a lover is always 
 at the devotion of his mistress. By this means, it lies 
 in the power of every fine woman, to secure at least 
 half a dozen able-bodied men to his Majesty's service. 
 The female world are, likewise, indispensably neces- 
 sary in the best causes, to manage the controversial 
 part of them, in which no man of tolerable breeding 
 is ever able to refute them. Arguments out of a 
 pretty mouth are unanswerable. 
 
 There are many reasons why the women of Great 
 Britain should be on the side of the Freeholder, and 
 enemies to the person who would bring in arbitrary
 
 WOMEN AND LIRERTY. 79 
 
 government and Popery. As there are several of oui 
 ladies who amuse themselves in the reading of travels, 
 they cannot but take notice, what uncomfortable lives 
 those of their own sex lead, where passive obedience 
 is professed and practised in its utmost perfection. 
 In those countries, the men have no property but in 
 their wives, who are the slaves to slaves : every 
 married woman being subject to a domestic tyrant, 
 that requires from her the same vassalage which he 
 pays to his sultan. If the ladies would seriously con- 
 sider the evil consequences of arbitrary power, they 
 would find, that it spoils the shape of the foot in 
 China, where the barbarous politics of the men so 
 diminish the basis of the female figure, as to unquahfy 
 a woman for an evening walk or country-dance. In 
 the East Indies, a widow, who has any regard to her 
 character, throws herself into the flames of her hus- 
 band's funeral pile, to show, forsooth, that she is 
 faithful and loyal to the memory of her deceased lord. 
 In Persia, the daughters of Eve, as they call them, 
 are reckoned in the inventory of their goods and 
 chattels : and it is a usual thing, when a man sells a 
 bale of silk or a drove of camels, to toss half a dozen 
 women into the bargain. Through all the dominions 
 of the Great Turk, a woman thinks herself happy, if 
 she can get but the twelfth share of a husband, and is 
 thought of no manner of use in the creation but to 
 keep up a proper number of slaves for the commander 
 of the faithful. I need not set forth the ill usage 
 which the fair ones meet with, in those despotic 
 governments that lie nearer us. Every one hath 
 heard of the several ways of locking up women in 
 Spain and Italy; where, if there is any power lodged
 
 8o STATESWOMEN. 
 
 in any of the sex, it is not among the young and the 
 beautiful, whom nature seems to have formed for it, 
 but among the old and withered matrons, known by 
 the frightful name of gouvernantes and duennas. If 
 any should allege the freedoms indulged to the 
 French ladies, he must own that these are owing to 
 the natural gallantry of the people, not to their form 
 of government, which excludes, by its very constitu- 
 tion, every female from power, as naturally unfit to 
 hold the sceptre of that kingdom. 
 
 Women ought, in reason, to be no less averse to 
 Popery than to arbitrary power. Some merry authors 
 have pretended to demonstrate, that the Roman 
 Catholic religion could never spread in a nation where 
 women would have more modesty than to expose 
 their innocent liberties to a confessor. Others of the 
 same turn have assured us, that the fine British 
 complexion, which is so peculiar to our ladies, would 
 suffer very much from a fish-diet : and that a whole 
 Lent would give such a sallowness to the celebrated 
 beauties of this island, as would scarce make them 
 distinguishable from those of France. I shall only 
 leave to the serious consideration of the country- 
 women, the danger any of them might have been 
 in, (had Popery been our natural religion,) of being 
 forced by their relations to a state of perpetual vir- 
 ginity. The most blooming toast in the island might 
 have been a nun ; and many a lady, who is now a 
 mother of fine children, condemned to a condition of 
 life, disagreeable to herself and unprofitable to the 
 world. To this I might add, the melancholy objects 
 they would be daily entertained with, of several 
 sightly men delivered over to an inviolable celibacy.
 
 WOMEN AND LIBERTY. 8 1 
 
 Let a young lady imagine to herself, the brisk em- 
 broidered officer, who now makes love to her with so 
 agreeable an air, converted into a monk ; or the beau, 
 who now addresses himself to her in a full-bottomed 
 wig, distinguished by a little bald pate covered with 
 a black leather skull-cap. I forbear to mention many 
 other objections, which the ladies, who are no strangers 
 to the doctrines of Popery, will easily recollect; though 
 I do not in the least doubt but those I have already 
 suggested, will be sufficient to persuade my fair read- 
 ers to be zealous in the Protestant cause. 
 
 The freedom and happiness of our British ladies is 
 so singular, that it is a common saying in foreign 
 countries, * If a bridge were built across the seas, all 
 the women in Europe would flock into England.' It 
 has been observed, that the laws relating to them are 
 so favourable, that one would think they themselves 
 had given votes in enacting them. All the honours 
 and indulgences of society are due to them by our 
 customs ; and, by our constitution, they have all the 
 privileges of English-born subjects, without the bur- 
 dens. I need not acquaint my fair fellow-freeholders, 
 that every man who is anxious for our sacred and 
 civil rights, is a champion in their cause ; since we 
 enjoy in common a religion agreeable to that reason- 
 able nature, of which we equally partake ; and since, 
 in point of property, our law makes no distinction of 
 sexes. 
 
 We may, therefore, justly expect from them, that 
 they will act in concert with us for the preservation of 
 our laws and religion, which cannot subsist, but under 
 the government of his present Majesty; and would 
 necessarily be subverted, under that of a person bred 
 G
 
 82 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 up in the most violent principles of Popery and 
 arbitrary power. Thus may the fair sex contribute to 
 fix the peace of a brave and generous people, who, 
 for many ages, have disdained to bear any tyranny 
 but theirs ; and be as famous in history, as those 
 illustrious matrons, who, in the infancy of Rome, 
 reconciled the Romans and the Sabines, and united 
 the two contending parties under their new king.
 
 Si)c Hatrfes' Association. 
 
 I HAVE heard that several ladies of distinction, upon 
 the reading of my former paper, are studying methods 
 how to make themselves useful to the public. One 
 has a design of keeping an open tea-table, where eveiy 
 man shall be welcome that is a friend to King George. 
 Another is for setting up an assembly for basset, where 
 none shall be admitted to punt that have not taken 
 the oaths. A third is upon an invention of a dress, 
 which will put every Tory lady out of countenance : 
 I am not informed of the particulars, but am told in 
 general, that she has contrived to show her principles 
 by the setting of her commode ; so that it will be 
 impossible for any woman, that is disaffected, to be in 
 the fashion. Some of them are of opinion that the 
 fan may be made use of, with good success, against 
 Popery, by exhibiting the corruptions of the Church 
 of Rome in various figures ; and that their abhorrence 
 of the superstitious use of beads, may be very aptly 
 expressed in the make of a pearl necklace. As for the 
 civil part of our constitution, it is unanimously agreed, 
 among the leaders of the sex, that there is no glory in 
 making a man their slave, who has not naturally a 
 passion for liberty ; and to disallow of all professions 
 of passive obedience, but from a lover to his mistress. 
 It happens very luckily fcr the interests of the 
 Whigs, that their very enemies acknowledge the finest 
 G 2
 
 84 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 women of Great Britain to be of that party. The 
 Tories are forced to borrow their toasts from their 
 antagonists ; and can scarce find beauties enough of 
 their own side, to supply a single round of October. 
 One may, indeed, sometimes discover among the 
 malignants of the sex a face that seems to have been 
 naturally designed for a Whig lady ; but then it is so 
 often flushed with rage, or soured with disappoint- 
 ments, that one cannot but be troubled to see it 
 thrown away upon the owner. Would the pretty 
 malecontent be persuaded to love her king and country, 
 it would diffuse a cheerfulness through all her features, 
 and give her quite another air. I would, therefore, 
 advise these my gentle readers, as they consult the 
 good of their faces, to forbear frowning upon loyalists, 
 and pouting at the government. In the mean time, 
 what may we not hope, from a cause which is 
 recommended by all the allurement of beauty and the 
 force of truth ! It is, therefore, to be hoped, that 
 every fine woman will make this laudable use of her 
 charms ; and that she may not want to be frequently 
 reminded of this great duty, I will only desire her 
 to think of her country every time she looks in her 
 glass. 
 
 But because it is impossible to prescribe such rules 
 as shall be suitable to the sex in general, I shall 
 consider them under their several divisions of maids, 
 wives, and widows. 
 
 As for virgins, who arc unexperienced in the wiles 
 of men, they would do well to consider, how little 
 they are to rely on the faith of lovers who, in less than 
 a year, have broken their allegiance to their lawful 
 sovereign ; and what credit is to be given to the vows
 
 THE LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 85 
 
 and protestations of such as show themselves so little 
 afraid of perjury. Besides, what would an innocent 
 young lady think, should she marry a man without 
 examining his principles, and afterwards find herself 
 got with child by a rebel ? 
 
 In the next place, every wife ought to answer for 
 her man. If the husband be engaged in a seditious 
 club, or drinks mysterious healths, or be frugal of his 
 candles on a rejoicing night, let her look to him, and 
 keep him out of harm's way ; or the world will be apt 
 to say, she has a mind to be a widow before her time. 
 She ought, in such cases, to exert the authority of the 
 curtain lecture ; and if she finds him of a rebellious 
 disposition, to tame him, as they do birds of prey, by 
 dinning him in the ears all night long. 
 
 Widows may be supposed women of too good sense 
 not to discountenance all practices that have a 
 tendency to the destruction of mankind. Besides, 
 they have a greater interest in property than either 
 maids or wives, and do not hold their jointures by the 
 precarious tenure of portions or pin-money. So that 
 it is as unnatural for a dowager, as a freeholder, to be 
 an enemy to our constitution. 
 
 As nothing is more instructive than examples, I 
 would recommend to the perusal of our British 
 virgins, the story of Clelia, a Roman spinster, whose 
 behaviour is represented by all their historians, as one 
 of the chief motives that discouraged the Tarquins 
 from prosecuting their attempt to regain the throne, 
 from whence they had been expelled. Let the married 
 women reflect upon the glor}' acquired by the wife of 
 Coriolanus, who, when her husband, after long exile, 
 was returning into his country with fire and sword,
 
 86 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 diverted him from so cruel and unnatural an enter- 
 prise. And let those who have outlived their hus- 
 bands, never forget their countrywoman Boadicea, 
 who headed her troops in person against the invasion 
 of a Roman army, and encouraged them with this 
 memorable saying, ' I, who am a woman, am resolved 
 upon victory or death : but as for you, who are men, 
 you may, if you please, choose life and slavery.' 
 
 But I do not propose to our British ladies, that they 
 should turn Amazons in the service of their sovereign, 
 nor so much as let their nails grow for the defence of 
 their country. The men will take the work of the 
 field off their hands, and show the world, that English 
 valour cannot be matched when it is animated by 
 English beauty. I do not, however, disapprove the 
 project which is now on foot for a ' Female Associa- 
 tion;' and since I hear the fair confederates cannot 
 agree among themselves upon a form, shall presume 
 to lay before them the following rough draft, to be 
 corrected or improved, as they in their wisdom shall 
 think fit. 
 
 *We, the consorts, relicts, and spinsters, of the isle 
 of Great Britain, whose names are under-written, 
 being most passionately offended at the falsehood and 
 perfidiousness of certain faithless men, and at the 
 lukewarmth and indifference of others, have entered 
 into a voluntary association for the good and safety 
 of our constitution. And we do hereby engage our- 
 selves to raise and arm our vassals for the service of 
 his Majesty King George, and him to defend, with our 
 tongues' and hearts, our eyes, eye-lashes, favourites, 
 lips, dimples, and every other feature, whether natural 
 or acquired. We promise publicly and openly to avow
 
 THE LADIES' ASSOCIATION. Bj 
 
 the loyalty of our principles in every word we shall 
 utter, and every patch we shall stick on. We do 
 further promise, to annoy the enemy with all the 
 flames, darts, and arrows, with which nature has 
 armed us ; never to correspond with them by sigh, 
 ogle, or billet-doux ; not to have any intercourse with 
 them, either in snuff or tea ; nor to accept the civility 
 of any man's hand, who is not ready to use it in the 
 defence of his country. We are determined, in so 
 good a cause, to endure the greatest hardships and 
 severities, if there should be occasion ; and even to 
 wear the manufacture of our country, rather than 
 appear the friends of a foreign interest in the richest 
 P>ench brocade. And forgetting all private feuds, 
 jealousies, and animosities, we do unanimously oblige 
 ourselves, by this our association, to stand and fall by 
 one another, as loyal and faithful sisters and fellow- 
 subjects.' 
 
 N.B. This association will be lodged at Mr, 
 Motteux's, where attendance will be given to the 
 subscribers, who are to be ranged in their-respective 
 columns, as maids, wives, and widows.
 
 i^ltciing of iljt Association. 
 
 By our latest advices, both from town and country, 
 it appears that the ladies of Great Britain, who are 
 able to bear arms, that is, to smile or frown to any 
 purpose, have already begun to commit hostilities 
 upon the men of each opposite party. To this end 
 we are assured, that many of them on both sides 
 exercise before their glasses every morning ; that they 
 have already cashiered several of their followers as 
 mutineers, who have contradicted them in some 
 political conversations ; and that the Whig ladies in 
 particular design very soon to have a general review of 
 their forces at a play bespoken by one of their leaders. 
 This set of ladies, indeed, as they daily do duty at 
 court, are much more expert in the use of their airs 
 and graces than their female antagonists, who are most 
 of them bred in the country ; so that the sisterhood 
 of loyalists, in respect of the fair malecontents, are like 
 an army of regular forces, compared with a raw, un- 
 disciplined militia. 
 
 It is to this misfortune in their education that we 
 may ascribe the rude and opprobrious language with 
 which the disaffected part of the sex treat the present 
 royal family. A little lively rustic, who hath been 
 trained up in ignorance and prejudice, will prattle 
 treason a whole winter's evening, and string together 
 a parcel of silly seditious stories, that are equally void
 
 MEETING OF THE ASSOCIATION. 89 
 
 of decency and truth. Nay, you sometimes meet 
 with a zealous matron, who sets up for the pattern of 
 a parish, uttering such invectives as are highly mis- 
 becoming her, both as a woman and a subject. In 
 answer, therefore, to such disloyal termagants, I shall 
 repeat to them a speech of the honest and blunt 
 Duke du Sully, to an assembly of Popish ladies, who 
 were railing very bitterly against Henry the Fourth, 
 at his accession to the French throne ; ' Ladies,' said 
 he, 'you have a very good king, if you know when 
 you are well. However, set your hearts at rest, for he 
 is not a man to be scolded or scratched out of his 
 kingdom.' 
 
 But as I never care to speak of the fair sex, unless 
 I have an occasion to praise them, I shall take my 
 leave of these ungentle damsels ; and only beg of them 
 not to make themselves less amiable than nature 
 designed them, by being rebels to the best of their 
 abilities, and endeavouring to bring their country into 
 bloodshed and confusion. Let me, therefore, re- 
 commend to them the example of those beautiful 
 associates, whom I mentioned in my former paper, as 
 I have received the particulars of their behaviour from 
 the person with whom I lodged their association. 
 
 This association being written at length in a large 
 roll of the finest vellum, with three distinct columns 
 for the maids, wives, and widows, was opened for the 
 subscribers near a fortnight ago. Never was a sub- 
 scription for a raffling or an opera more crowded. There 
 is scarce a celebrated beauty about town that you may 
 not find in one of the three lists ; insomuch, that if a 
 man, who did not know the design, should read only 
 the names of the subscribers, he would fancy every
 
 go STATESWOMEN. 
 
 column to be a catalogue of toasts. Mr. Motteux has 
 been heard to say more than once, that if he had the 
 portraits of all the associates, they would make a finer 
 auction of pictures than he or anybody else had 
 exhibited. 
 
 Several of these ladies, indeed, criticised upon the 
 form of the association. One of them, after the perusal 
 of it, wondered that among the features to be used in 
 defence of their country, there was no mention made 
 of teeth; upon which she smiled very charmingl)'', 
 and discovered as fine a set as ever eye beheld. 
 Another, who was a tall lovely prude, holding up her 
 head in a most majestic manner, said, with some 
 disdain, she thought a good neck might have done 
 his Majesty as much service as smiles or dimples. A 
 third looked upon the association as defective, because 
 so necessary a word as hands was omitted ; and by 
 her manner of taking up the pen, it was easy to guess 
 the reason of her objection. 
 
 Most of the persons who associated have done much 
 more than by the letter of the association they were 
 obliged to ; having not only set their names to it, but 
 subscribed their several aids and subsidies for the 
 carrying on so good a cause. In the virgin column is 
 one who subscribes fifteen lovers, all of them good men 
 and true. There is another who subscribes five 
 admirers, with one tall handsome black man, fit to 
 be a colonel. In short, there is scarce one in this list 
 who does not engage herself to supply a quota of 
 brisk young fellows, many of them already equipt 
 with hats and feathers. Among the rest, was a pretty 
 sprightly coquette, with sparkling eyes, who subscribed 
 two quivers of arrows.
 
 MEETING OF THE ASSOCIATION. 9I 
 
 In the column of wives, the first that took pen in 
 hand, writ her own name and one vassal, meaning her 
 husband. Another subscribes her husband and three 
 sons. Another, her husband and six coach-horses. 
 Most in this catalogue paired themselves with their 
 respective mates, answering for them as men of honest 
 principles, and fit for the service. 
 
 N. B. There were two in this column that wore 
 association ribbons ; the first of them subscribed her 
 husband, and her husband's friend ; the second a 
 husband and five lovers ; but upon inquiry into their 
 characters, they are both of them found to be Tories, 
 who hung out false colours to be spies upon the 
 association, or to insinuate to the world by their sub- 
 scriptions, as if a lady of Whig principles could love 
 any man besides her husband. 
 
 The widow's column is headed by a fine woman who 
 calls herself Boadicea, and subscribes six hundred 
 tenants. It was, indeed, observed that the strength of 
 the association lay most in this column ; every widow, 
 in proportion to her jointure, having a great number of 
 admirers, and most of them distinguished as able 
 men. Those who have examined this list, compute 
 that there may be three regiments raised out of it, 
 in which there shall not be one man under six foot 
 high. 
 
 I must not conclude this account without taking 
 notice of the association-ribbon, by which these beauti- 
 ful confederates have agi-eed to distinguish themselves. 
 It is, indeed, so very pretty an ornament, that I wonder 
 any Englishwoman will be without it. A lady of the 
 association who bears this badge of allegiance upon 
 her breast, naturally produces a desire in every male
 
 92 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 beholder, of gaining a place in a heart which carries 
 on it such a visible mark of its fidelity. When the 
 beauties of our island are thus industrious to show 
 their principles as well as their charms, they raise the 
 sentiments of their countrymen, and inspire them at 
 the same time both with loyalty and love. What 
 numbers of proselytes may we not expect, when the 
 most amiable of the Britons thus exhibit to their 
 admirers the only terms upon which they are to hope 
 for any correspondence or alliance with them ! It is 
 well known that the greatest blow the French nation 
 ever received, was the dropping of a fine lady's garter, 
 in the reign of King Edward the Third. The most 
 lemarkable battles which have been since gained over 
 that nation, were fought under the auspices of a blue 
 ribboru As our British ladies have still the same 
 faces, and our men the same hearts, why may we not 
 hope for the same glorious achievements from the 
 influence of this beautiful breast-knot?
 
 politics null tj^c jFan. 
 
 It is with great pleasure that I see a race of female 
 patriots springing up in this island. The fairest among 
 the daughters of Great Britain no longer confine their 
 cares to a domestic life, but are grown anxious for the 
 welfare of their country, and show themselves good 
 stateswomen as well as good housewives. 
 
 Our she-confederates keep pace with us in quashing 
 that rebellion which had begun to spread itself among 
 part of the fair sex. If the men who are true to their 
 king and country have taken Preston and Perth, the 
 ladies have possessed themselves of the opera and 
 the playhouse with as little opposition or bloodshed. 
 The non-resisting women, like their brothers in the 
 Highlands, think no post tenable against an army that 
 makes so fine an appearance ; and dare not look them 
 in the face, when they are drawn up in battle-array. 
 
 As an instance of this cheerfulness in our fair fellow- 
 subjects to oppose the designs of the Pretender, I did 
 but suggest in one of my former papers, *That the 
 fan might be made use of with good success against 
 Popery, by exhibiting the corruptions of the church of 
 Rome in various figures ;' when immediately they took 
 the hint, and have since had frequent consultations 
 upon several ways and methods ' to make the fan 
 useful' They have unanimously agreed upon the 
 following resolutions, which are indeed very suitable
 
 94 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 to ladies who are at the same time the most beautiful 
 and the most loyal of their sex. To hide their faces 
 behind the fan, when they observe a Tory gazing upon 
 them. Never to peep through it, but in order to pick 
 out men, whose principles make them worth the con- 
 quest. To return no other answer to a Tory's ad- 
 dresses, than by counting the sticks of it all the while 
 he is talking to them. To avoid dropping it in the 
 neighbourhood of a malecontent, that he may not 
 have an opportunity of taking it up. To show their 
 disbelief of any Jacobite story by a flirt of it. To fall 
 a fanning themselves when a Tory comes into one of 
 their assemblies, as being disordered at the sight of 
 him. 
 
 These are the uses by which every fan may in the 
 hands of a fine woman become serviceable to the 
 public. But they have at present under consideration, 
 certain fans of a Protestant make, that they may have 
 a more extensive influence, and raise an abhorrence of 
 Popery in a whole crowd of beholders : for they intend 
 to let the world see what party they are of, by figures 
 and designs upon these fans ; as the knights-errant 
 used to distinguish themselves by devices on their 
 shields. 
 
 There are several sketches of pictures which have 
 been already presented to the ladies for their appro- 
 bation, and out of which several have made their 
 choice. A pretty young lady will very soon appear 
 with a fan, which has on it a nunnery of lively black- 
 eyed vestals, who are endeavouring to creep out at the 
 grates. Another has a fan mounted with a fine paper, 
 on which is represented a group of people upon their 
 knees very devoutly worshipping an old ten-penny
 
 POLITICS AND THE FAN. 95 
 
 nail. A certain lady of great learning has chosen for 
 her device the council of Trent ; and another, who 
 has a good satirical turn, has filled her fan with the 
 figure of a huge tawdry woman, representing the 
 whore of Babylon ; which she is resolved to spread 
 full in the face of any sister-disputant, whose argu- 
 ments have a tendency to Popery. The following 
 designs are already executed on several mountings. 
 The ceremony of the holy pontiff opening the mouth 
 of a cardinal in a full consistory. An old gentleman 
 with a triple crov.-n upon his head, and big with child, 
 being the portrait of Pope Joan. Bishop Bonner pur- 
 chasing great quantities of faggots and brushwood, for 
 the conversion of heretics. A figure reaching at a 
 sceptre with one hand, and holding a chaplet of beads 
 in the other ; with a distant view of Smithfield. 
 
 When our ladies make their zeal thus visible upon 
 their fans, and every time they open them, display an 
 error of the church of Rome, it cannot but have a good 
 effect, by showing the enemies of our present esta- 
 blishment the folly of what they are contending for. 
 At least, every one must allow that fans are much 
 more innocent engines for propagating the Protestant 
 religion, than racks, wheels, gibbets, and the like ma- 
 chines, which are made use of for the advancement of 
 the Roman Catholic. Besides, as every lady will 
 of course study her fan, she will be a perfect mistress 
 of the controversy, at least in one point of Popery ; 
 and as her curiosity will put her upon the perusal of 
 every other fan that is fashionable, I doubt not but in 
 a very little time there will be scarce a woman of 
 quality in Great Britain, who would not be an over- 
 match for an Irish priest.
 
 96 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 The beautiful part of this island, whom I am proud 
 to number amongst the most candid of my readers, 
 will likewise do well to reflect, that our dispute at 
 present concerns our civil as well as religious rights. 
 I shall therefore only offer it to their thoughts as a 
 point that highly deserves their consideration, whether 
 the fan may not also be made use of with regard to 
 our political constitution. As a Freeholder, I would 
 not have them confine their cares for us as we are 
 Protestants, but at the same time have an eye to our 
 happiness as we are Britons. In this case they would 
 give a new turn to the minds of their countrymen, if 
 they would exhibit on their fans the several grievances 
 of a tyrannical government. Why might not an audi- 
 ence of Muley Ishmael, or a Turk dropping his hand- 
 kerchief in his seraglio, be proper subjects to express 
 their abhorrence both of despotic power, and of male 
 tyranny ? or if they have a fancy for burlesque, what 
 would they think of a French cobbler cutting shoes 
 for several of his fellow-subjects out of an old apple- 
 tree ? On the contrary, a fine woman, who would 
 maintain the dignity of her sex, might bear a string of 
 galley slaves, dragging their chains the whole breadth 
 of her fan ; and at the same time, to celebrate her own 
 triumphs, might order every slave to be drawn with 
 the face of one of her admirers. 
 
 I only propose these as hints to my gentle readers, 
 which they may alter or improve as they shall think 
 fit : but cannot conclude without congratulating our 
 country upon this disposition among the most amiable 
 of its inhabitants, to consider in their ornaments the 
 advantage of the public as well as of their persons. 
 It was ^vith the same spirit, though not with the same
 
 POLITICS AND THE FAN. 97 
 
 politeness, that the ancient British women had the 
 figures of monsters painted on their naked bodies, in 
 order (as our historians tells us) to make themselves 
 beautiful in the eyes of their countrymen, and terrible 
 to their enemies. If this project goes on, we may 
 boast, that our sister Whigs have the finest fans, as 
 well as the most beautiful faces, of any ladies in the 
 world. At least, we may venture to foretell, that the 
 figures in their fans will lessen the Tory interest, 
 much more than those in the Oxford Almanacs will 
 advance it.
 
 ^rettg IBfsaffcction. 
 
 When the Athenians had long contended against 
 the power of Philip, he demanded of them to give up 
 their orators, as well knowing their opposition would 
 be soon at an end if it were not irritated from time to 
 time by these tongue-warriors. I have endeavoured, 
 for the same reason, to gain our female adversaries, 
 and by that means to disarm the party of its principal 
 strength. Let them give us up their women, and we 
 know by experience how inconsiderable a resistance 
 we are to expect from their men. 
 
 This sharp political humour has but lately prevailed 
 in so great a measure as it now does among the beau- 
 tiful part of our species. They used to employ them- 
 selves wholly in the scenes of a domestic life, and 
 provided a woman could keep her house in order, she 
 never troubled herself about regulating the common- 
 wealth. The eye of the mistress was wont to make 
 her pewter shine, and to inspect every part of her 
 household furniture as much as her looking-glass. 
 But at present our discontented matrons are so con- 
 versant in matters of state, that they wholly neglect 
 their private affairs ; for we may always observe that 
 a gossip in politics is a slattern in her family. 
 
 It is indeed a melancholy thing to sec the disorders 
 of a household that is under the conduct of an angry 
 statcswoman, who lays out all her thoughts upon the
 
 PRETTY DISAFFECTION. 99 
 
 public, and is only attentive to find out miscarriages 
 in the ministry. Several women of this turn are so 
 earnest in contending for hereditary right, that they 
 wholly neglect the education of their sons and heirs ; 
 and are so taken up with their zeal for the church, 
 that they cannot find time to teach their children 
 their catechism. A lady who thus intrudes into the 
 province of the men, was so astonishing a character 
 among the old Romans, that when Amaesia pre- 
 sented herself to speak before the senate, they looked 
 upon it as a prodigy, and sent messengers to inquire 
 of the oracle, what it might portend to the common- 
 wealth ? 
 
 It would be manifestly to the disadvantage of the 
 British cause, should our pretty loyalists profess an 
 indifference in state affairs, while their disaffected 
 sisters are thus industrious to the prejudice of their 
 country ; and accordingly we have the satisfaction to 
 find our she-associates are not idle upon this occasion. 
 It is owing to the good principles of these his Majesty's 
 fair and faithful subjects, that our country-women 
 appear no less amiable in the eyes of the male world, 
 than they have done in former ages. For where a 
 great number of flowers grow, the ground at a dis- 
 tance seems entirely covered with them, and we must 
 walk into it, before we can distinguish the several 
 weeds that spring up in such a beautiful mass of 
 colours. Our great concern is, to find deformity can 
 arise among so many charms, and that the most 
 lovely parts of the creation can make themselves the 
 most disagreeable. But it is an observation of the 
 philosophers, that the best things may be corrupted 
 into the worst ; and the ancients did not scruple to 
 
 H2
 
 lOO STATESWOMEN. 
 
 affirm, that the Furies and the Graces were of the 
 same sex. 
 
 As I should do the nation and themselves good 
 service, if I could draw the ladies, who still hold out 
 against his Majesty, into the interest of our present 
 establishment, I shall propose to their serious con- 
 sideration, the several inconveniences which those 
 among them undergo, who have not yet surrendered 
 to the government. 
 
 They should first reflect on the great sufferings and 
 persecutions to which they expose themselves by the 
 obstinacy of their behaviour. They lose their elec- 
 tions in every club where they are set up for toasts. 
 They are obliged by their principles to stick a patch 
 on the most unbecoming side of their foreheads. They 
 forego the advantage of birth-day suits. They are 
 insulted by the loyalty of claps and hisses every time 
 they appear at a play. They receive no benefit from 
 the army, and are never the better for all the young 
 fellows that wear hats and feathers. They are forced 
 to live in the country and feed their chickens ; at the 
 same time that they might show themselves at court, 
 and appear in brocade, if they behaved themselves 
 well. In short, what must go to the heart of every 
 fine woman, they throw themselves quite out of the 
 fashion. 
 
 The above-mentioned motive must have an influence 
 upon the gay part of the sex ; and as for those who 
 are acted by more sublime and moral principles, they 
 should consider, that they cannot signalize themselves 
 as malecontents, without breaking through all the 
 amiable instincts and softer virtues, which are pecu- 
 liarly ornamental to womankind. Their timorous,
 
 PRETTY DISAFFECTION. lOI 
 
 gentle, modest behaviour ; their affability, meekness, 
 good-breeding, and many other beautiful dispositions 
 of mind, must be sacrificed to a blind and furious 
 zeal for they do not know what. A man is startled 
 when he sees a pretty bosom heaving with such party- 
 rage, as is disagreeable even in that sex, which is of a 
 more coarse and rugged make. And yet such is our 
 misfortune, that we sometimes see a pair of stays 
 ready to burst with sedition ; and hear the most mas- 
 culine passions exprest in the sweetest voices. I have 
 lately been told of a country-gentlewoman, pretty much 
 famed for this virility of behaviour in party-disputes, 
 who, upon venting her notions very freely in a strange 
 place, was carried before an honest justice of the 
 peace. This prudent magistrate observing her to be 
 a large black woman, and finding by her discourse 
 that she was no better than a rebel in a riding-hood, 
 began to suspect her for my Lord Nithisdale ; till a 
 stranger came to her rescue, who assured him, with 
 tears in his eyes, that he was her husband. 
 
 In the next place, our British ladies may consider, 
 that by interesting themselves so zealously in the 
 affairs of the public, they are engaged, without any 
 necessity, in the crimes which are often committed 
 even by the best of parties, and which they are natu- 
 rally exempted from by the privilege of their sex. 
 The worst character a female could formerly arrive at, 
 was of being an ill woman ; but by their present con- 
 duct, she may likewise deserve the character of an ill 
 subject. They come in for their share of political 
 guilt, and have found a way to make themselves 
 much greater criminals than their mothers before 
 them.
 
 102 STATESWOMEN. 
 
 I have great hopes that these motives, when they 
 are assisted by their own reflections, will incline the 
 fair ones of the adverse party to come over to the 
 national interest, in which their own is so highly con- 
 cerned ; especially if they consider, that by these 
 superfluous employments which they take upon them 
 as partisans, they do not only dip themselves in an 
 unnecessary guilt, but are obnoxious to a grief and 
 anguish of mind, which doth not properly fall within 
 their lot. And here I would advise every one of these 
 exasperated ladies, who indulge that opprobrious elo- 
 quence which is so much in fashion, to reflect on 
 yEsop's fable of the viper. 'This little animal, (says 
 the old moralist,) chancing to meet with a file, began 
 to lick it with her tongue till the blood came ; which 
 gave her a very silly satisfaction, as imagining the 
 blood came from the file, notwithstanding all the 
 smart was in her own tongue.'
 
 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN.
 
 There is no place in the town which I so much 
 love to frequent as the Royal Exchange. It gives me 
 a secret satisfaction, and, in some measure, gratifies 
 my vanity, as I am an Englishman, to see so rich an 
 assembly of countrymen and foreigners consulting 
 together upon the private business of mankind, and 
 making this metropolis a kind of emporium for the 
 whole earth. I must confess I look upon high-change 
 to be a great council, in which all considerable nations 
 have their representatives. Factors in the trading 
 world are what ambassadors are in the politic world ; 
 they negotiate affairs, conclude treaties, and maintain 
 a good correspondence between those wealthy societies 
 of men that are divided from one another by seas and 
 oceans, or live on the different extremities of a 
 continent. I have often been pleased to hear disputes 
 adjusted between an inhabitant of Japan and an 
 alderman of London, or to see a subject of the Great 
 Mogul entering into a league with one of the Czar of 
 IMuscovy. I am infinitely delighted in mixing with 
 these several ministers of commerce, as they are dis- 
 tinguished by their different walks and different 
 languages : sometimes I am justled among a body of 
 Armenians ; sometimes I am lost in a crowd of Jews ; 
 and sometimes make one in a group of Dutchmen. 
 I am a Dane, Swede, or Frenchman at different
 
 Io6 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 times ; or rather fancy myself like the old philosopher, 
 who upon being asked what countryman he was, 
 replied, that he was a citizen of the world. 
 
 Though I very frequently visit this busy multitude 
 of people, I am known to nobody there but my friend 
 Sir Andrew, who often smiles upon me as he sees me 
 bustling in the crowd, but at the same time connives 
 at my presence without taking any further notice of 
 me. There is indeed a merchant of Egypt, who just 
 knows me by sight, having formerly remitted me some 
 money to Grand Cairo ; but as I am not versed in 
 the modern Coptic, our conferences go no further than 
 a bow and a grimace. 
 
 This grand scene of business gives me an infinite 
 variety of solid and substantial entertainments. As 
 I am a great lover of mankind, my heart naturally 
 overflows with pleasure at the sight of a prosperous 
 and happy multitude, insomuch, that at many public 
 solemnities I cannot forbear expressing my joy with 
 tears that have stolen down my cheeks. For this 
 reason I am wonderfully delighted to see such a body 
 of men thriving in their own private fortunes, and at 
 the same time promoting the public stock ; or, in 
 other words, raising estates for their own families, by 
 bringing into their country whatever is wanting, and 
 carrying out of it whatever is superfluous. 
 
 Nature seems to have taken a peculiar care to 
 disseminate the blessings among the dificrent regions 
 of the world, with an eye to this mutual intercourse 
 and trafiic among mankind, that the natives of the 
 several parts of the globe might have a kind of 
 dependence upon one another, and be united together 
 by this common interest. Almost every degree pro-
 
 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. I07 
 
 duces something peculiar to it. The food often grows 
 in one country, and the sauce in another. The fruits of 
 Portugal are corrected by the products of Barbadoes ; 
 the infusion of a China plant sweetened with the pith 
 of an Indian cane. The Philippine Islands give a 
 flavour to our European bowls. The single dress of 
 a woman of quality is often the product of a hundred 
 climates. The muff and the fan come together from 
 the different ends of the earth. The scarf is sent from 
 the torrid zone, and the tippet from beneath the pole. 
 The brocade petticoat rises out of the mines of Peru, 
 and the diamond necklace out of the bowels of 
 Indostan. 
 
 If we consider our own country in its natural 
 prospect, without any of the benefits and advantages 
 of commerce, what a barren, uncomfortable spot of 
 earth falls to our share ! Natural historians tell us, 
 that no fruit grows originally among us besides hips 
 and haws, acorns and pig-nuts, with other delicacies 
 of the like nature ; that our climate of itself, and 
 without the assistance of art, can make no further 
 advances towards a plum than to a sloe, and carries 
 an apple to no greater a perfection than a crab : that 
 our melons, our peaches, our figs, our apricots, and 
 cherries, are strangers among us, imported in different 
 ages, and naturalized in our English gardens ; and 
 that they would all degenerate and fall away into the 
 trash of our own country, if they were wholly neglected 
 by the planter, and left to the mercy of our sun and 
 soil. Nor has traffic more enriched our vegetable 
 v.'orld, than it has improved the whole face of nature 
 among us. Our ships are laden with the hai-vest of 
 every climate : our tables are stored with spices, and
 
 lo8 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 oils, and wines ; our rooms are filled with pyramids 
 of China, and adorned with the workmanship of 
 Japan : our morning's draught comes to us from the 
 remotest corners of the earth ; we repair our bodies 
 by the drugs of America, and repose ourselves under 
 Indian canopies. My friend Sir Andrew calls the 
 vineyards of France our gardens ; the spice-islands 
 our hot-beds ; the Persians our silk-weavers, and the 
 Chinese our potters. Nature indeed furnishes us with 
 the bare necessaries of life, but traffic gives us a great 
 variety of what is useful, and at the same time supplies 
 us with everything that is convenient and ornamental. 
 Nor is it the least part of this our happiness, that 
 while we enjoy the remotest products of the north 
 and south, we are free from those extremities of 
 weather which give them birth ; that our eyes are 
 refreshed with the green fields of Britain, at the same 
 time that our palates are feasted with fruits that rise 
 between the tropics. 
 
 For these reasons there are not more useful members 
 in a commonwealth than merchants. They knit man- 
 kind together in a mutual intercourse of good offices, 
 distribute the gifts of nature, find work for the poor, 
 and wealth to the rich, and magnificence to the great. 
 Our English merchant converts the tin of his own 
 country into gold, and exchanges his wool for rubies. 
 The Mahometans arc clothed in our British manu- 
 facture, and the inhabitants of the frozen zone warmed 
 with the fleeces of our sheep. 
 
 When I have been upon the Change, I have often 
 fancied one of our old kings standing in person, where 
 he is represented in effigy, and looking down upon 
 the wealthy concourse of people with which that place
 
 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. I09 
 
 is every day filled. In this case, how would he be 
 surprised to hear all the languages of Europe spoken 
 in this little spot of .his former dominions, and to see 
 so many private men, who in his time would have 
 been the vassals of some powerful baron, negotiating 
 like princes for greater sums of money than were 
 formerly to be met with in the royal treasury ! Trade, 
 without enlarging the British teiTitories, has given us 
 a kind of additional empire : it has multiplied the 
 number of the rich, made our landed estates infinitely 
 more valuable than they were formerly, and added to 
 them an accession of other estates as valuable as the 
 lands themselves.
 
 ^laQC Hi'ons. 
 
 There is nothing that of late years has afforded 
 matter of greater amusement to the town than Signior 
 NicoHni's combat with a Hon in the Haymarket, which 
 has been very often exhibited to the general satis- 
 faction of most of the nobility and gentry in the king- 
 dom of Great Britain. Upon the first rumour of this 
 intended combat, it was confidently affirmed, and is 
 still believed by many in both galleries, that there 
 would be a tame lion sent from the Tower every 
 opera night, in order to be killed by Hydaspes ; this 
 report, though altogether groundless, so universally 
 prevailed in the upper regions of the playhouse, that 
 some of the most refined politicians in those parts of 
 the audience gave it out in whisper, that the lion was 
 a cousin-german of the tiger who made his appear- 
 ance in King William's days, and that the stage 
 would be supplied with lions at the public expense, 
 during the whole session. Many likewise were the 
 conjectures of the treatment which this lion was to 
 meet with from the hands of Signior Nicolini : some 
 supposed that he was to subdue him in rccitativo, as 
 Orpheus used to serve the wild beasts in his time, and 
 afterwards to knock him on the head ; some fancied 
 that the lion would not pretend to lay his paws upon 
 the hero, by reason of the received opinion, that a lion 
 will not hurt a virgin : several, who pretended to have
 
 STAGE LIONS. Ill 
 
 seen the opera in Italy, had informed their friends, 
 that the Hon was to act a part in High -Dutch, and 
 roar twice or thrice to a thorough-bass, before he fell 
 at the feet of Hydaspes. To clear up a matter that 
 was so variously reported, I have made it my business 
 to examine whether this pretended lion is really the 
 savage he appears to be, or only a counterfeit. 
 
 But before I communicate my discoveries, I must 
 acquaint the reader, that upon my walking behind the 
 scenes last winter, as I was thinking on something 
 else, I accidentally justled against a monstrous animal 
 that extremely startled me, and upon my nearer 
 survey of it, appeared to be a lion rampant. The lion 
 seeing me very much surprised, told me, in a gentle 
 voice, that I might come by him if I pleased : ' For,' 
 says he, ' I do not intend to hurt anybody.' I thanked 
 him very kindly, and passed by him. And in a httle 
 time after saw him leap upon the stage, and act his 
 part with very great applause. It has been observed 
 by several, that the lion has changed his manner of 
 acting twice or thrice since his first appearance; 
 which will not seem strange, when I acquaint my 
 reader that the lion has been changed upon the 
 audience three several times. The first lion was a 
 candle-snuffer, who being a fellow of a testy, choleric 
 temper, over-did his part, and would not suffer him- 
 self to be killed so easily as he ought to have done ; 
 besides, it was observed of him, that he grew more 
 surly every time he came out of the lion, and having 
 dropt some words in ordinary conversation, as if he 
 had not fought his best, and that he suffered himself 
 to be thrown upon his back in the scuffle, and that he 
 would wrestle with Mr. Nicolini for what he pleased,
 
 112 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 out of his lion's skin, it was thought proper to discard 
 him : and it is verily believed, to this day, that had 
 he been brought upon the stage another time, he 
 would certainly have done mischief. Besides, it was 
 objected against the first lion, that he reared himself 
 so high upon his hinder paws, and walked in so erect 
 a posture, that he looked more like an old man than 
 a lion. 
 
 The second lion was a tailor by trade, who belonged 
 to the playhouse, and had the character of a mild and 
 peaceable man in his profession. If the former was 
 too furious, this was too sheepish for his part ; inso- 
 much, that after a short modest walk upon the stage, 
 he would fall at the first touch of Hydaspes, without 
 grappling with him, and giving him an opportunity of 
 showing his variety of Italian trips. It is said, indeed, 
 that he once gave him a rip in his flesh-coloured 
 doublet ; but this was only to make work for himself, 
 in his private character of a tailor. I must not omit 
 that it was this second lion who treated me with so 
 much humanity behind the scenes. 
 
 The acting lion at present is, as I am informed, a 
 country gentleman, who does it for his diversion, but 
 desires his name may be concealed. He says, very 
 handsomely, in his own excuse, that he does not act 
 for gain ; that he indulges an innocent pleasure in it ; 
 and that it is better to pass away an evening in this 
 manner than in gaming and drinking : but at the 
 same time says, with a very agreeable raillery upon 
 himself, that if his name should be known, the ill- 
 natured world might call him, * the ass in the lion's 
 skin.' This gentleman's temper is made out of such a 
 happy mixture of the mild and the choleric, that he
 
 STAGE LIONS. II3 
 
 outdoes both his predecessors, and has drawn to- 
 gether greater audiences than have been known in 
 the memory of man. 
 
 I must not conclude my narrative, without taking 
 notice of a groundless report that has been raised to 
 a gentleman's disadvantage, of whom I must declare 
 myself an admirer ; namely, that Signior Nicolini 
 and the lion have been seen sitting peaceably by one 
 another, and smoking a pipe together behind the 
 scenes ; by which their common enemies would in- 
 sinuate, that it is but a sham combat which they 
 represent upon the stage : but upon inquiry I find, 
 that if any such correspondence has passed between 
 them, it was not till the combat was over, when the 
 lion was to be looked upon as dead, according to the 
 received rules of the drama. Besides, this is what 
 is practised every day in Westminster Hall, where 
 nothing is more usual than to see a couple of lawyers, 
 who have been tearing each other to pieces in the 
 court, embracing one another as soon as they are out 
 of it. 
 
