'TIS impoſſible perhaps for the beſt and wiſeſt amongſt us, to keep ſo conſtant a Guard upon our Temper, but that we may at one Time or other lie open to the Strokes of Fortune, and ſuch Incidents as we cannot foreſee. With Sentiments of this Kind I came Home to my Lodgings laſt Night, much fatigued with a long and ſudden Journey from the Country, and full of the ungrateful Occa⯑ſion of it. 'Twas natural for me to have im⯑mediate Recourſe to my Pen and Ink; but be⯑fore I would offer to make Uſe of them, I re⯑ſolv'd deliberately to tell over a Hundred, and when I came to the End of that Sum, I found it more adviſable to defer drawing up my in⯑tended Remonſtrance, till I had ſlept ſoundly on my Reſentments. Without any other Pre⯑face [2] than this, I ſhall give the World a fair Account of the Treatment I have lately met with, and leave them to judge, whether the Uneaſineſs I have ſuffer'd be inconſiſtent with the Character I have generally pretended to. About Three Weeks ſince, I receiv'd an Invita⯑tion from a Kinſman in Staffordſhire, to ſpend my Chriſtmas in thoſe Parts. Upon taking Leave of Mr. Morphew, I put as many Papers into his Hands as would ſerve till my Return and charg'd him at parting, to be very punctual with the Town. In what Manner he and Mr. Lillie have been tamper'd with ſince, I can⯑not ſay, they have given me my Revenge, if I deſired any, by allowing their Names to an idle Paper, that in all humane Probability, cannot live a Fortnight to an End. My ſelf, and the Family I was with, were in the Midſt of Gaie⯑ty, and a plentiful Entertainment, when I re⯑ceiv'd a Letter from my Siſter Jenny, who, af⯑ter mentioning ſome little Affairs I had intru⯑ſted to her, goes on thus: ‘"The inclos'd, I be⯑lieve, will give you ſome Surprize, as it has al⯑ready aſtoniſh'd every Body here: Who Mr. Steele is, that ſubſcribes it, I don't know, any more than I can comprehend what could induce him to it. Morphew and Lillie, I am told, are both in the Secret. I ſhall not preſume to inſtruct you, but hope you will uſe ſome Means to diſ⯑appoint the ill Nature of thoſe who are taking Pains to deprive the World of one of its moſt reaſonable Entertainments. I am, &c."’

I am to thank my Siſter for her Compli⯑ment; but be that as it will, I ſhall not eaſily be diſcourag'd from my former Undertaking [...] In Purſuance of it, I was obliged upon this Notice to take Places in the Coach for my ſelf and my Maid with the utmoſt Expedition, leſt I ſhould, in a ſhort Time, be rallied out of my Exiſtence, as ſome People will needs fancy [3] Mr. Partridge has been, and the real Iſaac Bic⯑kerſtaff have paſſed for a Creature of Mr. Steele's Imagination. This Illuſion might have hoped for ſome tolerable Succeſs, if I had not more than once produced my Perſon in a crowded Theatre; and ſuch a Perſon as Mr. Steele, if I am not miſinformed in the Gentleman, would hardly think it an Advantage to own, though I ſhould throw him in all the little Honour I have gained by my Lucubrations. I may be al⯑lowed, perhaps, to underſtand Pleaſantry as well as other Men, and can (in the uſual Phraſe) take a Jeſt without being angry; but I appeal to the World, whether the Gentleman has not carried it too far, and whether he ought not to make a publick Recantation, if the Cre⯑dulity of ſome unthinking People ſhould force me to inſiſt upon it. The following Letter is juſt come to Hand, and I think it not improper to be inſerted in this Paper.

I Remember Menage tells a Story of Monſieur Racan, who had appointed a Day and Hour to meet a certain Lady of great Wit whom he had never ſeen, in order to make an Acquaintance between them. ‘'Two of Racan's Friends, who had heard of the Appointment reſolved to play him a Trick. The firſt went to the Lady two Hours before the Time, ſaid his Name was Racan, and talk'd with her an Hour; they were both mightily pleaſed, began a great Friendſhip, and parted with much Satisfaction. A few Minutes after comes the Second, and ſends up the ſame Name; the Lady wonders at the Meaning, and tells him, Mr. Racan had juſt left her. The Gentleman ſays it was ſome raſ⯑cally Impoſtor, and that he had been frequent⯑ly us'd in that Manner. The Lady is convinc'd, and they laugh at the Oddneſs of the Adven⯑tures. She now calls to Mind ſeveral Paſſages which confirms her that the former was a Cheat. He appoints a Second Meeting, and takes his Leave. He was no ſooner gone, but the true Racan comes to the Door, and deſires, under that Name, to ſee the Lady. She was [6] out of all Patience, ſends for him up, rates him for an Impoſtor, and, after a Thouſand Inju⯑ries, flings a Slipper at his Head. It was im⯑poſſible to pacify or diſabuſe her; he was for⯑ced to retire, and it was not without ſome Time, and the Intervention of Friends, that they could come to an Eclairciſement."’ This, as I take it, is exactly the Caſe with Mr. S—le, the pretended TATLER from Morphew, and my ſelf, only (I preſume) the World will be ſooner undeceiv'd than the Lady in M [...]nage. The very Day my laſt Paper came out, my Printer brought me another of the ſame Date, call'd the TAT⯑LER, by Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq and, which was ſtill more pleaſant, with an Advertiſement at the End, calling me the Female TATLER: It is not enough to rob me of my Name, but now they muſt impoſe a Sex on me, when my Years have long ſince determin'd me to be of none at all. There is only one Thing wanting in the Opera⯑tion, that they would renew my Age, and then I will heartily forgive them all the reſt. In the mean Time, whatever Uneaſineſs I have ſuffer'd from the little Malice of theſe Men, and my Re⯑tirement in the Country, the Pleaſures I have re⯑ceiv'd from the ſame Occaſion, will fairly bal⯑lance the Account. On the one Hand I have been highly delighted to ſee my Name and Character aſſumed by the Scribblers of the Age, in order to recommend themſelves to it; and on the other, to obſerve the good Taſte of the Town, in di⯑ſtinguiſhing and exploding them through every Diſguiſe, and ſacrificing their Trifles to the ſup⯑poſed Manes of Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſquire. But the greateſt Merit of my Journey into Staffordſhire, is, that it has open'd to me a new Fund of unre⯑prov'd Follies and Errors that have hitherto lain out of my View, and, by their Situation, eſcap'd my Cenſure. For, as I have liv'd generally in Town, the Images I had of the Country were [7] ſuch only as my Senſes receiv'd very early, and my Memory has ſince preſerv'd with all the Ad⯑vantages they firſt appear'd in.

Hence it was that I thought our Pariſh-Church the nobleſt Structure in England, and the 'Squire's Place-Houſe, as we call'd it, a moſt magnificent Palace. I had the ſame Opinion of the Alms-Houſe in the Church-yard, and of a Bridge over the Brook that parts our Pariſh from the next. 'Twas the common Vogue of our School, That the Maſter was the beſt Scholar in Europe, and the Uſher the Second. Not happening to correct theſe Notions by comparing them with what I ſaw when I came into the World, upon return⯑ing back, I began to reſume my former Imagi⯑nations, and expected all Things ſhould appear in the ſame View as I left them when I was a Boy: But to my utter Diſappointment I found them wonderfully ſhrunk, and leſſen'd almoſt out of my Knowledge. I look'd with Contempt on the Tribes painted on the Church Walls, which I once ſo much admired, and on the carv'd Chimney-Piece in the 'Squire's Hall. I found my old Maſter to be a poor ignorant Pedant; and, in ſhort, the whole Scene to be extreamly chang'd for the worſe. This I could not help mention⯑ing, becauſe though it be of no Conſequence in it ſelf, yet 'tis certain, that moſt Prejudices are contracted and retained by this narrow Way of Thinking, which in Matters of the greateſt Mo⯑ment are hardly ſhook off; and which we only think true, becauſe we were made to believe ſo, before we were capable to diſtinguiſh between Truth and Falſhood. But there was one Prepoſ⯑ſeſſion which I confeſs to have parted with, much to my Regret: I mean the Opinion of that na⯑tive Honeſty and Simplicity of Manners which I had always imagin'd to be inherent in Country People. I ſoon obſerv'd it was with them and us, as they ſay of Animals; That every Species [8] at Land, has one to reſemble it at Sea; for 'twas eaſy to diſcover the Seeds and Principles of every Vice and Folly that one meets with in the more known World, though ſhooting up in different Forms. I took a Fancy out of the ſeveral Inha⯑bitants round, to furniſh the Camp; the Bar, and the Exchange, and ſome certain Chocolate and Coffee-houſes, with exact Parallels to what, in many Inſtances, they already produce. There was a drunken quarrelſome Smith, whom I have a hundred Times fancied at the Head of a Troop of Dragoons. A Weaver, within two Doors of my Kinſman, was perpetually ſetting Neighbours together by the Ears. I lamented to ſee how his Talents were miſplac'd, and imagin'd what a Fi⯑gure he might make in Weſtminſter-hall. Good⯑man Crop of Compton-Farm, wants nothing but a Plumb and a Gold-Chain to qualify him for the Government of the City. My Kinſman's Stable-Boy was a gibbing Companion that would always have his Jeſt. He would often put Cow-itch in the Maids Bed, pull Stools from under Folks, and lay a Coal upon their Shoes when they were a⯑ſleep. He was at laſt turn'd off for ſome notable Piece of Roguery, and when I came away, was loitering among the Ale-houſes. Bleſs me, thought I, what a prodigious Wit would this have been with us! I could have match'd all the Sharpers between St. James's and Covent-Garden, with a notable Fellow in the ſame Neighbour⯑hood, (ſince hang'd for picking Pockets at Fairs) could he have had the Advantages of their Edu⯑cation. So nearly are the Corruptions of the Country ally'd to thoſe of the Town, with no further Difference than what is made by another Turn of Thought and Method of Living.

Many more Grievances, though not of equal Importance, have been laid before me from ſeve⯑ral Parts of this Kingdom, which, as they fall not under any ones Cognizance ſo properly as [9] my own, oblige me to a ſpeedy and effectual Re⯑gulation of them. When I was prevail'd upon to, act as Cenſor of Great Britain, I did not enough, conſider the Extent of that Province, nor how, difficult it would be to make my Authority un⯑derſtood in the remoter Parts of this Iſland; for moſt of the Natives being Strangers to Litera⯑ture, I cannot hope my Lucubrations ſhould meet with a general Reception amongſt them; and therefore I have now reſolved on an Expe⯑dient, which I ſhall explain by the following Or⯑der.

This Day the Caſe of John Morphew came on: He was indicted for having made many ſcanda⯑lous Reflections on the Cenſor, as likewiſe for Breach of Truſt; and being found guilty of the ſame, was ſentenc'd to continue printing Sham-Tatlers, and one or two more ſuch Papers. Six other Cauſes were heard afterwards, which 'tis not thought proper to make publick, many noble Perſons, yet alive, being concern'd therein.

WHen I left the Town, as I ſaid before, I did not only make a ſufficient Proviſion for the Continuance of my Lucubrations, till the Time I had fix'd for my Return, but took Care to ſubſtitute one, who in caſe my Stay ſhould happen to be longer than I deſign'd, would much better have furniſhed out the uſual Entertain⯑ment the Publick expected from me. Sam Truſty, of whom I made Mention in a former Paper, was the Perſon I pitched upon to execute that Of⯑fice. Fifty Years and upwards we have liv'd in ſo ſtrict an Intimacy, in ſo perfect an Union, that neither Times, Intereſt, Paſſions nor Opinions, have ever been able to make the leaſt Flaw in our Friendſhip. I am not aſhamed to own I have received more Advantage from his Conver⯑ſation, than from all the Academick Exerciſes; 'tis to his Inſtructions I owe the Improvement of my Underſtanding, to his Precepts and Example the forming of my Manners; and to his Obſer⯑vations, the principal Remarks I have made up⯑on the ſeveral States and Conditions of Mankind. As his Genius at our firſt ſetting out in the World, was much above mine, ſo he has ever ſince maintained the ſame Superiority. His Words were always few, his Arguments weighty, his Reflections juſt, his Intentions ſincere, and his Connexions were mixed with ſuch an agreeable Mirth, that I have often taken Pleaſure in put⯑ting my ſelf in the Wrong, on purpoſe to excite him to ſo delightful a Reproof. A' ſudden Indiſ⯑poſition [12] defeated me of his Aſſiſtance, and has expoſed me to the Difficulties I have been under in reinſtating my ſelf in my former Authority. However, that he deſigned to ſerve me effectual⯑ly, will appear by the enſuing Diſcourſe, which he intended to publiſh the Day after my Depar⯑ture; where in his ludicrous Way he has purſued the Directions I left him, as he takes Notice himſelf in his Introduction. I was unwilling the World ſhould be deprived of one Line of his Writing, and conſequently could not well omit what the Exceſs of his Affection prompted him to ſay in my Favour, and which is perhaps the only Inſtance that can be given of his Partia⯑lity.