 I would not be thought, in any part of this relation, 
 to reflect upon Signior Nicolini, who in acting this 
 part only complies with the wretched taste of his 
 audience ; he knows very well, that the lion has many 
 more admirers than himself; as they say of the 
 famous equestrian statue on the Pont Neuf at Paris, 
 that more people go to see the horse than the king 
 who sits upon it. On the contrary, it gives me a just 
 indignation to see a person whose action gives new 
 majesty to kings, resolution to heroes, and softness 
 to lovers, thus sinking from the greatness of his 
 behaviour, and degraded into the character of the 
 I
 
 II4 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 London Prentice. I have often wished, that our 
 tragedians would copy after this great master in 
 action. Could they make the same use of their arms 
 and legs, and inform their faces with as significant 
 looks and passions, how glorious would an English 
 tragedy appear with that action which is capable of 
 giving a dignity to the forced thoughts, cold conceits, 
 and unnatuial expressions of an Italian opera ! In the 
 mean time, I have related this combat of the lion, to 
 show what are at present the reigning entertainments 
 of the politer part of Great Britain,
 
 '^{ft political ^pDolsieicr. 
 
 There lived some years since within my neigh- 
 bourhood a very grave person, an upholsterer, who 
 seemed a man of more than ordinary application to 
 business. He was a very early riser, and was often 
 abroad two or three hours before any of his neigh- 
 bours. He had a particular carefulness in the knitting 
 of his brows, and a kind of impatience in all his mo- 
 tions, that plainly discovered he was always intent on 
 matters of importance. Upon my inquiry into his life 
 and conversation, 1 found him to be the greatest news- 
 monger in our quarter ; that he rose before day to read 
 the Postman ; and that he would take two or three 
 turns to the other end of the town before his neigh- 
 bours were up, to see if there were any Dutch mails 
 come in. He had a wife and several children ; but 
 was much more inquisitive to know what passed in 
 Poland than in his own family, and was in greater 
 pain and anxiety of mind for King Augustus's welfare 
 than that of his nearest relations. He looked ex- 
 tremely thin in a dearth of news, and never enjoyed 
 himself in a westerly wind. This indefatigable kind 
 of life was the ruin of his shop : for about the time 
 that his favourite prince left the crown of Poland, he 
 broke and disappeared. 
 
 This man and his affairs had been long out of mind, 
 till about three days ago, as I was walking in St. James's 
 
 I 2
 
 Il6 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 Park, I heard somebody at a distance hemming after 
 me : and who should it be but my old neighbour the 
 upholsterer. I saw he was reduced to extreme poverty, 
 by certain shabby superfluities in his dress : for, not- 
 withstanding that it was a very sultry day for the time 
 of year, he wore a loose great coat and a muff, with a 
 long campaign-wig out of curl ; to which he had added 
 the ornament of a pair of black garters buckled under 
 the knee. Upon his coming up to me, I was going to 
 inquire into his present circumstances ; but was pre- 
 vented by his asking me, with a whisper, * Whether 
 the last letters brought any accounts that one might 
 rely upon from Bender?' I told him, 'None that I 
 heard of;' and asked him, 'Whether he had yet mar- 
 ried his eldest daughter ?' He told me ' No. But 
 pray,' says he, 'tell me sincerely, what are your 
 thoughts of the king of Sweden ?' (for though his 
 wife and children were starving, I found his chief 
 concern at present was for this great monarch). I 
 told him, ' that I looked upon him as one of the first 
 heroes of the age.' 'But pray,' says he, 'do you 
 think there is anything in the story of his wound?' 
 and finding me surprised at the question, * Nay,' says 
 he, ' I only propose it to you.' I answered, ' that I 
 thought there was no reason to doubt it.' ' But why 
 in the heel,' says he, ' more than in any other part of 
 the body ?' ' Because,' says I, ' the bullet chanced to 
 light there.' 
 
 This extraordinary dialogue was no sooner ended, 
 but he began to launch out into a long dissertation 
 upon the affairs of the North ; and after having spent 
 some time on them, he told me, he was in a great per- 
 plexity how to reconcile the Supplement with the
 
 THE POLITICAL UPHOLSTERER. 1 17 
 
 English Post, and had been just now examining what 
 the other papers say upon the same subject. ' The 
 Daily Courant ' (says he) has these words, ' We have 
 advices from very good hands, that a certain prince 
 has some matters of great importance under con- 
 sideration.' This is very mysterious ; but the Post- 
 boy leaves us more in the dark, for he tells us, * That 
 there are private intimations of measures taken by a 
 certain prince, which time will bring to hght.' Now 
 the Postman, (says he,) who used to be very clear, 
 refers to the same news in these words ; ' The late 
 conduct of a certain prince affords great matter of 
 speculation.' This certain prince, (says the uphol- 
 sterer,) whom they are all so cautious of naming, I 
 
 take to be ,' upon which, though there was nobody 
 
 near us, he whispered something in my ear, which I 
 did not hear, or think worth my while to make him 
 repeat. 
 
 We were now got to the upper end of the Mall, 
 where were three or four very odd fellows sitting 
 together upon the bench. These I found were all 
 of them politicians, who used to sun themselves in 
 that place every day about dinner-time. Observing 
 them to be curiosities in their kind, and my friend's 
 acquaintance, I sat down among them. 
 
 The chief politician of the bench was a great assertor 
 of paradoxes. He told us, with a seeming concern, 
 that by some news he had lately read from Muscovy, 
 it appeared to him that there was a storm gathering 
 in the Black Sea, which might in time do hurt to the 
 naval forces of this nation. To this he added, that 
 for his part, he could not wish to see the Turk driven 
 out of Europe, which he believed could not but be
 
 Il8 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 prejudicial to our woollen manufacture. He then told 
 us, that he looked upon those extraordinary revolu- 
 tions which had lately happened in these parts of the 
 world, to have risen chiefly from two persons who 
 were not much talked of; and those, says he, are 
 Prince Menzikofif, and the Duchess of Mirandola. 
 He backed his assertions with so many broken hints, 
 and such a show of depth and wisdom, that we gave 
 ourselves up to his opinions. 
 
 The discourse at length fell upon a point which 
 seldom escapes a knot of true-born Englishmen, 
 whether in case of a religious war, the Protestants 
 would not be too strong for the Papists ? This we 
 unanimously determined on the Protestant side. One 
 who sat on my right hand, and, as I found by his dis- 
 course, had been in the West Indies, assured us, that 
 it would be a very easy matter for the Protestants to 
 beat the pope at sea ; and added, that whenever such 
 a war does break out, it must turn to the good of the 
 Leeward Islands. Upon this, one who sat at the end 
 of the bench, and, as I afterwards found, was the geo- 
 grapher of the company, said, that in case the Papists 
 should drive the Protestants from these parts of 
 -Europe, when the worst came to the worst, it would 
 be impossible to beat them out of Noi'way and Green- 
 land, provided the northern crowns hold together, and 
 the Czar of Muscovy stand neuter. 
 . He further told us for our comfort, that there were 
 vast tracts of lands about the pole, inhabited neither 
 by Protestants nor Papists, and of greater extent than 
 all the Roman Catholic dominions in Europe. 
 
 When we had fully discussed this point, my friend 
 the upholsterer began to exert himself upon the pre-
 
 THE POLITICAL UPHOLSTERER. II9 
 
 sent negotiations of peace, in which he deposed 
 princes, settled the bounds of kingdoms, and balanced 
 the power of Europe, with great justice and im- 
 partiality. 
 
 I at length took my leave of the company, and was 
 going away ; but had not been gone thirty yards, 
 before the upholsterer hemmed again after me. Upon 
 his advancing towards me, with a whisper, I expected 
 to hear some secret piece of news, which he had not 
 thought fit to communicate to the bench ; but instead 
 of that, he desired me in my ear to lend him half-a- 
 crown. In compassion to so needy a statesman, and 
 to dissipate the confusion I found he was in, I told 
 him, if he pleased, I would give him five shillings, to 
 receive five pounds of him when the Great Turk was 
 driven out of Constantinople ; which he very readily 
 accepted, but not before he had laid down to me the 
 impossibility of such an event, as the affairs of Europe 
 now stand. 
 
 This paper I design for the particular benefit of 
 those worthy citizens who live more in a coffee-house 
 than in their shops, and whose thoughts are so taken 
 up with the affairs of the allies, that they forget their 
 customers.
 
 Fi'sit from i\)t ^pl)oIsicrer. 
 
 A COMMON civility to an impertinent fellow, often 
 draws upon one a great many unforeseen troubles ; and 
 if one doth not take particular care, will be interpreted 
 by him as an overture of friendship and intimacy. 
 This I was very sensible of this morning. About two 
 hours before day, I heard a great rapping at my door, 
 which continued some time, till my maid could get 
 herself ready to go down and see what was the 
 occasion of it. She then brought me up word, that 
 there was a gentleman who seemed very much in 
 haste, and said he must needs speak with me. By 
 the description she gave me of him, and by his voice, 
 which I could hear as I lay in my bed, I fancied him 
 to be my old acquaintance the upholsterer, whom I 
 met the other day in St. James's Park. For which 
 reason I bid her tell the gentleman, whoever he was, 
 that I was indisposed, that I could see nobody, and 
 that, if he had anything to say to me, I desired he 
 would leave it in writing. My maid, after having 
 delivered her message, told me, that the gentleman 
 said he would stay at the next coffee-house till I was 
 stirring, and bid her be sure to tell me, that the 
 French were driven from the Scarp, and that the 
 Douay was invested. He gave her the name of 
 another town, which I found she had dropped by 
 the way.
 
 A VISIT FROM THE UPHOLSTERER. 121 
 
 As much as I love to be informed of the success of 
 my brave countrymen, I do not care for hearing of 
 a victory before day, and was therefore very much 
 out of humour at this unseasonable visit. I had no 
 sooner recovered my temper, and was falling asleep, 
 but I was immediately startled by a second rap ; and 
 upon my maid's opening the door, heard the same 
 voice ask her, if her master was yet up ? and at the 
 same time bid her tell me, that he was come on 
 purpose to talk with me about a piece of home-news 
 that everybody in town will be full of two hours 
 hence. I ordered my maid, as soon as she came 
 into the room, without hearing her message, to tell 
 the gentleman, that whatever his news was, I would 
 rather hear it two hours hence than now ; and that 
 I persisted in my resolution not to speak with any- 
 body that morning. The wench delivered my answer 
 presently, and shut the door. It was impossible for 
 me to compose myself to sleep after two such un- 
 expected alarms ; for which reason I put on my 
 clothes in a very peevish humour. I took several 
 turns about my chamber, reflecting with a great deal 
 of anger and contempt on these volunteers in politics, 
 that undergo all the pain, watchfulness, and disquiet 
 of a first minister, without turning it to the advantage 
 either of themselves or their country ; and yet it is 
 surprising to consider how numerous this species of 
 men is. There is nothing more frequent than to find 
 a tailor breaking his rest on the affairs of Europe, and 
 to see a cluster of porters sitting upon the ministry. 
 Our streets swarm with politicians, and there is scarce 
 a shop which is not held by a statesman. As I was 
 musing after this manner, I heard the upholsterer at the
 
 122 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 door delivering a letter to my maid, and begging her, 
 in very great hurry, to give it to her master as soon 
 as ever he was awake, which I opened and found as 
 follows : 
 
 •Mr. Bickerstaffe, 
 
 I was to wait upon you about a week ago, to 
 let you know, that the honest gentleman whom you 
 conversed with upon the bench at the end of the 
 Mall, having heard that I had received five shillings 
 of you, to give you a hundred pounds upon the Great 
 Turk's being driven out of Europe, desired me to 
 acqaint you, that every one of that company would be 
 willing to receive five shillings, to pay a hundred 
 pounds on the same conditions. Our last advices 
 from Muscovy making this a fairer bet than it was 
 a week ago, I do not question but you will accept the 
 wager. 
 
 But this is not my present business. If you re- 
 member, I whispered a word in your ear as we were 
 walking up the Mall, and you see what has happened 
 since. If I had seen you this morning, I would have 
 told you in your ear another secret. I hope you will be 
 recovered of your indisposition by to-morrow morning, 
 when I will wait on you at the same hour as I did 
 this ; my private circumstances being such, that I 
 cannot well appear in this quarter of the town after 
 it is day. 
 
 I have been so taken up with the late good news 
 from Holland, and the expectation of further par- 
 ticulars, as well as with other transactions, of which 
 I will tell you more to-morrow morning, that I have 
 not slept a wink these three nights. 
 
 I have reason to believe, that Picardy will soon 
 follow the example of Artois, in case the enemy 
 continue in their present resolution of flying away from 
 us. I think I told you last time wc were together my 
 opinion about the Deulle. 
 
 The honest gentlemen upon the bench bid me tell 
 you, they would be glad to sec you often among
 
 A VISIT FROM THE UPHOLSTERER. I23 
 
 them. We shall be there all the warm hours of the 
 day during the present posture of affairs. 
 
 This happy opening of the campaign, will, I hope, 
 give us a very joyful summer ; and I propose to take 
 many a pleasant walk with you, if you will sometimes 
 come into the Park ; for that is the only place in which 
 I can be free from the malice of my enemies. Fare- 
 well till three-a-clock to-morrow morning. 
 I am 
 
 Your most humble servant, Sec. 
 
 ' P. S. The king of Sweden is still at Bender.' 
 
 I should have fretted myself to death at this promise 
 of a second visit, if I had not found in his letter an 
 intimation of the good news which I have since heard 
 at large. I have, however, ordered my maid to tie up 
 the knocker of my door, in such a manner as she 
 ivould do if I were really indisposed. By which means 
 I hope to escape breaking my morning's rest.
 
 ^Ije jfortune f^unttr. 
 
 *Mr. Spectator, 
 
 I am amazed that, among all the variety of 
 characters with which you have enriched your specula- 
 tions, you have never given us a picture of those 
 audacious young fellows among us, who commonly 
 go by the name of fortune-stealers. You must know, 
 sir, I am one who live in a continual apprehension of 
 this sort of people, that lie in wait, day and night, for 
 our children, and may be considered as a kind of 
 kidnappers within the law. I am the father of a young 
 heiress, whom I begin to look upon as marriageable, 
 and who has looked upon herself as such for above 
 these six years. She is now in the eighteenth year 
 of her age. The fortune-hunters have already cast 
 their eyes upon her, and take care to plant themselves 
 in her view whenever she appears in any public 
 assembly. I have myself caught a young jack-a-napes, 
 with a pair of silver fringed gloves, in the very fact. 
 You must know, sir, I have kept her as a prisoner of 
 state ever since she was in her teens. Her chamber 
 windows are cross-barred, she is not permitted to go 
 out of the house but with her keeper, who is a stayed 
 relation of my own ; I have likewise forbid her the 
 use of pen and ink for this twelve months last past, and 
 do not suffer a band-box to be carried into her room 
 before it has been searched. Notwithstanding these 
 precautions, I am at my wits' end for fear of any 
 sudden surprise. There were, two or three nights ago, 
 some fiddles heard in the street, which I am afraid 
 portend me no good ; not to mention a tall Irishman, 
 that has been walking before my house more than 
 once this winter. My kinswoman likewise informs
 
 THE FORTUNE HUNTER. tZ$ 
 
 me, that the girl has talked to her twice or thrice of 
 a gentleman in a fair wig, and that she loves to go to 
 church more than ever she did in her life. She gave 
 me the slip about a week ago, upon which my whole 
 house was in alarm. I immediately despatched a hue 
 and cry after her to the 'Change, to her mantua- 
 maker, and to the young ladies that visit her ; but 
 after above an hour's search she returned of herself, 
 having been taking a walk, as she told me, by 
 Rosamond's pond. I have hereupon turned off her 
 woman, doubled her guards, and given new instruc- 
 tions to my relation, who, to give her her due, keeps 
 a watchful eye over all her motions. This, sir, keeps 
 me in a perpetual anxiety, and makes me very often 
 watch when my daughter sleeps, as I am afraid she 
 is even with me in her turn. Now, sir, what I 
 would desire of you is, to represent to this fluttering 
 tribe of young fellows, who are for making their for- 
 tunes by these indirect means, that stealing a man's 
 daughter for the sake of her portion, is but a kind of 
 tolerated robbery; and that they make but a poor 
 amends to the father, whom they plunder after this 
 manner, by going to bed with his child. Dear sir, 
 be speedy in your thoughts on this subject, that, if 
 possible, they may appear before the disbanding of 
 the army. 
 
 I am, sir, 
 
 Your most humble servant, 
 
 Tim. Watchwell.' 
 
 Themistocles, the great Athenian general, being 
 asked whether he would choose to marry his daughter 
 to an indigent man of merit, or to a worthless man of an 
 estate, replied, that he would prefer a man without an 
 estate, to an estate without a man. The worst of it is 
 our modern fortune-hunters are those who turn their 
 heads that way, because they are good for nothing 
 else. If a young fellow finds he can make nothing
 
 rz6 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 of Cook and Littleton, he provides himself with a 
 ladder of ropes, and by that means very often enters 
 upon the premises. 
 
 The same art of scaling has likewise been practised 
 with good success by many militaiy engineers. Strata- 
 gems of this nature make parts and industry super- 
 fluous, and cut short the way to riches. 
 
 Nor is vanity a less motive than idleness to this 
 kind of mercenary pursuit. A fop who admires his 
 person in a glass, soon enters into a resolution of 
 making his fortune by it, not questioning but every 
 woman that falls in his way will do him as much 
 justice as he does himself. When an heiress sees a 
 man throwing particular graces into his ogle, or talk- 
 ing loud within her hearing, she ought to look to 
 herself; but if withal she observes a pair of red-heels, 
 a patch, or any other particularity in his dress, she 
 cannot take too much care of her person. These are 
 baits not to be trifled with, charms that have done 
 a world of execution, and made their way into hearts 
 which have been thought impregnable. The force 
 of a man with these qualifications is so well known, 
 that I am credibly informed there are several 
 female undertakers about the 'Change, who upon the 
 arrival of a likely man out of a neighbouring king- 
 dom, will furnisli him with proper dress from head 
 to foot, to be paid for at double price on the day 
 of marriage. 
 
 We must, however, distinguish between fortune- 
 hunters and fortune-stealers. The first are those 
 assiduous gentlemen who employ their whole lives in 
 the chase, without ever coming at the quarry. Sufifenus 
 has combed and powdered at the ladies for thirty
 
 THE FORTUNE HUNTER. t27 
 
 years together, and taken his stand in a side box, till 
 he is grown wrinkled under their eyes. He is now 
 laying the same snares for the present generation 
 of beauties, which he practised on their mothers. 
 Cottilus, after having made his applications to more 
 than you meet with in Mr. Cowley's ballad of mis- 
 tresses, was at last smitten with a city lady of ;^20,ooo 
 sterhng ; but died of old age before he could bring 
 matters to bear. Nor must I here omit my worthy 
 friend Mr. Honeycomb, who has often told us in the 
 club, that for twenty years successively, upon the 
 death of a childless rich man, he immediately drew 
 on his boots, called for his horse, and made up to the 
 widow. When he is rallied upon his ill success, Will, 
 with his usual gaiety tells us, that he always found her 
 pre-engaged. 
 
 Widows are indeed the great game of your fortune- 
 hunters. There is scarce a young fellow in the town 
 of six foot high, that has not passed in review before 
 one or other of these wealthy relics. Hudibras's 
 Cupid, who 
 
 — took his stand 
 Upon a widow's jointure land, 
 
 is daily employed in throwing darts and kindling 
 flames. But as for widows, they are such a subtle 
 generation of people, that they may be left to their 
 own conduct ; or if they make a false step in it, they 
 are answerable for it to nobody but themselves. The 
 young innocent creatures who have no knowledge and 
 experience of the world, are those whose safety I 
 would principally consult in this speculation. The 
 stealing of such an one should, in my opinion, be as
 
 128 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 punishable as a rape. Where there is no judgment, 
 there is no choice ; and why the inveighng a woman 
 before she is come to years of discretion, should not 
 be as criminal as the seducing of her before she is ten 
 years old, I am at a loss to comprehend.
 
 'STom Jpolio. 
 
 Tom Folio is a broker in learning, employed to get 
 together good editions, and stock the libraries of great 
 men. There is not a sale of books begins till Tom 
 Folio is seen at the door. There is not an auction 
 where his name is not heard, and that too in the very 
 nick of time, in the critical moment, before the last 
 decisive stroke of the hammer. There is not a sub- 
 scription goes forward, in which Tom is not privy 
 to the first rough draught of the proposals ; nor a 
 catalogue printed, that doth not come to him wet 
 from the press. He is an universal scholar, so far as 
 the title-page of all authors, knows the manuscripts 
 in which they were discovered, the editions through 
 which they have passed, with the praises or censures 
 which they have received from the several members 
 of the learned world. He has a greater esteem for 
 Aldus and Elzevir, than for Virgil and Horace. If 
 you talk of Herodotus, he breaks out into a panegyric 
 upon Harry Stephens. He thinks he gives you an 
 account of an author, when he tells the subject he 
 treats of, the name of the editor, and the year in 
 which it was printed. Or if you draw him into further 
 particulars, he cries up the goodness of the paper, 
 extols the diligence of the corrector, and is trans- 
 ported with the beauty of the letter. This he looks 
 upon to be sound learning and substantial criticism. 
 K
 
 I30 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 As for those who talk of the fineness of style, and the 
 justness of thought, or describe the brightness of any- 
 particular passages ; nay, though they write them- 
 selves in the genius and spirit of the author they 
 admire, Tom looks upon them as men of superficial 
 learning and flashy parts. 
 
 I had yesterday morning a visit from this learned 
 idiot, (for that is the light in which I consider every 
 pedant,) when I discovered in him some little touches 
 of the coxcomb, which I had not before observed. 
 Being very full of the figure which he makes in the 
 republic of letters, and wonderfully satisfied with his 
 great stock of knowledge, he gave me broad intima- 
 tions, that he did not ' believe ' in all points as his 
 forefathers had done. He then communicated to 
 me a thought of a certain author upon a passage of 
 Virgil's account of the dead, which I made the subject 
 of a late paper. This thought hath taken very much 
 among men of Tom's pitch and understanding, though 
 universally exploded by all that know how to construe 
 Virgil, or have any relish of antiquity. Not to trouble 
 my reader with it, I found upon the whole, that Tom 
 did not believe a future state of rewards and punish- 
 ments, because ^neas, at his leaving the empire of 
 the dead, passed through the gate of ivory, and not 
 through that of horn. Knowing that Tom had not 
 sense enough to give up an opinion which he had 
 once received, that he might avoid wrangling, I told 
 him, that Virgil possibly had his oversights as well 
 as another author. *Ah! Mr. Bickerstaffe,' says he, 
 * you would have another opinion of him, if you would 
 read him in Daniel Heinsius's edition. I have perused 
 him myself several times in that edition,' continued
 
 TOM FOLIO. 131 
 
 he ; ' and after the strictest and most malicious ex- 
 amination, could find but two faults in him : one of 
 them is in the ^neid, where there are two commas 
 instead of a parenthesis ; and another in the third 
 Georgic, where you may find a semicolon turned 
 upside down.' ' Perhaps,' (said I,) ' these were not 
 Virgil's thoughts, but those of the transcriber.' ' I do 
 not design it,' says Tom, ' as a reflection on Virgil : 
 on the contrary, I know that all the manuscripts 
 "reclaim" against such a punctuation. Oh! Mr. 
 Bickerstaffe,' says he, ' what would a man give to 
 see one simile of Virgil writ in his own hand?' I 
 asked him which was the simile he meant ; but was 
 answered, 'Any simile in Virgil.' He then told me 
 all the secret history in the commonwealth of learn- 
 ing ; of modern pieces that had the names of ancient 
 authors annexed to them ; of all the books that were 
 now writing or printing in the s^'eral parts of Europe ; 
 of many amendments which are made, and not yet 
 pubhshed ; and a thousand other particulars, which 
 I would not have my memory burthened with for a 
 Vatican. 
 
 At length, being fully persuaded that I thoroughly 
 admired him, and looked upon him as a prodigy of 
 learning, he took his leave. I know several of Tom's 
 class who are professed admirers of Tasso without 
 understanding a word of Italian ; and one in par- 
 ticular, that carries a Pastor Fido in his pocket, in 
 which I am sure he is acquainted with no other 
 beauty but the clearness of the character. 
 
 There is another kind of pedant, who, with all Tom 
 Folio's impertinencies, hath greater superstructures 
 and embellishments of Greek and Latin, and is still 
 K 2
 
 132 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 more insupportable than the other, in the same de- 
 gree as he is more learned. Of this kind very often 
 are editors, commentators, interpreters, scholiasts, 
 and critics ; and in short, all men of deep learning 
 without common sense. These persons set a greater 
 value on themselves for having found out the mean- 
 ing of a passage in Greek, than upon the author for 
 having written it ; nay, will allow the passage itself 
 not to have any beauty in it, at the same time that 
 they would be considered as the greatest men in the 
 age for having interpreted it. They will look with 
 contempt upon the most beautiful poems that have 
 been composed by any of their contemporaries ; but 
 will lock themselves up in their studies for a twelve- 
 month together, to correct, publish, and expound, 
 such trifles of antiquity as a modern author would be 
 contemned for. Men of the strictest morals, severest 
 lives, and the gravest professions, will write volumes 
 upon an idle sonnet that is originally in Greek or 
 Latin ; give editions of the most immoral authors, and 
 spin out whole pages upon the various readings of a 
 lewd expression. All that can be said in excuse for 
 them is, that their works sufficiently show they have 
 no taste of their authors ; and that what they do in 
 this kind, is out of their great learning, and not out of 
 any levity or lasciviousness of temper. 
 
 A pedant of this nature is wonderfully well de- 
 scribed in six lines of Boileau, with which I shall 
 conclude his character : 
 
 Un P(?dant enyvT6 de sa vaine science, 
 Tout herisse de Grec, tout bouffi d' arrogance, 
 Et qui de mille Auteurs retenus mot pour mot, 
 Dans sa tete entassez n' a souvent fait qu'un Sot, 
 Croit qu'un Livre fait tout, et que sans Aristote 
 La Raison ne volt goute, et le bon Sens radote.
 
 SDe iiilan of tDe Solun. 
 
 My friend Will. Honeycomb values himself very 
 much upon what he calls the knowledge of mankind, 
 which has cost him many disasters in his youth ; for 
 Will, reckons every misfortune that he has met with 
 among the women, and every rencounter among the 
 men, as parts of his education, and fancies he should 
 never have been the man he is, had not he broke 
 windows, knocked down constables, disturljcd honest 
 people with his midnight serenades, and beat time up 
 a lewd woman's quarters, when he was a young 
 fellow. The engaging in adventures of this nature 
 Will, calls the studying of mankind ; and terms tliis 
 knowledge of the town, the knowledge of the world. 
 Will, ingenuously confesses, that for half his life his 
 head ached every morning with reading of men over- 
 night ; and at present comforts himself under certain 
 pains which he endures from time to time, that without 
 them he could not have been acquainted with the 
 gallantries of the age. This Will, looks upon as the 
 learning of a gentleman, and regards all other kinds 
 of science as the accomplishments of one whom he 
 calls a scholar, a bookish man, or a philosopher. 
 
 For these reasons Will, shines in mixed company, 
 where he has the discretion not to go out of his 
 depth, and has often a certain way of making his real 
 ignorance appear a seeming one. Our club, however,
 
 134 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 has frequenty caught him tripping, at -which times 
 they never spare him. For as Will, often insults us 
 with the knowledge of the town, we sometimes take 
 our revenge upon him by our knowledge of books. 
 
 He was last week producing two or three letters 
 which he writ in his youth to a coquette lady. The 
 raillery of them was natural, and well enough for a 
 mere man of the town ; but, very unluckily, several 
 of the words were wrong spelt. Will, laught this off 
 at first as well as he could, but finding himself pushed 
 on all sides, and especially by the templar, he told us, 
 with a little passion, that he never liked pedantry in 
 spelling, and that he spelt like a gentleman, and not 
 like a scholar : upon this Will, had recourse to his 
 old topic of showing the narrow-spiritedness, the pride, 
 and ignorance of pedants ; which he carried so far, 
 that upon my retiring to my lodgings, I could not 
 forbear throwing together such reflections as occurred 
 to me upon that subject. 
 
 A man who has been brought up among books, and 
 is able to talk of nothing else, is a very indifferent 
 companion, and what we call a pedant. But, methinks, 
 we should enlarge the title, and give it every one that 
 does not know how to think out of his profession, and 
 particular way of life. 
 
 What is a greater pedant than a mere man of the 
 town ? Bar him the play-houses, a catalogue of the 
 reigning beauties, and an account of a few fashionable 
 distempers that have befallen him, and you strike him 
 dumb. How many a pretty gentleman's knowledge 
 lies all within the verge of the court ? He will tell 
 you the names of the principal favourites, repeat the 
 shrewd sayings of a man of quality, whisper an intrigue
 
 THE MAN OF THE TOWN. I35 
 
 that is not yet blown upon by common fame ; or, if 
 the sphere of his observations is a little larger than 
 ordinary, will perhaps enter into all the incidents, 
 turns, and revolutions in a game of ombre. When he 
 has gone thus far, he has shown you the whole circle 
 of his accomplishments, his parts are drained, and he 
 is disabled from any further conversation. What are 
 these but rank pedants ? and yet these are the men 
 who value themselves most on their exemption from 
 the pedantry of colleges. 
 
 I might here mention the military pedant, who 
 always talks in a camp, and is storming towns, making 
 lodgments, and fighting battles from one end of the 
 year to the other. Everything he speaks smells of 
 gunpowder ; if you take away his artillery from him, 
 he has not a word to say for himself. I might likewise 
 mention the law pedant, that is perpetually putting 
 cases, repeating the transactions of Westminster Hall, 
 wrangling with you upon the most indifferent circum- 
 stances of life, and not to be convinced of the distance 
 of a place, or of the most trivial point in conversation, 
 but by dint of argument. The state pedant is wrap- 
 ped up in news, and lost in politics. If you mention 
 either of the kings of Spain or Poland, he talks very 
 notably ; but if you go out of the gazette, you drop 
 him. In short, a mere courtier, a mere soldier, a 
 mere scholar, a mere anything, is an insipid pedantic 
 character, and equally ridiculous. 
 
 Of all the species of pedants, which I have men- 
 tioned, the book pedant is much the most supportable ; 
 he has at least an exercised understanding, and a head 
 which is full though confused, so that a man who 
 converses with him may often receive from him hints
 
 136 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 of things that are worth knowing, and what he may 
 possibly turn to his own advantage, though they are 
 of Httle use to the owner. The worst kind of pedants 
 among learned men, are such as are naturally endowed 
 with a very small share of common sense, and have 
 read a great number of books without taste or dis- 
 tinction. 
 
 The truth of it is, learning, like travelling, and all 
 other methods of improvement, as it finishes good 
 sense, so it makes a silly man ten thousand times 
 more insufferable, by supplying variety of matter to 
 his impertinence, and giving him an opportunity of 
 abounding in absurdities.
 
 ®j^e ©:ruu!imnl{Ei: at ilje png. 
 
 There is nothing which lies more within the 
 province of a Spectator than public shows and diver- 
 sions ; and as among these there are none which can 
 pretend to vie with those elegant entertainments that 
 are exhibited in our theatres, I think it particularly 
 incumbent on me to take notice of everything that is 
 remarkable in such numerous and refined assemblies. 
 
 It is observed, that of late years there has been a 
 certain person in the upper gallery of the play-house, 
 who, when he is pleased with anything that is acted 
 upon the stage, expresses his approbation by a loud 
 knock upon the benches or the wainscot, which may 
 be heard over the whole theatre. This person is com- 
 monly known by the name of the ' Trunk-maker in the 
 upper gallery.' Whether it be, that the blow he gives 
 on these occasions resembles that which is often heard 
 in the shops of such artisans, or that he was supposed 
 to have been a real trunk-maker, who, after the finish- 
 ing of his day's work, used to unbend his mind at 
 these public diversions with his hammer in his hand, 
 I cannot certainly tell. There are some, I know, who 
 have been foolish enough to imagine it is a spirit 
 which haunts the upper gallery, and from time to time 
 makes those strange noises ; and the rather, because 
 he is observed to be louder than ordinary every time 
 the ghost of Hamlet appears. Others have reported
 
 138 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 that it is a dumb man, who has chosen this way of 
 uttering himself, when he is transported with anything 
 he sees or hears. Others will have it to be the play- 
 house thunderer, that exerts himself after this manner 
 in the upper gallery, when he has nothing to do upon 
 the roof. 
 
 But having made it my business to get the best in- 
 formation I could in a matter of this moment, I find 
 that the Trunk-maker, as he is commonly called, is a 
 large black man, whom nobody knows. He generally 
 leans forward on a huge oaken plant, with great 
 attention to everything that passes upon the stage. 
 He is never seen to smile ; but upon hearing anything 
 that pleases him, he takes up his staff with both 
 hands, and lays it upon the next piece of timber that 
 stands in his way with exceeding vehemence : after 
 which he composes himself in his former posture, till 
 such time as something new sets him again at work. 
 
 It has been observed, his blow is so well timed, that 
 the most judicious critic could never except against it. 
 As soon as any shining thought is expressed in the 
 poet, or any uncommon grace appears in the actor, he 
 smites the bench or wainscot. If the audience does 
 not concur with hi.m, he smites a second time ; and if 
 the audience is not yet awaked, looks round him with 
 great wrath, and repeats the blow a third time, which 
 never fails to produce the clap. He sometimes lets 
 the audience begin the clap of themselves, and at the 
 conclusion of their applause ratifies it with a single 
 thwack. 
 
 He is of so great use to the play-house, that it is 
 said a former director of it, upon his not being able 
 to pay his attendance by reason of sickness, kept one
 
 THE TRUNKMAKER AT THE PLAV. 139 
 
 in pay to officiate for him till such time as he re- 
 covered ; but the person so employed, though he laid 
 about him with incredible violence, did it in such 
 wrong places, that the audience soon found out that 
 it was not their old friend the Trunk-maker. 
 
 It has been remarked, that he has not yet exerted 
 himself with vigour this season. He sometimes plies 
 at the opera; and upon Nicolini's first appearance, 
 was said to have demolished three benches in the fury 
 of his applause. He has broken half a dozen oaken 
 plants upon Dogget ; and seldom goes away from a 
 tragedy of Shakespeare, without leaving the wainscot 
 extremely shattered. 
 
 The players do not only connive at this his ob- 
 streperous approbation, but very cheerfully repair at 
 their own cost whatever damage he makes. They had 
 once a thought of erecting a kind of wooden anvil for 
 his use, that should be made of a very sounding plank, 
 in order to render his strokes more deep and mellow ; 
 but as this might not have been distinguished from the 
 music of a kettle-drum, the project was laid aside. 
 
 In the mean while I cannot but take notice of the 
 great use it is to an audience, that a person should 
 thus preside over their heads, like the director of a 
 concert, in order to awaken their attention, and beat 
 time to their applauses ; or, to raise my simile, I have 
 sometimes fancied the Trunk-maker in the upper 
 gallery to be like Virgil's ruler of the wind, seated 
 upon the top of a mountain, who, when he struck his 
 sceptre upon the side of it, roused an hurricane, and 
 set the whole cavern in an uproar. 
 
 It is certain the Trunk-maker has saved many a 
 good play, and brought many a graceful actor into
 
 I4d HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 reputation, who would not otherwise have been taken 
 notice of. It is very visible, as the audience is not 
 a little abashed if they find themselves betrayed into 
 a clap, when their friend in the upper gallery does not 
 come into it ; so the actors do not value themselves 
 upon the clap, but regard it as a mere bntttnn fulmcn,, 
 or empty noise, when it has not the sound of the 
 oaken plant in it. I know it has been given out by 
 those who are enemies to the Trunk-maker, that he 
 has sometimes been bribed to be in the interest of a 
 bad poet, or a vicious player ; but this is a surmise 
 which has no foundation ; his strokes are always just, 
 and his admonitions seasonable ; he does not deal 
 about his blows at random, but always hits the right 
 nail upon the head. That inexpressible force where- 
 with he lays them on, sufficiently shows the evidence 
 and strength of his conviction. His zeal for a good 
 author is indeed outrageous, and breaks down every 
 fence and partition, eveiy board and plank, that stands 
 within the expression of his applause. 
 
 As I do not care for terminating my thoughts in 
 barren speculations, or in reports of pure matter of 
 fact, without drawing something from them for the 
 advantage of my countrymen, I shall take the liberty 
 to make an humble proposal, that whenever the 
 Trunk-maker shall depart this life, or whenever he 
 shall have lost the spring of his arm by sickness, old 
 age, infirmity, or the like, some able-bodied critic 
 should be advanced to this post, and have a com- 
 petent salary settled on him for life, to be furnished 
 with bamboos for operas, crab-tree cudgels for 
 comedies, and oaken plants for tragedy, at the public 
 expense. And to the end that this place should be
 
 THE TRUNK.MAKER AT THE PLAY. I41 
 
 always disposed of according to merit, I would have 
 none preferred to it, who has not given convincing 
 proofs both of a sound judgment and a strong arm, 
 and who could not, upon occasion, either knock down 
 an ox, or write a comment upon Horace's Art of 
 Poetry. In short, I would have him a due composition 
 of Hercules and Apollo, and so rightly qualified for 
 this important office, that the Trunk-maker may not 
 be missed by our posterity.
 
 <EqM l^ouse politicians. 
 
 When I consider this great city in its several quar- 
 ters and divisions, I look upon it as an aggregate of 
 various nations distinguished from each other by their 
 respective customs, manners, and interests. The 
 courts of two countries do not so much differ from 
 one another, as the court and city in their peculiar 
 ways of life and conversation. In short, the inhabit- 
 ants of St. James's, notwithstanding they live under 
 the same laws, and speak the same language, are a 
 distinct people from those- of Cheapside, who are 
 likewise removed from those of the Temple on the 
 one side, and those of Smithfield on the other, by 
 several climates and degrees in their way of thinking 
 and conversing together. 
 
 For this reason, when any public affair is upon the 
 anvil, I love to hear the reflections that arise upon it 
 in the several districts and parishes of London and 
 Westminster, and to ramble up and down a whole 
 day together, in order to make myself acquainted 
 with the opinions of my ingenious countrymen. By 
 this means I know the faces of all the principal 
 politicians within the bills of mortality ; and as 
 every coffee-house has some particular statesman 
 belonging to it, who is the mouth of the street 
 where he lives, I always take care to place myself 
 near him, in order to know his judgment on the
 
 COFFEE HOUSE POLITICIANS. 143 
 
 present posture of affairs. The last progress that I 
 made with this intention was about three months 
 ago, when we had a current report of the king of 
 France's death. As I foresaw this would produce a 
 new face of things in Europe, and many curious 
 speculations in our British coffee-houses, I was very 
 desirous to learn the thoughts of our most eminent 
 politicians on that occasion. 
 
 That I might begin as near the fountain-head as 
 possible, I first of all called in at St. James's, where 
 I found the whole outward room in a buzz of politics. 
 The speculations were but very indifferent towards 
 the door, but grew finer as you advanced to the upper 
 end of the room, and were so very much improved by 
 a knot of theorists who sat in the inner room, within 
 the steams of the coffee-pot, that I there heard the 
 whole Spanish monarchy disposed of, and all the line 
 of Bourbon provided for, in less than a quarter of an 
 hour. 
 
 I afterwards called in at Giles's, where I saw a 
 board of French gentlemen sitting upon the life and 
 death of their Grand Monarqiie. Those among them 
 who had espoused the Whig interest, very positively 
 affirmed, that he departed this life about a week 
 since, and therefore proceeded without any further 
 delay to the release of their friends on the galleys, 
 and to their own re-establishment ; but finding they 
 could not agree among themselves, I proceeded on 
 my intended progress. 
 
 Upon my arrival at Jenny Man's, I saw an alert 
 young fellow that cocked his hat upon a friend of his 
 who entered just at the same time with myself, and 
 accosted him after the following manner : ' Well Jack,
 
 144 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 the old prig is dead at last. Sharp 's the word. Now 
 or never boy. Up to the walls of Paris directly.' 
 With several other deep reflections of the same 
 nature. 
 
 I met with very little variation in the politics be- 
 tween Charing Cross and Covent Garden. And upon 
 my going into Will's, I found their discourse was 
 gone off from the death of the French king to that 
 of Monsieur Boileau, Racine, Corneille, and several 
 other poets, whom they regretted on this occasion, as 
 persons who would have obliged the world with very 
 noble elegies on the death of so great a prince, and 
 so eminent a patron of learning. 
 
 At a coffee-house near the Temple, I found a couple 
 of young gentlemen engaged very smartly in a dispute 
 on the succession to the Spanish monarchy. One of 
 them seemed to have been retained as advocate for 
 the Duke of Anjou, the other for his Imperial Majesty. 
 They were both for regulating the title to that king- 
 dom by the statute laws of England ; but finding 
 them going out of my depth, I passed forward to 
 Paul's Churchyard, where I listened with great atten- 
 tion to a learned man, who gave the company an 
 account of the deplorable state of France during the 
 minority of the deceased king. 
 
 I then turned on my right hand into Fish Street, 
 where the chief politician of that quarter, upon hear- 
 ing the news, (after having taken a pipe of tobacco, 
 and ruminating for some time,) 'If,' says he, 'the king 
 of France is certainly dead, we shall have plenty of 
 mackerel this season ; our fishery will not be dis- 
 turbed by privateers, as it has been for these ten 
 years past.' He afterwards considered how the death
 
 COFFEE HOUSE POLITICIANS. I45 
 
 of this great man would affect our pilchards, and by 
 several other remarks infused a general joy into his 
 whole audience. 
 
 I afterwards entered a by coffee-house that stood at 
 the upper end of a narrow lane, where I met with a 
 Nonjuror, engaged very warmly with a Laceman who 
 was the great support of a neighbouring conventicle. 
 The matter in debate was, whether the late French 
 king was most like Augustus Caesar or Nero. The 
 controversy was carried on with great heat on both 
 sides, and as each of them looked upon me very 
 frequently during the course of their debate, I was 
 under some apprehension that they would appeal to 
 me, and therefore laid down my penny at the bar, and 
 made the best of my way to Cheapside. 
 
 I here gazed upon the signs for some time before 
 I found one to my purpose. The first object I met in 
 the coffee-room was a person who expressed a great 
 grief for the death of the French king ; but upon his 
 explaining himself, I found his sorrow did not arise 
 from the loss of the monarch, but for his having sold 
 out of the bank about three days before he heard the 
 news of it ; upon which a haberdasher, who was the 
 oracle of the coffee-house, and had his circle of 
 admirers about him, called several to witness that he 
 had declared his opinion above a week before, that 
 the French king was certainly dead ; to which he 
 added, that considering the late advices we had 
 received from France, it was impossible that it could 
 be otherwise. As he was laying these together, and 
 dictating to his hearers with great authority, there 
 came in a gentleman from Garraway's, who told us 
 that there were several letters from France just come 
 L
 
 146 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 in, with advice that the king was in good heaUh, and 
 was gone out a hunting the very morning the post 
 came away : upon which the haberdasher stole off his 
 hat that hung upon a wooden peg by him, and retired 
 to his shop with great confusion. This intelHgencc 
 put a stop to my travels, which I had prosecuted with 
 much satisfaction ; not being a little pleased to hear 
 so many different opinions upon so great an event, 
 and to observe how naturally upon such a piece of 
 news eveiy one is apt to consider it with a regard to 
 his own particular interest and advantage.
 
 There is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner 
 and frights a country squire, than the Cries of London. 
 My good friend Sir Roger often declares, that he can- 
 not get them out of his head, or go to sleep for them, 
 the first week that he is in town. On the contrary, 
 Will. Honeycomb calls them the Ramage de la Ville, 
 and prefers them to the sounds of larks and nightin- 
 gales, with all the music of the fields and woods. I 
 have lately received a letter from some very odd 
 fellow upon this subject, which I shall leave with my 
 reader, without saying anything further of it. 
 
 *SlR, 
 
 I am a man out of all business, and would 
 willingly turn my head to anything for an honest live- 
 lihood. I have invented several projects for raising 
 many millions of money without burthening the sub- 
 ject, but I cannot get the parliament to listen to me, 
 who look upon me, forsooth, as a crack and a pro- 
 jector; so that despairing to enrich either myself or 
 my country by this public-spiritedness, I would make 
 some proposals to you relating to a design which I 
 have very much at heart, and which may procure me 
 an handsome subsistence, if you will be pleased to 
 recommend it to the cities of London and West- 
 minster. 
 
 ' The post I would aim at is to be Comptroller- 
 general of the London Cries, which are at present 
 under no manner of rules or discipline. I think I am 
 pretty well qualified for this place, as being a man of 
 
 L2
 
 148 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 very strong lungs, of great insight into all the branches 
 of our British trades and manufactures, and of a com- 
 petent slcill in music. 
 
 ' The cries of London may be divided into vocal 
 and instrumental. As for the latter, they are at pre- 
 sent under a very great disorder. A freeman of 
 London has the privilege of disturbing a whole street, 
 for an hour together, with the twanking of a brass- 
 kettle or a frying-pan. The watchman's thump at 
 midnight startles us in our beds as much as the 
 breaking in of a thief. The sow-gelder's horn has 
 indeed something musical in it, but this is seldom 
 heard within the liberties. I would therefore propose, 
 that no instrument of this nature should be made use 
 of, which I have not tuned and licensed, after having 
 carefully examined in what manner it may affect the 
 cars of her Majesty's liege subjects. 
 
 ' Vocal cries are of a much larger extent, and, 
 indeed, so full of incongruities and barbarisms, that 
 we appear a distracted city to foreigners, who do not 
 comprehend the meaning of such enormous outcries. 
 Milk is generally sold in a note above ela, and it 
 sounds so exceeding shrill, that it often sets our 
 teeth on edge. The chimney-sweeper is confined to 
 no certain pitch; he sometimes utters himself in the 
 deepest bass, and sometimes in the sharpest treble ; 
 sometimes in the highest, and sometimes in the lowest 
 note of the gamut. The same observation might be 
 made on the retailers of small coal, not to mention 
 broken glasses or brick-dust. In these, therefore, and 
 the like cases, it should be my care to sweeten and 
 mellow the voices of these itinerant tradesmen, before 
 they make their appearance in our streets, as also to 
 accommodate their cries to their respective wares ; 
 and to take care in particular that those may not 
 make the most noise who have the least to sell, which 
 is very observable in the venders of card-matches, to 
 whom I cannot but apply that old proverb of " Much 
 cry, but little wool." 
 
 'Some of these last-mentioned musicians are so 
 very loud in the sale of these trifling manufactures,
 
 LONDON CRIES. 149 
 
 that an honest splenetic gentleman of my acquaint- 
 ance bargained with one of them never to come into 
 the street where he lived : but what was the effect of 
 this contract ? why, the whole tribe of card-match- 
 makers which frequent the quarter, passed by his 
 door the very next day, in hopes of being bought off 
 after the same manner. 
 
 * It is another great imperfection in our London 
 cries, that there is no just time nor measure observed 
 in them. Our news should, indeed, be published in 
 a very quick time, because it is a commodity that will 
 not keep cold. It should not, however, be cried with 
 the same precipitation as " fire : " yet this is generally 
 the case. A bloody battle alarms the town from one 
 end to another in an instant. Every motion of the 
 French is published in so great a hurry, that one 
 would think the enemy were at our gates. This like- 
 wise I would take upon me to regulate in such a 
 manner, that there should be some distinction made 
 between the spreading of a victory, a march, or an 
 encampment, a Dutch, a Portugal, or a Spanish mail. 
 Nor must I omit under this head, those excessive 
 alarms with which several boisterous rustics infest our 
 streets in turnip season ; and which are more inex- 
 cusable, because these are wares which are in no 
 danger of cooling upon their hands. 
 
 ' There are others who affect a very slow time, and 
 are, in my opinion, much more tunable than the 
 former ; the cooper, in particular, swells his last note 
 in an hollow voice, that is not without its harmony : 
 nor can 1 forbear being inspired with a most agree- 
 able melancholy, when I hear that sad and solemn air 
 with which the public is very often asked, if they have 
 any chairs to mend ? Your own memory may suggest 
 to you many other lamentable ditties of the same 
 nature, in which the music is wonderfully languishing 
 and melodious. 
 
 ' I am always pleased with that particular time of 
 the year which is proper for the pickling of dill and 
 cucumbers ; but, alas, this cry, like the song of the 
 nightingale, is not heard above two months. It would,
 
 150 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 therefore, be worth wliile to consider whether the 
 same air might not in some cases be adapted to 
 otlier words. 
 
 ' It might hkewise deserve our most serious con- 
 sideration, how far, in a well-regulated city, those 
 humourists are to be tolerated, who, not contented 
 with the traditional cries of their forefothers, have 
 invented particular songs and tunes of their own : 
 such as was, not many years since, the pastry-man, 
 commonly known by the name of the colly-molly-pufif ; 
 and such as is at this day the vender of powder and 
 wash-balls, who, if I am rightly informed, goes under 
 the name of Powder Watt. 
 
 ' I must not here omit one particular absurdity 
 which runs through this whole vociferous generation, 
 and which renders their cries very often not only 
 incommodious, but altogether useless to the public ; 
 I mean that idle accomplishment which they all of 
 them aim at, of crying so as not to be understood. 
 Whether or no they have learned this from several of 
 our affected singers, I will not take upon me to say ; 
 but most certain it is, that people know the wares 
 they deal in rather by their tunes than by their words ; 
 insomuch, that I have sometimes seen a country boy 
 run out to buy apples of a bellows-mender, and ginger- 
 bread from a grinder of kniv-es and scissars. Nay, so 
 strangely infatuated arc some very eminent artists of 
 this particular grace in a cry, that none but their 
 acquaintance are able to guess at their profession ; 
 for who else can know that, " Work if I had it," should 
 be the signification of a corn-cutter. 
 
 * Forasmuch, therefore, as persons of this rank are 
 seldom men of genius or capacity, I think it would be 
 very proper, that some man of good sense, and sound 
 judgment, should preside over these public cries, who 
 should permit none to lift up their voices in our 
 streets, that have not tuneable throats, and are not 
 only able to overcome the noise of the crowd, and the 
 rattling of coaches, but also to vend their respective 
 merchandises in apt phrases, and in the most distinct 
 and agreeable sounds. I do therefore humbly recom-
 
 LONDON CRIES. 151 
 
 mend myself as a person rightly qualified for this 
 post : and if I meet with fitting encouragement, shall 
 communicate some other projects which I have by 
 me, that may no less conduce to the emolument of 
 the public. 
 
 ' I am, sir, &c. 
 
 'Ralph Crotchet.'
 
 mz Cat=(2Dan. 
 
 I HAVE lately received the following letter from a 
 country gentleman. 
 
 *Mr. Spectator, 
 
 The night before I left London I went to see a 
 play, called, The Humorous Lieutenant. Upon the 
 rising of the curtain I was very much surprised with 
 the great consort of cat-calls which was exhibited that 
 evening, and began to think with myself that I had 
 made a mistake, and gone to a music-meeting instead 
 of the play-house. It appeared, indeed, a little odd 
 to me, to see so many persons of quality of both sexes 
 assembled together at a kind of caterwauling ; for I 
 cannot look upon that performance to have been any- 
 thing better, whatever the musicians themselves might 
 think of it. As I had no acquaintance in the house to 
 ask questions of, and was forced to go out of town 
 early the next morning, I could not learn the secret of 
 this matter. What I would therefore desire of you, is, 
 to give some account of this strange instrument, which 
 I found the company called a cat-call ; and particularly 
 to let me know whether it be a piece of music lately 
 come from Italy. For my own part, to be free with 
 you, I would rather hear an English fiddle ; though I 
 durst not show my dislike whilst I was in the play- 
 house, it being my chance to sit the very next man to 
 one of the performers. 
 
 ' I am, sir, 
 Your most affectionate friend and servant, 
 John Shallow, Esq.' 
 
 In compliance with 'Squire Shallow's request, I 
 design this paper as a dissertation upon the cat-calL
 
 THE CAT-CALL. 153 
 
 In order to make myself a master of the subject, I 
 purchased one the beginning of last week, though not 
 without great difficulty, being informed at two or three 
 toy-shops that the players had lately bought them all 
 up. I have since consulted many learned antiquaries 
 in relation to its original, and find them very much 
 divided among themselves upon that particular. A 
 Fellow of the Royal Society, who is my good friend, 
 and a great proficient in the mathematical part of 
 music, concludes from the simplicity of its make, and 
 the uniformity of its sound, that the cat-call is older 
 than any of the inventions of Jubal. He observes 
 very well, that musical instruments took their first rise 
 from the notes of birds, and other melodious animals ; 
 and what, says he, was more natural than for the first 
 ages of mankind to imitate the voice of a cat that 
 lived under the same roof with them ? he added, that 
 the cat had contributed more to harmony than any 
 other animal ; as we are not only beholden to her 
 for this wind-instrument, but for our string music in 
 general. 
 
 Another virtuoso of my acquaintance will not allow 
 the cat-call to be older than Thespis, and is apt to 
 think it appeared in the world soon after the ancient 
 comedy ; for which reason it has still a place in our 
 dramatic entertainments : nor must I here omit what 
 a curious gentleman, who is lately returned from his 
 travels, has more than once assured me, namely, that 
 there was lately dug up at Rome the statue of a 
 Momus, who holds an instrument in his right hand 
 very much resembling our modern cat-call. 
 
 There are others who ascribe this invention to 
 Orpheus, and look upon the cat-call to be one of
 
 154 HUMOURS OF the town, 
 
 those instruments which that famous musician made 
 use of to draw the beasts about him. It is certain, 
 that the roasting of a cat does not call together a 
 greater audience of that species, than this instrument, 
 if dexterously played upon in proper time and place. 
 
 But notwithstanding these various and learned con- 
 jectures, I cannot forbear thinking that the cat-call is 
 originally a piece of English music. Its resemblance 
 to the voice of some of our British songsters, as well 
 as the use of it, which is peculiar to our nation, con- 
 firms me in this opinion. It has at least received great 
 improvements among us, whether we consider the in- 
 strument itself, or those several quavers and graces 
 which are thrown into the playing of it. Every one 
 might be sensible of this, who heard that remarkable 
 overgrown cat-call which was placed in the centre of 
 the pit, and presided over all the rest at the celebrated 
 performance lately exhibited in Drury Lane. 
 
 Having said thus much concerning the original of 
 the cat-call, we are in the next place to consider the 
 use of it. The cat-call exerts itself to most advantage 
 in the British theatre : it very much improves the 
 sound of nonsense, and often goes along with the 
 voice of the actor who pronounces it, as the violin or 
 harpsichord accompanies the Italian recitativo. 
 
 It has often supplied the place of the ancient chorus, 
 in the words of Mr. * * * In short, a bad poet has 
 as great an antipathy to a cat-call, as many people 
 have to a real cat. 
 
 Mr. Collier, in his ingenious essay upon music, has 
 the following passage : 
 
 ' I believe it is possible to invent an instrument that 
 shall have a quite contrary effect to those martial ones
 
 THE CAT-CALL. 155 
 
 now in use : an instrument that shall sink the spirits, 
 and shake the nerves, and curdle the blood, and in- 
 spire despair, and cowardice, and consternation, at a 
 surprising rate. It is probable the roaring of a lion, 
 the warbling of cats and screech-owls, together with a 
 mixture of the howling of dogs, judiciously imitated 
 and compounded, might go a great way in this inven- 
 tion. Whether such anti-music as this might not be 
 of service in a camp, I shall leave to the military men 
 to consider.' 
 
 What this learned gentleman supposes in specu- 
 lation, I have known actually verified in practice. 
 The cat-call has struck a damp into generals, and 
 frighted heroes off the stage. At the first sound of 
 it I have seen a crowned head tremble, and a princess 
 fall into fits. The humorous lieutenant himself could 
 not stand it ; nay, I am told that even Almanzor looked 
 like a mouse, and trembled at the voice of this terrify- 
 ing instrument. 
 
 As it is of a dramatic nature, and peculiarly appro- 
 priated to the stage, I can by no means approve the 
 thought of that angiy lover, who, after an unsuccessful 
 pui'suit of some years, took leave of his mistress in a 
 serenade of cat-calls. 
 
 I must conclude this paper with the account I have 
 lately received of an ingenious artist, who has long 
 studied this instrument, and is very well versed in all 
 the rules of the drama. He teaches to play on it by 
 book, and to express by it the whole art of criticism. 
 He has his base and his treble cat-call ; the former 
 for tragedy, the latter for comedy ; only in tragi- 
 comedies they may both play together in consort. 
 He has a particular squeak to denote the violation of
 
 156 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN, 
 
 each of the unities, and has different sounds to show 
 whether he aims at the poet or the player. In short, 
 he teaches the smut-note, the fustian-note, the stupid- 
 note, and has composed a kind of air that may serve 
 as an act-tune to an incorrigible play, and which takes 
 in the whole compass of the cat-call.
 
 ^5c iBetospapcr. 
 
 There is no humour in my countrymen, which I 
 am more inclined to wonder at, than their general 
 thirst after news. There are about half a dozen in- 
 genious men, who live veiy plentifully upon this 
 curiosity of their fellow-subjects. They all of them 
 receive the same advices from abroad, and very often 
 in the same words ; but their way of cooking it is so 
 different, that there is no citizen, who has an eye to 
 the public good, that can leave the coffee-house with 
 peace of mind, before he has given eveiy one of them 
 a reading. These several dishes of news are so very 
 agreeable to the palate of my countrymen, that they 
 are not only pleased with them when they are served 
 up hot, but when they are again set cold before them 
 by those penetrating politicians, who oblige the public 
 with their reflections and observations upon every 
 piece of intelligence that is sent us from abroad. 
 The text is given us by one set of writers, and the 
 comment by another. 
 
 But notwithstanding we have the same tale told us 
 in so many different papers, and if occasion requires, 
 in so meny articles of the same paper ; notwithstand- 
 ing a scarcity of foreign posts we hear the same story 
 repeated, by different advices from Paris, Brussels, 
 the Hague, and from every great town in Europe ; 
 notwithstanding the multitude of annotations, explana-
 
 158 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 tions, reflections, and various readings which it passes 
 through, our time lies heavy on our hands till the 
 arrival of a fresh mail : we long to receive further par- 
 ticulars, to hear what will be the next step, or what 
 will be the consequence of that which has been lately 
 taken. A westerly wind keeps the whole town in 
 suspense, and puts a stop to conversation. 
 
 This general curiosity has been raised and inflamed 
 by our late wars, and, if rightly directed, might be of 
 good use to a person who has such a thirst awakened 
 in him. Why should not a man who takes delight in 
 reading everything that is new, apply himself to his- 
 toiy, travels, and other writings of the same kind, 
 where he will find perpetual fuel for his curiosity, and 
 meet with much more pleasure and improvement, 
 than in these papers of the week ? An honest trades- 
 man, who languishes a whole summer in expectation 
 of a battle, and perhaps is balked at last, may here 
 meet with half a dozen in a day. He may read the 
 news of a whole campaign in less time than he now 
 bestows upon the products of any single post. Fights, 
 conquests, and revolutions lie thick together. The 
 reader's curiosity is raised and satisfied every moment, 
 and his passions disappointed or gratified, without 
 being detained in a state of uncertainty from day to 
 day, or lying at the mercy of sea and wind. In short, 
 the mind is not here kept in a perpetual gape after 
 knowledge, nor punished with that eternal thirst which 
 is the portion of all our modern newsmongers and 
 coffee-house politicians. 
 
 All matters of fact, which a man did not know 
 before, are news to him ; and I do not see how any 
 haberdasher in Chcapside is more concerned in the
 
 THE NEWSPAPER. 159 
 
 present quarrel of the Cantons, than he was in that of 
 the League. At least, I beheve every one will allow 
 me, it is of more importance to an Englishman to 
 know the history of his ancestors, than that of his 
 contemporaries who live upon the banks of the 
 Danube or the Borysthenes. As for those who are 
 of another mind, I shall recommend to them the 
 following letter, from a projector, who is willing to 
 turn a penny by this remarkable curiosity of his 
 counti-ymen. 
 
 ' Mr. Spectator, 
 
 You must have observed, that men who frequent 
 coffee-houses, and delight in news, are pleased with 
 everything that is matter of fact, so it be what they 
 have not heard before. A victory, or a defeat, are 
 equally agreeable to them. The shutting of a car- 
 dinal's mouth pleases them one post, and the opening 
 of it another. They are glad to hear the French 
 court is removed to Marli, and are afterwards as much 
 delighted with its return to Versailles. They read the 
 advertisements with the same curiosity as the articles 
 of public news ; and are as pleased to hear of a pie- 
 bald horse that is strayed out of a field near Islington, 
 as of a whole troop that has been engaged in any 
 foreign adventure. In short, they have a relish for 
 everything that is news, let the matter of it be what it 
 will ; or to speak more properly, they are men of a 
 voracious appetite, but no taste. Now, sir, since the 
 great fountain of news, I mean the war, is very near 
 being dried up ; and since these gentlemen have con- 
 tracted such an inextinguishal^le thirst after it ; I have 
 taken their case and my own into consideration, and 
 have thought of a project which may turn to the ad- 
 vantage of us both. I have thoughts of publishing a 
 daily paper, which shall comprehend in it all the most 
 remarkable occurrences in every little town, village, and 
 hamlet, that lie within ten miles of London, or in
 
 l6o HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 Other words, within the verge of the penny-post. I 
 have pitched upon this scene of intelligence for two 
 reasons ; first, because the carriage of letters will be 
 very cheap ; and secondly, because I may receive 
 them every day. By this means my readers will have 
 their news fresh and fresh, and many worthy citizens, 
 who cannot sleep with any satisfaction at present, for 
 want of being informed how the world goes, may go to 
 bed contentedly, it being my design to put out my 
 paper every night at nine-a-clock precisely. I have 
 already established correspondences in these several 
 places, and received very good intelligence. 
 
 ' By my last advices from Knightsbridge I hear that 
 a horse was clapped into the pound on the third 
 instant, and that he was not released when the letters 
 came away. 
 
 ' We are informed from Pankridge, that a dozen 
 weddings were lately celebrated in the mother-church 
 of that place, but are referred to their next letters for 
 the names of the parties concerned. 
 
 ' Letters from Brompton advise, that the widow 
 Blight had received several visits from John Mildew, 
 which affords great matter of speculation in those 
 parts. 
 
 ' By a fisherman which lately touched at Hammer- 
 smith, there is advice from Putney, that a certain per- 
 son well known in that place, is like to lose his 
 election for churchwarden ; but this being boat-news, 
 we cannot give entire credit to it. 
 
 ' Letters from Paddington bring little more than 
 that William Squeak, the sow-gelder, passed through 
 that place the fifth instant. 
 
 * They advise from Fulham, that things remained 
 there in the same state they were. They had intel- 
 ligence, just as the letters came away, of a tub of 
 excellent ale just set a-broach at Parsons Green ; but 
 this wanted confirmation. 
 
 ' I have here, sir, given you a specimen of the news 
 with which I intend to entertain the town, and which 
 when drawn up regularly in the form of a newspaper, 
 will, I doubt not, be very acceptable to many of those
 
 THE NEWSPAPER. l6l 
 
 public-spirited readers, who take more delight in 
 acquainting themselves with other people's business 
 than their own. I hope a paper of this kind, which 
 lets us know what is done near home, may be more 
 useful to us than those which are filled with advices 
 from Zug and Bender, and make some amends for 
 that dearth of intelligence, which we justly apprehend 
 from times of peace. If I find that you receive this 
 project favourably, I will shortly trouble you with one 
 or two more ; and in the mean time am, most worthy 
 sir, with all due respect, 
 
 ' Your most obedient and most humble servant,'
 
 It is sometimes pleasant enough to consider the 
 different notions which different persons have of the 
 same thing. If men of low condition very often set 
 a value on things which are not prized by those who 
 are in a higher station of life, there are many things 
 these esteem which are in no value among persons 
 of an inferior rank. Common people are, in particular, 
 very much astonished, when they hear of those solemn 
 contests and debates, which are made among the 
 great upon the punctilios of a public ceremony ; and 
 wonder to hear that any business of consequence 
 should be retarded by those little circumstances, which 
 they represent to themselves as trifling and insigni- 
 ficant. I am mightily pleased with a porter's decision 
 in one of Mr. Southern's plays, which is founded upon 
 that fine distress of a virtuous woman's marrying a 
 second husband, while her first was yet living. The 
 first husband, who was supposed to have been dead, 
 returning to his house after a long absence, raises a 
 noble perplexity for the tragic part of the play. In 
 the mean while, the nurse and the porter conferring 
 upon the difficulties that would ensue in such a case, 
 honest Samson thinks the matter may be easily 
 decided, and solves it very judiciously, by the old 
 proverb, that if his first master be still living, ' The 
 man must have his mare again.' There is nothing
 
 COFFEE-HOUSE DEBATES. 163 
 
 in my time which has so much surprised and con- 
 founded the greatest part of my honest countrymen, 
 as the present controversy between Count Rechteren 
 and Monsieur Mesnager, which employs the wise 
 heads of so many nations, and holds all the affairs of 
 Europe in suspense. 
 
 Upon my going into a coffee-house yesterday, and 
 lending an ear to the next table, which was en- 
 compassed with a circle of inferior politicians, one of 
 them, after having read over the news very attentively, 
 broke out into the following remarks. * I am afraid 
 (says he) this unhappy rupture between the footmen 
 at Utrecht will retard the peace of Christendom. I 
 wish the pope may not be at the bottom of it. His 
 HoHness has a very good hand at fomenting a division, 
 as the poor Swiss Cantons have lately experienced to 
 their cost. If Monsieur What-d'ye-call-him's domestics 
 will not come to an accommodation, I do not know how 
 the quarrel can be ended, but by a religious war.' 
 
 ' Why truly,' says a wiseacre that sat by him, * were 
 I as the king of France, I would scorn to take part with 
 the footmen of either side : here's all the business of 
 Europe stands still, because Monsieur Mesnager's man 
 has had his head broke. If Count Rectrum had given 
 them a pot of ale after it, all would have been well, 
 without any of this bustle ; but they say he is a warm 
 man, and does not care to be made mouths at.' 
 
 Upon this, one, who had held his tongue hitherto, 
 began to exert himself; declaring that he was very 
 well pleased the plenipotentiaries of our Christian 
 princes took this matter into their serious considera- 
 tion ; for that lacqueys were never so saucy and 
 pragmatical as they are now-a-days, and that he 
 U 2
 
 l64 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 should be glad to see them taken down in the treaty 
 of peace, if it might be done without prejudice to the 
 public affairs. 
 
 One, who sat at the other end of the table, and 
 seemed to be in the interests of the French king, told 
 them, that they did not take the matter right, for that 
 his most Christian Majesty did not resent this matter 
 because it was an injury done to Monsieur Mesnager's 
 footmen ; 'for (says he) what are Monsieur Mesnager's 
 footmen to him ? but because it was done to his 
 subjects. Now, (says he,) let me tell you, it would 
 look very odd for a subject of France to have a bloody 
 nose, and his sovereign not to take notice of it. He 
 is obliged in honour to defend his people against 
 hostilities ; and if the Dutch will be so insolent to a 
 crowned head, as, in anywise, to cuff or kick those who 
 are under his protection, I think he is in the right to 
 call them to an account for it.' 
 
 This distinction set the controversy upon a new 
 foot, and seemed to be very well approved by most 
 that heard it, till a little warm fellow, who declared 
 himself a friend to the house of Austria, fell most 
 unmercifully upon his Gallic Majesty, as encouraging 
 his subjects to make mouths at their betters, and 
 afterwards screening them from the punishment that 
 was due to their insolence. To which he added, that 
 the French nation was so addicted to grimace, that if 
 there was not a stop put to it at the general congress, 
 there would be no walking the streets for them in 
 a time of peace, especially if they continued masters 
 of the West Indies. The little man proceeded with 
 a great deal of warmth, declaring, that if the allies 
 were of his mind, he would oblige the French king to
 
 COFFEE-HOUSE DEBATES. 165 
 
 bum his galleys, and tolerate the Protestant religion 
 in his dominions, before he would sheath his sword. 
 He concluded with calling Monsieur Mesnager an 
 insignificant prig. 
 
 The dispute was now growing very warm, and one 
 does not know where it would have ended, had not a 
 young man of about one and twenty, who seems to 
 have been brought up with an eye to the law, taken 
 the debate into his hand, and given it as his opinion, 
 that neither Count Rechteren nor Monsieur Mesnager 
 had behaved themselves right in this affair. * Count 
 Rechteren (says he) should have made affidavit that 
 his servants had been affronted, and then Monsieur 
 Mesnager would have done him justice, by taking 
 away their liveries from them, or some other way that 
 he might have thought the most proper ; for let me 
 tell you, if a man makes a mouth at me, I am not to 
 knock the teeth out of it for his pains. Then again, 
 as for Monsieur Mesnager, upon his servant's being 
 beaten, why ! he might have had his action of assault 
 and battery. But as the case now stands, if you will 
 have my opinion, I think they ought to bring it to 
 referees.' 
 
 I heard a great deal more of this conference, but I 
 must confess with little edification ; for all I could 
 learn at last from these honest gentlemen was, that 
 the matter in debate was of too high a nature for such 
 heads as theirs, or mine, to comprehend.
 
 mjt Fiston of public €xtW. 
 
 In one of my late rambles, or rather speculations, 
 I looked into the great hall where the Bank is kept, 
 and was not a little pleased to see the directors, 
 secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of 
 that wealthy corporation, ranged in their several 
 stations, according to the parts they act in that just 
 and regular oeconomy. This revived in my memory 
 the many discourses which I had both read and 
 heard concerning the decay of public credit, with the 
 methods of restoring it, and which, in my opinion, 
 have always been defective, because they have always 
 been made with an eye to separate interests and 
 party principles. 
 
 The thoughts of the day gave my mind employment 
 for the whole night, so that I fell insensibly into a 
 kind of methodical dream, which disposed all my 
 contemplations into a vision or allegory, or what else 
 the reader shall please to call it. 
 
 Methoughts I returned to the great hall, where I 
 had been the morning before, but, to my surprise, 
 instead of the company that I left there, I saw towards 
 the upper end of the hall a beautiful virgin, seated on 
 a throne of gold. Her name (as they told me) was 
 Public Credit, The walls, instead of being adorned 
 with pictures and maps, were hung with many Acts of 
 Parliament written in golden letters. At the upper
 
 THE VISION OF PUBLIC CREDIT. 167 
 
 end of the hall was the Magna Charta, with the Act 
 of Uniformity on the right hand, and the Act of 
 Toleration on the left. At the lower end of the hall 
 was the Act of Settlement, which was placed full in 
 the eye of the virgin that sat upon the throne. Both 
 the sides of the hall were covered with such Acts of 
 Parliament as had been made for the establishment 
 of public funds. The lady seemed to set an unspeak- 
 able value upon these several pieces of furniture, 
 insomuch that she often refreshed her eye with them, 
 and often smiled with a secret pleasure as she looked 
 upon them ; but, at the same time, showed a veiy 
 particular uneasiness, if she saw anything approaching 
 that might hurt them. She appeared, indeed, infi- 
 nitely timorous in all her behaviour ; and, whether it 
 was from the delicacy of her constitution, or that she 
 was troubled with vapours, as I was afterwards told 
 by one who I found was none of her well-wishers, she 
 changed colour and startled at everything she heard. 
 She was likewise (as I afterwards found) a greater 
 valetudinarian than any I had ever met with, even in 
 her own sex, and subject to such momentary con- 
 sumptions, that, in the twinkling of an eye, she would 
 fall away from the most florid complexion, and the 
 most healthful state of body, and wither into a 
 skeleton. Her recoveries were often as sudden as her 
 decays, insomuch that she would revive in a moment 
 out of a wasting distemper, into a habit of the highest 
 health and vigour. 
 
 I had very soon an opportunity of observing these 
 quick turns and changes in her constitution. There 
 sat at her feet a couple of secretaries, who received 
 every hour letters from all parts of the world, which
 
 l68 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 the one or the other of them was perpetually reading 
 to her ; and, according to the news she heard, t<i 
 which she was exceedingly attentive, she changed 
 colour, and discovered many symptoms of health or 
 sickness. 
 
 Behind the throne was a prodigious heap of bags of 
 money, which were piled upon one another so high, 
 that they touched the ceiling. The floor, on her 
 right hand and on her left, was covered with vast 
 sums of gold that rose up in pyramids on either side 
 of her : but this I did not so much wonder at, when 
 I heard, upon inquiry, that she had the same virtue in 
 her touch, which the poets tell us a Lydian king was 
 formerly possessed of; and that she could convert 
 whatever she pleased into that precious metal. 
 
 After a little dizziness, and confused hurry of 
 thought, which a man often meets with in a dream, 
 methoughts the hall was alarmed, the doors flew open, 
 and there entered half a dozen of the most hideous 
 phantoms that I had ever seen (even in a dream) 
 before that time. They came in two by two, though 
 matched in the most dissociable manner, and mingled 
 together in a kind of dance. It would be tedious to 
 describe their habits and persons, for which reason 
 I shall only inform my reader, that the first couple 
 were Tyranny and Anarchy ; the second were Bigotry 
 and Atheism ; the third, the genius of a common- 
 wealth and a young man of about twenty-two years of 
 age, whose name I could not learn. He had a sword 
 in his right hand, which in the dance he often bran- 
 dished at the Act of Settlement ; and a citizen, who 
 stood by me, whispered in my ear, that he saw a 
 spunge in his left hand. The dance of so many
 
 THE VISION OF PUBLIC CREDIT. 169 
 
 jarring natures put me in mind of the sun, moon, and 
 earth, in the Rehearsal, that danced together for no 
 other end but to eclipse one another. 
 
 The reader will easily suppose, by what has been 
 before said, that the lady on the throne would have 
 been almost frighted to distraction, had she seen but 
 any one of these spectres ; what then must have been 
 her condition when she saw them all in a body? She 
 fainted and died away at the sight. 
 
 Et neque jam color est misto candore rubori ; 
 Nee vigor, et vires, et quK mode visa placebant ; 
 Nee corpus remanet — Ov. Met. lib. iii. 
 
 There was a great change in the hill of money bags 
 and the heaps of money ; the former shrinking, and 
 falling into so many empty bags, that I now found not 
 above a tenth part of them had been filled with money. 
 The rest that took up the same space, and made the 
 same figure as the bags that were really filled with 
 money, had been blown up with air, and called into 
 my memory the bags full of wind, which Homer tells 
 us his hero received as a present from yEolus. The 
 great heaps of gold, on either side the throne, now 
 appeared to be only heaps of paper, or little piles of 
 notched sticks, bound up together in bundles, like 
 Bath faggots. 
 
 Whilst I was lamenting this sudden desolation that 
 had been made before me, the whole scene vanished : 
 in the room of the frightful spectres, there now entered 
 a second dance of apparitions very agreeably matched 
 together, and made up of veiy amiable phantoms. 
 The first pair was Liberty with Monarchy at her right 
 hand ; the second was Moderation leading in Re- 
 ligion ; and the third, a person whom I had never
 
 I70 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 
 
 seen, with the genius of Great Britain. At the first 
 entrance the lady revived ; the bags swelled to their 
 former bulk ; the pile of faggots, and heaps of paper, 
 changed into pyramids of guineas : and, for my o;vn 
 part, I was so transported with joy, that I awaked ; 
 though, I must confess, I would fain have fallen asleep 
 again to have closed my vision, if I could have 
 done it.
 
 TALES AND ALLEGORIES.
 
 Sfte Fision of itttrja. 
 
 When I was at Grand Cairo I picked up several 
 oriental manuscripts, which I have still by me. Among 
 others I met with one entitled, The Visions of Mirzah, 
 which I have read over with great pleasure. I intend 
 to give it to the public when I have no other entertain- 
 ment for them ; and shall begin with the first vision, 
 which I have translated word for word as follows : 
 
 * On the fifth day of the moon, which according to 
 the custom of my forefathers I always kept holy, after 
 having washed myself, and offered up my morning 
 devotions, I ascended the high hills of Bagdai, in 
 order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and 
 prayer. As I was here airing myself on the tops of 
 the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on 
 the vanity of human life ; and passing from one 
 thought to another, surely, said I, man is but a shadow 
 and life a dream. Whilst I was thus musing, I cast 
 my eyes towards the summit of a rock that was not 
 far from me, where I discovered one in the habit of 
 a shepherd, with a musical instrument in his hand. 
 As I looked upon him he applied it to his lips, and 
 began to play upon it. The sound of it was exceeding 
 sweet, and wrought into a variety of tunes that were 
 inexpressibly melodious, and altogether different from 
 anything I had ever heard. They put me in mind of 
 those heavenly airs that are played to the departed
 
 174 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 souls of good men upon their first arrival in paradise, 
 to wear out the impressions of their last agonies, and 
 qualify them for the pleasures of that happy place. 
 My heart melted away in secret raptures. 
 
 I had been often told that the rock before me was 
 the haunt of a genius ; and that several had been 
 entertained with music who had passed by it, but 
 never heard that the musician had before made him- 
 self visible. When he had raised my thoughts, by 
 those transporting airs which he played, to taste the 
 pleasures of his conversation, as I looked upon him 
 like one astonished, he beckoned to me, and by the 
 waving of his hand directed me to approach the place 
 where he sat, I drew near with that reverence which 
 is due to a superior nature ; and as my heart was 
 entirely subdued by the captivating strains I had 
 heard, I fell down at his feet and wept. The genius 
 smiled upon me with a look of compassion and 
 affability that familiarized him to my imagination, and 
 at once dispelled all the fears and apprehensions with 
 which I approached him. He lifted me from the 
 ground, and taking me by the hand, Mirzah, said he, 
 I have heard thee in thy soliloquies, follow me. 
 
 He then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock, 
 and placed me on the top of it. Cast thy eyes east- 
 ward, said he, and tell me what thou seest. I see, 
 said I, a huge valley and a prodigious tide of water 
 rolling through it. The valley that thou seest, said 
 he, is the vale of misery, and the tide of water that 
 thou seest is part of the great tide of eternity. What 
 is the reason, said I, that the tide I see rises out of 
 a thick mist at one end, and again loses itself in a 
 thick mist at the other ? What thou seest, says he, is
 
 THE VISION OF MIRZA. 175 
 
 that portion of eternity which is called time, measured 
 out by the sun, and reaching from the beginning of 
 the world to its consummation. Examine now, said 
 he, this sea that is thus bounded with darkness at 
 both ends, and tell me what thou discoverest in it. 
 I see a bridge, said I, standing in the midst of the 
 tide. The bridge thou seest, said he, is human life ; 
 consider it attentively. Upon a more leisurely survey 
 of it, I found that it consisted of threescore and ten 
 entire arches, with several broken arches, which added 
 to those that were entire, made up the number about 
 an hundred. As I was counting the arches the genius 
 told me that this bridge consisted at first of a thousand 
 arches ; but that a great flood swept away the rest, 
 and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now 
 beheld it. But tell me, further, said he, what thou 
 discoverest on it. I see multitudes of people passing 
 over it, said I, and a black cloud hanging on each end 
 of it. As I looked more attentively, I saw several of 
 the passengers dropping through the bridge, into the 
 great tide that flowed underneath it ; and upon further 
 examination, perceived there were innumerable trap- 
 doors that lay concealed in the bridge, which the 
 passengers no sooner trod upon, but they fell through 
 them into the tide and immediately disappeared. 
 These hidden pit-falls were set very thick at the 
 entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of people no 
 sooner broke through the cloud, but many of them fell 
 into them. They grew thinner towards the middle, 
 but multiplied and lay closer together towards the end 
 of the arches that were entire. 
 
 There were indeed some persons, but their number 
 was very small, that continued a kind of hobbling
 
 176 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 march on the broken arches, but fell through one after 
 another, being quite tired and spent with so long a 
 walk. 
 
 I passed some time in the contemplation of this 
 wonderful structure, and the great variety of objects 
 which it presented. My heart was filled with a deep 
 melancholy to see several dropping unexpectedly in 
 the midst of mirth and jollity, and catching at every- 
 thing that stood by them to save themselves. Some 
 were looking up towards the heavens in a thoughtful 
 posture, and in the midst of a speculation stumbled 
 and fell out of sight. Multitudes were very busy in 
 the pursuit of baubles that glittered in their eyes and 
 danced before them, but often when they thought 
 themselves within the reach of them, their footing 
 failed and down they sunk. In this confusion of 
 objects, I observed some with scimetars in their hands, 
 and others with urinals, who ran to and fro upon the 
 bridge, thrusting several persons upon trap-doors 
 which did not seem to lie in their way, and which 
 they might have escaped, had they not been thus 
 forced upon them. 
 
 The genius seeing me indulge myself in this 
 melancholy prospect, told me I had dwelt long enough 
 upon it : take thine eyes off the bridge, said he, and 
 tell me if thou seest anything thou dost not com- 
 prehend. Upon looking up, what mean, said I, those 
 great flights of birds that are perpetually hovering about 
 the bridge, and settling upon it from time to time ? I 
 see vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants, and among 
 many other feathered creatures, several little winged 
 boys, that perch in great numbers upon the middle 
 arches. These, said the genius, are envy, avarice,
 
 THE VISION OF MIRZA. I77 
 
 superstition, despair, love, with the Hke cares and 
 passions, that infest human hfe. 
 
 I here fetched a deep sigh ; alas, said I, man was 
 made in vain ! How is he given away to misery and 
 mortality ! tortured in life, and swallowed up in death ! 
 The genius, being moved with compassion towards 
 me, bid me quit so uncomfortable a prospect. Look 
 no more, said he, on man in the first stage of his 
 existence, in his setting out for eternity ; but cast thine 
 eye on that thick mist into which the tide bears the 
 several generations of mortals that fall into it. I 
 directed my sight as I was ordered, and (whether or 
 no the good genius strengthened it with any super- 
 natural force, or dissipated part of the mist that was 
 before too thick for the eye to penetrate) I saw the 
 valley opening at the farther end, and spreading forth 
 into an immense ocean, that had a huge rock of 
 adamant running through the midst of it, and dividing 
 it into two equal parts. The clouds still rested on one 
 half of it, insomuch that I could discover nothing in 
 it : but the other appeared to me a vast ocean planted 
 with innumerable islands, that were covered with fruits 
 and flowers, and interwoven with a thousand little 
 shining seas that ran among them. I could see 
 persons dressed in glorious habits with garlands upon 
 their heads, passing among the trees, lying down by 
 the sides of the fountains, or resting on beds of 
 flowers ; and could hear a confused harmony of sing- 
 ing birds, falling waters, human voices, and musical 
 instruments. Gladness grew in me upon the discovery 
 of so delightful a scene. I wished for the wings of an 
 eagle, that I might fly away to those happy seats ; but 
 the genius told me there was no passage to them, 
 N
 
 178 TALES AND ALLEGORIES, 
 
 except through the gates of death that I saw opening 
 every moment upon the bridge. The islands, said he, 
 that he so fresh and green before thee, and with which 
 the whole face of the ocean appears spotted as far as 
 thou canst see, are more in number than the sands on 
 the sea-shore ; there are myriads of islands behind 
 those which thou here discoverest, reaching farther 
 than thine eye, or even thine imagination, can extend 
 itself. These are the mansions of good men after 
 death, who, according to the degree and kinds of 
 virtue in which they excelled, are distributed among 
 these several islands, which abound with pleasures of 
 different kinds and degrees, suitable to the relishes 
 and perfections of those who are settled in them : 
 every island is a paradise, accommodated to its respec- 
 tive inhabitants. Are not these O Mirzah, habitations 
 worth contending for ? Does life appear miserable, 
 that gives thee opportunities of earning such a reward ? 
 Is death to be feared, that will convey thee to so 
 happy an existence .'' Think not man was made in 
 vain, who has such an eternity reserved for him. I 
 gazed with inexpressible pleasure on these happy 
 islands. At length, said I, show me now, I beseech 
 thee, the secrets that lie hid under those dark clouds 
 which cover the ocean on the other side of the rock 
 of adamant. The genius making me no answer, I 
 turned about to address myself to him a second time, 
 but I found that he had left me. I then turned again 
 to the vision which I had been so long contemplating, 
 but, instead of the rolling tide, the arched bridge, and 
 the happy islands, I saw nothing but the long hollow 
 valley of Ragdat, with oxen, sheep, and camels grazing 
 upon the sidcb of it.'
 
 ^f\t ^nk of i^arraton. 
 
 The Americans believe that all creatures have souls, 
 not only men and women, but brutes, vegetables, nay, 
 even the most inanimate things, as stocks and stones. 
 They believe the same of all the works of art, as of 
 knives, boats, looking-glasses : and that as any of 
 these things perish, their souls go into another world, 
 which is habited by the ghosts of men and women. 
 For this reason they always place by the corpse of 
 their dead friend a bow and arrows, that he may 
 make use of the souls of them in the other world, as 
 he did of their wooden bodies in this. How absurd 
 soever such an opinion as this may appear, our 
 European philosophers have maintained several no- 
 tions altogether as improbable. Some of Plato's fol- 
 lowers in particular, when they talk of the world of 
 ideas, entertain us with substances and beings no less 
 extravagant and chimerical. Many Aristotelians have 
 likewise spoken as unintelligibly of their substantial 
 forms. I shall only instance Albertus Magnus, who 
 in his dissertation upon the loadstone, observing that 
 fire will destroy its magnetic virtues, tells us that he 
 took particular notice of one as it lay glowing amidst 
 an heap of burning coals, and that he perceived a 
 certain blue vapour to arise from it, which he believed 
 might be the substantial form, that is, in our West 
 Indian phrase, the soul of the loadstone. 
 N 2
 
 l8o TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 There is a tradition among the Americans, that one 
 of their countrymen descended in a vision to the great 
 repository of souls, or, as we call it here, to the other 
 world ; and that upon his return he gave his friends 
 a distinct account of everything he saw among those 
 regions of the dead. A friend of mine, whom I have 
 formerly mentioned, prevailed upon one of the inter- 
 preters of the Indian kings, to inquire of them, if 
 possible, what tradition they have among them of 
 this matter ; which, as well as he could learn by those 
 many questions which he asked them at several times, 
 was in substance as follows. 
 