My very good Friend Iſaac Bickerſtaff, being indiſpenſably obliged to viſit ſome Relations in the Country theſe Holy-Days: That there may be no Interruption of Juſtice in his Abſence, has deputed me to officiate for him till his Return; and his laſt Inſtructions were, to have a particu⯑lar Regard to the Intereſt of the Fair Sex, of which he has all along ſhewn himſelf a profeſs'd and conſtant Admirer. I am ſenſible how un⯑equal my Talents are for ſo important a Task, nor are our different Sentiments upon that Sub⯑ject a leſs Obſtruction to the Performance of what he has enjoin'd me, than my Want of Abi⯑lities to fill the Place of ſo worthy and great a Perſon. But to proceed to the Buſineſs in Hand.

What remains to be ſpoken of, is, Her immode⯑rate Love of Wine; nor will ſhe be leſs clear in this, than in all the reſt. ‘Jenny has a voluble Tongue, and loves to exerciſe it, that I cannot but own ſhe often talks her ſelf into a Heat, and that cauſes Thirſt; ſometimes by an Ab⯑ſence of Mind, pretty incident to her, ſhe will call for Glaſs after Glaſs, without remembring, ſhe drank but the Minute before. Now, this may prove ſhe has a ſhort Memory indeed; but how to infer the Love of Wine from hence, I cannot ſee. The Miſtake however is eaſy to be accounted for. The Negligence of her Dreſs, her fluſter'd Complexion, her great Loquacity ſometimes, and her incoherent Anſwers to o⯑thers, when her Thoughts are wandering, often concur to make her look as if ſhe were actually in Drink: But is this an equitable Way of Judg⯑ing? If once we ſuffer our ſelves to be impoſed on by Appearances, farewel all Hopes of having Truth eſtabliſhed among us in our Generation.’

Before I diſmiſs this Subject, I cannot but ex⯑preſs a ſincere Concern for a Multitude of injur'd Women who have ſuffered in their Characters, for want of a Champion to defend their Cauſe; and I will take upon me to affirm, as much might have been ſaid for a Hundred about this Town who have been baſely abuſed, as I have done for Jenny Filch. But I refer their Juſtification to my Friend Iſaac, to whom that Province does moſt properly belong.

LEaning out of my Window this Morning, I obſerv'd a Young Gentleman paſs under it, whoſe Face I was ſure to have ſeen, but could not preſently recollect his Name. The Oddneſs of his Figure help'd to diſguiſe him; for, though otherwiſe decent enough, he had a Napkin-Cap on his Head; and at the ſame Time, by the Neg⯑ligence of his Air, gave one to underſtand, that he thought himſelf dreſs'd for the whole Day. In this Manner he walk'd on to the End of our Lane, then turn'd ſhort upon his Heel, and hurry'd back again with the utmoſt Precipitation. By this Time I had made a ſhift to remember, that this was the ſame Young Gentleman whom I formerly made Mention of, in order to recommend a Play of his to the World. There was Merit enough in that Performance to make me a Well-wiſher to the Author, and as much Wit as might make him ca⯑pable of an odd Turn in his Underſtanding.

I was ſorry to ſee him thus expos'd, and bec⯑kon'd him up to me; he came in great Confuſion, and without giving me Time to ask any Que⯑ſtions, told me, he was particularly aſham'd to be ſeen by a Man of my Character, in ſo heedleſs a Way, that indeed he had come out in ſome haſt, and forg [...]t his Hat and Perriwig. By his aukward Man⯑ner of excuſing himſelf, I ſoon found the Cauſe of his Diſorder; that it was purely Artificial, and [19] lay rather in his Heart than his Head. 'Twas with great Indignation I heard his Apology, and had not I been ſtrongly prejudic'd in the young Man's behalf, I ſhould hardly have afforded him the Fa⯑vour of a Rebuke. After ſome Enquiry, I found by him, that this Inadvertency had coſt him much Pains and Induſtry to acquire, and that by long Uſe, it was now improv'd into a Habit.

He freely own'd, that this was a Method he had often took to diſtinguiſh and recommend himſelf as a Wit, and that he had hitherto met with good Succeſs. I was a little pacify'd with the Frankneſs of this Confeſſion, and encourag'd him to proceed in it.—‘'To tell you the Truth, Sir, ſays he, I was led into this Error ve⯑ry young, and the Occaſion of it perhaps may give you Diverſion. 'Twas a Cuſtom at the Great School where I was bred, frequently to call over the Names of the Boys, in the Preſence of the Maſter. This happen'd one Day, juſt af⯑ter the Publick Prayers were over, and when it came to my Turn to ſay Adſum, through Mi⯑ſtake I anſwer'd, Amen. Would you believe, Sir, that from this very Moment I came imme⯑diately into Vogue? I was cry'd up for a Boy of great Parts, and of a wild, but extraordinary Ge⯑nius. As I grew more careleſs, I was ſtill more admir'd, and by a Thouſand little premeditated Blunders. I at laſt eſtabliſh'd a Reputation. When I came to the Univerſity, I expected to be laugh'd out of my Fooleries; but inſtead of that, I was every Day more confirm'd in them. There was hardly a Man of Diſtinction, but was, as they call it in the Univerſity Cant, a Sh [...]t and a Rattle. To be a very great Sloven in Dreſs, was ſome Degree of Merit, and I par⯑ticularly remember one of the Beaux Eſprits, that valued himſelf upon being the dirtieſt Fel⯑low that ever writ a good Line. 'Twas a Mat⯑ter of Emulation amongſt us, whoſe Rooms [20] ſhould be worſt furniſh'd, and lie in the greateſt Diſorder, ſo that with a little wreſting of the Senſe, we might have writ over our Doors,— Hic vivimus ambitioſa Paupertate. — Harry Heedleſs, whoſe Works you may have heard of, has lately taken an Allegorical Inven⯑tory of his Goods, in Heroic Verſe; ſuffer me, Sir, to put it into your Hands, and to beg a Place for it in your next Lucubrations."’ Here the young Gentleman took his Leave, and thank'd me for my Friendſhip, with an Air of Sincerity that could not be diſſembled. His Readineſs to underſtand his Error, and his Reſolution to re⯑form it, have indeed convinc'd me, that in Mat⯑ters of this Kind, a Man of great Parts may re⯑peat more in half an Hour, than one of ordinary Capacity can in many Years. But I muſt not omit the Verſes.

[21] I cannot help adding a Word or Two upon this Humour of ſetting up for a Wit, by perſonating a different Conduct from others, in the Common Actions of Life. The rather, becauſe within the Compaſs of my own Obſervation, it has depriv'd the World of many uſeful Perſons, and eclips'd many valuable Qualifications. It has certainly been the Misfortune of ſeveral Great Men, to have had ſomething ſingular in their Gate, their Diet, and even in their Converſation it ſelf. They who have follow'd the profounder Studies, appear of⯑ten to have their thoughts diſtracted, as 'tis par⯑ticularly obſerv'd of Mathematicians, their Minds being ſo ſteddily fix'd, that they cannot eaſily un⯑bend them.

Hence it is that others, imagining the Merit lies in the Singularity, are glad to find it ſo eaſie a Matter to diſtinguiſh themſelves; the Deſire of doing which I take to be the Root of all Affecta⯑tion. To ſay Truth, the Men of Wit have, na⯑turally, their Share in theſe Imperfections. For as more ſevere Studies require a very cloſe Appli⯑cation, theirs perhaps ingage it too little, and their Spirits are too volatile to give a long and conſtant Attention. This Abſence of theirs, if I may ſo ſpeak, my Couſin Humphry calls a Tax upon great Genius's, and ſays, he thinks it a Happineſs, when a Man of eminent Parts has nothing Particular to be known by, ei⯑ther when he walks the Street, or appears in Company. For which Reaſon, in talking over the Characters of Ingenious Men, I am frequently offended to hear People dwell upon ſome odd Circumſtances in their Behaviour. A certain Au⯑thor about Town is much celebrated for writing all his Works upon Backs of Letters, and Scraps of Paper. Another writ the beſt Part of his Poem upon old Cards, and had like to have loſt Ten of the fineſt Lines in it, upon an Ace of Dia⯑monds, which he had unluckily miſplac'd. A [22] Third, of Immortal Memory, was wont to lie in his Perriwig, and caught a Cold that deſtroy'd him, by waſhing his Hands. Theſe and many other Singularities obſervable in Men of extraor⯑dinary Talents, might, for ought one knows, be natural to them. But when Papilio ſtudies for In⯑coherent Anſwers to every Queſtion that is ask'd him, and makes Appointments on purpoſe to for⯑get them; 'tis a Queſtion amongſt the Curious, Whether the Humour be natural or affected? I think it the moſt favourable Opinion, that there is a Mixture of both. I have often with great Pleaſure conſidered the Character of my Friend Urbanus, whoſe great Wit and Learning are in⯑deed accompanied with Singularities, ſuch as are altogether Natural, but will, I doubt, meet with few Imitators: I mean his exceſſive Candor, Mo⯑deſty and good Nature. The Affectation of theſe Qualities would ſufficiently diſtinguiſh any one that would be at the Pains to tranſcribe them, and the Conſequences of it would be of Service to the World. But to copy the Infirmities only of Great Men, and to quote their Example in our Defence, is making Precedents of them, where they leaſt deſire to be ſo, and perverting their Authority to give a Sanction to Folly.

AMongſt other Severities I have met with from ſome Criticks, the crueleſt for an Old Man is, that they will not let me be at quiet in my Bed, but purſue me to my very Dreams. I [23] muſt not dream but when they pleaſe, nor upon long continued Subjects, however Viſionary in their own Natures; becauſe there is a manifeſt Moral quite thro' them, which to produce as a Dream is improbable and unnatural. The Pain I might have had from this Objection, is prevented by conſidering they have miſſed another, againſt which I ſhould have been at a Loſs to defend my ſelf. They ſhould have ask'd me whether the Dreams I publiſh can properly be call'd Lucubra⯑tions, which is the Name I have given to all my Papers, whether in Volumes or Half-ſheets: So manifeſt a Contradiction in Terminis, that I won⯑der no Sophiſter ever thought of it: But the o⯑ther is a Cavil. I remember when I was a Boy at School, I have often dream'd out the whole Paſſages of a Day; that I rode a Journey, bai⯑ted, ſupp'd, went to Bed, and roſe the next Morning; and I have known young Ladies who would dream a whole Contexture of Adventures in one Night large enough to make a Novel. In Youth the Imagination is ſtrong, not mix'd with Cares, nor tinged with thoſe Paſſions that moſt diſturb and confound it, ſuch as Avarice, Ambi⯑tion, and many others. Now as old Men are ſaid to grow Children again, ſo in this Article of Dreaming, I am returned to my Childhood. My Imagination is at full Eaſe, without Care, Ava⯑rice, or Ambition to clog it, by which, among ma⯑ny others, I have this Advantage of doubling the ſmall Remainder of my Time, and living Four and Twenty Hours in the Day. However, the Dream I am now going to relate, is as wild as can well be imagined, and to pleaſe theſe Re⯑finers upon Sleep, without any Moral that I can diſcover.‘It happen'd that my Maid left on the Table in my Bed-Chamber, one of her Story-Books (as ſhe calls them) which I took up, and found full of ſtrange Impertinences, fitted to her Taſt and [24] Condition; of Poor Servants that came to be Ladies, and Serving-Men of low Degree, who married Kings Daughters. Among other Things I met this Sage Obſervation, that a Lion would never hurt a true Virgin: With this Medly of Nonſenſe in my Fancy I went to Bed, and dream'd that a Friend waked me in the Mor⯑ning, and propoſed for Paſtime to ſpend a few Hours in ſeeing the Pariſh-Lions, which he had not done ſince he came to Town; and becauſe they ſhow'd but once a Week, he would not miſs the Opportunity. I ſaid I would humour him; tho', to ſpeak the Truth, I was not fond of thoſe cruel Spectacles, and if it were not ſo ancient a Cuſtom, founded, as I had heard, upon the wiſeſt Maxims, I ſhould be apt to cen⯑ſure the Inhumanity of thoſe who introduced it. All this will be a Riddle to the waking Reader, till I diſcover the Scene my Imagination had formed upon the Maxim, that a Lion would ne⯑ver hurt a true Virgin. I dream'd, that by a Law of Immemorial Time a He-Lion was kept in every Pariſh at the common Charge, and in a Place provided, adjoining to the Church-yard; That, before any one of the Fair Sex was married, if ſhe affirmed her ſelf to be a Virgin, ſhe muſt on her Wed⯑ding-Day, and in her Wedding-Cloaths, per⯑form the Ceremony of going alone into the Den, and ſtay an Hour with the Lion let looſe, and kept faſting Four and Twenty Hours on purpoſe. At a proper Height, above the Den, were convenient Galleries for the Relations and Friends of the Young Couple, and open to all Spectators. No Maiden was forced to offer her ſelf to the Lion; but if ſhe refuſed, it was a Diſgrace to marry her, and every one might have Liberty of calling her a Whore. And me⯑thought it was as uſual a Diverſion to ſee the Pariſh-Lions, as with us to go to a Play or an [25] Opera. And it was reckoned convenient to be near the Church, either for marrying the Vir⯑gin if ſhe eſcaped the Trial, or for burying the Bones when the Lion had devoured the reſt, as he conſtantly did.’

To go on therefore with the Dream:

I Have ever profeſſed my ſelf an Admirer of the Virtuous, and the valuable Part of the Fair Sex. I have aſſerted their Privileges, exte⯑nuated their Failings, and extoll'd their good Qualities. What more can be expected from a Man of my Years? To ſooth them in their Fol⯑lies, or ſuffer them in their Vices, were doing my ſelf no Pleaſure, and them the greateſt Diſſervice imaginable. This may be ſome Apology for my laſt Paper, which I ſhould not have apprehended to need any, but that the very Evening after it was publiſh'd, I receiv'd the following Letter.

I am to underſtand by this, that both Sexes are up in Arms againſt me, and that the Sig⯑nior is inclin'd ſtrictly to obſerve a Venetian Neu⯑trality.

To comfort me under this Misfortune, the ſame Poſt brought me the Appearance of a Com⯑pliment; tho' to ſay Truth, I don't know how far to depend upon it.

Thus, as I before hinted, the beſt Part of my Time is ſet apart for the Service and true Intereſt of the Fair. Many ſleepleſs Nights, and Days of Anxiety, they have coſt me. Yet for all this, I do not find that I have any Degree of Intereſt in their Perſons, or any Reſtraint upon their Con⯑duct. Not a Furbelow has been ſunk, nor a Yard of Whalebone parted with, to oblige me. Even my moſt gentle Corrections and Penny-Poſt Inti⯑mations, have met with Neglect, Scorn and De⯑fiance. Bellaria is a provoking Inſtance of this Kind; it has in good Earneſt ſtood me in Three-Pence to reform her, and I do not find that ſhe is One Farthing the better for it. She is young, 'tis true, and may live to be wiſer: As her Beau⯑ty goes off, Prudence perhaps will grow upon her; but to be diſcreet in the Height of her Charms, would be a much greater Merit. She knows the Faults I have charged her with, and muſt thank her ſelf if ſhe ſhould hereafter [33] oblige me to be more open and particular. Sempro⯑nia, with the ſame Aggravation, continues to be haughty, inſolent, and unnatural. She is the Mo⯑ther of Five beautiful Children, the eldeſt not above Seven Years Old, whom ſhe never ſpeaks to, but with a Deſign to teize them, and uſes worſe than any Animals that belong to her. Go⯑ing to her Coach the other Day, ſhe obſerv'd Two or Three of them diverting themſelves in the Hall, and turning to her People, asked the Rea⯑ſon why thoſe Brats lay litt'ring about the Houſe. Miſs Molly was ſeverely whip'd within this Week, for calling her Mother behind her back; and Ma⯑ſter Neddy taken from Table, for ſeeming only to want his Dinner before the Italian Greyhound had been fed.

I have met with a Caſe yet more extraordinary, and which has given me much Uneaſineſs; Tho' I cannot ſay of ſo Criminal a Nature as the latter. Taking a Turn in the Park about a Month ſince, I ſaw a Paper lie upon the Ground, which I had the Curioſity to ſtoop for, and found to be a Re⯑cipe.

I was very much ſurpris'd at ſo odd a Preſcrip⯑tion, and having formerly had the Honour to know the Lady for whoſe Uſe it was intended, cou'd not help inquiring into the Occaſion of it: [34] With ſome Difficulty I inform'd my ſelf, that Clo⯑rinda, whom all the World admir'd, was very lately diſpleas'd with her own Perſon. Some good natur'd Friend, it ſeems, had put it in her Head that ſhe was growing too fat, and in a little Time wou'd be out of all Shape. This ſufficiently a⯑larm'd her, and from a Gaiety of Temper, that was peculiar to her, ſhe fell into Spleen, Vapours, and a Thouſand imaginary Diſquiets. There was no Abſurdity ſo groſs that her Fears did not im⯑poſe upon her. As ſhe paſs'd the Streets in her Chair, ſhe expected every Moment that the Fel⯑lows wou'd ſink under their Burden, and wou'd often ſay to her ſelf, Bleſs me, how the poor Crea⯑tures blow! My Lady Kill-Chairman's Shape was become the Object of her Envy, as it had former⯑ly been the Subject of her Ridicule. In ſhort, a Conſultation of the moſt eminent Phyſicians was reſolv'd on, and a Courſe of Acids, Cum Regimi⯑ne, was, it ſeems, the Reſult of it. As ſoon as this came to my Knowledge, I ſent Clorinda a Letter, full of ſuch preſſing Remonſtrances, as the Occaſion ſuggeſted to me. I conjur'd her with all the Tenderneſs of a Gallant, not to ſuffer ſo much Beauty to be loſt to the World, by being over-curious to preſerve it; nor that Bloom to wi⯑ther thro' an irreligious Mortification of her ſelf.

After taking ſo much Pains, to ſee my Advice neglected, and other Meaſures purſu'd, has, I own, ſenſibly touch'd me, both as an old Man, and a graduate Phyſician. However, it is yet in the Power of Clorinda to retrieve what is paſs'd: She has nothing more to do than to eat, drink, and ſleep, to make her ſelf again the Joy of her Friends, the Deſire of Mankind; and what is yet greater, (without Vanity be it ſaid) to be heartily forgiven by the Cenſor of Great Britain.

'TIS a common Miſtake, tho' of very ill Conſequence, that many Failings and In⯑firmities are too cloſely woven into our Conſtitu⯑tions ever to be removed by any Pains or Appli⯑cation of our own. Had I ſuffer'd my ſelf to be⯑lieve this, I had been now one of the peeviſheſt old Fellows, as I was formerly one of the moſt paſſionate Youths, in the World. Till the Age of Sixteen I was never in good Humour two Hours together. I thought my ſelf affronted by every one I met, and grew into a Proverb for the Violence of my Reſentments. I no ſooner came to the Uſe of my Reaſon, but I began to cool a⯑pace, and have ever ſince preſerved ſuch an Even⯑neſs of Temper as is not eaſily ruffled, and which, under the greateſt Difficulties and Diſtreſſes, has made me ſuperior to them all.

I remember one Thing of my ſelf in the Days of my Minority that was pleaſant enough: When⯑ever any Body had done me an ill Office, I uſed, in the Bitterneſs of my Heart, to wiſh my ſelf Parſon of the Pariſh for their Sake. He, I ob⯑ſerved, had once a Week the Privilege of ſpeak⯑ing [36] his Mind in publick, and of telling his Pa⯑riſhioners their own. This, I thought, was a mighty Relief to his Spleen, and indeed the Doctor made Uſe of it as if he had been of the ſame Opinion. He had a particular Felicity in finding out Texts to his Purpoſe, and no one Of⯑fence could be committed againſt him, that did not appear the next Sunday to be literally forbid⯑den in Scripture. The Top Gentleman in the Pariſh having one Day made him a Viſit in a ſtriped Night-Gown, he looked upon this Diſha⯑bilee as a Mark of Contempt; and the very next Time the Pulpit was his own, giving a Side-Glance towards the 'Squire's Pew, he pronounced with a loud Voice, Stripes are for the Backs of Fools, &c. A poor Taylor had cabbaged ſome black Cloth that was put into his Hands, and the Text choſen for his Reprimand was, Hell and De⯑ſtruction are before them; though towards the End of the Diſcourſe it was allowed, that a Rem⯑nant ſhould be ſaved.

This petulant Humour of proſtituting a pub⯑lick Capacity to particular Reſentments, is what I have induſtriouſly avoided throughout the whole Courſe of my Lucubrations. After the many Obſervations I have made upon humane Nature, it is, I confeſs, ſome Pleaſure to com⯑municate them to the Publick in the Manner I have choſe to do it: But, unleſs in Caſes where my Reputation has been openly attacked, I have never once intereſted the World in any Diſputes relating to my ſelf. Every Body knows what Provocations Mr. Powell gave me, and in how crowded a Theatre, before I would deſcend to take any Notice of him. When I did, it was in ſuch a Manner, I thought, as all Controverſy ought to be managed between Scholars and Gen⯑tlemen. Mr. Morphew and Mr. Lillie obliged me to draw my Pen againſt them by a Piece of Ingra⯑titude [37] that is hardly to be matched in Hiſtory. I had always treated thoſe Perſons with a Reſpect due to their Characters, and as our Intereſts were mutual, I flattered my ſelf that our Affections were ſo too. I know I ſhall ſuffer in the Opinion of ſome unforgiving People, when I make it known, that after ſuch repeated Indignities I have again taken them into Favour. But as the following Petition was introduced to me by ſome of the firſt Quality in this Kingdom, I can deny nothing to their Commands, nor indeed to the Dictates of my own Humanity.

It was an infinite Pleaſure to me the Day after I had reinſtated the Petitioners, to ſee the Faces of my old Officers about me. However, I would not have Mr. Kidney be in the leaſt diſcouraged. The little Time he has been in Employment has raiſed in me a juſt Eſteem for his good Qualities; and it is for his Sake that I give the follow⯑ing Advertiſement a Place in this Part of my Pa⯑per:

Before I conclude, I am to acquaint my Rea⯑ders, That as I have again received my old Ser⯑vants, I have likewiſe renewed my former Reſo⯑lution of continuing this Work three Times a Week; ſo, adviſing Mrs. A. Baldwin to uſe great Induſtry in her Buſineſs, I bid her heartily Fare⯑wel.

N. B. Having commiſſioned my Printer to di⯑ſtinguiſh this Paper by what Number he thinks proper, I muſt obſerve, That from Jan. 2. thoſe only of Numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, belong to this Set, in order to compleat the Fifth Volume of theſe Lucubrations.