 The visionary, whose name was Marraton, after 
 having travelled for a long space under an hollow 
 mountain, arrived at length on the confines of this 
 world of spirits ; but could not enter it by reason of a 
 thick forest made up of bushes, brambles, and pointed 
 thorns, so perplexed and interwoven with one another, 
 that it was impossible to find a passage through it. 
 Whilst he was looking about for some track or path- 
 way that might be worn in any par: of it, he saw an 
 huge lion couched under the side of it, who kept his 
 eye upon him in the same posture as when he watches 
 for his prey. The Indian immediately started back, 
 whilst the lion rose with a spring, and leaped towards 
 him. Being wholly destitute of all other weapons, he 
 stooped down to take up an huge stone in his hand : 
 but to his infinite surprise grasped nothing, and found 
 the supposed stone to be only the apparition of one. 
 If he was disappointed on this side, he was as much 
 pleased on the other, when he found the lion, which 
 had seized on his left shoulder, had no power to hurt 
 him, and was only the ghost of that ravenous creature
 
 THE TALE OF MARRATON. iSl 
 
 which it appeared to be. He no sooner got rid of his 
 impotent enemy, but he marched up to the wood, and 
 after having surveyed it for some time, endeavoured 
 to press into one part of it that was a little thinner 
 than the rest ; when again, to his great surprise, he 
 found the bushes made no resistance, but that he 
 wallced through briers and brambles with the same 
 ease as through the open air ; and, in short, that the 
 whole wood was nothing else but a wood of shades. 
 He immediately concluded, that this huge thicket of 
 thorns and brakes was designed as a kind of fence or 
 quick-set hedge to the ghosts it enclosed ; and that 
 probably their soft substances might be torn by these 
 subtle points and prickles, which were too weak to 
 make any impressions in flesh and blood. With this 
 thought he resolved to travel through this intricate 
 wood ; when by degrees he felt a gale of perfumes 
 breathing upon him, that grew stronger and sweeter 
 in proportion as he advanced. He had not proceeded 
 much farther when he observed the thorns and briers 
 to end, and give place to a thousand beautiful green 
 trees covered with blossoms of the finest scents and 
 colours, that formed a wilderness of sweets, and were 
 a kind of lining to those ragged scenes which he had 
 before passed through. As he was coming out of this 
 delightful part of the wood, and entering upon the 
 plains it enclosed, he saw several horsemen rushing 
 by him, and a little while after heard the cry of a 
 pack of dogs. He had not listened long before he 
 saw the apparition of a milk-white steed, with a young 
 man on the back of it, advancing upon full stretch 
 after the souls of about an hundred beagles that were 
 hunting down the ghost of an hare, which ran away
 
 l82 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 before them with an unspeakable swiftness. As the 
 man on the milk-white steed came by him, he looked 
 upon him very attentively, and found him to be the 
 young prince Nicharagua, who died about half a year 
 before, and by reason of his great virtues was at that 
 time lamented over all the western parts of America. 
 
 He had no sooner got out of the wood, but he was 
 entertained with such a landskip of flowery plains, 
 green meadows, running streams, sunny hills, and 
 shady vales, as were not to be represented by his own 
 expressions, nor, as he said, by the conceptions of 
 others. This happy region was peopled with in- 
 numerable swarms of spirits, who applied themselves 
 to exercises and diversions according as their fancies 
 led them. Some of them were tossing the figure of 
 a coit ; others were pitching the shadow of a bar; 
 others were breaking the apparition of a horse ; and 
 multitudes employing themselves upon ingenious 
 handicrafts with the souls of departed utensils ; for 
 that is the name which in the Indian language they 
 give their tools when they are burnt or broken. As 
 he travelled through this delightful scene, he was very 
 often tempted to pluck the flowers that rose every- 
 where about him in the greatest variety and profusion, 
 having never seen several of them in his own country ; 
 but he quickly found, that though they were objects 
 of his sight, they were not liable to his touch. He at 
 length came to the side of a great river, and being 
 a good fisherman himself, stood upon the banks of it 
 some time to look upon an angler that had taken a 
 great many shapes of fishes, which lay flouncing up 
 and down by him. 
 
 I should have told my reader, that this Indian had
 
 THE TALK OF MARRATON. 183 
 
 been formerly married to one of the greatest beauties 
 of his country, by whom he had several children. 
 This couple were so famous for their love and con- 
 stancy to one another, that the Indians to this day, 
 when they give a married man joy of his wife, wish 
 that they may live together like Marraton and Yara- 
 tilda. Marraton had not stood long by the fisherman 
 when he saw the shadow of his beloved Yaratilda, 
 who had for some time fixed her eye upon him, before 
 he discovered her. Her arms were stretched out 
 towards him, floods of tears ran down her eyes ; her 
 looks, her hands, her voice called him over to her; 
 and at the same time seemed to tell him that the river 
 was unpassable. Who can describe the passion made 
 up of joy, sorrow, love, desire, astonishment, that rose 
 in the Indian upon the sight of his dear Yaratilda ? 
 he could express it by nothing but his tears, which 
 ran like a river down his cheeks as he looked upon 
 her. He had not stood in this posture long, before he 
 plunged into the stream that lay before him ; and 
 finding it to be nothing but the phantom of a river, 
 stalked on the bottom of it till he arose on the other 
 side. At his approach Yaratilda flew into his arms, 
 whilst Marraton wished himself disencumbered of 
 that body which kept her from his embraces. After 
 many questions and endearments on both sides, she 
 conducted him to a bower which she had dressed 
 with her own hands with all the ornaments that could 
 be met with in those blooming regions. She had 
 made it gay beyond imagination, and was every day 
 adding something new to it. As Marraton stood 
 astonished at the unspeakable beauty of her habita- 
 tion, and ravished with the fragrancy that came from
 
 lS4 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 every part of it, Yaratilda told him that she was pre- 
 paring this bower for his reception, as well knowing that 
 his piety to his God, and his faithful dealing towards 
 men, would certainly bring him to that happy place, 
 whenever his life should be at an end. She then 
 brought two of her children to him, who died some 
 years before, and resided with her in the same de- 
 lightful bower ; advising him to breed up those others 
 which were still with him in such a manner, that they 
 might hereafter all of them meet together in this 
 happy place. 
 
 This tradition tells us further, that he had after- 
 wards a sight of those dismal habitations which are 
 the portion of ill men after death ; and mentions 
 several molten seas of gold, in which were plunged 
 the souls of barbarous Europeans, who put to the 
 sword so many thousands of poor Indians for the sake 
 of that precious metal : but having already touched 
 upon the chief points of this tradition, and exceeded 
 the measure of my paper, I shall not give any further 
 account of it.
 
 ®I)c CSoItJen Scales. 
 
 I WAS lately entertaining myself with comparing 
 Homer's balance, in which Jupiter is represented as 
 weighing the fates of Hector and Achilles, with a 
 passage of Virgil, wherein that deity is introduced as 
 weighing the fates of Turnus and ^neas. I then 
 considered how the same way of thinking prevailed 
 in the eastern parts of the world, as in those noble 
 passages of Scripture, where we are told, that the 
 great king of Babylon, the day before his death, had 
 been weighed in the balance, and been found wanting. 
 In other places of the holy writings, the Almighty is 
 described as weighing the mountains in scales, making 
 the weight for the winds, knowing the balancings of 
 the clouds ; and, in others, as weighing the actions of 
 men, and laying their calamities together in a balance. 
 Milton, as I have observed in a former paper, had an 
 eye to several of these foregoing instances, in that 
 beautiful description wherein he represents the arch- 
 angel and the evil spirit as addressing themselves for 
 the combat, but parted by the balance which appeared 
 in the heavens, and weighed the consequences of such 
 a battle. 
 
 These several amusing thoughts having taken pos- 
 session of my mind some time before I went to sleep, 
 and mingling themselves with my ordinary ideas,
 
 l86 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 raised in my imagination a very odd kind of vision. 
 I was, methought, replaced in my study, and seated 
 in my elbow-cliair, where I had indulged the fore- 
 going speculations, with my lamp burning by me, as 
 usual. Whilst I was here meditating on several sub- 
 jects of morality, and considering the nature of many 
 virtues and vices, as materials for those discourses 
 with which I daily entertain the public ; I saw, me- 
 thought, a pair of golden scales hanging by a chain 
 in the same metal over the table that stood before 
 me ; when, on a sudden, there were great heaps of 
 weights thrown down on each side of them. I found 
 upon examining these weights, they showed the value 
 of everything that is in esteem among men. I made 
 an essay of them, by putting the weight of wisdom in 
 one scale, and that of riches in another, upon which 
 the latter, to show its comparative lightness, imme- 
 diately 'flew up and kick'd the beam.' 
 
 But, before I proceed, I must inform my reader, 
 that these weights did not exert their natural gravity, 
 till they were laid in the golden balance, insomuch 
 that I could not guess which was light or heavy, whilst 
 I held them in my hand. This I found by several 
 instances, for upon my laying a weight in one of the 
 scales, which was inscribed by the word Eternity ; 
 though I threw in that of time, prosperity, affliction, 
 wealth, poverty, interest, success, with many other 
 weights, which in my hand seemed very ponderous, 
 they were not able to stir the opposite balance, nor 
 could they have prevailed, though assisted with the 
 weight of the sun, the stars, and the earth. 
 
 Upon emptying the scales, I laid several titles and 
 honours, with pomps, triumphs, and many weights of
 
 THE GOLDEN SCALES. 187 
 
 the like nature, in one of them, and seeing a little 
 glittering weight lie by me, I threw it accidentally 
 into the other scale, when, to my great surprise, it 
 proved so exact a counterpoise, that it kept the balance 
 in an equilibrium. This little glittering weight was 
 inscribed upon the edges of it with the word Vanity. 
 I found there were several other weights which were 
 equally heavy, and exact counterpoises to one another ; 
 a few of them I tried, as avarice and poverty, riches 
 and content, with some others. 
 
 There were likewise several weights that were of 
 the same figure, and seemed to correspond with each 
 other, but were entirely different when thrown into the 
 scales, as religion and hypocrisy, pedantry and learn- 
 ing, wit and vivacity, superstition and devotion, gravity 
 and wisdom, with many others. 
 
 I observed one particular weight lettered on both 
 sides, and upon applying myself to the reading of it, 
 I found on one side written, ' In the dialect of men,' 
 and underneath it, 'calamities;' on the other side 
 was written, * In the language of the gods,' and under- 
 neath, * BLESSINGS.' I found the intrinsic value of this 
 weight to be much greater than I imagined, for it 
 overpowered health, wealth, good-fortune, and many 
 other weights, which were much more ponderous in 
 my hand than the other. 
 
 There is a saying among the Scotch, that ' an ounce 
 of mother is worth a pound of clergy ;' I was sensible 
 of the truth of this saying, when I saw the difference 
 between the weight of natural parts and that of learn- 
 ing. The observation which I made upon these two 
 weights opened to me a new field of discoveries, for 
 notwithstanding the weight of natural parts was much
 
 l88 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 heavier than that of learning, I observed that it 
 weighed an hundred times heavier than it did before, 
 when I put learning into the same scale with it. I 
 made the same observation upon faith and morality ; 
 for notwithstanding the latter outweighed the former 
 separately, it received a thousand times more ad- 
 ditional weight from its conjunction with the former, 
 than what it had by itself. This odd phenomenon 
 showed itself in other particulars, as in wit and judg- 
 ment, philosophy and religion, justice and humanity, 
 zeal and charity, depth of sense and perspicuity of 
 style, with innumerable other particulars, too long to 
 be mentioned in this paper. 
 
 As a dream seldom fails of dashing seriousness with 
 impertinence, mirth with gravity, methought I made 
 several other experiments of a more ludicrous nature, 
 by one of which I found that an English octavo was 
 veiy often heavier than a French folio ; and by another, 
 than an old Greek or Latin author weighed down a 
 whole library of moderns. Seeing one of my Spectators 
 lying by me, I laid it into one of the scales, and flung 
 a twopenny piece in the other. The reader will not 
 inquire into the event, if he remembers the first trial 
 which I have recorded in this paper. I afterwards 
 threw both the sexes into the balance ; but as it is not 
 for my interest to disoblige either of them, I shall 
 desire to be excused from telling the result of this 
 experiment. Having an opportunity of this nature 
 in my hands, I could not forbear throwing into one 
 scale the principles of a Tory, and in the other those 
 of a Whig ; but as I have all along declared this to 
 be a neutral paper, I shall likewise desire to be silent 
 under this head also, though upon examining one of
 
 THE GOLDEN SCALES. 189 
 
 the weights, I saw the word TEKEL engraven on it 
 in capital letters. 
 
 I made many other experiments, and though I have 
 not room for them all in this day's speculation, I may 
 perhaps reserve them for another. I shall only add, 
 that upon my awaking I was sorry to find my golden 
 scales vanished, but resolved for the future to learn 
 this lesson from them, not to despise or value any 
 things for their appearances, but to regulate my esteem 
 and passions towards them according to their real and 
 intrinsic value.
 
 I^tlpa nntr ^j^alum. 
 
 HiLPA was one of the 150 daughters of Zilpah, of 
 the race of Cohu, by whom some of the learned think 
 is meant Cain. She was exceedingly beautiful, and 
 when she was but a girl of threescore and ten years of 
 age, received the addresses of several who made love 
 to her. Among these were two brothers, Harpath and 
 Shalum. Harpath, being the first-born, was master of 
 that fruitful region which lies at the foot of Mount 
 Tirzah, in the southern parts of China. Shalum (which 
 is to say the planter, in the Chinese language) pos- 
 sessed all the neighbouring hills, and that great range 
 of mountains which goes under the name of Tirzah. 
 Harpath was of a haughty, contemptuous spirit ; Sha- 
 lum was of a gentle disposition, beloved both by God 
 and man. 
 
 It is said that, among the antediluvian women, the 
 daughters of Cohu had their minds wholly set upon 
 riches ; for which reason, the beautiful Hilpa pre- 
 ferred Harpath to Shalum, because of his numerous 
 flocks and herds, that covered all the low country 
 which runs along the foot of Mount Tirzah, and is 
 watered by several fountains and streams breaking 
 out of the sides of that mountain. 
 
 Harpath made so quick a despatch of his courtship, 
 that he married Hilpa in the hundredth year of her 
 age, and being of an insolent temper, laughed to scorn
 
 HILPAH AND SHALUM. I9I 
 
 his brother Shalum for having pretended to the beau- 
 tiful Hilpa, when he was master of nothing but a long 
 chain of rocks and mountains. This so much pro- 
 voked Shalum, that he is said to have cursed his 
 brother in the bitterness of his heart, and to have 
 prayed that one of his mountains might fall upon his 
 head, if ever he came within the shadow of it. 
 
 From this time forward Harpath would never ven- 
 ture out of the valleys, but came to an untimely end in 
 the 250th year of his age, being drowned in a river as 
 he attempted to cross it. This river is called, to this 
 day, from his name who perished in it, the river Har- 
 path, and what is very remarkable, issues out of one 
 of those mountains which Shalum wished might fall 
 upon his brother, when he cursed him in the bitterness 
 of his heart. 
 
 Hilpa was in the i6oth year of her age at the death 
 of her husband, having brought him but fifty children, 
 before he was snatched away, as has been already re- 
 lated. Many of the antediluvians made love to the 
 young widow, though no one was thought so likely to 
 succeed in her affections as her first lover Shalum, 
 who renewed his court to her about ten years after 
 the death of Harpath ; for it was not thought decent 
 in those days that a widow should be seen by a man 
 within ten years after the decease of her husband. 
 
 Shalum, falling into a deep melancholy, and re- 
 solving to take away that objection which had been 
 raised against him when he made his first addresses 
 to Hilpa, began, immediately after her marriage with 
 Harpath, to plant all that mountainous region which 
 fell to his lot in the division of this country. He knew 
 how to adapt ever)^ plant to its proper soil, and is
 
 192 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 thought to have inherited many traditional secrets of 
 that art from the first man. This employment turned 
 at length to his profit as well as to his amusement : 
 his mountains were in a few years shaded with young 
 trees, that gradually shot up into groves, woods, and 
 forests, intermixed with walks, and lawns, and gardens ; 
 insomuch that the whole region, from a naked and de- 
 solate prospect, began now to look like a second Para- 
 dise. The pleasantness of the place, and the agreeable 
 disposition of Shalum, who was reckoned one of the 
 mildest and wisest of all who lived before the flood, 
 drew into it multitudes of people who were perpetually 
 employed in the sinking of wells, the digging of 
 trenches, and the hollowing of trees, for the better 
 distribution of water through every part of this spacious 
 plantation. 
 
 The habitations of Shalum looked every year more 
 beautiful in the eyes of Hilpa, who, after the space of 
 70 autumns, was wonderfully pleased with the distant 
 prospect of Shalum's hills ; which were then covered 
 with innumerable tufts of trees and gloomy scenes, 
 that gave a magnificence to the place, and converted 
 it into one of the finest landscapes the eye of man 
 could behold. 
 
 The Chinese record a letter which Shalum is said to 
 have written to Hilpa, in the eleventh year of her 
 widowhood. I shall here translate it, without depart- 
 ing from that noble simplicity of sentiments, and 
 plainness of manners, which appears in the original. 
 
 Shalum was at this time 180 years old, and 
 Hilpa 17a
 
 HILPA AND SHALUM. 
 
 193 
 
 Shalum, master of Mount Tirzah, to Hilpa, 
 mistress of the Valleys. 
 
 In the ']%Zth year of the Creation. 
 
 ' What have I not suffered, O thou daughter of 
 Zilpah, since thou gavest thyself away in marriage to 
 my rival ! I grew weaiy of the light of the sun, and 
 have been ever since covering myself with woods and 
 forests. These threescore and ten years have I be- 
 wailed the loss of thee on the tops of Mount Tirzah, 
 and soothed my melancholy among a thousand gloomy 
 shades of my own raising. My dwellings are at pre- 
 sent as the garden of God ; every part of them is filled 
 with fruits, and flowers, and fountains. The whole 
 mountain is perfumed for thy reception. Come up 
 into it, O my beloved, and let us people this spot of 
 the new world with a beautiful race of mortals ; let us 
 multiply exceedingly among these delightful shades, 
 and fill every quarter of them with sons and daughters. 
 Remember, O thou daughter of Zilpah, that the age of 
 men is but a thousand years ; that beauty is the ad- 
 miration but of a few centuries. It flourishes as a 
 mountain oak, or as a cedar on the top of Tirzah, 
 which in three or four hundred years will fade away, 
 and never be thought of by posterity, unless a young 
 wood springs from its roots. Think well on this, and 
 remember thy neighbour in the mountains.' 
 
 The letter had so good an effect upon Hilpa, that 
 she answered it in less than a twelve-month after the 
 following manner, 
 
 Hilpa, mistress of the Valleys, to Shalum, master 
 of Mount Tirzah. 
 
 In the ']?)<^th year of the Creation. 
 
 * A\Tiat have I to do with thee, O Shalum ? Thou 
 
 praisest Hilpa's beauty, but art thou not secretly 
 
 enamoured with the verdure of her meadows ? Art 
 
 thou not more affected with the prospect of her green 
 
 o
 
 194 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 valley, than thou wouldest be with the sight of her 
 person ? The lowings of my herds, and the bleatings 
 of my flocks, make a pleasant echo in thy mountains, 
 and sound sweetly in thy ears. What though I am 
 delighted with the wavings of thy forests, and those 
 breezes of perfumes which flow from the top of Tirzah : 
 are these like the riches of the valley ? 
 
 * I know thee, O Shalum ; thou art more wise and 
 happy than any of the sons of men. Thy dwellings 
 are among the cedars ; thou searchest out the diversity 
 of soils, thou understandest the influence of the stars, 
 and markest the change of seasons. Can a woman 
 appear lovely in the eyes of such a one ? Disquiet me 
 not, O Shalum ; let me alone, that I may enjoy those 
 goodly possessions which are fallen to my lot. Win 
 me not by thy enticing words. May thy trees increase 
 and multiply; mayest thou add wood to wood, and 
 shade to shade; but tempt not Hilpa to destroy thy 
 solitude, and make thy retirement populous.' 
 
 The Chinese say, that a little time afterwards she 
 accepted of a treat, in one of the neighbouring hills, 
 to which Shalum had invited her. This treat lasted 
 for two years, and is said to have cost Shalum five 
 hundred antelopes, two thousand ostriches, and a 
 thousand tun of milk ; but what most of all recom- 
 mended it, was that variety of delicious fruits and pot- 
 herbs, in which no person then living could any way 
 equal Shalum. 
 
 He treated her in the bower which he had planted 
 amidst the wood of nightingales. The wood was 
 made up of such fruit trees and plants as are most 
 agreeable to the several kinds of singing birds ; so 
 that it had drawn into it all the music of the country, 
 and was filled, from one end of the year to the other, 
 with the most agreeable concert in season. 
 
 He showed her every day some beautiful and sur-
 
 HILPA AND SHALUM. 195 
 
 prising scene in this new region of wood-lands ; and 
 as, by this means, he had all the opportunities he 
 could wish for of opening his mind to her, he suc- 
 ceeded so well, that upon her departure, she made 
 him a kind of promise, and gave him her word to 
 return him a positive answer in less than fifty years. 
 
 She had not been long among her own people in 
 the valleys, when she received new overtures, and at 
 the same time a most splendid visit, from Mishpach, 
 who was a mighty man of old, and had built a great 
 city, which he called after his own name. Every 
 house was made for at least a thousand years, nay, 
 there were some that were leased out for three lives ; 
 so that the quantity of stone and timber consumed in 
 this building is scarce to be imagined by those who 
 live in the present age of the world. This great man 
 entertained her with the voice of musical instruments, 
 which had been lately invented, and danced before 
 her to the sound of the timbrel. He also presented 
 her with several domestic utensils wrought in brass 
 and iron, which had been newly found out for the 
 convenience of life. In the mean time, Shalum grew 
 very uneasy with himself, and was sorely displeased at 
 Hilpa, for the reception which she had given to Mish- 
 pach, insomuch that he never wrote to her, or spoke 
 of her, during a whole revolution of Saturn ; but, 
 finding that this intercourse went no further than a 
 visit, he again renewed his addresses to her, who, 
 during his long silence, is said very often to have cast 
 a wishing eye upon Mount Tirzah. 
 
 Her mind continued wavering about twenty years 
 longer, between Shalum and Mishpach ; for though 
 her inclinations favoured the former, her interest 
 O 2
 
 196 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 pleaded very powerfully for the other. While her 
 heart was in this unsettled condition, the following 
 accident happened, which determined her choice. A 
 high tower of wood, that stood in the city of Mish- 
 pach, having caught fire by a flash of lightning, in a 
 few days reduced the whole town to ashes. Mishpach 
 resolved to rebuild the place, whatever it should cost 
 him ; and, having already destroyed all the timber 
 of the country, he was forced to have recourse to 
 Shalum, whose forests were now two hundred years 
 old. He purchased these woods, with so many herds 
 of cattle and flocks of sheep, and with such a vast 
 extent of fields and pastures, that Shalum was now 
 grown more wealthy than Mishpach ; and, therefore, 
 appeared so charming in the eyes of Zilpah's daughter, 
 that she no longer refused him in marriage. On the 
 day in which he brought her up into the mountains, 
 he raised a most prodigious pile of cedar, and of every 
 sweet-smelling wood, which reached above 300 cubits 
 in height : he also cast into the pile bundles of myrrh, 
 and sheaves of spikenard, enriching it with every 
 spicy shrub, and making it fat with the gums of his 
 plantations. This was the burnt-offering which Shalum 
 offered in the day of his espousals : the smoke of it 
 ascended up to heaven, and filled the whole country 
 with incense and perfume.
 
 ^Df Fi'sion of 3i»stice. 
 
 I WAS last week taking a solitary walk in the garden 
 of Lincoln's Inn, (a favour that is indulged me by 
 several of the benchers who are my intimate friends, 
 and grown old with me in this neighbourhood,) when, 
 according to the nature of men in years, who have 
 made but little progress in the advancement of their 
 fortune or their fame, I was repining at the sudden rise 
 of many persons who are my juniors, and indeed at the 
 unequal distribution of wealth, honour, and all other 
 blessings of life. I was lost in this thought, when the 
 night air came upon me, and drew my mind into a 
 far more agreeable contemplation. The heaven above 
 me appeared in all its glories, and presented me with 
 such an hemisphere of stars, as made the most agree- 
 able prospect imaginable to one who delights in the 
 study of nature. It happened to be a freezing night, 
 which had purified the whole body of air into such a 
 bright, transparent jether, as made eveiy constellation 
 visible ; and at the same time gave such a particular 
 glowing to the stars, that I thought it the richest 
 sky I had ever seen. I could not behold a scene so 
 wonderfully adorned and lighted up, (if I may be 
 allowed that expression,) without suitable meditations 
 on the Author of such illustrious and amazing objects. 
 For on these occasions, philosophy suggests motives 
 to religion, and religion adds pleasures to philosophy.
 
 198 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 As soon as I had recovered my usual temper and 
 serenity of soul, I retired to my lodgings with the 
 satisfaction of having passed away a few hours in the 
 proper employments of a reasonable creature, and 
 promising myself that my slumbers would be sweet. 
 I no sooner fell into them, but I dreamed a dream, or 
 saw a vision, (for I knew not which to call it,) that 
 seemed to rise out of my evening meditation, and had 
 something in it so solemn and serious, that I cannot 
 forbear communicating it ; though I must confess, the 
 wildness of imagination (which in a dream is always 
 loose and irregular) discovers itself too much in several 
 parts of it. 
 
 Methought I saw the azure sky diversified with the 
 same glorious luminaries which had entertained me 
 a little before I fell asleep. I was looking veiy atten- 
 tively on that sign in the heavens which is called by 
 the name of the Balance, when on a sudden there 
 appeared in it an extraordinary light, as if the sun 
 should rise at midnight. By its increasing in breadth 
 and lustre, I soon found that it approached towards 
 the earth ; and at length could discern something 
 like a shadow hovering in the midst of a gi'eat glory, 
 which in a little time after I distinctly perceived to 
 be the figure of a woman. I fancied at first it might 
 have been the Angel or Intelligence that guided the 
 constellation from which it descended ; but upon a 
 nearer view, I saw about her all the emblems with 
 which the Goddess of Justice is usually described. 
 Her countenance was unspeakably awful and majestic, 
 but exquisitely beautiful to those whose eyes were 
 strong enough to behold it ; her smiles transported 
 with rapture, her frowns terrified to despair. She
 
 THE VISION OF JUSTICE. I99 
 
 held in her hand a mirror endowed with the same 
 qualities as that which the painters put into tlie hand 
 of Truth. 
 
 There streamed from it a light, which distinguished 
 itself from all the splendours that surrounded her, 
 more than a flash of lightning shines in the midst of 
 day-light. As she moved it in her hand, it brightened 
 the heavens, the air, or the earth. When she had 
 descended so low as to be seen and heard by mortals, 
 to make the pomp of her appearance more support- 
 able, she threw darkness and clouds about her, that 
 tempered the light into a thousand beautiful shades 
 and colours, and multiplied that lustre, which was 
 before too strong and dazzling, into a variety of milder 
 glories. 
 
 In the mean time the world was in an alarm, and 
 all the inhabitants of it gathered together upon a 
 spacious plain ; so that I seemed to have all the 
 species before my eyes. A voice was heard from the 
 clouds, declaring the intention of this visit, which was 
 to restore and appropriate to every one living what 
 was his due. The fear and hope, joy and sorrow, 
 which appeared in that great assembly after this 
 solemn declaration, are not to be expressed. The 
 first edict was then pronounced, ' That all titles and 
 claims to riches and estates, or to any parts of them, 
 should be immediately vested in the rightful owner.' 
 Upon this, the inhabitants of the earth held up the 
 instruments of their tenure, whether in parchment, 
 paper, wax, or any other form of conveyance ; and as 
 the goddess moved the mirror of truth which she held 
 in her hand, so that the light which flowed from it fell 
 upon the multitude, they examined the several in-
 
 200 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 struments by the beams of it. The rays of this mirror 
 had a particular quahty of setting fire to all forgery 
 and falsehood. The blaze of papers, the melting of 
 seals, and crackling of parchments, made a very odd 
 scene. The fire very often ran through two or three 
 lines only, and then stopped ; though I could not but 
 observe, that the flame chiefly broke out among the 
 interlineations and codicils. The light of the mirror 
 as it was turned up and down, pierced into all the 
 dark corners and recesses of the universe, and by that 
 means detected many writings and records which had 
 been hidden or buried by time, chance, or design. 
 This occasioned a wonderful revolution among the 
 people. At the same time, the spoils of extortion, 
 fraud, and robbery, with all the fruits of bribery and 
 corruption, were thrown together into a prodigious 
 pile, that almost reached to the clouds, and was called 
 the Mount of Restitution ; to which all injured persons 
 were invited, to receive what belonged to them. 
 
 One might see crowds of people in tattered garments 
 come up, and change clothes with others that were 
 dressed with lace and embroideiy. Several who were 
 plums, or very near it, became men of moderate 
 fortunes ; and many others, who were overgrown in 
 wealth and possessions, had no more left than what 
 they usually spent. What moved my concern most 
 was, to see a certain street of the greatest credit in 
 Europe from one end to the other become bankrupt. 
 
 The next command was, for the whole body of 
 mankind to separate themselves into their proper 
 families : which was no sooner done, but an edict was 
 issued out, requiring all children ' to repair to their 
 true and natural fathers.' This put a great part of the
 
 THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 20I 
 
 assembly in motion ; for as the mirror was moved 
 over them, it inspired every one with such a natural 
 instinct, as directed them to their real parents. It 
 was a very melancholy spectacle to see the fathers of 
 very large families become vacant, and batchelors 
 undone by a charge of sons and daughters. You 
 might see a presumptive heir of a great estate ask 
 blessing of his coachman, and a celebrated toast pay- 
 ing her duty to a valet de chambre. Many under 
 vows of celibacy appeared surrounded with a numerous 
 issue. This change of parentage would have caused 
 great lamentation, but that the calamity was pretty 
 common ; and that generally those who lost their 
 children, had the satisfaction of seeing them put into 
 the hands of their dearest friends. 
 
 Men were no sooner settled in their right to their 
 possessions and their progeny, but there was a third 
 order proclaimed, ' That all posts of dignity and honour 
 in the universe should be conferred on persons of 
 the greatest merit, abilities, and perfection.' The 
 handsome, the strong, and the wealthy, immediately 
 pressed forward ; but not being able to bear the 
 splendour of the mirror which played upon their faces, 
 they immediately fell back among the crowd : but as 
 the goddess tried the multitude by her glass, as the 
 eagle does its young ones by the lustre of the sun, it 
 was remarkable, that every one turned away his face 
 from it, who had not distinguished himself either by 
 virtue, knowledge, or capacity in business, either mili- 
 tary or civil. This select assembly was drawn up in 
 the centre of a prodigious multitude, which was diffused 
 on all sides, and stood observing them, as idle people 
 use to gather about a regiment that are exercising
 
 202 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 their arms. They were drawn up in three bodies : 
 in the first, were men of virtue ; in the second, men 
 of knowledge ; and in the third, the men of business. 
 It was impossible to look at the first column without 
 a secret veneration, their aspects Avere so sweetened 
 with humanity, raised with contemplation, emboldened 
 with resolution, and adorned with the most agreeable 
 airs, which are those that proceed from secret habits 
 of virtue. I could not but take notice, that there were 
 many faces among them which were unknown, not 
 only to the multitude, but even to several of their 
 own body. 
 
 In the second column, consisting of the men of know- 
 ledge, there had been great disputes before they fell into 
 the ranks, which they did not do at last without positive 
 command of the goddess who presided over the as- 
 sembly. She had so ordered it, that men of the greatest 
 genius and strongest sense were placed at the head of 
 the column : behind these were such as had formed 
 their minds very much on the thoughts and writings 
 of others. In the rear of the column, were men who 
 had more wit than sense, or more learning than under- 
 standing. All living authors of any value were ranged 
 in one of these classes ; but I must confess, I was very 
 much surprised to see a great body of editors, critics, 
 commentators, and grammarians, meet with so very 
 ill a reception. They had formed themselves into a 
 body, and with a great deal of arrogance demanded 
 the first station in the column of knowledge ; but the 
 goddess, instead of complying with their request, clap- 
 ped them all into liveries, and bid them know them- 
 selves for no other but lacqueys of the learned. 
 
 The third column were men of business, and con-
 
 THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 203 
 
 sisting of persons in military and civil capacities. The 
 former marched out from the rest, and placed them- 
 selves in the front, at which the other shook their 
 heads at them, but did not think fit to dispute the 
 post with them. I could not but make several ob- 
 servations upon this last column of people ; but I 
 have certain private reasons why I do not think fit 
 to communicate them to the public. In order to fill 
 up all the posts of honour, dignity, and profit, there 
 was a draught made out of each column, of men who 
 were masters of all three qualifications in some degree, 
 and were preferred to stations of the first rank. The 
 second draught was made out of such as were pos- 
 sessed of any two of the qualifications, who were dis- 
 posed of in stations of a second dignity. Those who 
 were left, and were endowed only with one of them, 
 had their suitable posts. When this was over, there 
 remained many places of trust and profit unfilled, for 
 which there were fresh draughts made out of the 
 surrounding multitude, who had any appearance of 
 these excellencies, or were recommended by those 
 who possessed them in reality. 
 
 All were surprised to see so many new faces in the 
 most eminent dignities ; and for my own part, I was 
 very well pleased to see that all my friends either kept 
 their present posts, or were advanced to higher. 
 
 The male world were dismissed by the Goddess of 
 Justice, and disappeared, when on a sudden the whole 
 plain was covered with women. So charming a mul- 
 titude filled my heart with unspeakable pleasure ; and 
 as the celestial light of the mirror shone upon their 
 faces, several of them seemed rather persons that 
 descended in the train of the goddess, than .such who
 
 204 TALES AND ALLEGORIES, 
 
 were brought before her to their trial. The clack of 
 tongues, and confusion of voices, in this new assembly, 
 was so very great, that the goddess was forced to com- 
 mand silence several times, and with some severity, 
 before she could make them attentive to her edicts. 
 They were all sensible, that the most important affair 
 among womankind was then to be settled, which eveiy 
 one knows to be the point of place. This had raised 
 innumerable disputes among them, and put the whole 
 sex into a tumult. Every one produced her claim, 
 and pleaded her pretensions. Birth, beauty, wit, or 
 wealth, were words that rung in my ears from all parts 
 of the plain. Some boasted of the merit of their 
 husbands ; others, of their own power in governing 
 them. Some pleaded their unspotted virginity ; others, 
 their numerous issue. Some valued themselves as 
 they were the mothers, and others as they were the 
 daughters, of considerable persons. There was not a 
 single accomplishment unmentioned, or unpractised. 
 The whole congregation was full of singing, dancing, 
 tossing, ogling, squeaking, smiling, sighing, fanning, 
 frowning, and all those irresistible arts which women 
 put in practice to captivate the hearts of i-easonable 
 creatures. The goddess, to end this dispute, caused 
 it to be proclaimed, ' That every one should take 
 place according as she was more or less beautiful.' 
 This declaration gave great satisfaction to the whole 
 assembly, which immediately bridled up, and ap- 
 peared in all its beauties. Such as believed them- 
 selves graceful in their motion, found an occasion of 
 falling back, advancing forward, or making a false 
 step, that they might show their persons in the most 
 becoming air. Such as had fine necks and bosoms,
 
 THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 20$ 
 
 were wonderfully curious to look over the heads of the 
 multitude, and observe the most distant parts of the 
 assembly. Several clapped their hands on their fore- 
 heads, as helping their sight to look upon the glories 
 that surrounded the goddess, but in reality to show 
 fine hands and arms. The ladies were yet better 
 pleased when they heard, that in the decision of this 
 great controversy, each of them should be her own 
 judge, and take her place according to her own 
 opinion of herself, when she consulted her looking- 
 glass. 
 
 The goddess then let down the mirror of truth in a 
 golden chain, which appeared larger in proportion as 
 it descended and approached nearer to the eyes of 
 the beholders. It was the particular property of this 
 looking-glass to banish all false appearances, and 
 show people what they are. The whole woman was 
 represented, without regard to the usual external 
 features, which were made entirely conformable to 
 their real characters. In short, the most accom- 
 plished (taking in the whole circle of female per- 
 fections) were the most beautiful ; and the most de- 
 fective, the most deformed. The goddess so varied 
 the motion of the glass, and placed it in so many 
 different lights, that each had an opportunity of seeing 
 herself in it. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the rage, the pleasure, 
 or astonishment, that appeared in each face upon its 
 representation in the mirror : multitudes started at 
 their own form, and would have broke the glass if 
 they could have reached it. Many saw their blooming 
 features wither as they looked upon them, and their 
 self-admiration turned into a loathing and abhorrence.
 
 2o6 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 The lady who was thought so agreeable in her anger, 
 and was so often celebrated for a woman of fire and 
 spirit, was frighted at her own image, and fancied 
 she saw a fury in the glass. The interested mistress 
 beheld a harpy, and the subtle jilt a sphinx. I was 
 very much troubled in my own heart, to see such a 
 destruction of fine faces ; but at the same time had 
 the pleasure of seeing several improved, which I had 
 before looked upon as the gi-eatest master-pieces of 
 nature. I observed, that some few were so humble, 
 as to be surprised at their own charms ; and that 
 many a one, who had lived in the retirement and 
 severity of a vestal, shined forth in all the graces and 
 attractions of a siren. I was ravished at the sight 
 of a particular image in the mirror, which I think 
 the most beautiful object that my eyes ever beheld. 
 There was something more than human in her coun- 
 tenance : her eyes were so full of light, that they 
 seemed to beautify everything they looked upon. Her 
 face was enlivened with such a florid bloom, as did 
 not so properly seem the mark of health, as of immor- 
 tality. Her shape, her nature, and her mien, were 
 such as distinguished her even there where the whole 
 fair sex was assembled. 
 
 I was impatient to see the lady represented by so 
 divine an image, whom I found to be the person that 
 stood at my right hand, and in the same point of view 
 with myself. This was a little old woman, who in her 
 prime had been about five foot high, though at pre- 
 sent shrunk to about three quarters of that measure. 
 Her natural aspect was puckered up with wrinkles, 
 and her head covered with grey hairs. I had ob- 
 served all along an innocent cheerfulness in her face,
 
 THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 207 
 
 which was now heightened into rapture as she beheld 
 herself in the glass. It was an odd circumstance in 
 my dream, (but I cannot forbear relating it,) I con- 
 ceived so great an inclination towards her, that I had 
 thoughts of discoursing her upon the point of mar- 
 riage, when on a sudden she was carried from me; 
 for the word was now given, that all who were pleased 
 with their own images, should separate, and place 
 themselves at the head of their sex. 
 
 This detachment was afterwards divided into three 
 bodies, consisting of maids, wives, and widows : the 
 wives being placed in the middle, with the maids on 
 the right, and widows on the left ; though it was with 
 difficulty that these two last bodies were hindered 
 from falling into the centre. This separation of those, 
 who liked their real selves, not having lessened the 
 number of the main body so considerably as it might 
 have been wished, the goddess, after having drawn 
 up her mirror, thought fit to make new distinctions 
 among those who did not like the figure which they 
 saw in it. She made several wholesome edicts, which 
 are slipped out of my mind ; but there were two 
 which dwelt upon me, as being very extraordinary in 
 their kind and executed with great severity. Their 
 design was, to make an example of two extremes in 
 the female world ; of those who are very severe on 
 the conduct of others, and of those who are very 
 regardless of their own. The first sentence, therefore, 
 the goddess pronounced, was, ' That all females ad- 
 dicted to censoriousness and detraction, should lose 
 the use of speech ;' a punishment which would be 
 the most grievous to the offender, and (what should 
 be the end of all punishments) effectual for rooting
 
 2o8 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 
 
 out the crime. Upon this edict, which was as soon 
 executed as published, the noise of the assembly very 
 considerably abated. It was a melancholy spectacle, 
 to see so many who had the reputation of rigid virtue 
 struck dumb. A lady who stood by me, and saw my 
 concern, told me, she wondered how I could be con- 
 cerned for sucJi a pack of . I found, by the 
 
 shaking of her head, she was going to give me their 
 characters ; but by her saying no more, I perceived 
 she had lost the command of her tongue. This 
 calamity fell very heavy upon that part of women who 
 are distinguished by the name of Prudes, a courtly 
 word for female hypocrites, who have a short way to 
 being virtuous, by showing that others are vicious. 
 The second sentence was then pronounced against 
 the loose part of the sex, ' That all should immediately 
 be pregnant, who in any part of their lives had ran 
 the hazard of it.' This produced a very goodly ap- 
 pearance, and revealed so many misconducts, that 
 made those who were lately struck dumb, repine more 
 than ever at their want of utterance, though at the 
 same time (as afflictions seldom come single) many of 
 the mutes were also seized with this new calamity. 
 
 This vision lasted till my usual hour of waking, 
 which I did with some surprise, to find myself alone, 
 after having been engaged almost a whole night in so 
 prodigious a multitude. I could not but reflect with 
 wonder at the partiality and extravagance of my 
 vision ; which, according to my thoughts, has not 
 done justice to the sex. If virtue in men is more 
 venerable, it is in women more lovely ; which Milton 
 has very finely expressed in his Paradise Lost, where 
 Adam, speaking of Eve, after having asserted his own
 
 THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 209 
 
 pre-eminence, as being first in creation and internal 
 faculties, breaks out into the following rapture : 
 
 — Yet when I approach 
 Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, 
 And in herself complete, so well to know 
 Her own, that what she wills to do, or say, 
 Seems wisest, virtuousest, discrcctest, best. 
 All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
 Degraded. Wisdom, in discourse with her, 
 Loses, discountenanced, and like folly shows. 
 Authority and reason on her wait. 
 As one intended first, not after made 
 Occasionally: and, to consummate all. 
 Greatness of mind, and nobleness, their seat 
 Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
 About her, as a guard angelic placed.
 
 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 P 2
 
 Insiitutfon of tfte Qtoml 
 
 I LAST winter erected a court of justice for the cor- 
 recting 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 tried, 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 myself at the head of a 
 Court of Honour. There is no court of this nature 
 anywhere at present, except in France, where, accord- 
 ing 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.
 
 214 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 As for the Court of Honour of which I am here 
 speaking, I intend to sit myself 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 Tan- 
 gereen 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, extremely well read in 
 romances, and grandson to one of the greatest wits in 
 Germany, who was some time master of the cere- 
 monies to the Duke of Wolfembuttel. 
 
 As for those who sit further on my right hand, as it 
 is usual in public 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 vete- 
 rans 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.
 
 INSTITUTION OF THE COURT. 215 
 
 Having given this public notice of my court, I must 
 further add, that I intend to open it on this day seven- 
 night, being Monday the twentieth instant ; and do 
 hereby invite all such as have suffered injuries and 
 affronts, that are not to be redressed by the common 
 laws of this land, whether they be short bows, cold 
 salutations, supercilious looks, unreturned smiles, dis- 
 tant 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 is 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 lie ? How a man should resent an- 
 other's staring and cocking a hat in his face ? If 
 asking pardon is an atonement for treading upon 
 one's 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 myself with a certain astrological pair of
 
 2l6 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 scales which I have contrived for this purpose. In 
 one of them I lay the injuries, in the other the repa- 
 rations. The first are represented 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 Avoirdupois, but also than such as are 
 used in Troy weight. The heaviest of those that re- 
 present the injuries, amount to but 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 public, I shall pass it over in silence.
 
 (STfiarge to t]^e ^mi^. 
 
 Extract of the Journal of the Court of Honour, 1710. 
 
 Di'cse LuncB vicesimo Noveinbris, hard nond 
 antetneridiana. 
 