THat Activity or Reſtleſneſs of Thought, that Deſire of doing ſomething, which is natural to almoſt every Body, does, when rightly appli⯑ed, give Birth to many great and noble Enter⯑prizes; but when it falls under the Direction of a fantaſtical Judgment, it becomes troubleſome and ridiculous to all the World. On one Side, it con⯑tributes to the Characters of the greateſt Gene⯑rals, and the wiſeſt Stateſmen; and on the other, it furniſhes publick Converſations with Buſy Bo⯑dies and Buffoons. I have obſerved Will Worth⯑leſs for a long Time about this Town labouring under a prodigious Impatience of being diſtin⯑guiſh'd as a Man of ſome Sort of Figure or other. At his firſt coming from the Univerſity, he ſet up for a great Unbeliever; for which Reaſon, as likewiſe becauſe he was afraid to be in a Room by himſelf, he ſpent moſt of his Time at the Graecian. But not arriving to any great Eminence in Infidelity, he turned himſelf with great Appli⯑cation to the Calling of a Virtuoſo. To equip himſelf for this, he travel'd twice into Italy, from [41] whence, at great Expence, he brought back a ſo⯑lemn Face, with the Reputation of knowing as much as he did when he went out. Being now greatly accompliſh'd for the Service of his Coun⯑try, he thought it was high Time to take Care of the Conſtitution; and to that End, without Fear or Wit, leap'd at once over Head and Ears into publick Buſineſs. From that Time to this he has liv'd in a profeſs'd Courſe of Gravity. I have had more frequent Opportunities of converſing with him than I could have wiſh'd. For taking me by my Age to be a Man for his Purpoſe, he has in a Manner forced himſelf upon my Acquaintance. He has told me with great Frankneſs, That he thinks it below a reaſonable Man either to laugh or drink Wine, and that he has laid down ſome Rules to himſelf as eſſential to the Character he affects: ‘"To preſerve a ſtedfaſt Countenance, to whiſper in Coffee-houſes, to ſhave but twice a Week, and to wear but one Loop to his Hat; to read nothing but the Votes, and to keep Company with his Father. He has ſometimes ſaid with as much Pleaſure as his Face is capa⯑ble of, Well, Mr. Bickerſtaff, nothing ſure is ſo ſolid a Satisfaction as Buſineſs—For my Part, I love it ſo well, that I can't like a Propoſal the worſe for having been rejected;"’ and to do him Juſtice, he has been a true Friend to di⯑ſtreſſed Projects, and as good as a Father to Bills in Diſgrace. He receives more Petitions than a Firſt Miniſter, and ſolicits the Affairs of all the mad Beggars about Town. Monday laſt I was obliged upon ſome Buſineſs to go to his Levee. I found with him, over Bohea and Bread and But⯑ter, Juſtice Upperſide and Sir Paul Marmalade. Upon my coming in, Mr. Worthleſs, who ſate next the Fire, roſe up and forced me into his Chair. The Juſtice, with an innocent Smile in his Face, and his Cane at his Mouth, ſaid, ‘"Mr. Bicker⯑ſtaff, [42] you can tell us; Pray, Sir, what are all theſe Inſurances upon Births and Marriages, will they come to any Thing or no? Before I could anſwer, he went on, Why really, Sir, I would be glad Gentlemen would conſider, eve⯑ry Nation conſiſts chiefly of Men and Women. How! ſays Sir Paul, do you make nothing of Children?"’ The Juſtice, ſhaking his Head, ſaid, ‘"My good Friend Sir Paul, you don't take me; but what I would offer, is this, If Mar⯑riages are hindered, Procreation in a legal Way will ceaſe, and the Conſequence of that every one knows. However, if no Body elſe takes Notice of it, I am ſure I ſhan't—'Tis not my Buſineſs to find Faults'—’Mr. Worthleſs ſtopping him ſhort, cried, ‘"Pray take me along with you; for unleſs the Perſons marrying be equal to the Perſons married, where is your Ballance? For I take it, a Nation may be over as well as under married."’ ‘"Well, ſays Sir Paul, I don't love diſputing in Company, but you would have a hard Matter to make that out."’ This weighty Converſation was interrupted by Captain Myſtery, who came in from his Round of Levees, with a Face of great Hurry and Impor⯑tance: ‘"Gentlemen, ſays he, you little think where I have been this Morning—Hark you Mr. Worthleſs, a Word in your Ear. All out—Ships—Command—A Blockhead and a Coward, and all their Hands to it—'Tis a little hard tho' that neither Side ſhould take any Notice of one'—’

This was all I overheard of his Whiſper, when a Servant came and told Mr. Worthleſs, there were ſeveral People at the Door who deſired to ſpeak with his Honour. Leave of Audience be⯑ing given, the firſt that entered was Don Cava⯑liero de Triſto Figure. The Solemnity of his Air, joined with the miſerable Habit he was in, was a [43] moſt exquiſite Burleſque upon the Humour of his Country. He had in his Hand a Bundle of Pa⯑pers, much obſcured with Filth, and of a Fra⯑grancy not to be endured. Theſe he preſented to the Patriot, who gave me to underſtand, that they contained a ſhort and eaſy Expedient to ſettle the Houſe of Auſtria on the Throne of Spain, whiſpering at the ſame Time, that he ve⯑rily believed this Gentleman to be of the Blood Royal.

The next, as I underſtood from him, was one Mrs. James, a little ancient Gentlewoman, in a Pair of very high Pattins, who, with much Anxiety and Hunger in her Countenance, deſired his Honour, with a low Voice, and in a Language that I hardly underſtood, ‘"To attend her Buſi⯑neſs in the Houſe, for that it was now juſt rea⯑dy to come on;"’ and it ſeems it has been in the ſame Forwardneſs for theſe Thirty Years paſt. She withdrew with great Humility, and repeat⯑ed Courteſies, to make Room for a Third. Mr. Worthleſs took me aſide, and told me, ‘"That this was a Gentleman who in his younger Days ſtudied the Law; but having failed in that, had now put himſelf into the fantaſtical Habit I ſaw, and under it was one of the deepeſt Heads in the World. He has attended me, ſays he, theſe Three Years, with a Project to ſave England, and I know not yet whether I ſhall bring it to bear."’ I was by this Time heartily tired, and in proper Form took Leave of the Company, not knowing whether I ought moſt to commiſerate the Misfortunes of theſe poor Wretches, or contemn and expoſe the Fol⯑lies of their Patron.

I Have prefix'd Two Motto's, as they call 'em, to this Paper; not ſo much to ſhew my Learn⯑ing, as to appriſe the Reader, that I pretend to no Connexion or Uniformity in it. I had indeed prepared another for the Preſs, but about an Hour before the Printer called upon me, I chan⯑ced to look into a little Coffee-houſe in our Row, where I found lying open upon the Table the following Epiſtle, a Steel Ring of Keys, and a Braſs Seal with an Anchor engraved on it on one Side, and a ſhort Piece of dirty Sealing-Wax on the other. I was ſo pleaſed with the Style and Orthography of it, that I could not but wonder at the Careleſneſs of the Perſon who, as I ſup⯑poſed, after writing an Anſwer, had left ſo va⯑luable a Piece behind him; and knowing no readier Way to put it into his Hands again, re⯑ſolved to make it publick by the firſt Opportu⯑nity.

Recipe Caballum, [Anglice] take Horſe.

[48] This Day about Twelve in the Forenoon, the new Company of Upholders, the Company of Linen-Drapers, together with the true and truſty Society of Hawkers, introduced by John Morphew, preſented to Iſaac Bickerſtaff Eſq by the Hands of their Foremen their ſeveral Addreſſes of Congra⯑tulation on his Return to Town, and Reaſſum⯑ption of his Office, which Addreſſes the Cenſor received very favourably, and will ſhortly cauſe to be printed.

ONE or two of my laſt Papers having made it known that I am removed from by old Lodgings in Sheer-Lane, I have on that Occaſion received Letters from two Correſpon⯑ [...]ents of very different Sentiments. One of [...]hem wiſhes me Joy of a clearer Air, and more [...]leaſing Situation; the other is ſo free as to [...]all me a reſtleſs, unquiet old Fellow, and a [...]ain Pretender to Philoſophy. Hard Fate of [...]hoſe who happen to have diſtinguiſhed them⯑ [...]elves in the World, that their minuteſt Actions [...]uſt be diſcanted on, and every little Motion [...]hey make be publickly accounted for! If the [...]entleman who is ſo ſevere upon me would [...]o me the Favour of a Viſit, he would be con⯑ [...]nced that I have changed for the better. I [...]ave from hence a Proſpect filled with ſuch a [...]ariety of Entertainments, that I am almoſt [...]mpted in my old Age to turn Poet for the [...]ke of it. As a Lover of my Country, it is a [...]nſible Pleaſure to me, from the Nobleneſs of [50] the River, and Magnificence of the Structures, to meaſure the Wealth and Grandeur of the Britiſh Nation. In the Capacity of Cenſor, I conſider this huge Maſs of Buildings as my own Province, and am in a Manner directed by my Eye to the Execution of my Office, as I appre⯑hend this or that Part of the Metropolis to ſtand in Need of Correction. But theſe, alas [...] were not the principal Inducements that brought me hither. Old Age, and an unhealthy Win⯑ter, have taken from me moſt of my Friends in the other Part of the Town, whom Time [...] a long Acquaintance had rivetted into my E⯑ſteem, and made almoſt neceſſary to my Way of Living.

They were not Men indeed whom I ever ad⯑mired for a ready Turn of Wit, or the Vivari⯑ty of their Converſation, which, to ſay Truck are but the Embelliſhments of a good Under⯑ſtanding, and ſerve rather to divert and [...] than to indear us to one another. It is for this Reaſon, that, in the large Commerce I have had with Mankind, it has been my Way to prefer Men of ſteady Judgment, even Tem⯑pers, cool and indolent Complexions, to thoſe of exceſſive Smartneſs, Humour, and Repar⯑tee; there being ſomething in the conſtant So⯑ciety of the latter, that looſens and unhing [...] the Mind from the more ſerious Offices of Life, and at the ſame Time keeps it upon [...] Stretch in idle and unprofitable Purſuits. [...] Truſty, on this as well as many other Accou [...] has ever preſerved the firſt Place in my Af⯑fections. Living himſelf in this Neighbour⯑hood, be in a great Meaſure determined [...] to the Choice of it; and to him I have left th [...] Naming of Two or Three Companions, wi [...] whom I may, in an innocent Chearfulneſs [...] the Remainder of my Time. Th [...] [51] firſt he introduced to me is a Clergyman of a⯑bout Sixty, who, it ſeems, has paſſed Thirty Years of his Life on a moderate Preferment in the Country, without ever ſolliciting or deſiring a Removal. His Children are grown up, and by his good Management provided for. He has been for ſome Time a Widower, and being very much worn with the conſtant Duties of his Function, was with Difficulty prevailed on to leave a Curate on his Benefice, and come up to Town, where his eldeſt Daughter is ſettled, and with whom he now lives. My Friend tells me, That he was never known to have a Law Suit or Difference with any of his Pariſhioners; That he was ever making up Quarrels, and doing good. Offices in the Neighbourhood; That he had been often left ſole Guardian to Orphans, and diſcharged his Truſt with the utmoſt Fidelity; That he conſtantly viſited the Sick, and ha⯑ving ſome Knowledge in Phyſick, and the Compoſition of Medicines, had aſſigned Part of his Income to that Uſe. When he came firſt to the Place, there was a Conventicle hard by, which had drawn away moſt of the Peo⯑ple from the Church; but by the Exemplari⯑ [...]eſs of his Life, his great Hoſpitality for ſo [...]lender a Fortune, and the Gentleneſs of his Nature, joined with the Force of his Perſwa⯑ [...]ons, the People returned by Degrees, the Diſſenting Miniſter went off, and the Barn [...]hey met in was applied to its proper Uſe.

I was pleaſed with the Figure of the Man as [...]e came into my Room, ſomewhat tall, incli⯑ [...]ing to be lean, his Hair grey, of a fair but flo⯑ [...]d Complexion, with a certain Sweetneſs and [...]mplicity in his Countenance.

[52] In our Converſation he ſeemed to ſhew that Sort of Diffidence which uſually attends Men of the beſt Senſe, after having paſſed their Lives in Retirement. Upon all Occaſions he ſub⯑mitted with great Deference to me, as one who had ſtudied Humane Nature, and atta [...] ⯑ed to a perfect Knowledge of the World. Af⯑ter an Hour's Talk, having induſtriouſly led him through ſeveral Subjects, I found him to be of an excellent Underſtanding, cultiva⯑ted by the Knowledge of the beſt Author of Antiquity, and of a perfect good Taſte to point out their Beauties. Amongſt the reſt, he ſhewed me many Inſtances of the Sublime in the Holy Writings, which I had not heard any one before obſerve; ſo that upon the Whole, all the Difference I could find be⯑tween us both in Point of knowing the World, was, that he had been chiefly conver⯑ſant with the beſt Part of it, and I with the worſt.

This Day Sevennight in the Morning Mr. Truſty preſented me another new Acquain⯑tance: ‘"Mr. Bickerſtaff, ſays he, this is Dr. — I know you will be pleaſed with one another."’ Having never heard the Name before, I concluded him not very emi⯑nent in his Profeſſion. He had no Haſte in his Countenance, and ſate with me above two Hours without any viſible Impatience to be going. He appeared to have Abundance of good Nature without the ſneaking mercenary Affectation of it, and mentioned with Honour as many of his own Profeſſion as are allowed to deſerve it. He received no Meſſage all the while we were together; and I obſerved par⯑ticularly, that he diſcourſed often as if he be⯑lieved Revealed Religion. We dined toge⯑ther, and he carved up a Pullet without read⯑ing [53] a Lecture of Anatomy upon it. He ſeem⯑ed to be of a facetious Wit, and after a few Glaſſes of Wine would now and then let off a Quibble, without thinking it any Diſparage⯑ment to his Underſtanding. I took the firſt Opportunity to enquire of my Friend into the Character of this Gentleman, whoſe Account was, That he had many Years belonged to the Faculty, that he was an admirable Scholar, and very knowing in his Profeſſion; but be⯑ing born a Gentleman, and to a competent Fortune of his own, he diſdained the ſervile Ways of making Court to Nurſes and Apothe⯑caries, and therefore his chief Practice lay a⯑mong the Poor. He never valued his Reputa⯑tion equal to the Life of a Patient, and often preſerved the latter, though by tranſgreſſing a⯑gainſt Form and Method. He was once com⯑ing into Buſineſs, but loſt it by perſwading his Patients they were not ſick, and refuſing their Fees.

The other Mr. Truſty has recommended to me, is a young Gentleman under Twenty, and a Nephew of his own. His Perſon is graceful, his Eyes quick and lively, the Tone of his Voice agreeable, his Look open, affable and ſerene, his Conſtitution vigorous and ſanguine, his Air, Dreſs and Behaviour, eaſy, modeſt and unaffected. He has been bred under the Care and Direction of his Uncle, who, I remember, often uſed to ſay to me, ‘"I will undertake, Iſaac, to make this Boy have as much uſeful Knowledge at Nineteen, as you or I have at Fifty."’ This he has effected beyond what I could poſſibly have conceived, and the Methods he has taken to do it, ſhall hereafter in one or more of theſe Papers be communicated to the Publick. In the mean Time, it is an infinite Delight to me to find this young Man fre⯑quently [54] making ſuch juſt Obſervations as are in others the Reſult of long Experience; to hear him reaſon cloſely without Prejudice, Paſſion or Conceit; at other Times to ſee him gay, chearful and entertaining, without run⯑ning into indecent Liberty, or ſtraining for the Character of a Wit; and upon all Occaſions to obſerve in him a generous Deteſtation of every Thing that is baſe and unworthy, an Integrity founded on good Senſe, and ſuperior to every Temptation. What inexpreſſible Pleaſure muſt ariſe from the Reflection of having furniſhed the World with ſo extraordinary a Perſon? who, if his Merit does not hinder him, may, for half a Century, in the higheſt Stations, and moſt honourable Employments, be of publick Im⯑portance to the World.

SItting laſt Night over a chearful Fire, and a Glaſs of Spaniſh Wine, with my Friend Sa⯑muel Truſty, I happened to ſay, with a Free⯑dom peculiar to our Manner of Converſing, that I could not but admire our mutual Con⯑ſtancy in the Friendſhip that had ſo long been between us. ‘"Why, 'tis right, Iſaac, ſays he, and I hope we may look upon it as an Argu⯑ment of Virtue on both Sides. For my own Part, I do not remember that I ever wiſhed my ſelf from you when our Affairs would give us Leave to be together."’ But this A⯑greement, ſays I, is ſo far from being com⯑mon in the World, that if the Inſtitution at Dunmowe were in Favour of Friendſhip, as it is of Matrimony, I am confident there are few beſides our ſelves would have any Right to the Pramium. ‘"No, (ſays he) and I remember a Story of two pretty remarkable Friends of our own Time that you remind me of on this Occaſion. They had lived ſome time about Town, and being weary of mixed Company, Noiſe, and Impertinence, agreed to retire where they might without Interruption en⯑joy one another. Nottingham was the Place reſolved on; but they had not continued [56] there a Week in cloſe and conſtant Converſa⯑tion, before they grew inſufferably ſick of each other. Some Third Perſon muſt be en⯑gaged into their Relief, and being acciden⯑tally lodged in a Houſe next the Gaol, where a Cup of good Liquor was to be had, they ſent a Meſſage to the Gaoler, to tell him, if he was at Leiſure, there were two Gentlemen that were alone would come and ſmoak a Pipe with him. Being otherwiſe employed, he ſent his Excuſe. Upon which they went in Perſon, and asked him, If there was never an honeſt Highwayman in the Houſe that would be glad of Company? He told them he was quite out at preſent, and that if it was to ſave their Lives, he had no Body but an old Woman that was under Sentence of Death for exerciſing the Black Art, and he was ſure they would not take up with her. He happened to be miſtaken, for they im⯑mediately obtained Leave to go down into the Dungeon, and there ſolaced themſelves with Ale, Brandy, and the Society of this poor unfortunate Creature, till within two Hours of her Execution.'’

What a Levity of Mind is this, that will not ſuffer us to acquieſce in the moſt reaſonable Enjoyments of Life? What a Want of Princi⯑ple, Reflection, and ordinary Reſolution? As one every Day ſees the wretched Effects of this viciated Taſte in Converſation, Dreſs, and Be⯑haviour; I for my own Part am made more particularly ſenſible of them in the Proſecution of this Work. To ſay as much as is proper on the ſame Subject, is wearing it out, as they call it; and a Half Sheet without Four or Five Breaks has a dull heavy Look, and is offenſive to the Eyes of curious Readers; ſo that for [57] their Relief, more than my own, I am forced ſometimes to diverſify my Paper, by dating it from ſeveral Parts of the Town; or elſe, which is my preſent Caſe, to call in the Aſ⯑ſiſtance of ſuch Correſpondents as come firſt to Hand.

The Alias on the Cover of this Letter, the Omiſſion of my Title on the ſame, as well as ſome Paſſages in the ſaid Letter, leave me at full Liberty to treat both that and the Writer of it in what Manner I pleaſe: And I do here⯑by give Notice, That I will hereafter neither anſwer, read, open nor receive, nor ſuffer to be anſwered, read, opened nor received, any Letter or Pacquet otherwiſe directed than to Iſaac Bic⯑kerſtaff Eſq &c. according to the Order by me formerly iſſued on that Behalf.

Ordered, That a Cauſtick be forthwith ap⯑plied to the Noſe of the Defendant, there to remain for the Space of Four Hours, and that the Plaintiff do attend the Operation; three Days after which, he the ſaid Defendant is hereby ſummoned to appear in Court, there further to anſwer for the Offence by him com⯑mitted before his Peers of the Horſe-Guards.

IT is now ſomething more than three Weeks ſince I iſſued forth my Order for the Ele⯑ction of Rural Cenſors throughout every Pariſh in the Kingdom of Great Britain. This, in moſt Places, has been punctually obſerved, and with great Regularity and Order; but in others it has produced Diſcord, Diviſion, and Tumult. The laſt Poſt brought me an Ac⯑count from Smallworth, Wiltſhire, That there were actually Two Cenſors choſen for the [...]me Pariſh, who, upon all Occaſions, una⯑voidably claſh and interfere with each other. At Bri [...]ewell in Hampſhire very indirect Pra⯑ctices have been made Uſe of, and a Perſon elected that had not lived Two Days in the Place. A bad Effect this of a moſt uſeful In⯑ſtitution! If Church-wardens and Sides-men are thus open to Corruption, where is Juſtice and Integrity to be found? The Love of Power is without Doubt very natural to us all, and there are many Temptations in the Office of a Cenſor to juſtifie the Deſire of at⯑taining [61] to it: But to purſue this Ambition through unwarrantable Means, is in my O⯑pinion no leſs abſurd than criminal, becauſe it defeats the very Purpoſe we have in View, and at once diſqualifies us for the Employ⯑ment we affect. It is a Violence to my Na⯑ture to act any Thing that is rigid and ſe⯑vere; but I very much queſtion whether I ſhall not be ſhortly obliged to do exem⯑plary Juſtice on the aforementioned Ac⯑count. I have now under Conſideration a great Number of Complaints from ſeveral Parts of the Kingdom, which in due Time ſhall be laid before the Publick. As for thoſe Gentlemen who have been duly elected to ſo weighty a Poſt, I ſhall always treat them with a Regard due to their Character; and as the following Remonſtrance came firſt to my Hands, it does of Courſe claim Precedency of all others.

IT is certain that moſt of our Errors, whe⯑ther in Converſation or Conduct, are ow⯑ing to Want of Reflection, and a right Way of Thinking. The Privilege of applying our Fa⯑culties that Way, is the nobleſt Diſtinction of our Nature, and of the laſt Conſequence to the Regulation of our Lives. This I do not offer as a new Obſervation, but only as the general Neglect of it, and at the ſame Time the Impor⯑tance of its being rightly underſtood, make it neceſſary to be put often in our Way. What⯑ever Improvements or Acquiſitions we make without this Foundation, are but ſuperficial and Ornamental at beſt, and will never ſupport us through any Figure or Character in the World: For which Reaſon, when the Buſineſs of the Day, and the innocent Entertainments of the Evening are at an End, I conſtantly ſet apart an Hour at leaſt to deſcend into my ſelf, to weigh and examine my paſt Behaviour, and the Principles I have acted upon. The little Lei⯑ſure [66] I thus ſteal from the Publick is returned to them, by endeavouring to become more perfect in the ſeveral Relations I bear to Mankind.

In this Manner I was employing my Thoughts ſome Nights ago, when going towards my Window. I heard a Watchman in the Street cry, Paſt Twelve of the Clock, and a Moon-light Morning. Another, who came juſt after him, called the ſame Hour, and a cloudy Morning. He who had declared himſelf firſt, thinking his Veracity in Queſtion, turned round in ſome Anger, and in a low ſullen Voice gave the o⯑ther the Lie. Words were multiplied upon it, and Blows followed. I immediately threw up my Saſh, and had Authority enough to part them. For my own Part, I looked upon it to be a very bright Sky, and therefore gave the Fellow a Reprimand that had pronounced it otherwiſe: But when he aſſured me, that at the very Inſtant he did ſo, a Cloud was juſt co⯑ming over the Moon, the Cauſe was puzzled, and I did not know juſtly where to lay the Blame. However, having made up the Mat⯑ter, I pulled down my Window, and retired to Bed. Before I fell aſleep, I could not help re⯑flecting on the Oddneſs of this Diſpute, and to make it of ſome Uſe to my ſelf, reſolved I would never more engage in Controverſy with Mr. Powell or any other Perſon.

Soon after I happened to have ſome Tryal of my Temper, for amongſt other Letters, I re⯑ceived that which follows from my old Adver⯑ſary Mr. Powell.

I could not but be much ſurprized at ſo ex⯑traordinary an Account, and doubting the Truth of it, went incognito the next Night to the Houſe, where I found my Correſpondent had but too good Grounds for triumphing over me in the Manner he had done.

After being heartily tired with the Firſt Act, I had Leiſure to conſider the extraordinary Re⯑ception of theſe Foreign Entertainments, and the Diſcouragement of our own Muſick. I could no otherwiſe account for it, than by ha⯑ving Recourſe to a certain Journal that had a little before fallen into my Hands, in which I find, that on the Firſt of November laſt the Houſe of Ladies came to this Reſolution:‘Reſolved, That Mr. Waller never writ a good Song, That Mr. Clayton cannot ſet one, no [...] Mrs. Tofts ſing one.’

[68] In this Debate, I am told they all ſpoke, and all at once; ſo it being impoſſible for them to know what each other ſaid, I could never learn the Reaſons that induced that honourable Houſe to paſs ſo cruel a Vote. Two are chiefly al⯑ledged without Doors to juſtify this Severity. The Firſt is, That our Language is ſo uncooth as not to be endured, and calculated only for Acts of Parliament. The Gentleman that made this Objection, appeared at my Court Yeſter⯑day, where being tried for Slander, after ha⯑ving made a ſmooth Defence in the Engliſh Tongue, he was found guilty, and ſentenced to ſpeak no other Words than Otway and Waller for the Space of Nine Days; as likewiſe to tran⯑ſlate the Mira of Mr. G— [...] into High-Dutch.

The Second Reaſon, which is, the Want of Performers, has been preſſed to me with all Aſ⯑ſurance of Succeſs: But the Perſons who pre⯑ſumed ſo far, upon a very ſolemn Trial, were found guilty alſo by a very fair Jury, ſentenced to beg Mrs. Tofts's and Mr. Leveridge's Pardon upon their Knees, and fined One thouſand Pound each for the Uſe of the Queen of Cyprus, whoſe Treaſures are exhauſted, and her Terri⯑tories invaded. I, who am advanced in Years, and have neither Leiſure nor Application for the Attainment of a Language I as yet know little of, have more than ordinary Reaſon to be apprehenſive of its encroaching too far up⯑on us. Should it univerſally prevail, I am in a Manner debarred the Commerce of Mankind, and my Lucubrations of Courſe fall to the Ground. I could wiſh it were further conſide⯑red, how great Sufferers a conſiderable Part of my Fellow-Subjects would be, if we took away only the Uſe of a few Words, and whether any that can be ſubſtituted in their Stead, [69] would make Amends for the Loſs. As for In⯑ſtance, you deprive the Lover of Angel, Goddeſs, Cupid, Charms, Darts, Flames, Fire, Sigh, Die: 'Tis plain he is undone for ever. Take from the Critick, Delicacy of Thought, Turn of Words, Propriety of Speech, Diction, Image, Genius, Sub⯑lime: The peeviſh Man will have very little left. Rob the Politician of Ballance of Power, Limited Monarchy, Hereditary Right, Church, State, Miniſtry: Moſt of the Coffee-houſes would break, and even that of St. James's be very thin.