 The court being sat, an oath prepared by the 
 Censor was administered 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 impanelled, 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. Bickerstaffe received it, and after 
 having surveyed the breadth of the blade, and the 
 sharpness of the point, with more than ordinary at- 
 tention, 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. Bickerstaffe, after having received the com- 
 pliments on his right hand, cast his eye upon the left,
 
 2l8 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 where the whole female jury paid their respects by 
 a low curtsey, and by laying their hands upon their 
 mouths. Their fore-woman 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 Phasdrus, an 
 heathen poet, 
 
 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 public." Now 
 the advantages that may arise to the weal public 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
 
 CHARGE TO THE JURY. 219 
 
 penalties ? Are not crimes undetermined, and repara- 
 tions disproportioned ? How often have we seen the 
 lie punished by death, and the liar himself deciding 
 his own cause ; nay, not only acting the judge, but 
 the executioner ! Have we not known a box on the 
 ear more severely accounted for than manslaughter ? 
 In these extra-judicial proceedings of mankind, an 
 unmannerly jest is frequently as capital as a pre- 
 meditated murder. 
 
 ' But the most pernicious circumstance in this case 
 is, that the man who suffers the injury must put him- 
 self 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 
 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 forehead into 
 a frown, toss up his arm, or pish at what we say ; and 
 must the villain live after it ? Is there no redress for
 
 220 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 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 cogni- 
 zance of higher courts of justice. In the same manner, 
 our court of honour is appointed for the examination 
 of several niceties and punctilios that do not pass for 
 wrongs in the eye of our common laws. But, not- 
 withstanding no legislators of any nation have taken 
 into consideration these little circumstances, they are 
 such as often lead to crimes big enough for their in- 
 spection, though they come before them too late for 
 their redress. 
 
 * Besides, I appeal to you, ladies, [here Mr. Bicker- 
 staffe 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 in- 
 genuously, did you never lose a morning'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. 
 
 ' I come now to the second part of my discourse, 
 which obliges me to address myself 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
 
 CHARGE TO THE JURY. 221 
 
 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 impartiahty 
 in your verdicts and judgments. 
 
 * I must in the next place address myself 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 peace- 
 able 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 
 instantly order him to be stripped of his gown, and 
 thrown over the bar.'
 
 Srial of punctilios. 
 
 The proceedings of the Court of Honour, held in 
 Sheer Lane, on Monday, the 20th of November, 
 1710, before Isaac Bickerstaffe, Esq., Censor of 
 Great Britain. 
 
 Peter Plumb, of London, merchant, was indicted 
 by the Honourable Mr. Thomas Gules, of Gule Hall, 
 in the county 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 impos- 
 sible for Mr. Gules to recover it again at his taking 
 leave of him. The prosecutor alleged, 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 anything 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 nutcrackers, in which he only worked for his diver-
 
 TRIAL OF PUNCTILIOS. 223 
 
 sion, in order to make a present now and then to his 
 friends. The prisoner being asked what he could say 
 for himself, cast several reflections upon the Honour- 
 able Mr, Gules : as, that he was not worth a groat ; 
 that nobody in the city would trust him for a half- 
 penny ; that he owed him money which he had pro- 
 mised 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 public. This sort of 
 language was very severely reprimanded by the 
 Censor, who told the criminal, that he spoke in con- 
 tempt 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 
 counsel, 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 Irishman who deposed, that he had 
 heard him cough three and twenty times that morning. 
 And as for the wall, it was alleged, 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 of opinion, that the defence 
 made by the prisoner's counsel did rather aggravate 
 than extenuate his crime ; that the motions and in- 
 timations of the hat were a token of superiority in 
 conversation, and therefore not to be used by the
 
 224 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 criminal to a man of the prosecutor's quality, who was 
 likewise vested with a double title to the wall at the 
 time of their conversation, both as it was the upper 
 hand, and as it was a shelter from the weather. The 
 evidence being very full and clear, the jury, without 
 going out of court, declared their opinion unanimously 
 by the mouth of their foreman, that the prosecutor 
 was bound in honour to make the sun shine through 
 the criminal, or, as they afterwards explained them- 
 selves, to whip him through the lungs. 
 
 The Censor knitting his brows into a frown, and 
 looking very sternly upon the jury, after a little 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 con- 
 sultation, 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 reputa- 
 tion among his neighbours, and that his taking the 
 wall was only se defcndendo, 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. Bickerstaffe, smiling upon the court, told them, 
 that he thought the punishment, even under its pre- 
 sent 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
 
 TRIAL OF PUNCTILIOS. 225 
 
 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 Plumbs, should 
 hereafter appear in the streets of London out of their 
 coaches, that so the foot-way might be left open and 
 undisturbed for their betters. 
 
 Dathan, a peddling Jew, and T. R — , a Welshman, 
 were indicted by the keeper of an alehouse in West- 
 minster, for breaking the peace 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 show 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. Bickerstaffe seemed 
 very much inclined to give sentence against Dathan, 
 as being a Jew, but finding reasons, by some ex- 
 pressions 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 
 Q
 
 226 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 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 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 lie. 
 Richard Newman had nothing more to say for him- 
 self, than that he intended no such thing, and threw 
 himself upon the mercy of the court. The jury brought 
 in their verdict special. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstafife stood up, and after having cast his 
 eyes over the whole assembly, hemmed 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 lie being given by 
 construction, implication, or induction, but by the 
 sole use of the word itself. He then proceeded to 
 show the great mischiefs that had arisen to the 
 Enghsh nation from that pernicious monosyllable ; 
 that it had bred the most fatal quarrels between the 
 dearest friends ; that it had frequently thinned the 
 guards, and made great havoc in the army; that it 
 had sometimes weakened the city trained-bands ; and, 
 in a word, had destroyed many of the bravest men in
 
 TRIAL OF PUNCTILIOS. 227 
 
 the isle of Great Britain. For the prevention of which 
 evils for the future, he instructed the jury to ' present ' 
 the word itself as a nuisance 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. 
 
 Q2
 
 (JTases of Jpalse BcltCHCg. 
 
 A Continuation of the Journal of the Court of Honour, 
 held in Sheer Lane, on Monday, the 27th of No- 
 vember, before Isaac Bickerstaffe, Esq., Censor of 
 Great Britain. 
 
 Elizabeth Makebate, of the parish of St. Cathe- 
 rine's, spinster, was indicted for surreptitiously taking 
 away the hassoc 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 curtsey to a person of quality 
 in a neighbouring pew, the criminal conveyed away 
 the hassoc by stealth, insomuch that the prosecutor 
 was obliged to sit all the whole while she was at 
 church, or to say her prayers in a posture that did 
 not become a woman of her quality. The prisoner 
 pleaded inadvertency ; and the jury were going to 
 bring it in chancemedley, 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 scowered, to the great grief and detriment of the 
 said Mary Doelittle. There were likewise many evi- 
 dences produced against the criminal, that though she 
 never failed to come to church on Sunday, she was a
 
 CASES OF FALSE DELICACY. 229 
 
 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 hassoc 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. 
 Bickerstaffe's right hand stood up, and made a mo- 
 tion 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 inconveniences 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 
 entered in the books, and considered at a more con- 
 venient time. 
 
 Charles Cambrick, Linen-draper, in the city of 
 Westminster, was indicted for speaking obscenely to 
 the Lady Penelope Touchwood. It appeared, that 
 the prosecutor and her woman going in a 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 alleged, * 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 Hammer-
 
 230 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 smith, 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 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 ideas, the word linen 
 implied many things that were not proper to be stirred 
 up in the mind of a woman who was of the prose- 
 cutor's quality, and therefore gave it as their verdict, 
 that the linen-draper should lose his tongue. Mr. 
 BickerstafTe 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 linen- 
 draper 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 Calli- 
 coat did, by his silence and his smiles, seem to ap- 
 prove 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 Cam- 
 brick, and by his post obliged to smile at everything 
 that the other should be pleased to say : upon which 
 he was acquitted.
 
 CASES OF FALSE DELICACY. 23 1 
 
 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 grati- 
 tude. The prosecutor urged, that this might blast 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 be- 
 friended 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 in- 
 dicted 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 pre- 
 sume 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 falsehood? 'Do you 
 see (says he) any lilies or roses in her cheeks, any 
 bloom, any probability ?' — The prosecutor, not able
 
 232 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 to bear such language any longer, told him, that he 
 talked like a blind old fool, and that she was ashamed 
 to have entertained any opinion of his wisdom : but 
 she was put to silence, and sentenced to wear her 
 mask for five months, and not presume to show her 
 face till the town should be empty. 
 
 Benjamin Buzzard, Esq., was indicted having told 
 the Lady Everbloom at a public 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.
 
 ®vial of Hatifes' ^imrrels. 
 
 Timothy Treatall, Gent, was indicted by several 
 ladies of his sister's acquaintance for a very rude 
 affront offered to them at an entertainment, to which 
 he had invited them on Tuesday the yth 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 
 indictment added, that this produced an unspeakable 
 confusion in the company ; for that the ladies, who 
 before had pressed together for a place 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 insolence to clap herself 
 down at the very lowest place of the table ; that the 
 widow Partlett seated herself on the right hand of 
 Mrs. Frontly, alleging for her excuse, that no cere- 
 mony was to be used at a round table ; that Mrs. 
 Fidget 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
 
 234 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 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 con- 
 fusion to behold several mothers of families among 
 her inferiors. The criminal alleged 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, 
 
 Rebecca Shapely, spinster, was indicted by Mrs. 
 Sarah Smack, for speaking many words reflecting 
 upon her reputation, and the heels of her silk slippers, 
 which the prisoner had maliciously suggested to be 
 two inches higher than they really were. The pro- 
 secutor urged, as an aggravation of her guilt, that the 
 prisoner was herself 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.
 
 TRIAL OF LADIES' QUARRELS. 235 
 
 William Trippitt, Esq., 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 entered 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, peri- 
 wigs, and snuff-boxes, in order to qualify himself for 
 that employment, and in hopes of making his fortune 
 by it. The counsel for the defendant replied, 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 cashiered 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 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 expense of in her service. 
 
 The Lady Townly brought an action of debt against 
 Mrs. Flambeau, for that 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 alleged had been made on a Monday, 
 which she knew was a day on which Mrs. Flambeau
 
 236 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 was always abroad, having set aside that only day in 
 the week to mind the affairs of her family; that the 
 servant who inquired 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 
 were 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 con- 
 stitute 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 only under covert, and not liable to any 
 debts contracted when she was a single woman. 
 Mr. Bickerstaffe 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 Leer brought her action against Richard 
 Sly, for having broken a marriage contract, and 
 wedded another woman, after he had engaged him- 
 self to marry the said Winifred Leer. She alleged, 
 that he had ogled her twice at an opera, 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. Bickerstaffe finding that the defendant had made 
 no further overture of love or marriage, but by looks 
 and ocular engagement ; yet at the same time con-
 
 TRIAL OF LADIES' QUARRELS. 237 
 
 sidering 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 public 
 view as a false ogler. 
 
 Upon the rising of the court, Mr. Bickerstaffe having 
 taken one of these counterfeits in the very fact, as he 
 was ogling a lady of the grand iury, 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.
 
 ^ri'al of JFnlse Affronts. 
 
 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, me- 
 thodically 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 off 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 counsel for the 
 prosecutor alleged, that the shoulder was the tenderest 
 part in a man of honour ; that it had a natural 
 antipathy to a stick, and that every touch of it, with 
 anything made in the fashion of a cane, was to be 
 interpreted as a wound in that part, and a violation 
 of the person's honour who received it. Mr. Heedless 
 replied, that what he had done was out of kindness 
 to the prosecutor, as not thinking it proper for him
 
 TRIAL OF FALSE AFFRONTS. 239 
 
 to appear at the head of the trained bands with a 
 feather upon his shoulder ; and further added, that 
 the stick he made use of on this occasion was so very 
 small, that the prosecutor could not have felt it, had 
 he broken it on his shoulders. The Censor hereupon 
 directed the jury to examine into the nature of the 
 staff, for that a great deal would depend upon that 
 particular. Upon which he explained to them the 
 different degrees of offence that might be given by the 
 touch of crab-tree from that of cane, and by the touch 
 of cane from that of a plain hazel stick. The jury, 
 after a short perusal of the staff, declared their opinion 
 by the mouth of their foreman, that the substance of 
 the staff was British oak. The Censor then observing 
 that there was some dust on the skirts of the criminal's 
 coat, ordered the prosecutor to beat it off with his 
 aforesaid oaken plant ; ' And thus, (said the Censor,) 
 I shall decide this cause by the law of retaliation : if 
 Mr. Heedless did the colonel a good office, the 
 colonel will, by this means, return it in kind ; but 
 if Mr. Heedless should at any time boast that he 
 had cudgelled the colonel, or laid his staff over his 
 shoulders, the colonel might boast in his turn, that he 
 has brushed Mr. Heedless's jacket, or (to use the 
 phrase of an ingenious author) that he has rubbed 
 him down with an oaken towel.' 
 
 Benjamin Busy, of London, merchant, was indicted 
 by Jasper Tattle, Esq., for having pulled out his watch, 
 and looked upon it thrice, while the said Esquire 
 Tattle was giving him an account of the funeral of 
 the said Esquire Tattle's first wife. The prisoner 
 alleged in his defence, that he was going to buy 
 stocks at the time when he met the prosecutor : and
 
 240 COURT OF HONOUR. 
 
 that, during the story of the prosecutor, the said 
 stocks rose 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 hindered one of the prisoner's 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. Bickerstaffe 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 fine 
 upon him for every quarter of an hour's impertinence, 
 and regulate the said fine according as 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 sixth instant, 
 at the play-house in the Haymarket. The prisoner 
 denied the receipt of any such bow, and alleged in his 
 defence, that the prosecutor would oftentimes look 
 full in his face, but that when he bowed to the said 
 prosecutor, he would take no notice of it, or bow to 
 somebody else that sat quite on the other side of him. 
 He likewise alleged, that several ladies had complained
 
 TRIAL OF FALSE AFFRONTS. 241 
 
 of the prosecutor, who, after ogHng them a quarter of 
 an hour, upon their making a curtsey to him, would 
 not return the civility of a bow. The Censor ob- 
 serving several glances of the prosecutor's eye, and 
 perceiving, that when he talked to the court he looked 
 upon the jury, found reason to suspect that there was 
 a wrong cast in his sight, which upon examination 
 proved true. The Censor therefore ordered the prisoner 
 (that he might not produce any more confusions in 
 public assembhes) never to bow to anybody whom he 
 did not at the same time call to by his name. 
 
 Oliver Bluff, and Benjamin Browbeat, were indicted 
 for going to fight a duel since the erection of the 
 Court of Honour. It appeared, that they were both 
 taken up in the street as they passed by the court, in 
 their way to the fields behind Montague House. The 
 criminals would answer nothing for themselves, but 
 that they were going to execute a challenge which had 
 been made above a week before the Court of Honour 
 was erected. The Censor finding some reasons to 
 suspect, (by the sturdiness of their behaviour,) that 
 they were not so very brave as they would have the 
 court believe them, ordered them both to be searched 
 by the grand jury, who found a breast-plate upon the 
 one, and two quires of paper upon the other. The 
 breast-plate was immediately ordered to be hung upon 
 a peg over Mr. Bickerstafife's tribunal, and the paper 
 to be laid upon the table for the use of his clerk. He 
 then ordered the criminals to button up their bosoms, 
 and, if they pleased, proceed to their duel. Upon 
 which they both went very quietly out of the court, 
 and retired to their respective lodgings.
 
 COUNTRY HUMOURS.
 
 ^i)c ^org jpoxl^unter. 
 
 For the honour of his Majesty, and the safety of 
 his government, we cannot but observe, that those 
 who have appeared the greatest enemies to both, are 
 of that rank of men, who are commonly distinguished 
 by the title of Fox-hunters. As several of these have 
 had no part of their education in cities, camps, or 
 courts, it is doubtful whether they are of greater or- 
 nament or use to the nation in which they live. It 
 would be an everlasting reproach to politics, should 
 such men be able to overturn an establishment which 
 has been formed by the wisest laws, and is supported 
 by the ablest heads. The wrong notions and prejudices 
 which cleave to many of these country gentlemen, who 
 have always lived out of the way of being better in- 
 formed, are not easy to be conceived by a person who 
 has never conversed with them. 
 
 That I may give my readers an image of these rural 
 statesmen, I shall, without further preface, set down 
 an account of a discourse I chanced to have with one 
 of them some time ago. I was travelling towards one 
 of the remote parts of England, when about three 
 o'clock in the afternoon, seeing a country gentleman 
 trotting before me with a spaniel by his horse's side, 
 I made up to him. Our conversation opened, as 
 usual, upon the weather ; in which we were very 
 unanimous ; having both agreed that it was too dry 
 for the season of the year. My fellow-traveller, upon 
 this, observed to me, that there had been no good
 
 246 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 weather since the Revolution. I was a little startled 
 at so extraordinary a remark, but would not interrupt 
 him till he proceeded to tell me of the fine weather 
 they used to have in King Charles the Second's reign. 
 I only answered that I did not see how the badness 
 of the weather could be the king's fault ; and, without 
 waiting for his reply, asked him whose house it was 
 we saw upon the rising ground at a little distance 
 from us. He told me it belonged to an old fanatical 
 cur, Mr. Such-a-one. * You must have heard of him,' 
 says he, ' he's one of the Rump.' I knew the gentle- 
 man's character upon hearing his name, but assured 
 him, that to my knowledge he was a good churchman : 
 'Ay!' says he, with a kind of surprise, 'We were told 
 in the country, that he spoke twice, in the queen's 
 time, against taking off the duties upon French claret.' 
 This naturally led us in the proceedings of late par- 
 liaments, upon which occasion he affirmed roundly, 
 that there had not been one good law passed since 
 King William's accession to the throne, except the act 
 for preserving the game. I had a mind to see him 
 out, and therefore did not care for contradicting him. 
 'Is it not hard,' says he, ' that honest gentlemen 
 should be taken into custody of messengers to prevent 
 them from acting according to their consciences ? 
 But,' says he, ' what can we expect when a parcel of 
 
 factious sons of whores ' He was going on in 
 
 great passion, but chanced to miss his dog, who was 
 amusing himself about a bush, that grew at some 
 distance behind us. We stood still till he had whistled 
 him up ; when he fell into a long panegyric upon his 
 spaniel, who seemed, indeed, excellent in his kind : 
 but I found the most remarkable adventure of his
 
 THE TORY FOXHUNTER. 247 
 
 life was, that he had once like to have worried a dis- 
 senting teacher. The master could hardly sit on his 
 horse for laughing all the while he was giving me the 
 particulars of his story, which I found had mightily 
 endeared his dog to him, and as he himself told me, 
 had made him a great favourite among all the honest 
 gentlemen of the country. We were at length diverted 
 from this piece of mirth by a post-boy, who winding 
 his horn at us, my companion gave him two or three 
 curses, and left the way clear for him. ' I fancy,' said 
 I, ' that post brings news from Scotland. I shall long 
 to see the next Gazette.' ' Sir,' says he, * I make it a 
 rule never to believe any of your printed news. We 
 never see, sir, how things go, except now and then in 
 Dyer's Letter, and I read that more for the style than 
 the news. The man has a clever pen, it must be 
 owned. But is it not strange that we should be 
 making war upon Church of England men with Dutch 
 and Swiss soldiers, men of antimonarchical principles? 
 these foreigners will never be loved in England, sir; 
 they have not that wit and good-breeding that we 
 have.' I must confess I did not expect to hear my 
 new acquaintance value himself upon these qualifi- 
 cations, but finding him such a critic upon foreigners, 
 I asked him if he had ever travelled ; he told me, he 
 did not know what travelling was good for, but to 
 teach a man to ride the great horse, to jabber French, 
 and to talk against passive obedience : to which he 
 added, that he scarce ever knew a traveller in his 
 life who had not forsook his principles, and lost his 
 hunting-seat. ' For my part,' says he, ' I and my 
 father before me have always been for passive obe- 
 dience, and shall be always for opposing a prince who
 
 248 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 makes use of ministers that are of another opinion. 
 But where do you intend to inn to-night? (for we 
 were now come in sight of the next town ;) I can help 
 you to a very good landlord if you will go along with 
 me. He is a lusty, jolly fellow, that lives well, at least 
 three yards in the girt, and the best Church of Eng- 
 land man upon the road.' I had a curiosity to see 
 this high-church inn-keeper, as well as to enjoy more 
 of the conversation of my fellow-traveller, and there- 
 fore readily consented to set our horses together for 
 that night. As we rode side by side through the 
 town, I was let into the characters of all the principal 
 inhabitants whom we met in our way. One was a 
 dog, another a whelp, another a cur, and another the 
 son of a bitch, under which several denominations 
 were comprehended all that voted on the Whig side, 
 in the last election of burgesses. As for those of his 
 own party, he distinguished them by a nod of his 
 head, and asking them how they did by their Christian 
 names. Upon our arrival at the inn, my companion 
 fetched out the jolly landlord, who knew him by his 
 whistle. Many endearments and private whispers 
 passed between them ; though it was easy to see by 
 the landlord's scratching his head that things did not 
 go to their wishes. The landlord had swelled his 
 body to a prodigious size, and worked up his com- 
 plexion to a standing crimson by his zeal for the 
 prosperity of the church, which he expressed every 
 hour of the day, as his customers dropt in, by repeated 
 bumpers. He had not time to go to church himself, 
 but, as my friend told me in my ear, had headed a 
 mob at the pulling down of two or three meeting- 
 houses. While supper was preparing, he enlarged
 
 THE TORY FOXHUNTER. 249 
 
 upon the happiness of the neighbouring shire ; ' For,' 
 says he, * there is scarce a Presbyterian in the whole 
 county, except the bishop.' In short, I found by his 
 discourse that he had learned a great deal of 
 politics, but not one word of religion, from the parson 
 of his parish ; and, indeed, that he had scarce any 
 other notion of religion, but that it consisted in 
 hating Presbyterians. I had a remarkable instance of 
 his notions in this particular. Upon seeing a poor 
 decrepit old woman pass under the window where we 
 sat, he desired me to take notice of her ; and afterwards 
 informed me, that she was generally reputed a witch 
 by the country people, but that, for his part, he was 
 apt to believe she was a Presbyterian. 
 
 Supper was no sooner served in, than he took 
 occasion from a shoulder of mutton that lay before us, 
 to cry up the plenty of England, which would be the 
 happiest country in the world, provided we would live 
 within ourselves. Upon which, he expatiated on the 
 inconveniences of trade, that carried from us the com- 
 modities of our country, and made a parcel of upstarts 
 as rich as men of the most ancient families of Eng- 
 land. He then declared frankly, that he had always 
 been against all treaties and alliances with foreigners : 
 'Our wooden walls,' says he, 'are our security, and 
 we may bid defiance to the whole world, especially 
 if they should attack us when the militia is out.' I 
 ventured to reply, that I had as great an opinion of 
 the English fleet as he had ; but I could not see how 
 they could be paid, and manned, and fitted out, unless 
 we encouraged trade and navigation. He replied, 
 with some vehemence, that he would undertake to 
 prove trade would be the ruin of the English nation.
 
 250 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 I would fain have put him upon it ; but he contented 
 himself with afifirming it more eagerly, to which he 
 added two or three curses upon the London mer- 
 chants, not forgetting the directors of the bank. After 
 supper he asked me if I was an admirer of punch ; 
 and immediately called for a sneaker. I took this 
 occasion to insinuate the advantages of trade, by 
 observing to him, that water was the only native of 
 England that could be made use of on this occasion : 
 but that the lemons, the brandy, the sugar, and the 
 nutmeg, v/ere all foreigners. This put him into some 
 confusion ; but the landlord, who overheard me, 
 brought him off, by affirming, that for constant use, 
 there was no liquor like a cup of English water, pro- 
 vided it had malt enough in it. My squire laughed 
 heartily at the conceit, and made the landlord sit 
 down with us. We sat pretty late over our punch ; 
 and, amidst a great deal of improving discourse, drank 
 the healths of several persons in the country, whom 
 I had never heard of, that, they both assured me, 
 were the ablest statesmen in the nation ; and of some 
 Londoners, whom they extolled to the skies for their 
 wit, and who, I knew, passed in town for silly fellows. 
 It being now midnight, and my friend perceiving by 
 his almanack that the moon was up, he called for his 
 horses, and took a sudden resolution to go to his 
 house, which was at three miles' distance from the 
 town, after having bethought himself that he never 
 slept well out of his own bed. He shook me very 
 heartily by the hand at parting, and discovered a 
 great air of satisfaction in his looks, that he had met 
 with an opportunity of showing his parts, and left me 
 a much wiser man than he found me.
 
 ^fi£ JFoxbuntcr at a i^asperatre. 
 
 As I was last Friday taking a walk in the park, 1 
 saw a country gentleman at the side of Rosamond's 
 pond, pulling a handful of oats out of his pocket, and 
 with a great deal of pleasure, gathering the ducks 
 about him. Upon my coming up to him, who should 
 it be but my friend the foxhunter, whom I gave 
 some account of in my former paper ! I immediately 
 joined him, and partook of his diversion, till he had 
 not an oat left in his pocket. We then made the tour 
 of the park together, when, after having entertained 
 me with the description of a decoy-pond that lay near 
 his seat in the countr}', and of a meeting-house that 
 was going to be rebuilt in a neighbouring market-town, 
 he gave me an account of some very odd adventures 
 which he had met with that morning ; and which I 
 shall lay together in a short and faithful history, as 
 well as my memory will give me leave. 
 
 My friend, who has a natural aversion to London, 
 would never have come up, had not he been sub- 
 poenaed to it, as he told me, in order to give his 
 testimony for one of the rebels, whom he knew to be 
 a very fair sportsman. Having travelled all night to 
 avoid the inconveniences of dust and heat, he arrived 
 with his guide, a little after break of day, at Charing- 
 cross ; where, to his great surprise, he saw a running 
 footman carried in a chair, followed by a waterman in
 
 252 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 the same kind of vehicle. He was wondering at the 
 extravagance of their masters, that furnished them 
 with such dresses and accomodations, when, on a 
 sudden, he beheld a chimney-sweeper conveyed after 
 the same manner, with three footmen running before 
 him. During his progress through the Strand, he met 
 with several other figures no less wonderful and sur- 
 prising. Seeing a great many in rich morning-gowns, 
 he was amazed to find that persons of quality were up 
 so early ; and was no less astonished to see many 
 lawyers in their bar-gowns, when he knew by his 
 almanack the term was ended. As he was extremely 
 puzzled and confounded in himself what all this should 
 mean, a hackney-coach chancing to pass by him, four 
 batts popped out their heads all at once, which very 
 much frighted both him and his horse. My friend, 
 who always takes care to cure his horse of such start- 
 ing fits, spurred him up to the very side of the coach, to 
 the no small diversion of the batts ; who, seeing him 
 with his long whip, horse-hair periwig, jockey belt, 
 and coat without sleeves, fancied him to be one of the 
 masqueraders on horseback, and received him with 
 a loud peal of laughter. His mind being full of idle 
 stories, which are spread up and down the nation by 
 the disafifected, he immediately concluded that all the 
 persons he saw in these strange habits were foreigners, 
 and conceived a great indignation against them, for 
 pretending to laugh at an English country-gentleman. 
 But he soon recovered out of his error, by hearing 
 the voices of several of them, and particularly of a 
 shepherdess quarrelling with her coachman, and 
 threatening to break his bones, in very intelligible 
 English, though with a masculine tone. His astonish-
 
 THE FOXHUNTER AT A MASQUERADE. 253 
 
 ment still increased upon him, to see a continued 
 procession of harlequins, scaramouches, punchinellos, 
 and a thousand other merry dresses, by which 
 people of quality distinguish their wit from that of 
 the vulgar. 
 
 Being now advanced as far as Somerset House, 
 and observing it to be the great hive whence these 
 chimeras issued forth from time to time, my friend 
 took his station among a cluster of mob, who were 
 making themselves merry with their betters. The 
 first that came out was a very venerable matron, with 
 a nose and chin that were within a very little of 
 touching one another. My friend, at the first view 
 fancying her to be an old woman of quality, out of 
 his good breeding put off his hat to her, when the 
 person, pulling off her mask, to his great surprise, 
 appeared a smock-faced young fellow. His attention 
 was soon taken off from this object, and turned to 
 another that had very hollow eyes and a wrinkled 
 face, which flourished in all the bloom of fifteen. The 
 whiteness of the lily was blended in it with the blush 
 of the rose. He mistook it for a very whimsical kind 
 of mask ; but, upon a nearer view, he found that she 
 held her vizard in her hand, and that what he saw 
 was only her natural countenance, touched up with 
 the usual improvements of an aged coquette. 
 
 The next who showed herself was a female quaker, 
 so very pretty, that he could not forbear licking his 
 lips, and saying to the mob about him, *It is ten 
 thousand pities she is not a church-woman.' The 
 quaker was followed by half a dozen nuns, who filed 
 off one after another up Catherine Street, to their re- 
 spective convents in Drury Lane.
 
 254 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 The squire, observing the preciseness of their dress, 
 began now to imagine, after all, that this was a nest 
 of sectaries ; for he had often heard that the town was 
 full of them. He was confirmed in this opinion upon 
 seeing a conjurer, whom he guessed to be the holder- 
 forth. However, to satisfy himself, he asked a porter, 
 who stood next him, what religion these people were 
 of? The porter replied, 'They are of no religion; 
 it is a masquerade.' ' Upon that, (says my friend,) I 
 began to smoke that they were a parcel of mummers;' 
 and being himself one of the quorum in his own 
 county, could not but wonder that none of the 
 Middlesex justices took care to lay some of them by 
 the heels. He was the more provoked in the spirit of 
 magistracy, upon discovering two very unseemly ob- 
 jects : the first was a judge, who rapped out a gi'eat 
 oath at his footman ; and the other a big-bellied 
 woman, avIio, upon taking a leap into the coach, mis- 
 carried of a cushion. What still gave him greater 
 offence, was a drunken bishop, who reeled from one 
 side of the court to the other, and was very sweet 
 upon an Indian queen. But his worship, in the 
 midst of his austerity, was mollified at the sight of 
 a very lovely milk-maid, whom he began to regard 
 with an eye of mercy, and conceived a particular 
 affection for her, until he found, to his great amaze- 
 ment, that the standers-by suspected her to be a 
 duchess. 
 
 I must not conclude this narrative, without mention- 
 ing one disaster which happened to my friend on this 
 occasion. Having for his better convenience dis- 
 mounted, and mixed among the crowd, he found, upon 
 his arrival at the inn, that he had lost his purse and
 
 THE FOXHUNTER AT A MASQUERADE. 255 
 
 hJs almanack. And though it is no wonder such a 
 trick should be played him by some of the curious 
 spectators, he cannot beat it out of his head, but that 
 it was a cardinal who picked his pocket, and that this 
 cardinal was a Presbyterian in disguise.
 
 CToubersion cf t^e Jpoxijunter. 
 
 I QUESTION not but most of my readers will be 
 very well pleased to hear, that my friend the fox- 
 hunter, of whose arrival in town I gave notice in 
 my last paper, is become a convert to the present 
 establishment, and a good subject to King George. 
 The motives to his conversion shall be the subject of 
 this paper, as they may be of use to other persons 
 who labour under those prejudices and prepossessions, 
 which hung so long upon the mind of my worthy 
 friend. These I had an opportunity of learning the 
 other day, when, at his request, we took a ramble 
 together, to see the curiosities of this great town. 
 
 The first circumstance, as he ingenuously confessed 
 to me, (while we were in the coach together,) which 
 helped to disabuse him, was seeing King Charles I. 
 on horseback, at Charing Cross ; for he was sure that 
 prince could never have kept his seat there, had the 
 stories been true he had heard in the country, that 
 forty-one was come about again. 
 
 He owned to me that he looked with horror on the 
 new church that is half built in the Strand, as taking 
 it, at first sight, to be half demolished : but upon 
 inquiring of the workmen, was agreeably surprised to 
 find, that instead of pulling it down, they were building 
 it up ; and that fifty more were raising in other parts 
 of the town.
 
 CONVERSION OF THE FOXHUNTER. C57 
 
 To these I must add a third circumstance, which I 
 find had no small share in my friend's conversion. 
 Since his coming to town, he chanced to look into the 
 church of St. Paul, about the middle of sermon-time, 
 where, having first examined the dome, to see if it 
 stood safe, (for the screw-plot still ran in his head.) 
 he observed, that the lord mayor, aldermen, and city 
 sword, were a part of the congregation. This sight 
 had the more weight with him, as, by good luck, 
 not above two of that venerable body were fallen 
 asleep. 
 
 This discourse held us till we came to the Tower ; 
 for our first visit was to the lions. My friend, who 
 had a great deal of talk with their keeper, inquired 
 very much after their health, and whether none of 
 them had fallen sick upon the taking of Perth, and 
 the flight of the Pretender? and hearing they were 
 never better in their lives, I found he was extremely 
 startled : for he had learned from his cradle, that the 
 lions in the Tower were the best judges of the title 
 of our British kings, and always sympathized with our 
 sovereigns. 
 
 After having here satiated our curiosity, we repaired 
 to the Monument, where my fellow-traveller, being a 
 well-breatlied man, mounted the ascent with much 
 speed and activity. 1 was forced to halt so often in 
 this perpendicular march, that, upon my joining him 
 on the top of the pillar, I found he had counted all 
 the steeples and towers which were discernible from 
 this advantageous situation, and was endeavouring to 
 compute the number of acres they stood upon. We 
 were both of us very well pleased with this part of 
 the prospect ; but I found he cast an evil eye upon 
 S
 
 253 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 several warehouses, and other buildings, that looked 
 like barns, and seemed capable of receiving great 
 multitudes of people. His heart misgave him that 
 these were so many meeting-houses, but, upon com- 
 municating his suspicions to me, I soon made him 
 easy in this particular. 
 
 We then turned our eyes upon the river, which 
 gave me an occasion to inspire him with some favour- 
 able thoughts of trade and merchandise, that had 
 filled the Thames with such crowds of ships, and 
 covered the shore with such swarms of people. 
 
 We descended very leisurely, my friend being careful 
 to count the steps, which he registered in a blank leaf 
 of his new almanack. Upon our coming to the bottom, 
 observing an English inscription upon the basis, he 
 read it over several times, and told me he could scarce 
 believe his own eyes, for that he had often heard from 
 an old attorney, who lived near him in the country, 
 that it was the Presbyterians who burned down the 
 city ; whereas, says he, this pillar positively affirms 
 in so many words, that ' the burning of this ancient 
 city was begun and carried on by the treachery and 
 malice of the Popish faction, in order to the carrying 
 on their horrid plot for extirpating the Protestant 
 religion and old English liberty, and introducing 
 Popery and slavery.' This account, which he looked 
 upon to be more authentic than if it had been in print, 
 I found, made a very great impression upon him. 
 
 We now took coach again, and made the best of 
 our way for the Royal Exchange, though I found he 
 did not much care to venture himself into the throng 
 of that place ; for he told me he had heard they were, 
 generally speaking, republicans, and was afraid of
 
 CONVERSION OF THE FOXHUNTER. 259 
 
 having his pocket picked amongst them. But he soon 
 conceived a better opinion of them, when he spied the 
 statue of King Charles II. standing up in the middle 
 of the crowd, and most of the kings in Bakers 
 Chronicle ranged in order over their heads ; from 
 whence he very justly concluded, that an antimon- 
 archical assembly could never choose such a place to 
 meet in once a day. 
 
 To continue this good disposition in my friend, after 
 a short stay at Stocks Market, we drove away directly 
 for the Mews, where he was not a little edified with 
 the sight of those fine sets of horses which have been 
 brought over from Hanover, and with the care that is 
 taken of them. He made many good remarks upon 
 this occasion, and was so pleased with his company, 
 that 1 had much ado to get him out of the stable. 
 
 In our progress to St. James's Park (for that was 
 the end of our journey) he took notice, with great satis- 
 faction, that, contrary to his intelligence in the country, 
 the shops were all open and full of business ; that 
 the soldiers walked civilly in the streets ; that clergy- 
 men, instead of being affronted, had generally the wall 
 given them ; and that he had heard the bells ring to 
 prayers from morning to night in some part of the 
 town or another. 
 
 As he was full of these honest reflections, it hap- 
 pened very luckily for us, that one of the king's 
 coaches passed by with the three young princesses in 
 it, whom by an accidental stop we had an opportunity 
 of surveying for some time ; my friend was ravished 
 with the beauty, innocence, and sweetness that ap- 
 peared in all their faces. He declared several times, 
 that they were the finest children he had ever seen in 
 S 2
 
 26o COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 all his life ; and assured me that, before this sight, if 
 any one had told him it had been possible for three 
 such pretty children to have been born out of England, 
 he should never have believed them. 
 
 We were now walking together in the Park, and as 
 it is usual for men who are naturally warm and heady, 
 to be transported with the greatest flush of good 
 nature when they are once sweetened ; he owned to 
 me very frankly, he had been much imposed upon by 
 those false accounts of things he had heard in the 
 countiy ; and that he would make it his business, 
 upon his return thither, to set his neighbours right, 
 and give them a more just notion of the present state 
 of aftairs. 
 
 What confirmed my friend in this excellent temper 
 of mind, and gave him an inexpressible satisfaction, 
 was a message he received, as we were walking 
 together, from the prisoner for whom he had given 
 his testimony in his late trial. This person having 
 been condemned for his part in the late rebellion, 
 sent him word that his Majesty had been graciously 
 pleased to reprieve him, with several of his friends, 
 in order, as it v/as thought, to give them their lives ; 
 and that he hoped before he went out of town they 
 should have a cheerful meeting, and drink health and 
 prosperity to King George.
 
 CTountrg iltanners. 
 
 The first and most obvious reflexions which arise 
 in a man who changes the city for the country, are 
 upon the different manners of the people whom he 
 meets with in those two different scenes of life. By 
 manners I do not mean m.orals, but behaviour and 
 good breeding, as they shew themselves in the town 
 and in the country. 
 
 And here, in the first place, I must observe a very 
 great revolution that has happened in this article of 
 good-breeding. Several obliging deferences, con- 
 descensions, and submissions, with many outward 
 forms and ceremonies that accompany them, were 
 first of all brought up among the politer part of man- 
 kind, who lived in courts and cities, and distinguished 
 themselves from the rustic part of the species (who 
 on all occasions acted bluntly and naturally) by such 
 a mutual complaisance and intercourse of civilities. 
 These forms of conversation by degrees multiplied, 
 and grew troublesome ; the modish world found too 
 great a constraint in them, and have therefore thrown 
 most of them aside. Conversation, like the Romish 
 religion, was so encumbered with show and ceremony, 
 that it stood in need of a reformation to retrench 
 its superfluities, and restore its natural good sense 
 and beauty. At present, therefore, an unconstrained 
 carriage, and a certain openness of behaviour, are the
 
 262 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 height of good-breeding. The fashionable world is 
 grown free and easy ; our manners sit more loose 
 upon us ; nothing is so modish as an agreeable negli- 
 gence. In a word, good-breeding shows itself most, 
 where to an ordinary eye it appears the least. 
 
 If after this we look on the people of mode in the 
 countiy, we find in them the manners of the last age. 
 They have no sooner fetched themselves up to the 
 fashion of a polite world, but the town has dropped 
 them, and are nearer to the first stage of nature, than 
 to those refinements which formerly reigned in the 
 court, and still prevail in the country. One may now 
 know a man that never conversed in the world by his 
 excess of good-breeding. A polite country squire shall 
 make you as many bows in half an hour, as would 
 serve a courtier for a week. There is infinitely more 
 to do about place and precedency in a meeting of 
 justices' wives, than in an assembly of duchesses. 
 
 This rural politeness is very troublesome to a man 
 of my temper, who generally takes the chair that is 
 next me, and walks first or last, in the front or in the 
 rear, as chance directs. I have known my friend Sir 
 Roger's dinner almost cold before the company could 
 adjust the ceremonial, and be prevailed upon to sit 
 down ; and have heartily pitied my old friend, when 
 I have seen him forced to pick and cull his guests, as 
 they sat at the several parts of his table, that he might 
 drink their healths according to their respective ranks 
 and qualities. Honest Will. Wimble, who I should 
 have thought had been altogether uninfected with cere- 
 mony, gives me abundance of trouble in this par- 
 ticular. Though he has been fishing all the morning, 
 he will not help himself at dinner till I am served.
 
 COUNTRY IsrANNERS. 263 
 
 When we are going out of the hall, he runs behind 
 me ; and last night, as we were walking in the fields, 
 stopped short at a stile till I came up to it, and upon 
 my making signs to him to get over, told me, with a 
 serious smile, that sure I believed they had no manners 
 in the country. 
 
 There has happened another revolution in the point 
 of good-breeding, which relates to the conversation 
 among men of mode, and which I cannot but look 
 upon as very extraordinary. It was certainly one of 
 the first distinctions of a well-bred man, to express 
 everything that had the most remote appearance of 
 being obscene in modest terms and distant phrases ; 
 whilst the clown, who had no such delicacy of con- 
 ception and expression, clothed his ideas in those 
 plain homely terms that are the most obvious and 
 natural. This kind of good manners was perhaps 
 carried to an excess, so as to make conversation too 
 stiff, formal, and precise ; for which reason (as hypo- 
 crisy in one age is generally succeeded by atheism in 
 another) conversation is in a great measure relapsed 
 into the first extreme ; so that at present several of 
 our men of the town, and particularly those who have 
 been polished in France, make use of the most coarse, 
 uncivilized words in our language, and utter them- 
 selves often in such a manner as a clown would blush 
 to hear. 
 
 This infamous piece of good-breeding, which reigns 
 among the coxcombs of the town, has not yet made 
 its way into the country ; and as it is impossible for 
 such an irrational way of conversation to last long 
 among a people that makes any profession of religion, 
 or show of modesty, if the country gentlemen get into
 
 264 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 it, they will certainly be left in the lurch. Their 
 good-breeding will come too late to them, and they 
 will be thought a parcel of lewd clowns, while they 
 fancy themselves talking together like men of wit and 
 pleasure. 
 
 As the two points of good-breeding, which I have 
 hitherto insisted upon, regard behaviour and con- 
 versation, there is a third which turns upon dress. 
 In this too the country are very much behindhand. 
 The rural beaus are not yet got out of the fashion 
 that took place at the time of the Revolution, but ride 
 about the country in red coats and laced hats ; while 
 the women in many parts are still trying to outvie one 
 another in the height of their head-dresses. 
 
 But a friend of mine, who is now upon the western 
 circuit, having promised to give me an account of the 
 several modes and fashions that prevail in the different 
 parts of the nation through which he passes, I shall 
 defer the enlarging upon this last topic till I have 
 received a letter from him, which I expect every 
 post.
 
 OlTcuntrj} jfnsljfcns. 
 
 Great masters in painting never care for drawing 
 people in the fashion ; as very well knowing that the 
 head-dress, or periwig, that now prevails, and gives a 
 grace to their portraitures at present, will make a very 
 odd figure, and perhaps look monstrous in the eyes of 
 posterity. For this reason they often represent an 
 illustrious person in a Roman habit, or in some other 
 dress that never varies. 1 could wish, for the sake of 
 my country friends, that there was such a kind of 
 everlasting drapery to be made use of by all who live 
 at a certain distance from the town, and that they 
 would agree upon such fashions as should never be 
 liable to changes and innovations. For want of this 
 standing dress, a man who takes a journey into the 
 country, is as much surprised as one who walks in a 
 gallery of old family pictures ; and finds as great a 
 variety of garbs and habits in the persons he con- 
 verses with. Did they keep to one constant dress, 
 they would sometimes be in the fashion, which they 
 never are as matters are managed at present. If 
 instead of running a''ter the mode, they would continue 
 fixed in one certain habit, the mode would some time 
 or other overtake them, as a clock that stands still is 
 sure to point right once in twelve hours : in this case, 
 therefore, I would advise them, as a gentleman did 
 his friend who was hunting about the whole town after
 
 266 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 a rambling fellow: If you follow him, you will never 
 find him ; but if you plant yourself at the corner of 
 any one street, I'll engage it will not be long before 
 you see him. 
 