After all, I am credibly informed by ſome of the Royal Society, that there is ſomething in the Formation of a Tramontane Ear, that will not ſuffer it to reliſh the Softneſs of Italian Airs; and further, that Sound it ſelf, at ſo ma⯑ny Degrees Northward, was never known to come to perfect Maturity: Only that of Drums, Trumpets, Hautboys, and here and there as much of the Vocal as will ſerve to keep a pri⯑vate Family in Order, being of our own Growth, and agreeing tolerably well with the Climate.

For my Sentiments of Muſick in General; fitly introduced, and in its proper Circumſtan⯑ces, I leave them to be expreſſed by Shake⯑ſpeare, wanting Words of my own for that Oc⯑caſion.

Antonio, in the Jew of Venice, ſpeaks thus to Baſſanio:

IT is obſervable of Men of baſe Extraction and low Education, that when they have any Thing in them of what the World calls good Senſe, they turn it wholly to the getting of Money. They have but that one Point in View, and conſequently overlook all either difficult or indirect Ways which lead to it.

If they attain their End, and become rich toward their middle Age, before they decline in Years, and decay in Strength, and that their Appetite of Getting is not yet turned into an Avarice of Hoarding, if they have any Fire re⯑maining, they commonly feel themſelves war⯑med with a Kind of Ambition of being Some⯑body, as well as Something. They find a Want of that Reſpect which they obſerve to be paid to ſuch who are called Gentlemen, and Perſons of Condition, though of ſmall Fortunes. They would give any Conſideration to be of an honourable Deſcent, and alter the Spelling of their Names to bring them on as near as poſ⯑ſible [72] to ſome Name or Seat of Antiquity. If that cannot be brought about, they puſh for a Knighthood, or an Alliance with ſome Family of Name or Title, whoſe Follies or Misfortunes have reduced them to match themſelves or Children to Money, however baſely lodged, or infamouſly obtained.

I fell into this Reflection after a Viſit made me ſome Days ſince by one whom I remember to have known a Link-Boy, and who has often lighted me formerly from the Green-Dragon in Fleet-ſtreet to my Lodgings in Sheer-lane. We uſed to call him Foundling, a Name given him by his Godfather the Pariſh, and which he has not yet been able to part with, or vary, though he has found the Secret to be worth very near what they call a Plumb, and upon 'Change has obtained the Appellation of a good Man. He came to me with much Frankneſs, owning both his paſt and preſent Circumſtances; but what made me, ſmile, was, the Requeſt he made me to accompany him to a Houſe in our Row, where lives one Randall (as he called him) a Creature Merchant. This Perſon is a great Vir⯑tuoſo, and deals in Birds and Beaſts, though not either as a Butcher or Poulterer; for he nouriſhes nothing that is eatable, nor ever ut⯑ters any Commodity but while it is alive.

As we walked towards this Virtuoſo's Habi⯑tation, which I may call an Abridgment of the Ark, my Friend Foundling told me, ‘"He had purchaſed a fair Seat in the Country, That he had a Mind to appear well in the World; and ſince he had a Gentleman's Eſtate, he would endeavour to have every Thing ſui⯑table to it; That he had bargained already with the Herald's College for a Coat of Arms; and that his preſent Errand to Ran⯑dall's was, from among his Variety, of Ani⯑mals [73] to fancy himſelf a Creſt, in which he mightily deſired my Aſſiſtance and Approba⯑tion."’ I was delighted with the Folly and Frankneſs of the Man; but it happened he ſaw nothing that pleaſed him. As we returned, I adviſed him to an honeſt home-bred Creſt out of his own Farmers Yard, which was a Cock's Head untrim'd, with the Gills and Comb en⯑tire. This he approved, and took his Leave. I was about to reflect on what had paſs'd, when ſuddenly returning he called to me, and co⯑ming nearer, told me, he would let me into all his Project, and deſired I would ſtep with him to a Waterman's Houſe hard by, where he had lodged a Set of Anceſtors, which were to go up next Tide to his Seat upon the River. He deſired my Judgment of the Choice he had made of Three Generations to furniſh his Par⯑lor. I went with him, not readily compre⯑hending what he meant, till we enter'd the Houſe, where he explained to me, that at Fleet-Ditch he had bought the Pictures of Three Men and Three Women, which were ſuited well enough to each other, and were to perſonate his Family up to his Great-Grand⯑father and Great-Grandmother, which he thought was pretending far enough for one who was in Truth related to no Body that he knew of in the World. As I was extremely diverted with the Oddneſs and Extravagance of the Man's Fancy, I was no leſs ſatisfied with his Judgment in the Choice of the Pictures; the Habits and Diſpoſitions of the Figures be⯑ing ſuited to Three different Periods and Fa⯑ſhions of Time, and concluding, or rather be⯑ginning, in the Great-Grandfather and Great-Grandmother, with a Pair of Trunk-Hoſe, a Ruff, and a Farthingale. I pleaſed him with my Approbation, and took Leave of him, en⯑tertaining [74] my ſelf often ſince with the Re⯑flections which naturally ariſe from the Con⯑templation of Vanity, Wealth, and titular Happineſs. I have ſince heard there is a Mar⯑riage likely to be concluded betwixt his Daugh⯑ter Mrs. Priſcilla Foundling and the eldeſt Son of the Lord Mortgage.

When my other Affairs will give me Leav [...] I now and then ſaunter unobſerved about the Town, and am infinitely entertained with the Variety of Perſons, Humours, and Circumſtan⯑ces, I meet with in my Walks. Returning Home the other Evening after a Tour of th [...] Kind, I ſtepped in here, and having hung up my Cloak, and called for a Diſh of Tea, join⯑ed my ſelf to the Company at the Long Ta⯑ble. I could not but be ſurpriz'd to find Se [...] ⯑rus, who has himſelf an admirable Taſt [...]Learning, and a good Inſight into Politic [...] ſurrounded with a Set of vain and empty P [...] ⯑tenders to both. Amongſt the reſt, I took p [...] ⯑ticular Notice of one whom I had formerly [...] his proper Capacity made honourable Mentio [...] of. 'Tis true, he affected little of the State [...] ⯑man, but in all Matters relating to Poetry ſeem⯑ed to conſider himſelf as the ultimate Judg [...] and with great Volubility of Speech dictated [...] all about him. He had a perfect Command [...] that Critical Cant I mention'd in my laſt, [...] applied it, in a very Magiſterial Manner, to ſe⯑veral Paſſages of Shakeſpeare, Johnſon, and Dry⯑den. I ſat ſome Time at the Table before [...] offered to take any Notice of me, and he did [...] at laſt with ſuch an Air of Superiority, as [...] he imagined his Name had done Honour to [...] Paper, inſtead of receiving any from it; or [...] [75] [...]f it had been a Piece of Condeſcention in one [...]f his Figure to own an Acquaintance with the Cenſor of Great Britain. From his Uſage of me he gave [...]e a fair Occaſion of calling him [...]ſide, and telling him of what other Faults I [...]ad obſerved in his Behaviour.

WIthin this half Year, I have with won⯑derful Delight read over the Hiſtory [...] Don Quixote in the Original Language, no [...] much approving any of our own Tranſlation [...] except the old one, which is now hard to b [...] met with. One finds in this excellent Piec [...] very maſterly Strokes of Ridicule upon all Oc⯑caſions; but as it was calculated for a Peopl [...] in Point of Gallantry, the moſt Romantick in the World, the Paſſion of Love, under all the fantaſtical Forms and Dreſſes it wore in that Age and Nation, is ſeverely treated, and inimi⯑tably expoſed, throughout the whole.

A Work of this Nature was no leſs neceſſary to the Spaniard, than it afterward proved ſuc⯑ceſsful; and whoever will be at the Pains of entring into the Humour that reigned among them, cannot fail of being infinitely entertained with ſo fine a Satyr upon it. But a Reader meerly Engliſh, who never took it in his Head to buckle on a Helmet, or mount a Palfrey, for the Fair, to encounter Giants, beſiege moated [77] [...]aſtles, or reſcue impriſoned Damſels from [...]chantment, nor yet has any Notion of the [...]eroes who did ſo, will very little reliſh a Bur⯑ [...]ſque on the Feats of Chivalry. And, to ſay [...]e Truth, as theſe illuſtrious Knights, by the [...]ower of a warm Sun, were tranſported to [...]e Extreme, we, from the Coldneſs of our [...]tuation, are no leſs expos'd to another. They [...]d Spirits enough to ſupport them through [...]ng and tedious Purſuits, ours flag upon the [...]hace, and one Way or other die almoſt as [...]on as they are born. Inſtead of refining, as [...]ey did, upon our Amours, till we loſe the [...]nd of them, we hurry on to That, and over⯑ [...]ok many agreeable Paths that indirectly lead [...] it. This I am willing to charge upon our Climate; but I queſtion whether there be n [...]t [...]ome Affectation at the Bottom. I know not [...] ſhort how it happens, but whilſt we give a [...]ooſe to all our other Paſſions, that of Love, in [...]he proper Senſe of it, is made the Subject of Ridicule, and in a great Meaſure laughed out of Countenance by the Gentlemen of Wit and Pleaſure about Town. Bellaria in vain is [...]oung, beautiful and Genteel; Cleora of an [...]dmirable Temper, an eaſy modeſt Behaviour, and a Perſon perfectly agreeable. The Succeſs of their Charms is no more than to be ogled at the Opera, toaſted at the Tavern, and forgot⯑ten the next Morning. This is an elegant En⯑joyment of Life, as we call it, and a right Taſt of Happineſs. Colin is almoſt the only one of my Acquaintance that has formed a right Judg⯑ment upon the Buſineſs of Love, and has Cou⯑rage enough to avow it upon all Occaſions. He is a Man excellently qualified for the high⯑eſt Employments, his Way of Living is rather too abſtemious; but to that he owes a clear Underſtanding, and many uncommon Specula⯑tions. [78] He has a peculiar Simplicity of M [...] ⯑ners, and through his whole Character gi [...] one ſome Traces and Images of humane N [...] ⯑ture in its original Purity. Having never ſ [...] ⯑fered himſelf to be tainted with the Bitterne [...] of a Party, he preſerves an univerſal Cand [...] and a Profuſion of Benevolence for Mankind [...] general.

This Gentleneſs of Nature has ſometim [...] put him into the Power of the Fair Sex, [...] whom therefore we are obliged for the be [...] Paſtorals in our own Tongue, and ſuch as [...] hardly inferior to thoſe in any other. H [...] Converſation on the ſame Topick is no leſs de⯑licate and entertaining. In an eaſy and unaf⯑fected Manner he leads one through the mo [...] delightful Scenes, and furniſhes them with all the Pleaſures of a luxurious, but refined, Ima⯑gination. He appears all the while to be throughly touched with what he ſays, and to be placed in a Form of Happineſs ſuperior to the common Level of the World. The ſame Turn of Mind lays him open to an infinite Ten⯑derneſs and Compaſſion for the Misfortunes of others; and if the Diſtreſs of the following Letter be real, as it is not impoſſible it ſhould, I ſhall expect his Approbation at leaſt for gi⯑ving it a Place in my Paper.

The Caſe of Fidelia, as well as that of the Pretenders to her, is indeed very deplorable; and the more ſo, becauſe having carefully per⯑uſed the Records belonging to the Court of Ho⯑nour, I cannot from thence inform my ſelf how to proceed, or in whom to veſt the Right of her Perſon. However, if neceſſary, a Special Verdict may be had without much Trouble or Expence. In the mean Time, to ſpeak upon it in an extrajudicial Way, if the Lady happens to be of the Romiſh Perſuaſion, I adviſe her to a Nunnery; if not, and ſhe be qualified as her Brother has repreſented, I know a certain old Gentleman who will be well enough pleaſed to take her off with all her Misfortunes and Infir⯑mities about her. By having frequent Oppor⯑tunities of inſtilling the Precepts of Philoſophy, he may in Time alleviate her Diſquiets; at leaſt under the Protection of ſuch a one, ſhe may; as many others do, enjoy all the conve⯑nient Privacy, without any of the Confinement or Severities of a Monaſtick Retirement.

THERE is no Conſideration of more Mo⯑ment, or which more reſpects the preſent or future Good of Mankind, than a ſevere and nice Attention to the natural Bent, Genius or Diſpoſition of Children. 'Tis through a Neg⯑lect of this, that we ſee ſo many Profeſſions, Functions and Vocations ſo ill executed and ſupplied. I have often preached this to Major Matchlock, who himſelf had been an Oliverian, and could neither write nor read, and but ſcur⯑vily ſet his Mark. His Conſciouſneſs of his Want of Learning made him run mad upon making his Son a Scholar. The Lad, who had an hereditary and unalienable Dulneſs, was ut⯑terly incapable. Nevertheleſs to the Charter-Houſe he went, where after having been for Four Years under a good Diſcipline, he was (if poſſible) more ſtupified by Correction, and returned again, like a leaden Shilling, upon his father's Hands. Soon after, by my Advice, he [83] was put to a Banker in Lombard-ſtreet, is now a Common-Councilman, will ſhortly be Depu⯑ty of the Ward, and may in Time bid fair for the Chair. This is one Inſtance, and every one who reads this, cannot fail, from his own Knowledge, of recollecting many more. On the other Hand, a great Genius is ſometimes overlooked, and a Youth ty'd down to mean Applications by having a Mechanick to his Fa⯑ther, whoſe natural Fire, and Greatneſs of Spi⯑rit, make frequent vigorous Attempts; by which he at length ſallies from behind the Counter, breaks through his Indentures, quits his opprobrious Apron, and flouriſhes in Arts or Arms. We read, that Wolſey was but the Son of a Butcher, his Servant, the great Crom⯑well, and who perhaps was as great a Man, the Son of a Blackſmith. An eminent Perſon of la⯑ter Times was reproached by one of better Birth, though of meaner Parts, for having for⯑merly been a Carrier. His Anſwer, for his Temper and excellent Judgment in it, is not to be forgotten, which was, ‘"That if he who re⯑proach'd him had once been a Carrier, he would have been a Carrier ſtill."’ To deſcend yet to a more modern Inſtance, my Friend U⯑riah Pattern, by Profeſſion a Saleſman in the Strand, who ſold me my laſt Purple Bays Gown, has a Son whom he bound to himſelf, that he might learn to make Clothes; but he, it ſeems, was only born to wear 'em. I cannot ſay that he appears addicted by Nature either to Arts or Arms, being of the Beau Species, and giving daily Indications of a Smart Fellow. The Symptoms broke out early upon him, in red Heels, wrought Clocks, Agate-headed Canes, Liſpings, Patches, Contortions in Bow⯑ing, Oaths, Shrugs, Smiles, white Gloves, with a perpetual Propenſity of ſtretching out his [84] Hand to lead Ladies, not only from his Fa⯑ther's Door, but from Pews, Pit, Box, or Galle⯑ry. It was alſo obſervable of him, that when up⯑on any Emergency he was forced to attend the Shop, he handled his Ell, and unrolled the Callicoes, with a particular Air of Scorn, Re⯑gret and Indignation. What the Cataſtrophe of this Character will be I am loth to deter⯑mine, but there ſeems to be ſome preſent Ma⯑lignancy in his Stars. His Mother, good Wo⯑man, came to me the other Day with Tears in her Eyes, and told me, that on the 6th of Fe⯑bruary laſt he went out, to all Appearance, well in the Morning. He had indeed diſgui⯑ſed himſelf in a rich Suit, by Means of which he was as much obſerved, as he was unknown, at Court; that he returned very late at Night, extremely diſordered, and has rav'd ever ſince. His Imagination being fill'd with the Idea's of what he ſaw there, he frequently breaks out in Exclamations on Baſſet, Drawing-Room, Balls, Rigadoons, Minuets, &c. He talks of Dut⯑cheſſes, Counteſſes, and Yeomen of the Guard. A poor Country Woman call'd in to buy a Yard of Flannel, and he cry'd, Stand by. A Servant Maid came juſt afterwards for a Callicoe Gown and Petticoat: Asking him how much would ſerve, he told her, ſhe muſt take ſo many Yards extraordinary, for he preſumed ſhe would have it with a Train; then offered to lead her to her Pattins, which ſhe had put off at the Door, and wiſh'd her Grace a good Night.

A Perſon of leſs Penetration than my ſelf, may eaſily ſee to the Bottom of Ned Pattern's Caſe. To ſpeak Poetically, he has, like Pro⯑metheus, ſtolen Fire from bright Eyes that roll in an Orb too far above him. It is highly pro⯑bable that he knows not the great Lady that has given him the Wound, and utterly impoſſible [85] that from her he ſhould ever obtain any Cure. If he can be informed of her Title and Habita⯑tion, I would adviſe him to entertain humble Thoughts, to aim at being introduced into the Preſence, and by Degrees into the Favour, of her Abigail, the Poſſeſſion of whom, though not as a principal Remedy, may yet as a Suc⯑cedaneum prove effectual to his Recovery; a Method very familiar to us in our Practice of Phyſick: And who knows, but the old Clothes and tarniſhed Habiliments, together with the caſt Airs and Second-hand Simagreex, of the original Beauty, may have a Virtue in them like that ſaid to have been in Achilles Spear, the Ruſt of which never failed to heal the Wounds it had made [...] This is what I think proper to adviſe for the preſent, though if this ſhould not have the deſired Effect, for the Sake of my old Friend Uriah, I ſhall take Nea's Caſe into further Conſideration, and ſave him (if poſſible) from a Bed of Straw and a dark Room.

MY Landlady has a little Boy about Five Years old, with whoſe Converſation I often divert my ſelf when I have taken my af⯑ternoon's Nap. I was yeſterday, with my Spectacles on, cutting out for him the Fi⯑gures of Kings, Milk-Maids, Trees, and the [87] like, in Paper. We happen'd to be in warm Debate upon ſome important Circumſtance in our Buſineſs, when Will Moody came into my Room, and ſeemed to wonder how a Perſon of my Age and Gravity could deſcend to ſuch Trifles. He made me ſo tedious a Viſit, and was ſo very diſagreeable in it, that I long'd till he was gone, and young Maſter and my ſelf had reſumed our Entertainment, having a King to finiſh, who wanted only his Crown and a Pair of Hands. I have ſince reflected with ſome Contempt on thoſe who think that Wiſdom conſiſts in a conſtant Tenor of Gra⯑vity, and that they can never put off their Se⯑riouſneſs without breaking into their Cha⯑racter. How ill Judges ſuch People are of hu⯑mane Nature may be determined, not only from the Opinions of Poets and Philoſophers, but from the Practice of the wiſeſt and greateſt Men. Socrates, who, I think, may be recko⯑ned in the firſt Rank of Mankind, was at Fourſcore taken by ſome of his Scholars in the Fact, Whiſtling and Dancing by himſelf. Scipio and Laelius uſed to amuſe themſelves with ga⯑thering Shells on the Sea-Shore, and Auguſtus to play at Cobnut with ſome favourite Boys.

As all Exerciſe, whether of Body or Mind, requires ſome Relaxation, ſo we may obſerve a Sort of Analogy or Agreement between Men's ſeveral Employments, and the Amuſements they fall into. Thus the Labourer, after the Toil of the Day, refreſhes himſelf in the Eve⯑ning with Wreſtling, Dancing, or flinging the Bar: The dull Plodders in Buſineſs, as ſoon as they are diſingaged from it, fall inſenſibly aſleep, or doze over a Pint: Men of great Ge⯑nius naturally fall into theſe Trifles which, at the ſame Time that they give Eaſe and Re⯑ſpite to the Faculties, ſerve to enliven in ſome [88] Degree, and keep them in a gentle Motion. This I take to have been the Eaſe of thoſe great Men whoſe Examples I have produced; and I am ſo far gone in this Opinion, that I be⯑lieve every Perſon underſtands the Art of Tri⯑fling agreeably, in Proportion to his Share of Wit and good Senſe; thoſe who are defective in either, being as incapable of doing it them⯑ſelves as of reliſhing it in others. The only In⯑convenience is, when Men in great or grave Stations are not cautious enough to diſtinguiſh before whom they give themſelves a Liberty this Way.

Will Moody, amongſt many others, has fur⯑niſhed me with this Obſervation. After much formal Advice againſt doing Things unſuitable to my Age, and telling me how much it would have reflected upon me if any but a Friend had come in, he added, That he was mightily ſhocked ſome Time ago by a Perſon of Repu⯑tation for Learning and Virtue, that had enter⯑tained him for half an Hour together with the Particularities of a Puppet-Show, which he carried his little Grandſon to ſee the Night be⯑fore. The Truth is, ſuch ſow and groveling Spirits as theſe have ſome Reaſon for their Cenſure, who poſſeſſing no good Qualities able to gain or to raiſe Eſteem, ſhould not preſume to act a Part that would ſerve only to make 'em ridiculous. A Man who hopes to eſtabliſh his Character and Fortune by the Solemnity of his Countenance, would be in the Wrong to part with it upon every ſlight Occaſion. Should he once deviate from the Road he is in, he knows not where it might end, nor how to recover his Miſtake. Even a Smile might be of dan⯑gerous Conſequence, and therefore he arms himſelf with an impregnable Gravity againſt all the Fooleries and Gaieties that may happen in his Way.

[89] Democritulus is equally a Coxcomb, though of a very different Mould. He laughs for Laughing's Sake in the wrong Place, and is a Trifler upon all Occaſions. In Purſuit of this Humour, he regards neither Time, Perſon, nor Circumſtance, but lays about him without Diſtinction, and is a Kind of Drawcanſir in Converſation. His neareſt Acquaintance, and their tendereſt Concerns, are the Subjects of his Wit and Ridicule; and he ſeems to value himſelf for nothing more, than for having got the better of Modeſty, good Manners, and Humanity. How an Inclination to Raillery may betray one into Offences of this Kind, I muſt produce my ſelf as an Inſtance; and as the following Letter has awakened in me a Senſe of my Error, my Willingneſs to inſert it here, will, I hope, in ſome Meaſure atone for it.

From the exceſſive Tenderneſs I have for the Fair Sex, I was inclined to hope that the Di⯑ſtreſs of Fidelia was not real, elſe I had applied thy ſelf to the Conſideration of it in a more ſe⯑rious [91] Manner. I could wiſh, my Correſpon⯑dents, for this Reaſon, would make uſe of a ſecret Mark, underſtood by them and my ſelf only, to let me know when I am drawn upon for my Advice in earneſt, and when not; it being otherwiſe impoſſible but that ſome mer⯑ry Wags ſhould Bite both me and my courte⯑ous Readers, as often as they in their great Wit and Wiſdom ſhall think fit ſo to do.

THE Relation between Maſters and their Servants, would, if rightly improved, contribute a great deal to the Happineſs of both. Seneca places the latter in a lower Rank of Friends, and imputes the vile and abject Treat⯑ment they uſually meet with, to the Pride or Ignorance of thoſe who have the Power in their Hands. For my own Part, I have ever had a Kind of Tenderneſs and Regard for the few I have entertained in my Service: I have at proper Times beſtowed ſuitable Advice up⯑on them, and to the beſt of my Power impro⯑ved both their Morals and Underſtanding. By this Means they have gradually commenced [92] humble Companions, and ſerved to amuſe me with a Kind of low Converſation, at the ſame Time that they were doing the little neceſſary Offices about my Perſon. My Maid, who is now turned of Fifty, is of ſingular Uſe in this Way: As ſhe is warming my Bed, ſhe tells me a Hundred Stories of Spirits without Heads, black Dogs, and ſeveral Kinds of Apparitions, that have for ſarten been ſeen in the Pariſh where ſhe was born. In a Morning, when ſhe brings me my Candle, ſhe acquaints me how the World goes, and entertains me with her ſimple Remarks on the moſt conſiderable Men, and moſt important Affairs in it. This is ma⯑king the moſt of her Capacity: But Pacolet, my other Servant, was a much greater Genius, and adorn'd with many excellent Qualities the high Station of Premiere Miniſtre to the Cenſor of Great Britain.