 I have already touched upon this subject, in a 
 speculation which shows how cruelly the country are 
 led astray in following the town ; and equipped in a 
 ridiculous habit, when they fancy themselves in the 
 height of the mode. Since that speculation, I have 
 received a letter (which I there hinted at) from a 
 gentleman who is now in the western circuit. 
 
 'Mr. Spectator, 
 
 Being a lawyer of the Middle Temple, a Cornish 
 man by birth, I generally ride the western circuit for 
 my health, and as I am not interrupted by clients, 
 have leisure to make many observations that escape 
 the notice of my fellow-travellers. 
 
 ' One of the most fashionable women I met with in 
 all the circuit, was my landlady at Staines, where I 
 chanced to be on a holiday. Her commode was not 
 half a foot high, and her petticoat within some yards 
 of a modish circumference. In the same place I 
 observed a young fellow with a tolerable periwig, had 
 it not been covered with a hat that was shaped in the 
 Ramillie cock. As I proceeded on my journey, I 
 observed the petticoat grew scantier and scantier, and 
 about three-score miles from London was so very 
 unfashionable, that a woman might walk in it without 
 any manner of inconvenience. 
 
 ' Not far from Salisbury I took notice of a justice of 
 peace's lady, who was at least ten years behind-hand 
 in her dress, but at the same time as fine as hands 
 could make her. She was flounced and furbelowed 
 from head to foot ; every ribbon was wrinkled, and 
 every part of her garments in curl, so that she looked 
 like one of those aniniais which in the country we call 
 a Fi-iezeland hen.
 
 COUNTRY FASHIONS. 267 
 
 ' Not many miles beyond this place I was informed, 
 that one of the last year's little muffs had by some 
 means or other straggled into those parts, and that all 
 the women of fashion were cutting their old muffs in 
 two, or retrenching them according to the little model 
 which was got among them. I cannot believe the 
 report they have there, that it was sent down franked 
 by a parliament-man in a little packet ; but probably 
 by next winter this fashion will be at the height in the 
 country, when it is quite out at London. 
 
 * The greatest beau at our next county-sessions was 
 dressed in a most monstrous flaxen periwig, that was 
 made in king William's reign. The wearer of it goes, 
 it seems, in his own hair, when he is at home, and 
 lets his wig lie in buckle for a whole half-year, that he 
 may put it on upon occasion to meet the judges in it. 
 
 ' I must not here omit an adventure which hap- 
 pened to us in a country church upon the frontiers of 
 Cornwall. As we were in the midst of the service, a 
 lady who is the chief woman of the place, and had 
 passed the winter at London with her husband, en- 
 tered the congregation in a little head-dress, and 
 a hooped petticoat. The people, who were wonder- 
 fully startled at such a sight, all of them rose up. 
 Some stared at the prodigious bottom, and some at 
 the little top of this strange dress. In the mean time 
 the lady of the manor filled the area of the church, 
 and walked up to her pew with an unspeakable 
 satisfaction, amidst the whispers, conjectures, and 
 astonishments of the whole congregation. 
 
 ' Upon my way from hence we saw a young fellow 
 riding towards us full gallop, with a bob-wig and a 
 black silken bag tied to it. He stopt short at the 
 coach, to ask us how far the judges were behind us. 
 His stay was so very short, that we had only time to 
 observe his new silk waistcost, which was unbuttoned 
 in several places to let us see that he had a clean 
 shirt on, which was ruffled down to his middle. 
 
 'From this place, during our progress through the 
 most western parts of the kingdom, we fancied our- 
 seh^es in king Charles the second's reign, the people
 
 268 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 having made very little variations in their dress since 
 that time. The smartest of the country squires ap- 
 pear still in the Monmouth cock, and when they go 
 a wooing (whether they have any post in the militia 
 or not) they generally put on a red coat. We were, 
 indeed, very much surprised at the place we lay at 
 last night, to meet with a gentleman that had ac- 
 coutered himself in a night-cap wig, a coat with long 
 pockets and slit sleeves, and a pair of shoes with high 
 scollop tops ; but we soon found by his conversation 
 that he was a person who laughed at the ignorance 
 and rusticity of the country people, and was resolved 
 to live and die in the mode. 
 
 * Sir, if you think this account of my travels may 
 be of any advantage to the public, 1 will next year 
 trouble you with such occurrences as I shall meet 
 with in other parts of England. For I am informed 
 there are greater curiosities in the northern circuit 
 than in the western ; and that a fashion makes its 
 progress much slower into Cumberland than into 
 Cornwall. I have heard in particular, that the Steen- 
 kirk arrived but two months ago at Newcastle, and 
 that there are several commodes in those parts which 
 are worth taking a journey thither to see.' — C.
 
 (ffountri) CBtiqucttc. 
 
 When I came home last night, my servant de- 
 livered me the following letter : 
 
 'Sir, Oct. 2%. 
 
 I have orders from Sir Harry Quickset, of 
 Staffordshire, Bart., to acquaint you, that his honour 
 Sir Harry himself. Sir (iiles Wheelbarrow, Knt., 
 Thomas Rentfree, Esq., justice of the qiioriiin,K\\d\-c\v 
 Windmill, Esq., and Mr. Nicholas Doubt of the Inner 
 Temple, Sir Harry's grandson, will wait upon you at 
 the hour of nine to-morrow morning, being Tuesday 
 the 25th of October, upon business which Sir Harry 
 will impart to you by word of mouth. I thought it 
 proper to acquaint you before-hand so many persons 
 of quality came, that you might not be surprised 
 therewith. Which concludes, though by many years' 
 absence since I saw you at Stafford, unknown, 
 ' Sir, your most humble servant, 
 
 'John Thrifty.' 
 
 I received this message with less surprise than I 
 believe Mr. Thrifty imagined ; for I knew the good 
 company too well to feel any palpitations at their 
 approach : but I was in very great concern how I 
 should adjust the ceremonial, and demean myself to 
 all these great men, who perhaps had not seen any- 
 thing above themselves for these twenty years last 
 past. 1 am sure that is the case of Sir Harry. Be- 
 sides which, I was sensible that there was a great
 
 270 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 point in adjusting my behaviour to the simple squire, 
 so as to give him satisfaction, and not disoblige the 
 justice of the quorum. 
 
 The hour of nine was come this morning, and I had 
 no sooner set chairs (by the stewards' letter) and fixed 
 my tea equipage, but I heard a knock at my door, 
 which was opened, but no one entered ; after which 
 followed a long silence, which was broke at last by, 
 ' Sir, I beg your pardon ; I think I know better : ' and 
 another voice, 'Nay, good Sir Giles — ' I looked out 
 from my window, and saw the good company all with 
 their hats off, and arms spread, offering the door to 
 each other. After many offers, they entered with 
 much solemnity, in the order Mr. Thrifty was so kind 
 as to name them to me. But they are now got to my 
 chamber door, and I saw my old friend Sir Harry 
 enter. I met him with all the respect due to so 
 reverend a vegetable ; for you are to know, that is my 
 sense of a person who remains idle in the same place 
 for half a century. I got him with great success into 
 his chair by the fire, without throwing down any of 
 my cups. The knight-bachelor told me, he had a 
 great respect for my whole family, and would, with 
 my leave, place himself next to Sir Harry, at whose 
 right hand he had sat at every quarter-sessions this 
 thirty years, unless he was sick. The steward in the 
 rear whispered the young Templar, ' That is true to 
 my knowledge.' I had the misfortune, as they stood 
 cheek by jole, to desire the squire to sit down before 
 the justice of the quonon, to the no small satisfaction 
 of the former, and resentment of the latter : but I saw 
 my error too late, and got them as soon as I could 
 into their seats. ' Well, (said I,) gentlemen, after
 
 COUNTRY ETIQUETTE. 27 1 
 
 I have told you how glad I am of this great honour, 
 I am to desire you to drink a dish of tea.' They 
 answered, one and all, that ' They never drank tea in 
 a morning.' 'Not in a morning!' said I, staring 
 round me. Upon which the pert jackanapes Nick 
 Doubt tipped me the wink, and put out his tongue at 
 his grandfather. Here followed a profound silence, 
 when the steward in his boots and whip proposed 
 that we should adjourn to some public-house, where 
 everybody might call for what they pleased, and enter 
 upon the business. We all stood up in an instant, 
 and Sir Harry filed off from the left very discreetly, 
 counter-marching behind the chairs towards the door: 
 after him. Sir Giles in the same manner. The simple 
 squire made a sudden start to follow ; but the justice 
 of the quontm whipped between upon the stand of 
 the stairs. A maid going up with coals made us halt, 
 and put us into such confusion, that we stood all in a 
 heap, without any visible possibility of recovering our 
 order: for the young jackanapes seemed to make a 
 jest of this matter, and had so contrived, by pressing 
 amongst us under pretence of making way, that his 
 grandfather was got into the middle, and he knew 
 nobody was of quality to stir a step, till Sir Harry 
 moved first. We were fixed in this perplexity for 
 some time, till we heard a very loud noise in the 
 street ; and Sir Hariy asking what it was, I, to make 
 them move, said it was fire. Upon this, all run down 
 as fast as they could, without order or ceremony, till 
 we got into the street, where we drew up in very good 
 order, and filed off down Sheer Lane, the impertinent 
 Templar driving us before him, as in a string, and 
 pointing to his acquaintance who passed by.
 
 272 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 I must confess, I love to use people according to 
 their own sense of good breeding, and therefore 
 whipped in between the justice and the simple squire. 
 He could not properly take this ill ; but I overheard 
 him whisper the steward, ' That he thougln it hard 
 that a common conjurer should take place of him, 
 though an elder squire.' In this order we marched 
 down Sheer Lane, at the upper end of which I lodge. 
 When we came to Temple Bar, Sir Harry and Sir 
 Giles got over ; but a run of coaches kept the rest of 
 us on this side the street : however, we all at last 
 landed, and drew up in very good order before Ben. 
 Tooke's shop, who favoured our rallying with great 
 humanity. From hence we proceeded again, till we 
 came to Dick's Coffee-house, where I designed to 
 carry them. Here we were at our old difficulty, and 
 took up the street upon the same ceremony. We 
 proceeded through the entry, and were so necessarily 
 kept in order by the situation, that we were now got 
 into the coffee-house itself, where, as soon as we 
 arrived, we repeated our civilities to each other; after 
 which, we marched up to the high table, which has 
 an ascent to it enclosed in the middle of the room. 
 The whole house was alarmed at this entry, made up 
 of persons of so much state and rusticity. Sir Harry 
 called for a mug of ale, and Dyer's Letter. The boy 
 brought the ale in an instant : but said, they did not 
 take in the Letter. ' No ! (says Sir Harry,) then take 
 back your mug ; we are like indeed to have good 
 liquor at this house.' Here the Templar tipped me a 
 second wink, and if I had not looked very grave upon 
 him, 1 found he was disposed to be very familiar with 
 me. In short, 1 observed after a long pause, that the
 
 COUNTRY ETIQUETTE. 273 
 
 gentlemen did not care to enter upon business till 
 after their morning draught, for which reason I called 
 for a bottle of mum ; and finding that had no effect 
 upon them, I ordered a second, and a third : after 
 which, Sir Harry reached over to me, and told me in 
 a low voice, that the place was too public for business ; 
 but he would call upon me again to-morrow morning 
 at my own lodgings, and bring some more friends 
 with him.
 
 Sbe Grinning i^atcj. 
 
 In a late paper I mentioned the project of an in- 
 genious author for the erecting of several handicraft 
 prizes to be contended for by our British artisans, and 
 the influence they might have towards the improve- 
 ment of our several manufactures. I have since that 
 been very much surprised by the following advertise- 
 ment which I find in the Post-Boy of the nth instant, 
 and again repeated in the Post-Boy of the 1 5th. 
 
 ' On the 9th of October next will be run for upon 
 Coleshill Heath, in Warwickshire, a plate of six 
 guineas value, three heats, by any horse, mare, or 
 gelding, that hath not won above the value of 5/., 
 the winning horse to be sold for 10/., to carry ten 
 stone weight, if fourteen hands high ; if above or 
 under, to carry or be allowed weight for inches, and 
 to be entered Friday the I5lh at the Swan in Coles- 
 hill, before six in the evening. Also a plate of less 
 value to be run for by asses. The same day a gold 
 ring to be grinned for by men.' 
 
 The first of these diversions, that is to be exhibited 
 by the 10/. race-horses, may probably have its use ; 
 but the two last, in which the asses and men are 
 concerned, seem to me altogether extraordinary and 
 unaccountable. Why they should keep running asses 
 at Coleshill, or how making mouths turns to account 
 in Warwickshire, more than in any other parts of 
 England, I cannot comprehend. I have looked over 
 all the Olympic games, and do not find anything in
 
 THE GRINNING MATCH. 275 
 
 them like an ass-race, or a match at grinning. How- 
 ever it be, I am informed, that several asses are now 
 kept in body-clothes, and sweated every morning 
 upon the heath ; and that all the country-fellows 
 within ten miles of the Swan grin an hour or two 
 in their glasses every morning, in order to qualify 
 themselves for the 9th of October. The prize which 
 is proposed to be grinned for, has raised such an 
 ambition among the common people of out-grinning 
 one another, that many very discerning persons are 
 afraid it should spoil most of the faces in the county; 
 and that a Warwickshire man will be known by his 
 grin, as Roman Catholics imagine a Kentish man is 
 by his tail. The gold ring which is made the prize 
 of deformity, is just the reverse of the golden apple 
 that was formerly made the prize of beauty, and should 
 carry for its posie the old motto inverted, 
 
 Delur tetriori. 
 
 Or, to accommodate it to the capacity of the com- 
 batants, 
 
 The frightfull'st grinner 
 
 Be the winner. 
 
 In the mean while I would advise a Dutch painter 
 to be present at this great controversy of faces, in 
 order to make a collection of the most remarkable 
 grins that shall be there exhibited. 
 
 I must not here omit an account which I lately 
 received of one of these grinning matches from a 
 gentleman, who, upon reading the above-mentioned 
 advertisement, entertained a coffee-house with the 
 following narrative. Upon the taking of Namur, 
 among other public rejoicings made on that occasion, 
 
 T 2
 
 276 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 there was a gold ring given by a Whig justice of the 
 peace to be grinned for. The first competitor that 
 entered the lists, was a black, swarthy Frenchman, 
 who accidentally passed that way, and being a man 
 naturally of a withered look and hard features, pro- 
 mised himself good success. He was placed upon a 
 table in the great point of view, and looking upon the 
 company like Milton's death, 
 
 Grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile. — 
 
 His muscles were so drawn together on each side 
 of his face that he showed twenty teeth at a grin, and 
 put the country in some pain, lest a foreigner should 
 carry away the honour of the day ; but upon a further 
 trial they found he was master only of the merry 
 grin. 
 
 The next that mounted the table was a Malecontent 
 in those days, and a great master of the whole art of 
 grinning, but particularly excelled in the angry grin. 
 He did his part so well, that he is said to have made 
 half a dozen women miscarry ; but the justice being 
 apprized by one who stood near him, that the fellow 
 who grinned in his face was a Jacobite, and being 
 unwilling that a disaffected person should win the 
 gold ring, and be looked upon as the best grinner in 
 the country, he ordered the oaths to be tendered unto 
 him upon his quitting the table, which the grinner 
 refusing, he was set aside as an unqualified person. 
 There were several other grotesque figures that pre- 
 sented themselves, which it would be too tedious to 
 describe. I must not, however, omit a plough-man, 
 who lived in the further part of the country, and being 
 very lucky in a pair of long lanthorn-jawsj wrung his
 
 THE GRINNING MATCH. 277 
 
 face into such a hideous grimace, that every feature 
 of it appeared under a different distortion. The whole 
 company stood astonished at such a complicated grin, 
 and were ready to assign the prize to him, had it not 
 been proved by one of his antagonists that he had 
 practised with verjuice for some days before, and had 
 a crab found upon him at the very time of grinning ; 
 upon which the best judges of grinning declared it as 
 their opinion, that he was not to be looked upon as 
 a fair grinner, and therefore ordered him to be set 
 aside as a cheat. 
 
 The prize, it seems, fell at length upon a cobbler, 
 Giles Gorgon by name, who produced several new 
 grins of his own invention, having been used to cut 
 faces for many years together over his last. At the 
 very first grin he cast every human feature out of his 
 countenance, at the second he became the face of a 
 spout, at the third a baboon, at the fourth the head 
 of a bass-viol, and at the fifth a pair of nut-crackers. 
 The whole assembly wondered at his accomplish- 
 ments, and bestowed the ring on him unanimously ; 
 but, what he esteemed more than all the rest, a 
 country wench whom he had wooed in vain for above 
 five years before, was so charmed with his grins, and 
 the applauses which he received on all sides, that she 
 married him the week following, and to this day wears 
 the prize upon her finger, the cobbler having made 
 use of it as his wedding-ring. 
 
 This paper might perhaps seem very impertinent, 
 if it grew serious in the conclusion. I would never- 
 theless leave it to the consideration of those who are 
 the patrons of this monstrous trial of skill, whether or 
 no they are not guilty, in some measure, of an affront
 
 278 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 
 
 to their species, in treating after this manner the 
 Human Face Divine, and turning that part of us, 
 which has so great an image impressed upon it, into 
 the image of a monkey ; whether the raising such silly 
 competitions among the ignorant, proposing prizes for 
 such useless accomplishments, filling the common 
 people's heads with such senseless ambitions, and in- 
 spiring them with such absurd ideas of superiority and 
 pre-eminence, has not in it something immoral as well 
 as ridiculous.
 
 HUMOURS OF FASHION.
 
 I WAS yesterday engaged in an assembly of vir- 
 tuosos, where one of them produced many curious 
 observations which he had lately made in the anatomy 
 of a human body. Another of the company com- 
 municated to us several wonderful discoveries, which 
 he had also made on the same subject, by the help of 
 very fine glasses. This gave birth to a great variety 
 of uncommon remarks, and furnished discourse for 
 the remaining part of the day. 
 
 The different opinions which were started on this 
 occasion, presented to my imagination so many new 
 ideas, that by mixing with those which were already 
 there, they employed my fancy all the last night, and 
 composed a very wild, extravagant dream. 
 
 I was invited, methought, to the dissection of a 
 beau's head and of a coquette's heart, which were 
 both of them laid on a table before us. An imagi- 
 nary operator opened the first with a great deal of 
 nicety, which, upon a cursory and superficial view, 
 appeared like the head of another man ; but upon 
 applying our glasses to it, we made a very odd dis- 
 covery, namely, that what we looked upon as brains, 
 were not such in reality, but an heap of strange 
 materials wound up in that shape and texture, and 
 packed together with wonderful art in the several 
 cavities of the skulL For, as Homer tells us, that the
 
 282 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 blood of the gods is not real blood, but only some- 
 thing like it ; so we found that the brain of a beau is 
 not a real brain, but only something like it. 
 
 The pineal gland, which many of our modern philo- 
 sophers suppose to be the seat of the soul, smelt very 
 strong of essence and orange-flower water, and was 
 encompassed with a kind of horny substance, cut into 
 a thousand little faces or mirrors, which were imper- 
 ceptible to the naked eye ; insomuch, that the soul, if 
 there had been any here, must have been always taken 
 up in contemplating her own beauties. 
 
 We observed a large antrum or cavity in the sinci- 
 put, that was filled with ribbons, lace, and embroider}'', 
 wrought together in a most curious piece of network, 
 the parts of which were likewise imperceptible to the 
 naked eye. Another of these antrums or cavities was 
 stuffed with invisible billet-doux, love-letters, pricked 
 dances, and other trumpery of the same nature. In 
 another we found a kind of powder, which set the 
 whole company a sneezing, and by the scent dis- 
 covered itself to be right Spanish. The several other 
 cells were stored with commodities of the same kind, 
 of which it would be tedious to give the reader an 
 exact inventory. 
 
 There was a large cavity on each side of the head 
 which I must not omit. That on the right side was 
 filled with fictions, flatteries, and falsehoods, vows, 
 promises, and protestations ; that on the left with 
 oaths and imprecations. Tliere issued out a duct from 
 each of these cells, which ran into the root of the 
 tongue, where both joined together, and passed for- 
 ward in one common duct to the tip of it. We dis- 
 covered several httle roads or canals running: from
 
 A BEAU'S HEAD. 283 
 
 the ear into the brain, and toolc particular care to 
 trace them out through their several passages. One 
 of them extended itself to a bundle of sonnets and 
 little musical instruments. Others ended in several 
 bladders, which were filled with wind or froth. But 
 the large canal entered into a great cavity of the 
 skull, from whence there went another canal into the 
 tongue. This great cavity was filled with a kind of 
 spongy substance, which the French anatomists call 
 galimatias ; and the English, nonsense. 
 
 The skins of the forehead were extremely tough 
 and thick, and what very much surprised us, had not 
 in them any single blood-vessel that we were able to 
 discover either with or without our glasses ; from 
 whence we concluded, that the party, when alive, 
 must have been entirely deprived of the faculty of 
 blushing. 
 
 The OS cribriforme was exceedingly stufted, and in 
 some places damaged with snuff. We could not but 
 take notice in particular of that small muscle, which 
 is not often discovered in dissections, and draws the 
 nose upwards, when it expresses the contempt which 
 the owner of it has, upon seeing anything he does not 
 like, or hearing anything he does not understand. I 
 need not tell my learned reader, that this is that 
 muscle which performs the motion so often mentioned 
 by the Latin poets, when they talk of a man's cocking 
 his nose, or playing the rhinoceros. 
 
 We did not find anything very remarkable in the eye, 
 saving only that the miisculi amatorzi, or, as we may 
 translate it into English, the ogling muscles, were very 
 much worn and decayed with use ; whereas, on the 
 contrary, the elevator, or the muscle which turns the
 
 284 HUMOURS OF FASHION, 
 
 eye towards heaven, did not appear to have been 
 used at all. 
 
 I have only mentioned in this dissection such new 
 discoveries as we were able to make, and have not 
 taken any notice of those parts which are to be met 
 with in common heads. As for the skull, the face, 
 and indeed the whole outward shape and figure of the 
 head, we could not discover any difference from what 
 we observe in the heads of other men. We were in- 
 formed, that the person to whom this head belonged, 
 had passed for a man above five-and-thirty years ; 
 during which time he eat and drank like other people, 
 dressed well, talked loud, laughed frequently, and on 
 particular occasions had acquitted himself tolerably at 
 a ball or an assembly ; to which one of the company 
 added, that a certain knot of ladies took him for a 
 wit. He was cut off in the flower of his age by the 
 blow of a paring-shovel, having been surprised by an 
 eminent citizen as he was tendering some civilities to 
 his wife. 
 
 When we had thoroughly examined this head with 
 all its apartments, and its several kinds of furniture, 
 we put up the brain, such as it was, into its proper 
 place, and laid it aside under a broad piece of scarlet 
 cloth, in order to be prepared, and kept in a great 
 repository of dissections ; our operator telling us, 
 that the preparation would not be so difficult as 
 that of another brain, for that he had observed 
 several of the little pipes and tubes which ran 
 through the brain were already filled with a kind of 
 mercurial substance, which he looked upon to be 
 true quicksilver. 
 
 He applied himself in the next place to the coquette's
 
 A beau's head, 285 
 
 heart, which he likewise laid open with great dexterity. 
 There occurred to us many particularities in this dis- 
 section ; but being unwilling to burden my reader's 
 memory too much, I shall reserve this subject for the 
 speculation of another day.
 
 ^ (^Toqiictu's l^cart. 
 
 Having already given an account of the dissection 
 of a beau's head, with the several discoveries made on 
 that occasion, I shall here, according to my promise, 
 enter upon the dissection of a coquette's heart, and 
 communicate to the public such particularities as we 
 observed in that curious piece of anatomy. 
 
 I should, perhaps, have waived this undertaking, 
 had not I been put in mind of my promise by several 
 of my unknown correspondents, who are very impor- 
 tunate with me to make an example of the coquette, 
 as I have already done of the beau. It is, therefore, 
 in compliance with the request of friends, that I have 
 looked over the minutes of my former dream, in order 
 to give the public an exact relation of it, which I shall 
 enter upon without further preface. 
 
 Our operator, before he engaged in this visionary 
 dissection, told us, that there was nothing in his art 
 more difficult, than to lay open the heart of a coquette, 
 by reason of the many labyrinths and recesses which 
 are to be found in it, and which do not appear in the 
 heart of any other animal. 
 
 He desired us first of all to observe i\\& pericardium, 
 or outward case of the heart, which we did very at- 
 tentively ; and, by the help of our glasses, discerned 
 in it millions of little scars, which seemed to have been 
 occasioned by the points of innumerable darts and
 
 A COQUETTE'S HEART. 287 
 
 arrows, that from time to time had glanced upon the 
 outward coat ; though he could not discover the 
 smallest orifice, by which any of them had entered 
 and pierced the inward substance. 
 
 Ever)' smatterer in anatomy knows, that this peri- 
 cardium, or case of the heart, contains in it a thin 
 reddish liquor, supposed to be bred frum the vapours 
 which exhale out of the heart, and being stopped here, 
 are condensed into this water)' substance. Upon ex- 
 amining this liquor, we found that it had in it all the 
 qualities of that spirit which is made use of in the 
 thermometer, to show the change of weather. 
 
 Nor must I here omit an experiment one of the 
 company assures us he himself had made with this 
 liquor, which he found in great quantity about the 
 heart of a coquette whom he had formerly dissected. 
 He affirmed to us, that he had actually enclosed it 
 in a small tube made after the manner of a weather- 
 glass ; but that, instead of acquainting him with the 
 variations of the atmosphere, it showed him the 
 qualities of those persons who entered the room 
 where it stood- He affirmed also, that it rose at the 
 approach of a plume of feathers, an embroidered coat, 
 or a pair of fringed gloves ; and that it fell as soon as 
 an ill-shaped periwig, a clumsy pair of shoes, or an 
 unfashionable coat came into his house : nay, he pro- 
 ceeded so far as to assure us, that, upon his laughing 
 aloud when he stood by it, the liquor mounted very 
 sensibly, and immediately sunk again upon his look- 
 ing serious. In short, he told us, that he knew very 
 well by this invention whenever he had a man of 
 sense or a coxcomb in his room. 
 
 Ha\'ing cleared away the pericardium^ or the case
 
 288 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 and liquor above-mentioned, we came to the heart 
 itself. The outward surface of it was extremely slip- 
 pery, and the mucro, or point, so very cold withal, that 
 upon endeavouring to take hold of it, it glided through 
 the fingers like a smooth piece of ice. 
 
 The fibres were turned and twisted in a more in- 
 tricate and perplexed manner than they are usually 
 found in other hearts ; insomuch, that the whole heart 
 was wound up together like a Gordian knot, and must 
 have had very irregular and unequal motions, whilst 
 it was employed in its vital function. 
 
 One thing we thought very observable, namely, that 
 upon examining all the vessels which came into it, or 
 issued out of it, we could not discover any communica- 
 tion that it had with the tongue. 
 
 We could not but take notice likewise, that several 
 of those little nerves in the heart which are affected 
 by the sentiments of love, hatred, and other passions, 
 did not descend to this before us from the brain, but 
 from the muscles which lie about the eye. 
 
 Upon weighing the heart in my hand, I found it 
 to be extremely light, and consequently very hollow, 
 which I did not wonder at, when, upon looking into 
 the inside of it, I saw multitudes of cells and cavities 
 running one within another, as our historians describe 
 the apartments of Rosamond's Bower. Several of these 
 little hollows were stuffed with innumerable sorts of 
 trifles, which I shall forbear giving any particular 
 account of, and shall, therefore, only take notice of 
 what lay first and uppermost, which, upon our unfold- 
 ing it, and applying our microscope to it, appeared to 
 be a flame-coloured hood. 
 
 We were informed that the lady of this heart, when
 
 A coquette's heart. 289 
 
 living, received the adresses of several who made love 
 to her, and did not only give each of them encourage- 
 ment, but made every one she conversed with believe 
 that she regarded him with an eye of kindness : for 
 which reason, we expected to have seen the impression 
 of multitudes of faces among the several plaits and 
 foldings of the heart ; but, to our great surprise, not 
 a single print of this nature discovered itself, till we 
 came into the very core and centre of it. We there 
 observed a little figure, which, upon applying our 
 glasses to it, appeared dressed in a very fantastic 
 manner. The more I looked upon it, the more I 
 thought I had seen the face before, but could not 
 possibly recollect either the place or time ; when at 
 length one of the company, who had examined this 
 figure more nicely than the rest, showed us plainly by 
 the make of its face, and the several turns of its 
 features, that the little idol which was thus lodged in 
 the very middle of the heart, was the deceased beau, 
 whose head I gave some account of in my last 
 paper. 
 
 As soon as we had finished our dissection, we re- 
 solved to make an experiment of the heart, not being 
 able to determine among ourselves the nature of its 
 substance, which differed in so many particulars from 
 that of the heart in other females. Accordingly we 
 laid it into a pan of burning coals, when we observed 
 in it a certain salamandrine quality, that made it 
 capable of living in the midst of fire and flame, with- 
 out being consumed, or so much as singed. 
 
 As we were admiring this strange phsenomenon, 
 and standing round the heart in the circle, it gave a 
 most prodigious sigh, or rather crack, and dispersed 
 U
 
 290 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 all at once in smoke and vapour. This imaginary 
 noise, which methought was louder than the burst of 
 a cannon, produced such a violent shake in my brain, 
 that it dissipated the fumes of sleep, and left me in an 
 instant broad awake.
 
 ^5e l^ootr. 
 
 One of the fathers, if I am rightly informed, has 
 defined a woman to be C^ov (piXoKua-fxov, 'An animal 
 that dehghts in finery.' I have already treated of the 
 sex in two or three papers, conformably to this de- 
 finition, and have in particular observed, that in all 
 ages they have been more careful than the men to 
 adorn that part of the head, which we generally call 
 the outside. 
 
 This observation is so very notorious, that when in 
 ordinary discourse we say a man has a fine head, a 
 long head, or a good head, we express ourselves meta- 
 phorically, and speak in relation to his understanding ; 
 whereas, when we say of a woman, she has a fine, a 
 long, or a good head, we speak only in relation to her 
 commode. 
 
 It is observed among birds, that Nature has lavished 
 all her ornaments upon the male, who very often 
 appears in a most beautiful head-dress ; whether it be 
 a crest, a comb, a tuft of feathers, or a natural little 
 plume, erected like a kind of pinnacle on the very top 
 of the head. As Nature, on the contrary, has poured 
 out her charms in the greatest abundance upon the 
 female part of our species, so they are very assiduous 
 in bestowing upon themselves the finest garnitures of 
 art. The peacock, in all his pride, does not display 
 half the colours that appear in the garments of a 
 U 2
 
 292 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 British lady, when she is dressed either for a ball or 
 a birth-day. 
 
 But to return to our female heads. The ladies have 
 been for some time in a kind of moulting season, with 
 regard to that part of their dress, having cast great 
 quantities of ribbon, lace, and cambric, and in some 
 measure reduced that part of the human figure to the 
 beautiful globular form which is natural to it. We 
 have for a great while expected what kind of or- 
 nament would be substituted in the place of those 
 antiquated commodes. But our female projectors 
 were all the last summer so taken up with the im- 
 provement of their petticoats, that they had not time 
 to attend to anything else : but having at length 
 sufficiently adorned their lower parts, they now begin 
 to turn their thoughts upon the other extremity, as 
 well remembering the old kitchen proverb, That if 
 you light a fire at both ends, the middle will shift for 
 itself. 
 
 I am engaged in this speculation by a sight which I 
 lately met with at the opera. As I was standing in 
 the hinder part of the box, I took notice of a little 
 cluster of women sitting together in the prettiest 
 coloured hoods that I ever saw. One of them was 
 blue, another yellow, and another philomot ; the fourth 
 was of a pink colour, and the fifth of a pale green, 
 I looked with as much pleasure upon this little 
 party-coloured assembly, as upon a bed of tulips, and 
 did not know at first whether it might not be an 
 embassy of Indian queens ; but upon my going about 
 into the pit, and taking them in front, I was imme- 
 diately undeceived, and saw so much beauty in every 
 face, that 1 found them all to be English. Such eyes
 
 THE HOOD. 293 
 
 and lips, cheeks and foreheads, could be the growth 
 of no other country. The complexion of their faces 
 hindered me from observing any further the colour of 
 their hoods, though I could easily perceive by that 
 unspeakable satisfaction which appeared in their 
 looks, that their own thoughts were wholly taken up 
 on those pretty ornaments they wore upon their 
 heads. 
 
 I am informed that this fashion spreads daily, inso- 
 much that the Whig and Tory ladies begin already to 
 hang out different colours, and to show their prin- 
 ciples in their head-dress. Nay, if I may beheve my 
 friend Will. Honeycomb, there is a certain old coquette 
 of his acquaintance, who intends to appear very sud- 
 denly in a rainbow hood, like the Iris in Drj'den's 
 Virgil, not questioning but that among such a variety 
 of colours she shall have a charm for every heart. 
 
 My friend Will., who very much values himself upon 
 his great insights into gallantry, tells me, that he can 
 already guess at the humour a lady is in by her hood, 
 as the courtiers of Morocco know the disposition of 
 their presci.t emperor by the colour of the dress which 
 he puts on. When Melesinda wraps her head in flame 
 colour, her heart is set upon execution. When she 
 covers it with purple, I would not, says he, advise her 
 lover to approach her ; but if she appears in white, it 
 is peace, and he may hand her out of her box with 
 safety. 
 
 Will, informs me likewise, that these hoods may be 
 used as signals. Why else, says he, does Cornelia 
 always put on a black hood when her husband is gone 
 into the countr)'.' 
 
 Such are my friend Honeycomb's dreams of gal-
 
 294 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 lantry. For my own part, I impute this diversity of 
 colours in the hoods to the diversity of complexion in 
 the faces of my pretty country-women. Ovid, in his 
 Art of Love, has given some precepts as to this par- 
 ticular, though I find they are different from those 
 which prevail among the moderns. He recommends 
 a red striped silk to the pale complexion, white to the 
 brown, and dark to tlic fair. On the contrary, my 
 friend Will, who pretends to be a greater master in 
 this art than Ovid, tells me, that the palest features 
 look the most agreeable in white sarcenet, that a face 
 which is over-flushed appears to advantage in the 
 deepest scarlet, and that the darkest complexion is 
 not a little alleviated by a black hood. In short, he 
 is for losing the colour of the face in that of the hood, 
 as a fire burns dimly, and a candle goes half out, in 
 the light of the sun. This, says he, your Ovid himself 
 has hinted, where he treats of these matters, when he 
 tells us that the Blue Water-nymphs are dressed in 
 sky-coloured garments ; and that Aurora, who always 
 appears in the light of the rising sun, is robed in 
 saffron. 
 
 Whether these his observations are justly grounded 
 I cannot tell ; but I have often known him, as we 
 have stood together behind the ladies, praise or dis- 
 praise the complexion of a face which he never saw, 
 from observing the colour of her hood, and has been 
 very seldom out in these his guesses. 
 
 As I have nothing more at heart than the honour 
 and improvement of the fair sex, I cannot conclude 
 this paper without an exhortation to the British ladies, 
 that they would excel the women of all other nations 
 as much in virtue and good sense, as they do in
 
 THE HOOD. 295 
 
 beauty; which they may certainly do, if they will be 
 as industrious to cultivate their minds as they are to 
 adorn their bodies : in the mean while I shall recom- 
 mend to their most serious consideration the saying 
 of an old Greek poet, 
 
 VviaiKi Hoa/xos 6 rponos, k' ov \pv(xia
 
 There is not so variable a thing in nature as a 
 lady's head-dress : within my own memory I have 
 known it rise and fall above thirty degrees. About 
 ten years ago it shot up to a very great height, inso- 
 much that the female part of our species were much 
 taller than the men. The women were of such an 
 enormous stature, that ' we appeared as grasshoppers 
 before them : ' at present the whole sex is in a manner 
 dwarfed and shrunk into a race of beauties that seems 
 almost another species. I remember several ladies, 
 who were once very near seven foot high, that at 
 present want some inches of five : how they came to be 
 thus curtailed I cannot learn ; whether the whole sex 
 be at present under any penance which we know 
 nothing of, or whether they have cast their head- 
 dresses in order to surprise us with something in that 
 kind which shall be entirely new ; or whether some 
 of the tallest of the sex, being too cunning for the rest, 
 have contrived this method to make themselves ap- 
 pear sizeable, is still a secret ; though I find most are 
 of opinion, they are at present like trees new lopped 
 and pruned, that will certainly sprout up and flourish 
 with greater heads than before. P'or my own part, 
 as I do not love to be insulted by women who are 
 taller than myself, I admire the sex much more in 
 their present humiliation, which has reduced them
 
 THE HEAD-DRESS. 297 
 
 to their natural dimensions, than when they had ex- 
 tended their persons, and lengthened themselves out 
 into formidable and gigantic figures. I am not for 
 adding to the beautiful edifice of nature, nor for raising 
 any whimsical superstructure upon her plans : I must, 
 therefore, repeat it, that I am highly pleased with the 
 coiffure now in fashion, and think it shows the good 
 sense which at present very much reigns among the 
 valuable part of the sex. One may observe, that women 
 in all ages have taken more pains than men to adorn 
 the outside of their heads ; and, indeed, I very much 
 admire, that those female architects, who raise such 
 wonderful structures out of ribbons, lace, and wire, 
 have not been recorded for their respective inventions. 
 It is certain there have been as many orders in these 
 kinds of building, as in those which have been made 
 of marble : sometimes they rise in the shape of a 
 pyramid, sometimes like a tower, and sometimes like 
 a steeple. In Juvenal's time the building grew by 
 several orders and stories, as he has very humorously 
 described it. 
 
 Tot premit ordinibus, tot adhuc compagibus altum 
 ./Edilicat caput: Andromachen a fronte videbis; 
 Post minor est : aliain credas. — Juv. 
 
 But I do not remember, in any part of my reading, 
 that the head-dress aspired to so great an extrava- 
 gance as in the fourteenth century ; when it was built 
 up in a couple of cones or spires, which stood so 
 excessively high on each side of the head, that a 
 woman who was but a Pigmy without her head-dress, 
 appeared like a Colossus upon putting it on. Monsieur 
 Paradin says, 'That these old-fashioned frontanges
 
 298 HUMOURS OF KASHIOM. 
 
 rose an ell above the head ; that they were pointed 
 like steeples, and had long loose pieces of crape 
 fastened to the tops of them, which are curiously 
 fringed, and hung down their backs like streamers.' 
 
 The women might possibly have carried this Gothic 
 building much higher, had not a famous monk, Thomas 
 Connecte by name, attacked it with great zeal and reso- 
 lution. This holy man travelled from place to place to 
 preach down this monstrous commode ; and succeeded 
 so well in it, that as the magicians sacrificed their books 
 to the flames upon the preaching of an apostle, many 
 of the women threw down their head-dresses in the 
 middle of his sermon, and made a bonfire of them 
 within sight of the pulpit. He was so renowned, as well 
 for the sanctity of his life as his manner of preaching, 
 that he had often a congregation of twenty thousand 
 people ; the men placing themselves on the one side 
 of his pulpit, and the women on the other, that 
 appeared (to use the similitude of an ingenious writer) 
 like a forest of cedars with their heads reaching to 
 the clouds. He so warmed and animated the people 
 against this monstrous ornament, that it lay under a 
 kind of persecution ; and whenever it appeared in 
 public, was pelted down by the rabble, who flung 
 stones at the persons that wore it. But notwithstand- 
 ing this prodigy vanished while the preacher was 
 among them, it began to appear again some months 
 after his departure ; or, to tell it in Monsieur Paradin's 
 own words, ' The women, that, like snails in a fright, 
 had drawn in their horns, shot them out again as soon 
 as the danger was over.' This extravagance of the 
 women's head-dresses in that age is taken notice of 
 by Monsieur D'Argentre in his History of Bretagne,
 
 THE HEAD-DRESS. 299 
 
 and by other historians as well as the person I have 
 here quoted. 
 
 It is usually observed, that a good reign is the only 
 time for the making of laws against the exorbitance 
 of power ; in the same manner, an excessive head- 
 dress may be attacked the most effectually when the 
 fashion is against it. I do, therefore, recommend this 
 paper to my female readers by way of prevention. 
 
 I would desire the fair sex to consider how im- 
 possible it is for them to add anything that can be 
 ornamental to what is already the master-piece of 
 nature. The head has the most beautiful appearance, 
 as well as the highest station, in a human figure. 
 Nature has laid out all her art in beautifying the 
 face : she has touched it with vermilion, planted in it 
 a double row of ivory, made it the seat of smiles and 
 blushes, lighted it up and enHvened it with the bright- 
 ness of the eyes, hung it on each side with curious 
 organs of sense, given it airs and graces that cannot 
 be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing 
 shade of hair as sets all its beauties in the most agree- 
 able light ; in short, she seems to have designed the 
 head as the cupola to the most glorious of her works ; 
 and when we load it with such a pile of supernumerary 
 ornaments, we destroy the symmetry of the human 
 figure, and foolishly contrive to call off the eye from 
 great and real beauties, to childish gew-gaws, ribbons, 
 and bone-lace.
 
 Sfic jFnn Exercise. 
 
 I DO not know whether to call the following letter 
 a satire upon coquettes, or a representation of their 
 several fantastical accomplishments, or what other 
 title to give it ; but as it is I shall communicate it to 
 the public. It will sufficiently explain its own inten- 
 tions, so that I shall give it my reader at length, 
 without either preface or postscript. 
 
 ' Mr. Spectator, 
 
 Women are armed with fans as men with 
 swords, and sometimes do more execution with them. 
 To the end, therefore, that ladies may be entire mis- 
 tresses of the weapon which they bear, I have erected 
 an Academy for the training up of young women 
 in the Exercise of the Fan, according to the most 
 fashionable airs and motions that arc now practised 
 at court. The ladies who carry fans under me are 
 drawn up twice a day in my great hall, where they 
 are instructed in the use of their arms, and exercised 
 by the following words of command : 
 
 Handle your Fans, 
 Unfurl your Fans, 
 Dischars^e your Fans^ 
 Grouttd your Fans, 
 Recover your Fans, 
 Flutter your Fans. 
 
 ]5y the right observation of these few plain words of 
 command, a woman of a tolerable genius who will 
 apply herself diligently to her exercise for the space 
 of one half year, shall be able to give her fan all the
 
 THE FAN EXERCISE. 3OI 
 
 graces that can possibly enter into that little modish 
 machine. 
 
 ' But to the end that my readers may form to them- 
 selves a right notion of this exercise, I beg leave to 
 explain it to them in all its parts. When my female 
 regiment is drawn up in array, with every one her 
 weapon in her hand, upon my giving the word to 
 Handle their Fans, each of them shakes her fan at 
 me with a smile, then gives her right-hand woman a 
 tap upon the shoulder, then presses her lips with the 
 extremity of her fan, then lets her arms fall in an easy 
 motion, and stands in readiness to receive the next 
 word of command. All this is done with a close fan, 
 and is generally learned in the first week. 
 
 ' The next motion is that of Unfurling the Fan, 
 in which are comprehended several little flirts and 
 vibrations, as also gradual and deliberate openings, 
 with many voluntary fallings asunder in the fan itself, 
 that are seldom learned under a month's practice. 
 This part of the exercise pleases the spectators more 
 than any other, as it discovers on a sudden an in- 
 finite number of Cupids, garlands, altars, birds, beasts, 
 rainbows, and the like agreeable figures, that display 
 themselves to view, whilst every one in the regiment 
 holds a picture in her hand. 
 
 * Upon my giving the word to Discharge their Fans, 
 they give one general crack, that may be heard at a 
 considerable distance when the wind sits fair. This 
 is one of the most difficult parts of the exercise ; but 
 I have several ladies with me, who at their first en- 
 trance could not give a pop loud enough to be heard 
 at the further end of a room, who can now Discharge 
 a Fan in such a manner, that it shall make a report 
 like a pocket-pistol. I have likewise taken care (in 
 order to hinder young women from letting off their 
 fans in wrong places or unsuitable occasions) to show 
 upon what subject the crack of a fan may come in 
 properly. I have likewise invented a fan, with which 
 a girl of sixteen, by the help of a little wind which is 
 enclosed about one of the largest sticks, can make as 
 loud a crack as a woman of fifty with an ordinary fan.
 
 302 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 * When the fans are thus discharged, the word of 
 command in course is to Ground their Fans. This 
 teaches a lady to quit her fan gracefully when she 
 throws it aside, in order to take up a pack of cards, 
 adjust a curl of hair, replace a fallen pin, or apply 
 herself to any other matter of importance. This part 
 of the exercise, as it only consists in tossing a fan 
 with an air upon a long table (which stands by for 
 that purpose) may be learnt in two days' time as well 
 as in a twelvemonth. 
 
 ' When my female regiment is thus disarmed, I 
 generally let them walk about the room for some 
 time ; when on a sudden (like ladies that look upon 
 their watches after a long visit) they all of them 
 hasten to their arms, catch them up in a hurry, and 
 place themselves in their proper stations upon my 
 calling out Recover your Fans. This part of the 
 exercise is not difficult, provided a woman applies her 
 thoughts to it. 
 
 * The Fluttering of the Fan is the last, and, indeed, 
 the master-piece of the whole exercise ; but if a lady 
 does not misspend her time, she may make herself 
 mistress of it in three months. I generally lay aside 
 the dog-days and the hot time of the summer for the 
 teaching of this part of the exercise ; for as soon as 
 ever I pronounce Flutter your Fans, the place is filled 
 with so many zephyrs and gentle breezes as are very 
 refreshing in that season of the year, though they 
 might be dangerous to ladies of a tender constitution 
 in any other. 
 
 * There is an infinite variety of motions to be made 
 use of in the Flutter of a Fan : there is the angry 
 flutter, the modest flutter, the timorous flutter, the 
 confused flutter, the merry flutter, and the amorous 
 flutter. Not to be tedious, there is scarce any emotion 
 in the mind which does not produce a suitable agita- 
 tion in the fan ; insomuch, that if I only see the fan 
 of a disciplined lady, I know very well whether she 
 laughs, frowns, or blushes. I have seen a fan so veiy 
 angry, that it would have been dangerous for the 
 absent lover who provoked it to have come within the
 
 THE FAN EXERCISE. 3O3 
 
 wind of it ; and at other times so very languishing, 
 that I have been glad for the lady's sake the lover 
 was at a sufficient distance from it. I need not add, 
 that a fan is either a prude or coquette, according to 
 the nature of the person who bears it. To conclude 
 my letter, I must acquaint you, that I have from my 
 own observations compiled a little treatise for the use 
 of my scholars, entitled. The Passions of the Fan ; 
 which I will communicate to you, if you think it may 
 be of use to the public. I shall have a general review 
 on Thursday next ; to which you shall be very wel- 
 come if you will honour it with your presence. 
 
 ' I am,' &c. 
 
 'P. S. I teach young gentlemen the whole art of 
 gallanting a fan. 
 
 ' N. B. I have several little plain fans made for this 
 use, to avoid expense.'
 
 The journal with which I presented my reader on 
 Tuesday last, has brought me in several letters, with 
 accounts of many private lives cast into that form. 
 I have the Rake's Journal, the Sot's Journal, the 
 Whofemaster's Journal, and among several others a 
 very curious piece, entitled., 'The Journal of a Mohock.' 
 By these instances I find that the intention of my last 
 Tuesday's paper has been mistaken by many of my 
 readers. I did not design so much to expose vice as 
 idleness, and aimed at those persons who pass away 
 their time rather in trifles and impertinence, than in 
 crimes and immoralities. Offences of this latter kind 
 are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a 
 manner. In short, my journal only holds up folly to 
 the light, and shows the disagreeableness of such 
 actions as are indifferent in themselves, and blame- 
 able only as they proceed from creatures endowed 
 with reason. 
 
 My following correspondent, who calls herself 
 Clarinda, is such a journalist as I require : she seems by 
 her letter to be placed in a modish state of indifference 
 between vice and virtue, and to be susceptible of 
 either, were there proper pains taken with her. Had 
 her journal been filled with gallantries, or such occur- 
 rences as had shown her wholly divested of her 
 natural innocence, notwithstanding it might have been
 
 A LADY'S DIARY. 305 
 
 more pleasing to the generality of readers, I should 
 not have published it ; but as it is only the picture 
 of a life filled with a fashionable kind of gaiety and 
 laziness, I shall set down five days of it, as I have re- 
 ceived it from the hand of my correspondent. 
 
 * Dear Mr. Spectator, 
 
 You having set your readers an exercise in one 
 of your last week's papers, I have performed mine 
 according to your orders, and herewith send it you 
 enclosed. You must know, Mr. Spectator, that I am 
 a maiden lady of a good fortune, who have had several 
 matches offered me for these ten years last past, and 
 have at present warm applications made to me by a 
 very pretty fellow. As I am at my own disposal, I come 
 up to town every winter, and pass my time in it after 
 the manner you will find in the following journal, 
 which I began to write upon the very day after your 
 Spectator upon that subject. 
 
 Tuesday night. Could not go to sleep till one in 
 the morning for thinking of my journal. 
 
 Wednesday. From eight to ten. Drank two dishes 
 of chocolate in bed, and fell asleep after them. 
 
 From ten to eleven. Eat a slice of bread and butter, 
 drank a dish of bohea, read the Spectator. 
 
 From elevejt to one. At my toilette, tried a new 
 head. Gave orders for Veny to be combed and 
 washed. Mem. I look best in blue. 
 
 Front one till half an hour after two. Drove to the 
 'Change. Cheapened a couple of fans. 
 
 Till four. At dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by 
 in his new liveries. 
 
 From four to six. Dressed, paid a visit to old Lady 
 Blithe and her sister, having before heard they were 
 gone out of town that day. 
 
 From six to eleven. At basset. Mem. Never set 
 again upon the ace of diamonds.
 
 3o6 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 Thursday. From eleven at night to eight in the 
 tnornifig. Dreamed that I punted to Mr. Froth. 
 
 From eight to te7i. Chocolate. Read two acts in 
 Aurenzebe a-bed. 
 
 Frofu tejt to eleven. Tea-table. Sent to borrow 
 Lady Faddle's Cupid for Veny. Read the play-bills. 
 Received a letter from Mr. Froth. Mem. Locked it 
 up in my strong box. 
 
 Rest of the iiwrning. Fontange, the tire-woman, her 
 account of Lady Blithe's wash. Broke a tooth in my 
 little tortoise-shell comb. Sent Frank to know how 
 my Lady Hectick rested after her monkey's leaping out 
 at the window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my 
 glass is not true. Dressed by three. 
 
 Fro7n three to four. Dinner cold before I sat down. 
 
 From four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth's 
 opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. His 
 fancy for a pin-cushion. Picture in the lid of his snuff- 
 box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her woman to 
 cut my hair. Lost five guineas at crimp. 
 
 Twelve o^clock at night. Went to bed. 
 
 Friday. Eight in the morning. A-bed. Read over 
 all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Veny. 
 
 Tett o'clock. Stayed within all day, not at home. 
 
 From ten to twelve. In conference with my mantua- 
 maker. Sorted a suit of ribands. Broke my blue 
 china cup. 
 
 From twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber, 
 practised Lady Betty Modely's skuttle. 
 
 One in the aftcfyioott. Called for my flowered hand- 
 kerchief. Worked half a violet leaf in it. Eyes ached 
 and head out of order. Threw by my work, and read 
 over the remaining part of Aurenzebe. 
 
 From three to four. Dined. 
 
 From four to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed, 
 went abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. 
 Found Mrs. Spitely at home. Conversation : Mrs. 
 Brillant's necklace false stones. Old Lady Loveday 
 going to be married to a young fellow that is not
 
 A lady's diary. 307 
 
 worth a groat. Miss Prue gone into the country. Tom 
 Townley has red hair. Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered 
 in my ear that she had something to tell me about 
 Mr. Froth, I am sure it is not true. 
 
 Between twelve and one. Dreamed that Mr. Froth 
 lay at my feet, and called me Indamora. 
 
 Saturday. Rose at eight o'clock in the morning. 
 Sat down to my toilette. 
 
 From eight to ?iitie. Shifted a patch for half an 
 hour before I could determine it. Fixed it above my 
 left eyebrow. 
 
 Fro?n nine to itvelve. Drank my tea, and dressed. 
 
 From twelve to two. At chapel. A great deal of 
 good company. Mem. The third air in the new opera. 
 Lady Blithe dressed frightfully. 
 
 From three to four. Dined. Mrs. Kitty called upon 
 me to go to the opera before I was risen from table. 
 
 From dinner to six. Drank tea. Turned off a foot- 
 man for being rude to Veny. 
 
 Six o''clock. Went to the opera. I did not see 
 Mr. Froth till the beginning of the second act. Mr. 
 Froth talked to a gentleman in a black wig. Bowed 
 to a lady in the front box. Mr. Froth and his friend 
 clapped Nicolini in the third act. Mr. Froth cried out 
 Ancora. Mr. Froth led me to my chair. I think he 
 squeezed my hand. 
 
 Eleven at 7iight. Went to bed. Melancholy dreams. 
 Methought Nicolini said he was Mr. Froth. 
 
 Sunday. Indisposed. 
 
 MOND.AY. Eight o'clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. 
 Aurenzebe lay upon the chair by me. Kitty repeated 
 without book the eight best lines in the play. Went 
 in our mobs to the dumb man, according to appoint- 
 ment. Told me that my lover's name began with a G. 
 Mem. The conjurer was within a letter of Mr. Froth's 
 name, &c. 
 
 * Upon my looking back into this my journal, I find 
 
 X2
 
 3o8 HUMOURS OF FASUION. 
 
 that I am at a loss to know whether I pass my time 
 well or ill ; and indeed never thought of considering 
 how I did it, before I perused your speculation upon 
 that subject. I scarce find a single action in these 
 five days that I can thoroughly approve of, except the 
 working upon the violet leaf, which I am resolved to 
 finish the first day I am at leisure. As for Mr. Fi'Oth 
 and Veny, I did not think they took up so much of 
 my time and thoughts, as I find they do upon my 
 journal. The latter of whom I will turn off if you 
 insist upon it ; and if Mr. Froth does not bring matters 
 to a conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my life 
 run away in a dream. 
 
 * Your humble servant, 
 
 Clarinda.' 
 
 To resume one of the morals of my first paper, and 
 to confirm Clarinda in her good inclinations, I would 
 have her consider what a pretty figure she would 
 make among posterity, were the history of her whole 
 life published like these five days of it. I shall con- 
 clude my paper with an epitaph written by an un- 
 certain author on Sir Philip Sidney's sister, a lady 
 who seems to have been of a temper very much dif- 
 ferent from that of Clarinda. The last thought of it 
 is so very noble, that I dare say my reader will pardon 
 the quotation. 
 
 On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke. 
 
 Underneath this maible hearse 
 Lies the subject of all verse, 
 Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother; 
 Death, ere tliou hast killed another. 
 Fair, and learned, and good as she, 
 Time shall throw a dart at thee.
 
 jpasj^fons from JFrnncc. 
 
 There is nothing which I more desire than a safe 
 and honourable peace, though at the same time I am 
 very apprehensive of many ill consequences that may 
 attend it. I do not mean in regard to our politics, 
 but to our manners. What an inundation of ribbons 
 and brocades will break in upon us ! what peals of 
 laughter and impertinence shall we be exposed to ! 
 For the prevention of these great evils, I could 
 heartily wish that there was an act of parliament for 
 prohibiting the importation of French fopperies. 
 
 The female inhabitants of our island have already 
 received very strong impressions from this ludicrous 
 nation, though by the length of the war (as there is no 
 evil which has not some good attending it) they are 
 pretty well worn out and forgotten. I remember the 
 time when some of our well-bred country-women kept 
 their valet de chambre, because, forsooth, a man was 
 much more handy about them than one of their own 
 sex. I myself have seen one of these male Abigails 
 tripping about the room with a looking-glass in his 
 hand, and combing his lady's hair a whole morning 
 together. Whether or no there was any truth in the 
 story of a lady's being got with child by one of these 
 her handmaids, I cannot tell ; but I think at present 
 the whole race of them is extinct in our own countr)'. 
 
 About the time that several of our sex were taken
 
 3ro HUMOURS OF FASHION 
 
 into this kind of service, the ladies likewise brought 
 up the fashion of receiving visits in their beds. It 
 was then looked upon as a piece of ill-breeding for a 
 woman to refuse to see a man because she was not 
 stirring ; and a porter would have been thought unfit 
 for his place, that could have made so awkward an 
 excuse. As I love to see everything that is new, I 
 once prevailed upon my friend Will. Honeycomb to 
 carry me along with him to one of these travelled 
 ladies, desiring him, at the same time, to present me 
 as a foreigner who could not speak English, that so 
 I might not be obliged to bear a part in the discourse. 
 The lady, though willing to appear undrest, had put 
 on her best looks, and painted herself for our recep- 
 tion. Her hair appeared in a very nice disorder, as 
 the night-gown which was thrown upon her shoulders 
 was ruffled with great care. For my part, I am so 
 shocked with everything which looks immodest in the 
 fair sex, that I could not forbear taking off my eye 
 from her when she moved in her bed, and was in the 
 greatest confusion imaginable every time she stirred 
 a leg or an arm. As the coquets, who introduced this 
 custom, grew old, they left it off by degrees ; well 
 knowing that a woman of threescore may kick and 
 tumble her heart out, without making any impres- 
 sions. 
 
 Sempronia is at present the most profest admirer 
 of the French nation, but is so modest as to admit 
 her visitants no further than her toilet. It is a very 
 odd sight that beautiful creature makes, when she is 
 talking politics with her tresses flowing about her 
 shoulders, and examining that face in the glass, which' 
 does such execution upon all the male standers-by.
 
 FASHIONS FROM FRANCE. 3II 
 
 How prettily does she divide her discourse between 
 her woman and her visitants ! What sprightly tran- 
 sitions does she make from an opera or a sermon, to 
 an ivory comb or a pincushion ! How have I been 
 pleased to see her interrupted in an account of her 
 travels by a message to her footman ! and holding her 
 tongue in the midst of a moral reflection by applying 
 the tip of it to a patch ! 
 
 There is nothing which exposes a woman to greater 
 dangers, than that gaiety and airiness of temper, 
 which are natural to most of the sex. It should be 
 therefore the concern of every wise and virtuous 
 woman, to keep this sprightliness from degenerating 
 into levity. On the contrary, the whole discourse and 
 behaviour of the French is to make the sex more 
 fantastical, or (as they are pleased to term it) more 
 awakened, than is consistent either with virtue or 
 discretion. To speak loud in public assemblies, to let 
 every one hear you talk of things that should only be 
 mentioned in private, or in whisper, are looked upon 
 as parts of a refined education. At the same time, a 
 blush is unfashionable, and silence more ill-bred than 
 anything that can be spoken. In short, discretion 
 and modesty, which in all other ages and countries 
 have been regarded as the greatest ornaments of the 
 fair sex, are considered as the ingredients of narrow 
 conversation and family behaviour. 
 
 Some years ago I was at the tragedy of Macbeth, 
 and unfortunately placed myself under a woman of 
 quality that is since dead ; who, as I found by the 
 noise she made, was newly returned from France. 
 A little before the rising of the curtain, she broke out 
 into a loud soliloquy, ' When will the dear witches
 
 312 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 enter?' and immediately upon their first appearance, 
 asked a lady that sat three boxes from her, on her 
 right hand, if those witches were not charming 
 creatures. A little after, as Betterton was in one of 
 the finest speeches of the pla)', she shook her fan at 
 another lady, who sat as far on the left hand, and told 
 her with a whisper, that might be heard all over the 
 pit, we must not expect to see Balloon to-night. Not 
 long after, calling out to a young baronet by his name, 
 who sat three seats before me, she asked him whether 
 RIacbeth's wife was still alive ; and before he could 
 give an answer, fell a talking of the ghost of Banquo. 
 She had by this time formed a little audience to her- 
 self, and fixed the attention of all about her. But as 
 I had a mind to hear the play, I got out of the sphere 
 of her impertinence, and planted myself in one of the 
 remotest corners of the pit. 
 
 This pretty childishness of behaviour is one of 
 the most refined parts of coquetry, and is not to be 
 attained in perfection by ladies that do not travel for 
 their improvement. A natural and unconstrained 
 behaviour has something in it so agreeable, that it is 
 no wonder to see people endeavouring after it. But 
 at the same time, it is so very hard to hit, when it is 
 not born with us, that people often make themselves 
 ridiculous in attempting it. 
 
 A very ingenious French author tells us, that the 
 ladies of the court of France, in his time, thought it 
 ill-breeding, and a kind of female pedantry, to pro- 
 nounce an hard word right ; for which reason they 
 took frequent occasion to use hard words, that they 
 might show a politeness in murdering them. He 
 further adds, that a lady of some quality at court,
 
 FASHIONS FROM FRANCE. 313 
 
 having accidentally made use of an hard word in a 
 proper place, and pronounced it right, the whole 
 assembly was out of countenance for her. 
 
 I must, however, be so just to own, that there are 
 many ladies who have travelled several thousands of 
 miles without being the worse for it, and have brought 
 home with them all the modesty, discretion, and good 
 sense, that they went abroad with. As, on the con- 
 trary, there are great numbers of travelled ladies, who 
 have lived all their days within the smoke of London. 
 I have known a woman that never was out of the 
 parish of St. James's betray as many foreign fopperies 
 in her carriage, as she could have gleaned up in half 
 the countries of Europe.
 
 5iSlomfl« on f^orsebaclfe. 
 
 Most of the papers I give the pubHc are written on 
 subjects that never vary, but are for ever fixt and im- 
 mutable. Of this kind are all my more serious essays 
 and discourses ; but there is another sort of specula- 
 tions, which I consider as occasional papers, that take 
 their rise from the folly, extravagance, and caprice of 
 the present age. For I look upon myself as one set 
 to watch the manners and behaviour of my country- 
 men and contemporaries, and to mark down every 
 absurd fashion, ridiculous custom, or affected form of 
 speech, that makes its appearance in the world, during 
 the course of these my speculations. The petticoat 
 no sooner begun to swell, but I observed its motions. 
 The party-patches had not time to muster themselves 
 before I detected them. I had intelligence of the 
 coloured hood the very first time it appeared in a 
 public assembly. I might here mention several other 
 the like contingent subjects, upon which I have be- 
 stowed distinct papers. By this means I have so 
 effectually quashed those irregularities which gave 
 occasion to them, that I am afraid posterity will 
 scarce have sufficient idea of them to relish those 
 discourses which were in no little vogue at the time 
 when they were written. They will be apt to think 
 that the fashions and customs I attacked were some 
 fantastic conceits of my own, and that their great-
 
 WOMAN ON HORSEBACK. 315 
 
 grandmothers could not be so whimsical as I have 
 represented them. For this reason, when I think on 
 the figure my several volumes of speculations will 
 make about a hundred years hence, I consider them 
 as so many pieces of old plate, where the weight will 
 be regarded, but the fashion lost. 
 
 Among the several female extravagances I have 
 already taken notice of, there is one which still keeps 
 its ground. I mean that of the ladies who dress 
 themselves in a hat and feather, a riding-coat and a 
 periwig ; or at least tie up their hair in a bag or 
 ribbon, in imitation of the smart part of the opposite 
 sex. I have already shown my dislike of this im- 
 modest custom more than once ; but in contempt of 
 everything I have hitherto said, I am informed that 
 the highways about this great city are still very much 
 infested with these female cavaliers. 
 
 I remember when I was at my friend Sir Roger de 
 Coverley's about this time twelvemonth, an equestrian 
 lady of this order appeared upon the plains which lay 
 at a distance from his house. I was at that time 
 walking in the fields with my old friend ; and as his 
 tenants ran out on every side to see so strange a sight. 
 Sir Roger asked one of them who came by us, what it 
 was? To which the country fellow replied, "Tis a 
 gentlewoman, saving your worship's presence, in a 
 coat and hat.' This produced a great deal of mirth 
 at the knight's house, where we had a story at the 
 same time of another of his tenants, who meeting this 
 gentleman-like lady on the high-way, was asked by 
 her whether that was Coverley Hall ; the honest man 
 seeing only the male part of the querist, replied, 'Yes 
 sir ;' but upon the second question, ' whether Sir
 
 3l6 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 
 
 Roger de Coverley was a married man,' having drop- 
 ped his eye upon the petticoat, he changed his note 
 into ' No madam.' 
 
 Had one of these hermaphrodites appeared in 
 Juvenal's day, with what an indignation should we 
 have seen her described by that excellent satirist. 
 He would have represented her in her riding habit, 
 as a greater monster than the Centaur. He would 
 have called for sacrifices, or purifying waters, to 
 expiate the appearance of such a prodigy. He would 
 have invoked the shades of Portia or Lucretia, to see 
 into what the Roman ladies had transformed them- 
 selves. 
 
 For my own part, I am for treating the sex with 
 greater tenderness, and have all along made use of 
 the most gentle methods to bring them off from any 
 little extravagance into which they are sometimes un- 
 warily fallen : I think it however absolutely necessary 
 to keep up the partition between the two sexes, and 
 to take notice of the smallest encroachments which 
 the one makes upon the other. I hope, therefore, 
 that I shall not hear any more complaints on this 
 subject. I am sure my she-disciples who peruse these 
 my daily lectures, have profited but little by them, if 
 they are capable of giving into such an amphibious 
 dress. This I should not have mentioned, had not I 
 lately met one of these my female readers in Hyde 
 Park, who looked upon me with a masculine assurance, 
 and cocked her hat full in my face. 
 
 For my part, I have one general key to the be- 
 haviour of the fair sex. When I see them singular 
 in any part of their dress, I conclude it is not without 
 some evil intention ; and therefore question not but
 
 WOAfAN ON HORSEBACK. 317 
 
 the design of this strange fashion is to smite more 
 effectually their male beholders. Now to set them 
 right in this particular, I would fain have them con- 
 sider with themselves whether we are not more likely 
 to be struck by a figure entirely female, than with such 
 an one as we may see every day in our glasses : or, 
 if they please, let them reflect upon their own hearts, 
 and think how they would be affected should they 
 meet a man on horse-back in his breeches and jack- 
 boots, and at the same time dressed up in a commode 
 and a night-rail. 
 
 I must observe that this fashion was first of all 
 brought to us from France, a country which has in- 
 fected all the nations in Europe with its levity. I 
 speak not this in derogation of a whole people, having 
 more than once found fault with those general re- 
 flections which strike at kingdoms or commonwealths 
 in the gross ; a piece of cruelty, which an ingenious 
 writer of our own compares to that of Caligula, who 
 wished the Roman people had all but one neck, that 
 he might behead them at a blow. I shall therefore 
 only remark, that as liveliness and assurance are in 
 a peculiar manner the qualifications of the French 
 nation, the same habits and customs will not give the 
 same offence to that people, which they produce 
 among those of our own countr)^ Modesty is our 
 distinguishing character, as vivacity is theirs; and 
 when this our national virtue appears in that family 
 beauty, for which our British ladies are celebrated 
 above all others in the universe, it makes up the 
 most amiable object that the eye of man can possibly 
 behold.
 
 VARIOUS ESSAYS.
 
 ©mens. 
 
 Going yesterday to dine with an old acquaintance, 
 I had the misfortune to find his whole family very 
 much dejected. Upon asking him the occasion of it, 
 he told me that his wife had dreamt a strange dream 
 the night before, which they were afraid portended 
 some misfortune to themselves or to their children. 
 At her coming into the room, I observed a settled 
 melancholy in her countenance, which I should have 
 been troubled for, had I not heard from whence it 
 proceeded. We were no sooner sat down, but, after 
 having looked upon me a little while, * My dear,' says 
 she, turning to her husband, 'you may now see the 
 stranger that was in the candle last night.' Soon after 
 this, as they began to talk of family affairs, a little boy 
 at the lower end of the table told her, that he was to 
 go into join-hand on Thursday. ' Thursday ! ' says 
 she. * No, child, if it please God, you shall not begin 
 upon Childermas-day: tell your writing master that 
 Friday will be soon enough.' I was reflecting with 
 myself on the oddness of her fancy, and wondering 
 that anybody would establish it as a rule to lose a day 
 in every week. In the midst of these my musings, 
 she desired me to reach her a little salt upon the point 
 of my knife, which I did in such a trepidation and 
 hurry of obedience, that I let it drop by the way ; at 
 which she immediately startled, and said it fell to- 
 wards her. Upon this I looked very blank ; and 
 Y
 
 322 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 observing the concern of the whole table, began to 
 consider myself, with some confusion, as a person 
 that had brought a disaster upon the family. The 
 lady, however, recovering herself, after a little space, 
 said to her husband, with a sigh, ' My dear, mis- 
 fortunes never come single.' My friend, I found, acted 
 but an under part at his table, and being a man of 
 more good-nature than understanding, thinks himself 
 obliged to fall in with all the passions and humours of 
 his yoke-fellow. * Do not you remember, child,' says 
 she, 'that the pigeon-house fell the very afternoon 
 that our careless wench spilt the salt upon the table?' 
 * Yes,' says he, ' my dear ; and the next post brought 
 us an account of the battle of Almanza.' The reader 
 may guess at the figure I made, after having done all 
 this mischief. I despatched my dinner as soon as I 
 could, with my usual taciturnity; when, to my utter 
 confusion, the lady seeing me quitting my knife and 
 fork, and laying them across one another upon my 
 plate, desired me that I would humour her so far as 
 to take them out of that figure, and place them side 
 by side. What the absurdity was which I had com- 
 mitted I did not know, but I suppose there was 
 some traditionary superstition in it ; and therefore in 
 obedience to the lady of the house, I disposed of my 
 knife and fork in two parallel lines, which is the figure 
 I shall always lay them in for the future, though I do 
 not know any reason for it. 
 
 It is not difficult for a man to see that a person has 
 conceived an aversion to him. For my own part, I 
 quickly found, by the lady's looks, that she regarded 
 me as a very odd kind of fellow, with an unfortunate 
 aspect. For which reason I took my leave imme-
 
 OMENS. 323 
 
 diately after dinner, and withdrew to my own lodgings. 
 Upon my return home, I fell into a profound con- 
 templation of the evils that attend these superstitious 
 follies of mankind ; how they subject us to imaginary 
 afflictions, and additional sorrows, that do not properly 
 come within our lot. As if the natural calamities of 
 life were not sufficient for it, we turn the most in- 
 different circumstances into misfortunes, and suffer 
 as much from trifling accidents as from real evils. 
 I have known the shooting of a star spoil a night's 
 rest ; and have seen a man in love grow pale, and 
 lose his appetite, upon the plucking of a merry- 
 thought. A screech-owl at midnight has alarmed a 
 family more than a band of robbers : nay, the voice 
 of a cricket hath struck more terror than the roaring 
 of a lion. There is nothing so inconsiderable, which 
 may not appear dreadful to an imagination that is 
 filled with omens and prognostics. A rusty nail, or a 
 crooked pin, shoot up into prodigies. 
 
 I remember I was once in a mixt assembly, that 
 was full of noise and mirth, when on a sudden an old 
 woman unluckily observed there were thirteen of us 
 in company. This remark struck a panic terror into 
 several who were present, insomuch that one or two 
 of the ladies were going to leave the room ; but a 
 friend of mine taking notice that one of our female 
 companions was big with child, affirmed, there were 
 fourteen in the room, and that, instead of portending 
 one of the company should die, it plainly foretold one 
 of them should be born. Had not my friend found 
 this expedient to break the omen, I question not but 
 half the women in the company would have fallen sick 
 that very night. 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 An old maid, that is troubled with the vapours, pro- 
 duces infinite disturbances of this kind among her 
 friends and neighbours. I know a maiden aunt of a 
 great family, who is one of these antiquated Sibyls, 
 that forebodes and prophesies from one end of the 
 year to the other. She is always seeing apparitions 
 and hearing death-watches ; and was the other day 
 almost frighted out of her wits by the great house- 
 dog, that howled in the stable at a time when she lay 
 ill of the tooth-ache. Such an extravagant cast of 
 mind engages multitudes of people, not only in imper- 
 tinent terrors, but in supernumerary duties of life ; 
 and arises from that fear and ignorance which are 
 natural to the soul of man. The horror with which 
 we entertain the thoughts of death, (or indeed of any 
 future evil,) and the uncertainty of its approach, fill 
 a melancholy mind with innumerable apprehensions 
 and suspicions, and consequently dispose it to the 
 observation of such groundless prodigies and pre- 
 dictions. For as it is the chief concern of wise men 
 to retrench the evils of life by the reasonings of philo- 
 sophy, it is the employment of fools to multiply them 
 by the sentiments of superstition. 
 
 For my own part, I should be very much troubled 
 were I endowed with this divining quality, though it 
 should inform me truly of everything that can befall 
 me. I would not anticipate the relish of any hap- 
 piness, nor feel the weight of any misery, before it 
 actually arrives. 
 
 I know but one way of fortifying my soul against 
 these gloomy presages and terrors of mind, and that 
 is, by securing to myself the friendship and protection 
 of that Being who disposes of events, and governs
 
 OMENS. 325 
 
 futurity. He sees at one view the whole thread of 
 my existence ; not only that part of it which I have 
 already passed through, but that which runs forward 
 into all the depths of eternity. When I lay me down 
 to sleep, I recommend myself to his care ; when I 
 awake, I give myself up to his direction. Amidst all 
 the evils that threaten me, I will look up to him for 
 help, and question not but he will either avert them, 
 or turn them to my advantage. Though I know 
 neither the time nor the manner of the death I am to 
 die, I am not at all solicitous about it ; because I am 
 sure that he knows them both, and that he "will not 
 fail to comfort and support me under them.
 
 Untry Curators. 
 
 We are told by some ancient authors, that Socrates 
 was instructed in eloquence by a woman, whose name, 
 if I am not mistaken, was Aspasia. I have, indeed, 
 very often looked upon that art as the most proper 
 for the female sex, and I think the universities would 
 do well to consider whether they should not fill their 
 rhetoric chairs with she-professors. 
 
 It has been said in the praise of some men, that 
 they could talk whole hours together upon anything ; 
 but it must be owned to the honour of the other sex, 
 that there are many among them who can talk whole 
 hours together upon nothing. I have known a woman 
 branch out into a long extempore dissertation upon 
 the edging of a petticoat, and chide her servant for 
 breaking a china cup in all the figures of rhetoric. 
 
 Were women admitted to plead in courts of judi- 
 cature, I am persuaded they would carry the eloquence 
 of the bar to greater heights than it has yet arrived 
 at. If any one doubts this, let him but be present at 
 those debates which frequently arise among the ladies 
 of the British fishery. 
 
 The first kind, therefore, of female orators which I 
 shall take notice of, are those who are employed in 
 stirring up the passions, a part of rhetoric in which 
 Socrates his wife had perhaps made a greater pro- 
 ficiency than his above-mentioned teacher.
 
 LADY ORATORS. 327 
 
 The second kind of female orators are those who 
 deal in invectives, and who are commonly known by 
 the name of the censorious. The imagination and 
 elocution of this set of rhetoricians is wonderful. With 
 what a fluency of invention, and copiousness of ex^ 
 pression, will they enlarge upon every little slip in the 
 behaviour of another ! With how many different cir- 
 cumstances, and with what variety of phrases, will 
 they tell over the same story ! I have known an old 
 lady make an unhappy marriage the subject of a 
 month's conversation. She blamed the bride in one 
 place ; pitied her in another ; laughed at her in a 
 third ; wondered at her in a fourth ; was angry with 
 her in a fifth ; and in short, wore out a pair of coach- 
 horses in expressing her concern for her. At length, 
 after having quite exhausted the subject on this side, 
 she made a visit to the new-married pair, praised the 
 wife for the prudent choice she had made, told her the 
 unreasonable reflections which some malicious people 
 had cast upon her, and desired that they might be 
 better acquainted. The censure and approbation of 
 this kind of women are therefore only to be considered 
 as helps to discourse. 
 
 A third kind of female orators may be comprehended 
 under the word Gossips. Mrs. Fiddle Faddle is per- 
 fectly accomplished in this sort of eloquence ; she 
 launches out into descriptions of christenings, runs 
 divisions upon an head-dress, knows every dish of 
 meat that is served up in her neighbourhood, and en- 
 tertains her company a whole afternoon together with 
 the wit of her little boy, before he is able to speak. 
 
 The coquette may be looked upon as a fourth kind 
 of female orator. To give herself the larger field for
 
 328 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 discourse, she hates and loves in the same breath, 
 talks to her lap-dog or parrot, is uneasy in all kinds 
 of weather, and in every part of the room : she has 
 false quarrels and feigned obligations to all the men 
 of her acquaintance ; sighs when she is not sad, and 
 laughs when she is not merry. The coquette is in 
 particular a great mistress of that part of oratory which 
 is called action, and indeed seems to speak for no 
 other purpose, but as it gives her an opportunity of 
 stirring a limb, or varying a feature, of glancing her 
 eyes, or playing with her fan. 
 
 As for news-mongers, politicians, mimics, story- 
 tellers, with other characters of that nature, which 
 give birth to loquacity, they are as commonly found 
 among the men as the women ; for which reason I 
 shall pass them over in silence. 
 
 I have been often puzzled to assign a cause why 
 women should have this talent of a ready utterance in 
 so much greater perfection than men. I have some- 
 times fancied that they have not a retentive power, 
 the faculty of suppressing their thoughts, as men 
 have, but that they are necessitated to speak every- 
 thing they think ; and if so, it would perhaps furnish 
 a very strong argument to the Cartesians, for the sup- 
 porting of their doctrine, that the soul always thinks. 
 But as several are of opinion that the fair sex are not 
 altogether strangers to the arts of dissembling, and 
 concealing their thoughts, I have been forced to re- 
 linquish that opinion, and have, therefore, endeavoured 
 to seek after some better reason. In order to it, a 
 friend of mine, who is an excellent anatomist, has 
 promised me by the first opportunity to dissect a 
 woman's tongue, and to examine whether there may
 
 LADY ORATORS. 329 
 
 not be in it certain juices which render it so wonder- 
 fully voluble or flippant, or whether the fibres of it 
 may not be made up of a finer or more pliant thread, 
 or whether there are not in it some particular muscles, 
 which dart it up and down by such sudden glances 
 and vibrations ; or whether, in the last place, there 
 may not be certain undiscovered channels running 
 from the head and the heart, to this little instrument of 
 loquacity, and conveying into it a perpetual affluence 
 of animal spirits. Nor must I omit the reason which 
 Hudibras has given, why those who can talk on trifles 
 speak with the greatest fluency ; namely, that the 
 tongue is like a race-horse, which runs the faster the 
 lesser weight it carries. 
 
 Which of these reasons soever may be looked upon 
 as the most probable, I think the Irishman's thought 
 was very natural, who, after some hours' conversa- 
 tion with a female orator, told her, that he believed 
 her tongue was very glad when she was asleep, for 
 that it had not a moment's rest all the while she was 
 awake. 
 
 That excellent old ballad of the ' Wanton Wife of 
 Bath ' has the following remarkable lines : 
 
 I think, quoth Thomas, women's tongues 
 Of aspen leaves are made. 
 
 And Ovid, though in the description of a very 
 barbarous circumstance, tells us, that when the tongue 
 of a beautiful female was cut out, and thrown upon the 
 ground, it could not forbear muttering even in that 
 posture : 
 
 — Comprehensam forcipe linguam 
 Abstulit ense fero. Radix micat ultima linguje
 
 330 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 Ipsa jacet, terraquoe tremens immurmurat atrje; 
 Utque salire solet mutilat^e cauda colubrse, 
 Palpitat. 
 
 If a tongue would be talking without a mouth, what 
 could it have done when it had all its organs of speech, 
 and accomplices of sound, about it ? I might here 
 mention the story of the pippin-woman, had not I 
 some reason to look upon it as fabulous. 
 
 I must confess I am so wonderfully charmed with 
 the music of this little instrument, that I would by no 
 means discourage it. All that I aim at by this dis- 
 sertation is, to cure it of several disagreeable notes, 
 and in particular of those little jarrings and dis- 
 sonances which arise from anger, censoriousness, 
 gossiping, and coquetry. In short, I would have it 
 always tuned by good-nature, truth, discretion, and 
 sincerity.
 
 ^tibenturts of a ^Ijillfng. 
 
 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 busy men 
 of the age, who only valued themselves for 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 defy 
 (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 reverie, 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 itself upon its edge, and turning the face to- 
 wards me, opened its mouth, and in a soft silver 
 sound, gave me the following account of his life and 
 adventures :
 
 332 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 ' I was born (says he) on the side of a mountain, 
 near a Httle 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 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 somebody knocking at our 
 chest, and breaking it open with a 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 myself, I was sent to 
 the apothecary's shop for a pint of sack. The apo- 
 thecary 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 noncon- 
 formist 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
 
 ADVENTURES OF A SHILLING. 333 
 
 sometimes fetched in a shoulder of mutton, sometimes 
 a play-book, and often had the satisfaction to treat a 
 Templar 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 greasy purse, in pur- 
 suance 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 be- 
 ginning 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 sergeant 
 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 un- 
 generous gallant marrying her within a few days after, 
 pawned me for a dram of brandy, and drinking me out 
 next day, I was beaten flat with a hammer, and again 
 set a running. 
 
 'After many adventures, which it would be tedious
 
 334 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 to relate, I was sent to a young spendthrift, in com- 
 pany with the will of his deceased father. The young 
 fellow, who I found was very extravagant, gave great 
 demonstrations of joy at the receiving of the will : 
 but opening it, he found himself disinherited and cut 
 off from the possession of a fair estate, by virtue 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 dinner-time, 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 con- 
 verted me to 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 cur- 
 rent 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.
 
 ADVENTURES OF A SHILLING. 335 
 
 ' I shall pass over many other accidents of less mo- 
 ment, 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 shears, cut off 
 my titles, clipped my 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 myself 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 ca- 
 lamity, when everybody thought our misfortune irre- 
 trievable, 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 bur- 
 lesque poem in the British language, entitled 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 a mistake, the person 
 who gave me having heedlessly thrown me into the 
 hat among a pennyworth of farthings.'
 
 My friend Will. Honeycomb has told me, for above 
 this half year, that he had a great mind to try his 
 hand at a Spectator, and that he would fain have one 
 of his writing in my works. This morning I received 
 from him the following letter, which, after having 
 rectified some little orthographical mistakes, I shall 
 make a present of to the public. 
 
 'Dear Spec, 
 
 I was, about two nights ago, in company with 
 very agreeable young people of both sexes, where 
 talking of some of your papers which are written on 
 conjugal love, there arose a dispute among us, whether 
 there were not more bad husbands in the world than 
 bad wives. A gentleman, who was advocate for the 
 ladies, took this occasion to tell us the story of a 
 famous siege in Germany, which I have since found 
 related in my historical dictionary, after the following 
 manner. When the emperor Conrade the Third had 
 besieged Guelphus, duke of Bavaria, in the city of 
 Hensberg, the women, finding that the town could not 
 hold out long, petitioned the emperor that they might 
 depart out of it, with so much as each of them could 
 carry. The emperor, knowing they could not convey 
 away many of their effects, granted them their peti- 
 tion ; when the women, to his great surprise, came 
 out of the place with every one her husband upon her 
 back. The emperor was so moved at the sight, that 
 he burst into tears, and after having very much extolled 
 the women for their conjugal affection, gave the men 
 to their wives, and received the duke into his favour.
 
 HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 337 
 
 'The ladies did not a little triumph at this story, 
 asking us at the same time, whether in our consciences 
 we believed that the men of any town in Great Britain 
 would, upon the same offer, and at the same con- 
 juncture, have loaden themselves with their wives ; 
 or rather, whether they would not have been glad 
 of such an opportunity to get rid of them ? To 
 this, my very good friend Tom Dapperwit, who took 
 upon him to be the mouth of our sex, replied, that 
 they would be very much to blame, if they would not 
 do the same good office for the women, considering 
 that their strength would be greater, and their burdens 
 lighter. As we were amusing ourselves with dis- 
 courses of this nature, in order to pass away the 
 evening, which now begins to grow tedious, we fell 
 into that laudable and primitive diversion of questions 
 and commands. I was no sooner vested with the 
 regal authority, but I enjoined all the ladies, under 
 pain of my displeasure, to tell the company inge- 
 nuously, in case they had been in the siege above- 
 mentioned, and had the same offers made them as 
 the good women of that place, what every one of 
 them would have brought off with her, and have 
 thought most worth the saving ? There were several 
 merry answers made to my question, which enter- 
 tained us till bed-time. This filled my mind with such 
 a huddle of ideas, that upon my going to sleep, I fell 
 into the following dream. 
 
 ' I saw a town of this island, which shall be name- 
 less, invested on every side, and the inhabitants of it 
 so straitened as to cry for quarter. The general re- 
 fused any other terms than those granted to the above- 
 mentioned town of Hensberg, namely, that the married 
 women might come out with what they could bring 
 along with them. Immediately the gate flew open, 
 and a female procession appeared, multitudes of the 
 sex following one another in a row, and staggering 
 under their respective burdens. I took my stand 
 upon an eminence in the enemy's cam]), which was 
 appointed for the general rendezvous of these female 
 carriers, being very desirous to look into their several 
 z
 
 338 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 ladings. The first of them had a huge sack upon her 
 shoulders, which she set down with great care : upon 
 the opening of it, when I expected to have seen her 
 husband shoot out of it, I found it was filled with 
 china ware. The next appeared in a more decent 
 figure, carrying a handsome young fellow upon her 
 back : I could not forbear commending the young 
 woman for her conjugal affection, when, to my great 
 surprise, I found that she had left the good man at 
 home, and brought away her gallant. I saw the third, 
 at some distance, with a little withered face peeping 
 over her shoulder, whom I could not suspect for any but 
 her spouse, till upon her setting him down I heard her 
 call him dear Pug, and found him to be her favourite 
 monkey. A fourth brought a huge bale of cards along 
 with her ; and the fifth a Bolonia lap-dog : for her 
 husband, it seems, being a very burly man, she 
 thought it would be less trouble for her to bring away 
 little Cupid. The next was the wife of a rich usurer, 
 loaden with a bag of gold ; she told us that her spouse 
 was very old, and by the course of nature, could not 
 expect to live long ; and that to show her tender 
 regards for him, she had saved that which the poor 
 man loved better than his life. The next came to- 
 wards us with her son upon her back, who, we were 
 told, was the greatest rake in the place, but so much 
 the mother's darling, that she left her husband behind, 
 with a large family of hopeful sons and daughters, for 
 the sake of this graceless youth. 
 
 ' It would be endless to mention the several per- 
 sons, with their several loads, that appeared to me in 
 this strange vision. All the place about me was 
 covered with packs of ribbon, brocades, embroidery, 
 and ten thousand other materials, sufficient to have 
 furnished a whole street of toy-shops. One of the 
 women having a husband that was none of the 
 heaviest, was bringing him off upon her shoulders, at 
 the same time that she carried a great bundle of 
 Flanders lace under her arm ; but finding herself so 
 over-loaden, that she could not save both of them, 
 she dropped the good man, and brought away the
 
 HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 339 
 
 bundle. In short, I found but one husband among 
 this great mountain of baggage, who was a hvely 
 cobbler, and kicked and spurred all the while his wife 
 was carrying him on, and, as it was said, had scarce 
 passed a day in his life without giving her the dis- 
 cipline of the strap. 
 
 ' I cannot conclude my letter, dear Spec, without 
 telling thee one very odd whim in this my dream. I 
 saw, methought, a dozen women employed in bringing 
 off one man ; I could not guess who it should be, till 
 upon his nearer approach I discovered thy short phiz. 
 The women all declared that it was for the sake of thy 
 works, and not thy person, that they brought thee off, 
 and that it was on condition that thou shouldst con- 
 tinue the Spectator. If thou thinkest this dream will 
 make a tolerable one, it is at thy service, from, 
 
 ' Dear Spec, thine, sleeping and waking, 
 
 Will. Honeycomb.' 
 
 The ladies will see by this letter, what I have often 
 told them, that Will, is one of those old-fashioned 
 men of wit and pleasure of the town, that shows his 
 parts by raillery on marriage, and one who has often 
 tried his fortune that way without success. I cannot, 
 however, dismiss his letter, without observing, that 
 the true story on which it is built, does honour to the 
 sex, and that, in order to abuse them, the writer is 
 obliged to have recourse to dream and fiction. 
 
 Z 2
 
 illcligions in S^SnxhJorfi. 
 
 Every nation is distinguished by productions that 
 are peculiar to it. Great Britain is particularly fruit- 
 ful 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 re- 
 turned from his travels, assures me, there is a show at 
 this time carried up and down in Germany, which 
 represents all the religions in Great Britain in wax- 
 work. 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 screwed 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 : 
 
 ' 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
 
 RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 34I 
 
 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, stentorophonic trumpet, with several wind in- 
 struments of a most disagreeable sound, which I do 
 not so much as know the names of. After a short 
 flourish, the curtain was drawn up, and we were pre- 
 sented with the most extraordinary assembly of figures 
 that ever entered into a man's imagination. The de- 
 sign 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, con- 
 sisting 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 of an elderly woman of 
 quality in Queen Elizabeth's days. The most remark- 
 able parts of her dress, were the beaver with the 
 steeple crown, the scarf that was darker than sable, 
 and the lawn apron that was whiter than ermine.
 
 342 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 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 cheerfulness 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 senti- 
 ments 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 ribbons, silks, and jewels, 
 and therefore cast my eye on a dame which was just 
 the reverse of it. I need not tell my reader, that the 
 lady before described was Popery, or that she I am 
 now going to describe is Presbytery. She sat on the
 
 RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 343 
 
 left hand of the venerable matron, and so much re- 
 sembled her in the features of her countenance, that 
 she seemed her sister ; but at the same time that one 
 observed a likeness in her beauty, one could not but 
 take notice, that there was something in it sickly and 
 splenetic. Her face had enough to discover the re- 
 lation, but it was drawn up into a peevish figure, 
 soured 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 herself a plain 
 homely dowdy, and turned her face towards the 
 sectaries that sat on the 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, repre- 
 sented 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 weep- 
 ing 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 a half-naked awkward country 
 wench, who with proper ornaments and education 
 would have made an agreeable and beautiful appear- 
 ance ; 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
 
 344 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 of the matron, and who, according to the order in 
 which they sat, were Deism, Judaism, 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 Hydrophobia : 
 but considering what the intention of the show was, I 
 immediately recollected myself, 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 to the horizon : his gar- 
 ment had neither sleeve nor skirt, nor so much as a 
 superfluous button. What he called his cravat, was 
 a little piece of white linen quilled with great exact- 
 ness, 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 Quaker's 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 ihouj 
 and as for yoi(, 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 parti- 
 ciples ending all in ing or ed, which were marked with 
 a particular accent. There were no adverbs besides 
 yea and tiay. The same thrift was observed in the 
 prepositions. The conjunctions were only hem ! and
 
 RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 345 
 
 ha I and the interjections brought under the three 
 heads of sighing, sobbing, and groaning. There was 
 at ihe end of the grammar a little nomenclature, called 
 "The Christian Man's Vocabulary," which gave new 
 appellations, or (if you will) Christian names to almost 
 everything 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 idiot is supposed to say in his 
 heart what David's fool did some thousands of years 
 ago, and was therefore designed as a proper repre- 
 sentative of those among us who are called atheists 
 and infidels by others, and free-thinkers by them- 
 selves. 
 
 ' There were many other groups 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 inquired 
 after their religion, and found that they called them- 
 selves the Philadelphians, or the family of love. 
 
 * In the opposite corner there sat another little con- 
 gregation 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 clock-work, 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
 
 346 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 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 on the fore- 
 heads of these dead men several hard words, as Prae- 
 Adamites, Sabbatarians, Cameronians, Muggletonians, 
 Brownists, Independents, Masonites, Camisars, and 
 the like. At the approach of Persecution, it was so 
 contrived, that as she held up her bloody flag, the 
 whole assembly of dead men, like those in the Re- 
 hearsal, 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 Con- 
 science,' immediately fell into a heap of carcasses, 
 remaining in the same quiet posture that they lay at 
 first.'
 
 a §xknti of iWani^fnlr 
 
 Charity is a virtue of the heart, and not of the 
 hands, says an old writer. Gifts and alms are the 
 expressions, not the essence, of this virtue. A man 
 may bestow great sums on the poor and indigent, 
 without being charitable, and may be charitable when 
 he is not able to bestow anything. Charity is there- 
 fore a habit of good will, or benevolence, in the soul, 
 which disposes us to the love, assistance, and relief of 
 mankind, especially of those who stand in need of it. 
 The poor man who has this excellent frame of mind, 
 is no less entitled to the reward of this virtue, than 
 the man who founds a college. For my own part, I 
 am charitable to an extravagance this way. I never 
 saw an indigent person in my life without reaching 
 out to him some of this imaginary relief. I cannot 
 but sympathize with every one I meet that is in 
 affliction ; and if my abilities were equal to my 
 wishes, there should be neither pain nor poverty in 
 the world. 
 
 To give my reader a right notion of myself in this 
 particular, I shall present him with the secret history 
 of one of the most remarkable parts of my life. 
 
 I was once engaged in search of the philosopher's 
 stone. It is frequently observed of men who have 
 been busied in this pursuit, that though they have 
 failed in their principal design, they have, however,
 
 348 VARIOUS ESSAYS, 
 
 made such discoveries in their way to it, as have 
 sufficiently recompensed their inquiries. In the same 
 manner, though I cannot boast of my success in that 
 afifair, I do not repent of my engaging in it, because it 
 produced in my mind such an habitual exercise of 
 charity, as made it much better than perhaps it would 
 have been, had I never been lost in so pleasing a 
 delusion. 
 
 As I did not question but I should soon have a new 
 Indies in my possession, I was perpetually taken up 
 in considering how to turn it to the benefit of man- 
 kind. In order to it I employed a whole day in walk- 
 ing about this great city, to find out proper places for 
 the erection of hospitals. I had likewise entertained 
 that project, which had since succeeded in another 
 place, of building churches at the court end of the 
 town, with this only difference, that instead of fifty, I 
 intended to have built a hundred, and to have seen 
 them all finished in less than one year. 
 
 I had with great pains and application got together 
 a list of all the French Protestants ; and by the best 
 accounts I could come at, had calculated the value of 
 all those estates and effects which every one of them 
 had left in his own country for the sake of his re- 
 ligion, being fully determined to make it up to him, 
 and return some of them the double of what they 
 had lost. 
 
 As I was one day in my laboratory, my operator, 
 who was to fill my coffers for me, and used to foot 
 it from the other end of the town every morning, com- 
 plained of a sprain in his leg, that he had met with 
 over against St. Clement's church. This so affected 
 me, that, as a standing mark of my gratitude to him,
 
 A FRIEND OF MANKIND. 349 
 
 and out of compassion to the rest of my fellow-citizenS, 
 I resolved to new pave every street within the liberties, 
 and entered a memorandum in my pocket-book ac- 
 cordingly. About the same time I entertained some 
 thoughts of mending all the highways on this side 
 the Tweed, and of making all the rivers in England 
 navigable. 
 
 But the project I had most at heart, was the settling 
 upon every man in Great Britain three pounds a year, 
 (in which sum may be comprised, according to Sir 
 William Pettit's observations, all the necessities of 
 life,) leaving to them whatever else they could get by 
 their own industry, to lay out on superfluities. 
 
 I was above a week debating in myself what I 
 should do in the matter of Impropriations ; but at 
 length came to a resolution to buy them all up, and 
 restore them to the church. 
 
 As I was one day walking near St. Paul's, I took 
 some time to survey that structure, and not being 
 entirely satisfied with it, though I could not tell why, 
 I had some thoughts of pulling it down, and building 
 it up anew at my own expense. 
 
 For my own part, as I have no pride in me, I in- 
 tended to take up with a coach and six, half a dozen 
 footmen, and live like a private gentleman. 
 
 It happened about this time that public matters 
 looked very gloomy, taxes came hard, the war went 
 on heavily, people complained of the great burdens 
 that were laid upon them ; this made me resolve to 
 set aside one morning, to consider seriously the state 
 of the nation. I was the more ready to enter on it, 
 because I was obliged, whether I would or no, to sit 
 at home in my morning gown, having, after a most
 
 35° VARIOUS ESSAYS, 
 
 incredible expense, pawned a new suit of clothes, and 
 a full-bottomed wig, for a sum of money which my 
 operator assured me was the last he should want to 
 bring all matters to bear. 
 
 After having considered many projects, I at length 
 resolved to beat the common enemy at his own 
 weapons, and laid a scheme which would have blown 
 him up in a quarter of a year, had things succeeded 
 to my wishes. As I was in this golden dream, some- 
 body knocked at my door. I opened it, and found it 
 was a messenger that brought me a letter from the 
 laboratory. The fellow looked so miserably poor, that 
 I was resolved to make his fortune before he delivered 
 his message ; but seeing he brought a letter from my 
 operator, I concluded I was bound to it in honour, as 
 much as a prince is to give a reward to one that 
 brings him the first news of a victory. I knew this 
 was the long-expected hour of projection, and which 
 I had waited for, with gi-eat impatience, above half a 
 year before. In short, I broke open my letter in a 
 transport of joy, and found it as follows. 
 
 'Sir, 
 
 After having got out of you everything you can 
 conveniently spare, I scorn to trespass upon your 
 generous nature, and, therefore, must ingenuously 
 confess to you, that I know no more of the philoso- 
 pher's stone than you do. I shall only tell you for 
 your comfort, that I never yet could bubble a block- 
 head out of his money. They must be men of wit 
 and parts who are for my purpose. This made me 
 apply myself to a person of your wealth and ingenuity. 
 How I have succeeded, you yourself can best tell. 
 ' Your humble servant to command, 
 Thomas White.' 
 
 * I have locked up the laboratory, and laid the key 
 under the door.'
 
 A FRIEND OF MANKIND- 351 
 
 I was very much shocked at the unworthy treat- 
 ment of this man, and not a little mortified at my dis- 
 appointment, though not so much for what I myself, 
 as what the public, suffered by it. I think, however, 
 I ought to let the world know what I designed for 
 them, and hope that such of my readers who find they 
 had a share in my good intentions, will accept the will 
 for the deed.
 
 Bemurrcrs in Hobe. 
 
 As my correspondents upon the subjects of love are 
 very numerous, it is my design, if possible, to range 
 them under several heads, and address myself to them 
 at different times. The first branch of them, to whose 
 service I shall dedicate this paper, are those that have 
 to do with women of dilatory tempers, who are for 
 spinning out the time of courtship to an immoderate 
 length, without being able either to close with their 
 lovers or to dismiss them. I have many letters by me 
 filled with complaints against this sort of women. In 
 one of them no less a man than a brother of the coif 
 tells me, that he began his suit Viceslnio 110710 Cat'oli 
 Scaindi, before he had been a twelvemonth at the 
 Temple ; that he prosecuted it for many years after 
 he was called to the bar ; that at present he is a 
 serjeant-at-law ; and, notwithstanding he hoped that 
 matters would have been long since brought to an 
 issue, the fair one demurs. I am so well pleased with 
 this gentleman's phrase, that I shall distinguish this 
 sect of women by the title of Demurrers. I find by 
 another letter, from one that calls himself Thyrsis, 
 that his mistress has been demurring above these 
 seven years. But among all my plaintiffs of this 
 nature, I most pity the unfortunate Philander, a man 
 of a constant passion and plentiful fortune, who sets 
 forth, that the timorous and irresolute Sylvia has
 
 DEMURRERS IN LOVE. 353 
 
 demurred till she is past child-bearing. Strephon 
 appears by his letter to be a very choleric lover, and 
 irrevocably smitten with one that demurs out of self- 
 interest. He tells me with great passion, that she has 
 bubbled him out of his youth ; that she drilled him on 
 to five-and-fifty ; and that he verily believes she will 
 drop him in his old age if she can find her account in 
 another. I shall conclude this narrative with a letter 
 from honest Sam. Hopewell, a very pleasant fellow, 
 who it seems has at last married a demurrer : I must 
 only premise, that Sam, who is a very good bottle 
 companion, has been the diversion of his friends, upon 
 account of his passion, ever since the year one thou- 
 sand six hundred and eighty-one. 
 
 'Dear Sir, 
 
 You know very well my passion for Mrs. Martha, 
 and what a dance she has led me : she took me out at 
 the age of two-and-twenty, and dodged with me above 
 thirty years. I have loved her till she is grown as grey 
 as a cat, and am with much ado become the master of 
 her person, such as it is at present. She is, however, 
 in my eye, a very charming old woman. We often 
 lament that we did not marry sooner, but she has 
 nobody to blame for it but herself You know very 
 well that she would never think of me whilst she had 
 a tooth in her head. I have put the date of my pas- 
 sion, (Anno Ajnoris trigesiino priino,) instead of a 
 posie, on my wedding-ring. I expect you should send 
 me a congratulatory letter ; or, if you please, an 
 epithalamium, upon this occasion. 
 
 ' Mrs. Martha's and yours eternally, 
 
 'Sam. Hopewell.' 
 
 In order to banish an evil out of the world, that does 
 not only produce great uneasiness to private persons, 
 but has also a very bad influence on the public, I shall 
 A a
 
 354 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 endeavour to show the folly of demurring, from two or 
 three reflections, which I earnestly recommend to the 
 thoughts of my fair readers. 
 
 First of all, I would have them seriously think on 
 the shortness of their time. Life is not long enough 
 for a coquette to play all her tricks in. A timorous 
 woman drops into her grave before she has done de- 
 liberating. Were the age of man the same that it was 
 before the flood, a lady might sacrifice half a century 
 to a scruple, and be two or three ages in demurring. 
 Had she nine hundred years good, she might hold 
 out to the conversion of the Jews before she thought 
 fit to be prevailed upon. But, alas ! she ought to 
 play her part in haste, when she considers that she 
 is suddenly to quit the stage, and make room for 
 others. 
 
 In the second place, I would desire my female 
 readers to consider, that as the term of life is short, 
 that of beauty is much shorter. The finest skin 
 wrinkles in a few years, and loses the strength of its 
 colouring so soon, that we have scarce time to admire 
 it. I might embellish this subject with roses and rain- 
 bows, and several other ingenious conceits, which I 
 may possibly reserve for another opportunity. 
 
 There is a third consideration, which I would like- 
 wise recommend to a demurrer, and that is, the great 
 danger of her falling in love when she is about three- 
 score, if she cannot satisfy her doubts and scruples 
 before that time. There is a kind of latter spring, that 
 sometimes gets into the blood of an old woman, and 
 turns her into a very odd sort of an animal. I would 
 therefore have the demurrer consider what a strange 
 figure she will make, if she chances to get over all
 
 DEMURRERS IN I.OVE. 355 
 
 difficulties, and comes to a final resolution, in that 
 unseasonable part of her life. 
 
 I would not, however, be understood by anything I 
 have here said, to discourage that natural modesty in 
 the sex, which renders a retreat from the first ap- 
 proaches of a lover both fashionable and graceful ; 
 all that I intend is, to advise them, when they are 
 prompted by reason and inclination, to demur only 
 out of form, and so far as decency requires. A vir- 
 tuous woman should reject the first offer of marriage, 
 as a good man does that of a bishopric ; but I would 
 advise neither the one nor the other to persist in 
 refusing what they secretly approve. 
 
 Aaa
 
 It has always been my endeavour to distinguish 
 between reahties and appearances, and separate true 
 merit from the pretence to it. As it shall ever be my 
 study to make discoveries of this nature in human 
 life, and to settle the proper distinctions between the 
 virtues and perfections of mankind, and those false 
 colours and resemblances of them that shine alike in 
 the eyes of the vulgar ; so I shall be more particularly 
 careful to search into the various merits and pretences 
 of the learned world. This is the more necessary, 
 because there seems to be a general combination 
 among the pedants to extol one another's labours, and 
 cry up one another's parts ; while men of sense, either 
 through that modesty which is natural to them, or the 
 scorn they have for such trifling commendations, enjoy 
 their stock of knowledge like a hidden treasure, with 
 satisfaction and silence. Pedantry, indeed, in learn- 
 ing, is like hypocrisy in religion, a form of knowledge 
 without the power of it, that attracts the eyes of 
 common people, breaks out in noise and show, and 
 finds its reward, not from any inward pleasure that 
 attends it, but from the praises and approbations 
 which it receives from men. 
 
 Of this shallow species there is not a more impor- 
 tunate, empty, and conceited animal, than that which 
 is generally known by the name of a critic. This, in
 
 SIR TIMOTHY TITTLE. 357 
 
 the common acceptation of the word, is one that, 
 without entering into the sense and soul of an author, 
 has a few general rules, which, like mechanical in- 
 struments, he applies to the works of every writer, and 
 as they quadrate with them, pronounces the author 
 perfect or defective. He is master of a certain set of 
 words, as Unity, Style, Fire, Phlegm, Easy, Natural, 
 Turn, Sentiment, and the like ; which he varies, com- 
 pounds, divides, and throws together, in every part of 
 his discourse, without any thought or meaning. The 
 marks you may know him by are, an elevated eye, 
 and dogmatical brow, a positive voice, and a contempt 
 for everything that comes out, whether he has read it 
 or not. He dwells altogether in generals. He praises 
 or dispraises in the lump. He shakes his head very 
 frequently at the pedantry of universities, and bursts 
 into laughter when you mention an author that is 
 known at Will's. He hath formed his judgment upon 
 Homer, Horace, and Virgil, not from their own works, 
 but from those of Rapin and Bossu. He knows his 
 own strength so well, that he never dares praise any- 
 thing in which he has not a French author for his 
 voucher. 
 
 With these extraordinary talents and accomplish- 
 ments. Sir Timothy Tittle puts men in vogue, or 
 condemns them to obscurity, and sits as judge of life 
 and death upon every author that appears in public. 
 It is impossible to represent the pangs, agonies, and 
 convulsions, which Sir Timothy expresses in every 
 feature of his face, and muscle of his body, upon the 
 reading of a bad poet. 
 
 About a week ago I was engaged at a friend's 
 house of mine in an agreeable conversation with his
 
 3S8 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 wife and daughters, when, in the height of our mirth, 
 Sir 'iimothy, who makes love to my friend's eldest 
 daughter, came in amongst us puffing and blowing, 
 as if he had been very much out of breath. He 
 immediately called for a chair, and desired leave to 
 sit down, without any further ceremony. I asked 
 him, ' Where he had been ? Whether he was out of 
 order?' He only repHed, that he was quite spent, and 
 fell a cursing in soliloquy. I could hear him cry, 'A 
 wicked rogue ! — An execrable wretch ! — Was there 
 ever such a monster I ' — The young ladies upon this 
 began to be affrighted, and asked, ' Whether any one 
 had hurt him ?' He answered nothing, but still talked 
 to himself. *To lay the first scene (says he) in 
 St. James's Park, and the last in Northamptonshire 1 ' 
 * Is that all ? (says I :) Then I suppose you have been 
 at the rehearsal of the play this morning.' ' Been ! 
 (says he ;) I have been at Northampton, in the Park, 
 in a lady's bed-chamber, in a dining-room, every- 
 where ; the rogue has led me such a dance ! ' — Though 
 I could scarce forbear laughing at his discourse, I told 
 him I was glad it was no worse, and that he was only 
 metaphorically weary. * In short, sir, (says he,) the 
 author has not observed a single unity in his whole 
 play ; the scene shifts in every dialogue ; the villain 
 has hurried me up and down at such a rate, that I am 
 tired off my legs.' I could not but observe with some 
 pleasure, that the young lady whom he made love to, 
 conceived a veiy just aversion towards him, upon seeing 
 him so very passionate in trifles. And as she had 
 that natural sense which makes her a better judge 
 than a thousand critics, she began to rally him upon 
 this foolish humour. 'For my part, (says she,) I never
 
 SIR TIMOTHY TITTLE, 359 
 
 knew a play take that was written up to your rules, 
 as you call them.' * How, Madani ! (says he,) is that 
 your opinion ? I am sure you have a better taste.' * It 
 is a pretty kind of magic (says she) the poets have to 
 transport an audience from place to place without the 
 help of a coach and horses. I could travel round the 
 world at such a rate. 'Tis such an entertainment as 
 an enchantress finds when she fancies herself in a 
 wood, or upon a mountain, at a feast, or a solemnity ; 
 though at the same time she has never stirred out 
 of her cottage.' 'Your simile, madam, (says Sir 
 Timothy,) is by no means just.' 'Pray, (says she,) 
 let my similes pass without a criticism. I must con- 
 fess, (continued she, for I found she was resolved to 
 exasperate him,) I laughed very heartily at the last 
 new comedy which you found so much fault with.' 
 ' But, madam, (says he,) you ought not to have 
 laughed ; and I defy any one to show me a single rule 
 that you could laugh by.' ' Ought not to laugh ! (says 
 she:) Pray who should hinder me?' 'Madam, (says 
 he,) there are such people in the world as Rapin, 
 Dacier, and several others, that ought to have spoiled 
 your mirth.' ' I have heard, (says the young lady,) 
 that your great critics are very bad poets : I fancy 
 there is as much difference between the works of one 
 and the other, as there is between the carriage of a 
 dancing-master and a gentleman. I must confess, 
 (continued she,) I would not be troubled with so fine 
 a judgment as yours is ; for I find you feel more 
 vexation in a bad comedy, than I do in a deep 
 tragedy.' ' Madam, (says Sir Timothy,) that is not 
 my fault ; they should learn the art of writing.' ' For 
 my part, (says the young lady,) I should think the
 
 360 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 greatest art in your writers of comedies is to please.' 
 ' To please ! ' (says Sir Timothy ;) and immediately 
 fell a laughing. ' Truly, (says she,) that is my opinion.' 
 Upon this, he composed his countenance, looked upon 
 his watch, and took his leave. 
 
 I hear that Sir Timothy has not been at my friend's 
 house since this notable conference, to the satisfaction 
 of the young lady, who by this means has got rid of a 
 very impertinent fop. 
 
 I must confess, I could not but observe, with a great 
 deal of surprise, how this gentleman, by his ill-nature, 
 folly, and affectation, hath made himself capable of 
 suffering so many imaginary pains, and looking with 
 such a senseless severity upon the common diversions 
 of life.
 
 There are no books which I more delight in than 
 in travels, especially those that describe remote coun- 
 tries, 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 Mande- 
 ville 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 public ; and indeed, were 
 they not so well attested, would appear altogether im- 
 probable. 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, I shall make the 
 pubHc a present of these curious pieces at such times 
 as I shall find myself unprovided with other subjects.
 
 363 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 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 terri- 
 tories 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 ab- 
 stracted notions clothed in a visible shape, he adds 
 that apt simile. 
 
 Like words congealed in northern air. 
 
 Not to keep my reader any longer in suspense, 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 refit our vessels, 
 and store ourselves with provisions. The crew of each 
 vessel made themselves a cabin 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 they were condensed and lost. It was now
 
 FROZEN WORDS. 363 
 
 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, strain- 
 ing his lungs, and tearing his throat, but all in vain. 
 
 — Nee vox, nee 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 cabin 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 hiss- 
 ing, which I imputed to the letter S, that occurs so 
 frequently in the EngHsh 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 cabin. 
 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 everything 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 surprise, 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 myself, I con- 
 cluded 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
 
 364 VARIOUS ESSAYS, 
 
 this great surprise we were all in, we heard a volley 
 of oaths and curses, lasting for a long while, and 
 uttered in a very hoarse voice, which I knew belonged 
 to the boatswain, who was a very choleric 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 betrayed 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 ofter at speaking, as fearing I 
 should not be heard, I proposed a visit to the Dutch 
 cabin, which lay about a mile further up into the 
 country. My crew were extremely 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 cabin, we 
 heard the groanings of a bear, which at first startled 
 us ; but upon inquiry 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
 
 FROZEN WORDS. 365 
 
 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 with sighs 
 that smelt of brandy, and several other unsavoury 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 cabin, 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, fell 
 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 j 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 ourselves 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 dissi- 
 pate our chagrin, et ticer le temps."
 
 366 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 Here Sir John gives very good philosophical reasons, 
 why the kit could be heard during the frost ; but as 
 they are something prohx, I pass over them in silence, 
 and shall only observe, that the honourable author 
 seems, by his quotations, to have been well versed in 
 the ancient poets, which perhaps raised his fancy 
 above the ordinary pitch of historians, and very much 
 contributed to the embellishment of his writings.
 
 ^!je ^all (Slub. 
 
 I DO not care for burning my fingers in a quarrel 
 but since I have communicated to the world a plan, 
 which has given offence to some gentlemen whom it 
 would not be very safe to disoblige, I must insert 
 the following remonstrance ; and, at the same time, 
 promise those of my correspondents who have drawn 
 this upon themselves, to exhibit to the public any such 
 answer as they shall think proper to make to it. 
 
 * Mr. Guardian, 
 
 I was very much troubled to see the two letters 
 which you lately published concerning the Short Club. 
 You cannot imagine what airs all the little pragmatical 
 fellows about us have given themselves, since the 
 reading of those papers. Every one cocks and struts 
 upon it, and pretends to over-look us who are two foot 
 higher than themselves. I met with one the other 
 day who was at least three inches above five foot, 
 which you know is the statutable measure of that club. 
 This overgrown runt has struck off his heels, lowered 
 his foretop, and contracted his figure, that he might 
 be looked upon as a member of this new-erected 
 society ; nay, so far did his vanity carry him, that he 
 talked familiarly of Tom Tiptoe, and pretends to be 
 an intimate acquaintance of Tim. Tuck. For my part, 
 I scorn to speak anything to the diminution of these 
 little creatures, and should not have minded them, 
 had they been still shuffled among the crowd. Shrubs 
 and underwoods look well enougli while they grow 
 within the shade of oaks and cedars, but when these 
 pigmies pretend to draw themselves out from the rest
 
 368 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 of the world, and form themselves into a body, it is 
 time for us, who are men of figure, to look about us. 
 If the ladies should once take a liking to such a 
 * , , diminutive race of lovers, we should, in a little time, 
 i z^*^^' ■ ^^^ mankind epitomized, and the whole species in 
 ^m-lLcn-u miniature ; daisy roots would grow a fashionable diet. 
 ^'O^hoitu' In order, therefore, to keep our posterity from dwin- 
 dling, and fetch down the pride of this aspiring race 
 of upstarts, we have here instituted a Tall Club. 
 
 'As the short club consists of those who are under 
 five foot, ours is to be composed of such as are above 
 six. These we look upon as the two extremes and 
 antagonists of the species ; considering all those as 
 neuters who fill up the middle space. When a man 
 rises beyond six foot, he is an hypermeter, and maybe 
 admitted into the tall club. 
 
 ' We have already chosen thirty members, the most 
 sightly of all her Majesty's subjects. We elected a 
 president, as many of the ancients did their kings, by 
 reason of his height, having only confirmed him in 
 that station above us which nature had given him. 
 He is a Scotch Highlander, and within an inch of a 
 show. As for my own part, I am but a sesquipedal, 
 having only six foot and a half of stature. Being the 
 shortest member of the club, I am appointed secre- 
 tary. If you saw us altogether, you would take us for 
 the sons of Anak. Our meetings are held, like the 
 old Gothic parliaments, sud d/'o, in open air ; but 
 we shall make an interest, if we can, that we may hold 
 our assemblies in Westminster Hall when it is not 
 term-time. I must add, to the honour of our club, 
 that it is one of our society who is now finding out the 
 longitude. The device of our public seal is a crane 
 grasping a pigmy in his right foot. 
 
 * I know the short club value themselves very much 
 upon Mr. Distich, who may possibly play some of his 
 Pentameters upon us, but if he docs, he shall cer- 
 tainly be answered in Alexandrines. For we have a 
 poet among us of a genius as exalted as his stature, 
 and who is very well read in Longinus's treatise con- 
 cerning the sublime. Besides, I would have Mr.
 
 THE TALL CLUB. 369 
 
 Distich consider, that if Horace was a short man, 
 Musaeus, who makes such a noble figure in Virgil's 
 sixth yEneid, was taller by the head and shoulders 
 than all the people of Elysium. I shall therefore, con- 
 front his lepidissimuin hojuuncionem (a short quotation, 
 and fit for a member of their club) with one that is 
 much longer, and therefore more suitable to a member 
 of ours. 
 
 Quos circumfusos sic est afifata Sibylla, 
 
 Musseum ante omnes : medium nam plurima turba 
 
 Hunc habet, atque humeris exstantem suspicit altis. 
 
 *If, after all, this society of little men proceed as 
 they have begun, to magnify themselves, and lessen 
 men of higher stature, we have resolved to make a 
 detachment, some evening or other, that shall bring 
 away their whole club in a pair of panniers, and im- 
 prison them in a cupboard which we have set apart 
 ibr that use, till they have made a public recantation. 
 As for the little bully, Tim. Tuck, if he pretends to be 
 choleric, we shall treat him like his friend little Dicky, 
 and hang him upon a peg till he comes to himself. I 
 have told you our design, and let their little Machiavel 
 prevent it if he can. 
 
 ' This is, sir, the long and short of the matter. I 
 am sensible I shall stir up a nest of wasps by it, but 
 let them do their worst, I think that we serve our 
 country by discouraging this little breed, and hinder- 
 ing it from coming into fashion. If the fair sex look 
 upon us with an eye of favour, we shall make some 
 attempts to lengthen out the human figure, and restore 
 it to its ancient procerity. In the mean time, we hope 
 old age has not inclined you in favour of our an- 
 tagonists, for I do assure you, we are all your high 
 admirers, though none more than, 
 
 D , . 'Sir, Yours, &C. 
 
 Bb
 
 ^Wtt m Uobe. 
 
 It is an old observation, which has been made of 
 politicians who would rather ingratiate themselves 
 with their sovereign, than promote his real service, 
 that they accommodate their counsels to his incli- 
 nations, and advise him to such actions only as his 
 heart is naturally set upon. The privy-counsellor of 
 one in love must observe the same conduct, unless he 
 would forfeit the friendship of the person who desires 
 his advice. I have known several odd cases of this 
 nature. Hipparchus was going to marry a common 
 woman, but being resolved to do nothing without the 
 advice of his friend Philander, he consulted him upon 
 the occasion. Philander told him his mind freely, 
 and represented his mistress to him in such strong 
 colours, that the next morning he received a challenge 
 for his pains, and before twelve o'clock was run 
 through the body by the man who had asked his 
 advice. Celia was more prudent on the like occasion ; 
 she desired Leonilla to give her opinion freely upon a 
 young fellow who made his addresses to her. Leonilla, 
 to oblige her, told her with great frankness, that she 
 
 looked upon him as one of the most worthless 
 
 Celia, foreseeing what a character she was to expect, 
 begged her not to go on, for that she had been pri- 
 vately married to him above a fortnight. The truth 
 of it is, a woman seldom asks advice before she has
 
 ADVICE IN LOVE. 371 
 
 bought her wedding-clothes. When she has made 
 her own choice, for form's sake she sends a conge 
 ^ elire to her friends. 
 
 If we look into the secret springs and motives that 
 set people at work on these occasions, and put them 
 upon asking advice, which they never intend to take ; 
 I look upon it to be none of the least, that they are 
 incapable of keeping a secret which is so very pleasing 
 to them. A girl longs to tell her confidant, that she 
 hopes to be married in a little time, and, in order to 
 talk of the pretty fellow that dwells so much in her 
 thoughts, asks her very gravely, what she would advise 
 her to in a case of so much difficulty. Why else 
 should Melissa, who had not a thousand pounds in 
 the world, go into every quarter of the town to ask 
 her acquaintance whether they would advise her to 
 take Tom Townly, that made his addresses to her 
 with an estate of five thousand a year? 'Tis very 
 pleasant on this occasion, to hear the lady propose 
 her doubts, and to see the pains she is at to get 
 over them. 
 
 I must not here omit a practice that is in use among 
 the vainer part of our own sex, who will often ask a 
 friend's advice, in relation to a fortune whom they are 
 never likely to come at. Will. Honeycomb, who is 
 now on the verge of threescore, took me aside not 
 long since, and asked me in his most serious look, 
 whether I would advise him to marry my Lady Betty 
 Single, who, by the way, is one of the greatest for- 
 tunes about town. I stared him full in the face upon 
 so strange a question ; upon which he immediately 
 gave me an inventory of her jewels and estate, adding, 
 that he was resolved to do nothing in a matter of such 
 Bb 2
 
 372 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 consequence without my approbation. Finding he 
 would have an answer, I told him, if he could get the 
 lady's consent, he had mine. This is about the tenth 
 match which, to my knowledge. Will, has consulted 
 his friends upon, without ever opening his mind to 
 the party herself. 
 
 I have been engaged in this subject by the following 
 letter, which comes to me from some notable young 
 female scribe, who, by the contents of it, seems to 
 have carried matters so far, that she is ripe for asking 
 advice ; but as I would not lose her good-will, nor for- 
 feit the reputation which I have with her for wisdom, 
 I shall only communicate the letter to the public, 
 without returning any answer to it. 
 
 * Mr. Spectator, 
 
 Now, sir, the thing is this : Mr. Shapely is the 
 prettiest gentleman about town. He is very tall, but 
 not too tall neither. He dances like an angel. His 
 mouth is made I do not know how, but it is the pret- 
 tiest that I ever saw in my life. He is always laughing, 
 for he has an infinite deal of wit. If you did but see 
 how he rolls his stockings ! He has a thousand pretty 
 fancies, and I am sure, if you saw him, you would like 
 him. He is a very good scholar, and can talk Latin 
 as fast as English. I wish you could but see him 
 dance. Now you must understand poor Mr. Shapely 
 has no estate ; but how can he help that, you know ? 
 and yet my friends are so unreasonable as to be 
 always teasing me about him, because he has no 
 estate : but I am sure he has that that is better than 
 an estate ; for he is a good-natured, ingenious, modest, 
 civil, tall, well-bred, handsome man, and I am obliged 
 to him for his civilities ever since I saw him. I forgot 
 to tell you that he has black eyes, and looks upon me 
 now and then as if he had tears in them. And yet my 
 friends are so unreasonable, that they would have me
 
 ADVICE IN LOVE. 373 
 
 be uncivil to him. I have a good portion which they 
 cannot hinder me of, and I shall be fourteen on the 
 29th day of August next, and am therefore willing to 
 settle in the world as soon as I can, and so is Mr. 
 Shapely. But everj'body I advise with here is poor 
 Mr. Shapely's enemy. I desire, therefore, you will 
 give me your advice, for I know you are a wise man ; 
 and if you advise me well, I am resolved to follow it. 
 I heartily wish you could see him dance, and am, 
 
 'Sir, your most humble servant, 
 
 13. D.' 
 'He loves your Spectators mightily.'
 
 When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk 
 by myself in Westminster Abbey ; where the gloomi- 
 ness of the place, and the use to which it is applied, 
 with the solemnity of the building, and the condition 
 of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with 
 a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that is 
 not disagreeable. I yesterday passed a whole after- 
 noon in the churchyard, the cloisters, and the church, 
 amusing myself with the tombstones and inscriptions 
 that I met with in those several regions of the dead. 
 Most of them recorded nothing else of the buried per- 
 son, but that he was born upon one day, and died 
 upon another : the whole history of his hfe being 
 comprehended in those two circumstances, that are 
 common to all mankind. I could not but look upon 
 these registers of existence, whether of brass or marble, 
 as a kind of satire upon the departed persons ; who 
 had left no other memorial of them, but that they were 
 ' born and that they died. They put me in mind of 
 several persons mentioned in the battles of heroic 
 poems, who have sounding names given them, for no 
 other reason but that they may be killed, and are 
 celebrated for nothing but being knocked on the 
 head. 
 
 T\avK6v T€ 'MfSovrA re QtpaiKoxoi' re. Hom. 
 Glaucumque, Medontaque, Thersilochumque. ViRO.
 
 THOUGHTS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 37$ 
 
 The life of these men is finely described in holy writ 
 by ' the path of an arrow,' which is immediately closed 
 up and lost. 
 
 Upon my going into the church, I entertained my- 
 self with the digging of a grave ; and saw in every 
 shovelful of it that was thrown up, the fragment of 
 a bone or skull intermixt with a kind of fresh moulder- 
 ing earth, that some time or other had a place in the 
 composition of a human body. Upon this I began to 
 consider with myself what innumerable multitudes of 
 people lay confused together under the pavement 
 of that ancient cathedral ; how men and women, 
 friends and enemies, priests and soldiers, monks and 
 prebendaries, were crumbled amongst one another, 
 and blended together in the same common mass ; 
 how beauty, strength, and youth, with old age, weak- 
 ness, and deformity, lay undistinguished in the same 
 promiscuous heap of matter. 
 
 After having thus surveyed this great magazine of 
 mortality, as it were, in the lump ; I examined it more 
 particularly by the accounts which I found on several 
 of the monuments which are raised in every quarter of 
 that ancient fabric. Some of them were covered with 
 such extravagant epitaphs, that, if it were possible for 
 the dead person to be acquainted with them, he would 
 blush at the praises which his friends have bestowed 
 upon him. There are others so excessively modest, 
 that they deliver the character of the person departed 
 in Greek or Hebrew, and by that means are not un-' 
 derstood once in a twelvemonth. In the poetical 
 quarter, I found there were poets who had no monu- 
 ments, and monuments which had no poets. I ob- 
 served, indeed, that the present war had filled the
 
 375 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 
 
 church with many of these uninhabited monuments, 
 which had been erected to the memory of persons 
 whose bodies were perhaps buried in the plains of 
 Blenheim, or in the bosom of the ocean. 
 
 I could not but be very much delighted with several 
 modern epitaphs, which are written with great elegance 
 of expression and justness of thought, and therefore do 
 honour to the living as well as to the dead. As a 
 foreigner is very apt to conceive an idea of the ignor- 
 ance or politeness of a nation, from the turn of their 
 public monuments and inscriptions, they should be 
 submitted to the perusal of men of learning and 
 genius, before they are put in execution. Sir Cloudesly 
 Shovel's monument has very often given me great 
 offence : instead of the brave rough English Admiral, 
 which was the distinguishing character of that plain 
 gallant man, he is represented on his tomb by the 
 figure of a beau, dressed in a long periwig, and re- 
 posing himself upon velvet cushions under a canopy 
 of state. The inscription is answerable to the monu- 
 ment ; for instead of celebrating the many remarkable 
 actions he had performed in the service of his country, 
 it acquaints us only with the manner of his death, in 
 which it was impossible for him to reap any honour. 
 The Dutch, whom we are apt to despise for want of 
 genius, show an infinitely greater taste of antiquity 
 and politeness in their buildings and works of this 
 nature, than what we meet with in those of our own 
 country. The monuments of their admirals, which 
 have been erected at the public expense, represent 
 them like themselves ; and are adorned with rostral 
 crowns and naval ornaments, with beautiful festoons 
 of seaweed, shells, and coraL
 
 THOUGHTS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 377 
 
 But to return to our subject. I have left the re- 
 positoiy of our English kings for the contemplation 
 of another day, when I shall find my mind disposed 
 for so serious an amusement. I know that entertain- 
 ments of this nature are apt to raise dark and dismal 
 thoughts in timorous minds and gloomy imaginations ; 
 but for my own part, though I am always serious, I 
 do not know what it is to be melancholy ; and can 
 therefore take a view of nature in her deep and solemn 
 scenes, with the same pleasure as in her most gay and 
 delightful ones. By this means I can improve myself 
 with those objects which others consider with terror. 
 When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emo- 
 tion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of 
 the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out ; when 
 I meet with the grief of parents upon a tomb-stone, 
 my heart melts with compassion ; when I see the 
 tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity 
 of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow : 
 when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, 
 when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the 
 holy men that divided the world with their contests 
 and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment 
 on the little competitions, factions, and debates of 
 mankind. When I read the several dates of the 
 tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six 
 hundred years ago, I consider that great day when 
 we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our 
 appearance together.
 
 OXFORD : HORACE HART 
 PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
 
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 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF THE BEST SONGS AND 
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 Selected and arranged, with Notes, by Prof. F. T. Palgrave. 
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 LYRIC LOVE : An Anthology. Edited by William Watson. 
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 Selected by Coventry Patmore. 
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 SIR THOMAS BROWNE'S RELIGIO MEDICI; LETTER 
 
 TO A FRIEND. &c., AND CHRISTIAN MORALS. 
 
 Edited by W. A. Greenhill, M.D. 
 HYDRIOTAPHIA, AND THE GARDEN OF CYRUS. 
 
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 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO 
 
 THAT WHICH IS TO COME. By John Bunyan. 
 POETRY OF BYRON. Chosen and arranged by MATTHEW 
 
 Arnold. 
 SELECTED POEMS OF A. H. CLOUGH. 
 LETTERS OF WILLIAM COWPER. 
 SELECTIONS FROM COWPER'S POEMS. 
 THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 
 BALTHASAR GRACIAN. ART OF WORLDLY WISDOM. 
 
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 HEINE'S LIEDER UND GEDICHTE. Selected and Edited 
 
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 CHRYSOMELA. A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert 
 
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 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. By An Old Boy. 
 THE POETICAL WORKS OF JOHN KEATS. Edited by 
 
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 KEBLE. the CHRISTIAN year. Edited by C. M.Yonge. 
 LAMB'S TALES FROM SHAKSPEARE. Edited by Rev. 
 
 Alfred Ainger, M.A. 
 SELECTIONS FROM WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 
 BALLADS, LYRICS, AND SONNETS. From the Works of 
 
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 THE SPEECHES AND TABLE-TALK OF THE PROPHET 
 
 MAHOMMAD. Translated by Stanley Lane-Poole. 
 THE CAVALIER AND HIS LADY. 
 THE REPUBLIC OF PLATO. Translated by J. Ll. Davies, 
 
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 THE TRIAL AND DEATH OF SOCRATES. Being the 
 
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 PHAEDRUS, LYSIS, AND PROTAGORAS OF PLATO. 
 SHAKESPEARE'S SONGS AND SONNETS. Edited, with 
 
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 POEMS, RELIGIOUS AND DOCTRINAL. From Works of 
 
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 POEMS OF WORDSWORTH. Chosen and Edited by 
 
 Maithew Arnold. 
 A BOOK OF GOLDEN DEEDS OF ALL TIMES AND ALL 
 
 COUNTRIES. Hy C. M. Vonge. 
 A BOOK OF WORTHIES. 
 THE STORY OF THE CHRISTIANS AND MOORS IN 
 
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