As the Publick has been frequently obliged to his Intelligence for the Detection of ſeveral ſecret Enormities, I cannot think it improper to give ſome Account of him here, of his Ab⯑ſence for Six Months paſt, and his late Return to theſe Parts. About the latter End of Au⯑guſt laſt he came to me, and after talking over ſome Affairs I had employed him in, he told me in ſhort, he was grown weary of acting al⯑together within the narrow Limits of this Kingdom, that if I would pleaſe to allow him a Salary, and ſend him abroad with a Cha⯑racter, he would in a ſhort Time viſit all the Courts of Europe, and bring from thence ma⯑ny Secrets and Curioſities worthy of my Know⯑ledge and Acceptance. My Correſpondents being numerous, and the Accounts they ſent me very faithful and material, I could the bet⯑ter ſpare Pacolet at that Time. Accordingly, Mr. Lillie prepared his Credentials, in which [93] he was ſtiled Legate a Latere from Iſaac Bic⯑kerſtaff Eſq Aſtrologer, Student in Phyſick, and Cenſor of the Kingdom of Great Britain. He ſet out ſoon after, and having made the pro⯑miſed Tour with an Expedition peculiar to his Way of Travelling, he arrived again at Sheer-Lane (from whence he was directed to Chan⯑nel-Row) the 22d Inſtant. I received him with much Pleaſure, together with the many Pre⯑ſents, Letters, &c. he brought me from Con⯑noiſſeurs, Great Princes, and Writers of Alma⯑nacks. I find by him that my Predictions firſt introduced me to their Knowledge, and laid a Foundation for the Fame of my ſucceeding Lu⯑cubrations. He was, it ſeems, particularly well received in the North; the contending Powers in thoſe Parts alternately perſwading him to declare in my Name for their Intereſt; which he prudently declined, alledging for his Excuſe, that he had particular Inſtructions from the Cenſor, his Maſter, not to meddle in thoſe Affairs. Amongſt other Things, he produc'd from his Portmanteau Two large Fo⯑lio's, each of which, he told me, contained an Account of his Travels, the ſame in Subſtance, but differing in Style and the Manner of Wri⯑ting. He added, ‘"That which I approved ſhould have the Preference, and ſhortly be made ready for the Preſs."’ In the firſt Place therefore he read as follows: ‘"Auguſt 22. 1710. This Morning, having taken Leave of my Maſter, I mounted my Flying-Horſe at the lower End of Sheer-Lane, and without obſerving much the Roads I paſſed over, ſoon arrived at Amſterdam. I baited there at the Cat and Fiddle, and after kiſſing my Lan⯑lady's Daughter in the Cellar, proceeded on my Journey to the Court of Vienna, which I reached about Noon the ſame Day."’ Very [94] well, Pacolet, ſays I. ‘"Ah Sir! replies he, this is but a plain Narration."’—Then taking up the other Volume, he begun thus: ‘'The Vehemence of the Summer Solſtice was now much abated, when, invited by the agreeable Temperature of the charming Sea⯑ſon, I reſolved to make an Excurſion into re⯑mote Climates. Accordingly having by long Premeditation determin'd the Time of my Departure, I applied my ſelf to that illuſtrious Perſon I have the Honour of appertaining un⯑to, and having obtained a gentle Indulgence for my intended Peregrination, I gave Orders for my winged Palfrey to be brought to the Extremity of Sheer-Lane, where, amongſt other noble Pieces of Architecture which ſalute the wondering Eye, that vulgar⯑ly diſtinguiſhed by the Denomination of Temple-Bar, is by no Means inferior to any round about it. It conſiſts of a noble Arch, through which, as through a mighty Chan⯑nel, gay, gilded Chariots, obſolete Coaches, and rumbling Dray-Carts, are backwards and forwards inceſſantly diſembogued; whilſt on either Side of it Foot-Paſſengers, like ſilent Streams, glide ſmoothly on, and divide themſelves afterwards into numberleſs Rivulets through all Parts of the Metro⯑polis.'’

Here I ſtarted up in ſome Diſorder, and ſnatching the Book out of his Hand, told him he ſhould never more ſee my Face if he did not that Moment go his Ways and ſleep till he had recovered his Underſtanding. After he had left me, I could not forbear running my Eye along the Margin of his Manuſcript, which pointed out ſome of the Contents in the fol⯑lowing Order.

Whilſt I was thus entertaining my ſelf, my Siſter Jenny came into my Room, with un⯑uſual Diſorder and Reſentment in her Air and Countenance. Then throwing an open'd Let⯑ter upon my Table. ‘"Here (ſays ſhe) take this, you can expoſe the Sappho's of our Sex, pray do not overlook the Corydon's of your own. In the Chair that brought me hither I found this Billet, and if you are in earneſt an Enemy to Vice, you will publiſh it in your next Paper.'’

THE Deſire to appear pleaſing and agreea⯑ble is very natural and prevailing, al⯑ [...]hough the Art of being ſo is little underſtood. [...]her by Affectation we overſhoot the Mark, [...] by Remiſſneſs fall ſhort of it. But nothing [...] effectually defeats us in this Purſuit than [...] wrong Eſtimate of our ſelves, either in Point [...]f the good Qualities we pretend to, or of the [...]tuation in Life that Fortune has aſſign'd us. [...] Want of due Attention to either of theſe Circumſtances will unavoidably betray us into [...]requent Miſcarriages in our Conduct; ſome⯑ [...]es lay us open to Envy, at others to Con⯑ [...]empt, and in the End eclipſe even that Merit [...] are really Maſters of. From this Conſide⯑ [...]tion, when I was a very young Fellow, how⯑ [...]er deſirous I might be of being diſtinguiſhed [...] the World, I kept a ſtrict Guard upon my [...]anity, reſolved to content my ſelf with paſ⯑ [...]ng through the ordinary Forms and Methods [...]f riſing into Repute, and at due Diſtance of [98] Time took my ſeveral Degrees in Converſa⯑tion. At firſt ſetting out, it was my conſtant Rule to pay a Deference to as many as had any Pretence to it, to ſmile modeſtly when they were pleaſed to be facetious, and often ſtand their Raillery, without offering to return it. It was not without ſome Difficulty that I got this Maſtery of my ſelf, in Spight of which, towards the latter End of an Evening, I now and then made an imprudent Sally, and endea⯑voured to be as ſprightly as my Betters; but as it happened, I never ſaid a good Thing over Night that was invidiouſly remember'd the next Morning: The Truth is, the Smallneſs of my Fortune laid ſome Reſtraint upon my Ge⯑nius. I ſeldom rightly enjoyed my ſelf till the Reckoning was paid, and by this Means my Gaiety begun when that of other People was at an End. At length, by an habitual Dulneſs, and other innocent Arts in my Behaviour, I worked my ſelf into the Eſteem of my Ac⯑quaintance, and in ſomething more than four Years was allowed to be one of the Company. Then it was that I began to exert my Talents, and by aſſuming every Day more and more, at length eſtabliſhed an indiſputable Authority in the World. Though the Impatience and Fire of Youth may ſuggeſt otherwiſe, theſe are certainly the Steps that lead ſafely to conſum⯑mate Greatneſs, in whatever Form or Profeſſion we aſpire after it.

I am indeed of Opinion, that ſome Years of our Lives are in a Manner thrown away and loſt by Means of a wrong Education; which nothing has more effectually convinced me of, than the great and early Improvements that my Friend Sam Truſty's Nephew, mentioned in one of my former Papers, has made under the particular Care and Direction of his Uncle: [99] But till the ſame Method can be brought into general Practice, we muſt e'en take the World as we find it; we muſt ſubmit to the Rules univerſally received, and inſtead of weighing our own Merits abſtractedly, conſider them as they are placed in Relation to, and Dependance upon, thoſe about us. Amongſt other Grada⯑tions neceſſary to be obſerved in Life, there is one which, for the Benefit of thoſe who come Strangers to this City, I cannot but take No⯑tice of; that of Coffee-houſes I mean, the Violation of which may otherwiſe lead them into many Inconveniencies and Indecorums. The following Letter, which came to Hand this Evening, has partly occaſioned this Re⯑ [...]ection.

There ſeems to be a true Engliſh Spirit in the Reſentment of my Correſpondent; but if I might adviſe, he ſhould let this Matter reſt for the preſent. In leſs than three Winters I will un⯑dertake he ſhall be able to look the Enemy in the Face, provided he lives regular, and takes the Meaſures I preſcribe. There is ſcarce any Part of the Town ſo deſtitute, where he may not find out a little Coffee-houſe to drink a Cup of Sage in every Morning, and peruſe the Tatler as often as it comes out. Here I confine him for Two Months: If in that Time he can compaſs to have a Place kept for him by the Fire, to talk without being contradicted, and to read my Paper to the Company, he ſhall then, by Vertue of a Paſs from Charles Lillie, be allowed the Liberty of the Rainbow near Temple-Bar; there to continue till the Bookſel⯑lers thereabouts have found him out for a Wit, and employed him in ſome Libel againſt the late or preſent Miniſtry. He will of Courſe paſs afterwards to the Grecian, and may (if he thinks fit) call in at Tom's in Devereux-Court. It will by this Time be proper that he ſhould make himſelf a new Suit of Clothes. I could [101] wiſh they might not be too gay, which will by no Means become a Perſon whom I am con⯑ducting through the World. According to the beſt Calculation I can make, he will, by De⯑cember the 18th, Anno Domini 1712. arrive at Will's, where, if he is capable of further Im⯑provement, he may ſoon furniſh himſelf with good Senſe, Politicks, and good Manners e⯑nough to carry him through the reſt of his Journey, and ſet him upon an equal Foot with the Inhabitants of St. James's Coffee-houſe, White's, or the Cocoa-Tree.

THoſe inferior Duties of Life which the French call les petite Morale, or the ſmal⯑ler Morals, are with us diſtinguiſhed by the Name of good Manners or Breeding. This I look upon, in the general Notion of it, to be a Sort of artificial good Senſe, adapted to the meaneſt Capacities, and introduced to make Mankind eaſy in their Commerce with each o⯑ther. Low and little Underſtandings, without ſome Rules of this Kind, would be perpetually wandring into a Thouſand Indecencies and Ir⯑regularities in Behaviour, and in their ordinary Converſation fall into the ſame boiſterous Fa⯑miliarities that one obſerves amongſt them when a Debauch has quite taken away the Uſe of their Reaſon. In other Inſtances it is odd to conſider, that for Want of common Diſcre⯑tion the very End of good Breeding is wholly perverted, and Civility, intended to make us eaſy, is employed in laying Chains and Fet⯑ters upon us, in debarring us of our Wiſhes, [103] and in croſſing our moſt reaſonable Deſires and Inclinations. This Abuſe reigns chiefly in the Country, as I found to my Vexation, when I was laſt there, in a Viſit I made to a Neigh⯑bour about Two Miles from my Couſin. As ſoon as I enter'd the Parlour, they forced me into the great Chair that ſtood cloſe by a huge Fire, and kept me there by Force till I was al⯑moſt ſtifled. Then a Boy came in great Hurry to pull off my Boots, which I in vain oppoſed, urging that I muſt return ſoon after Dinner. In the mean Time the good Lady whiſpered her eldeſt Daughter, and ſlipped a Key into her Hand. She returned inſtantly with a Beer Glaſs half full of Aqua Mirabilis and Syrrup of Gillyflowers. I took as much as I had a Mind for, but Madam vowed I ſhould drink it off, (for ſhe was ſure it would do me Good after coming out of the cold Air) and I was forced to obey, which abſolutely took away my Sto⯑mach. When Dinner came in, I had a Mind to ſit at a Diſtance from the Fire; but they told me, it was as much as my Life was worth, and ſet me with my Back juſt againſt it. Tho' my Appetite was quite gone, I reſolved to force down as much as I could, and deſired the Leg of a Pullet. Indeed, Mr. Bickerſtaff, ſays the Lady, you muſt eat a Wing to oblige me, and ſo put a Couple upon my Plate. I was perſecuted at this Rate during the whole Meal. As often as I called for Small Beer, the Maſter tipped the Wink, and the Servant brought me a Brimmer of October. Some Time after Din⯑ner I ordered my Couſin's Man who came with me to get ready the Horſes; but it was reſol⯑ved I ſhould not ſtir that Night; and when I ſeemed pretty much bent upon going, they or⯑dered the Stable Door to be locked, and the Children hid away my Cloak and Boots. The [104] next Queſtion was, what I would have [...] Supper. I ſaid I never eat any Thing at Nigh [...] but was at laſt in my own Defence obliged t [...] name the firſt Thing that came into my Head [...] After Three Hours ſpent chiefly in Apology fo [...] my Entertainment, inſinuating to me, ‘"Tha [...] this was the worſt Time of the Year for Pro⯑viſions, that they were at a great Diſtance from any Market, that they were afraid I ſhould be ſtarved, and they knew they kept me to my Loſs"’, the Lady went, and left me to her Husband (for they took ſpecial Care I ſhould never be alone). As ſoon as her Back was turned, the little Miſſes ran backwards and forwards every Moment, and conſtantly as they came in or went out, made a Courtefie directly at me, which in good Manners I was forced to return with a Bow, and, Your humble Servant pretty Miſs. Exactly at Eight the Mo⯑ther came up, and diſcovered by the Redneſs of her Face that Supper was not far off. It was twice as large as the Dinner, and my Per⯑ſecution doubled in Proportion. I deſired at my uſual Hour to go to my Repoſe, and was conducted to my Chamber by the Gentleman, his Lady, and the whole Train of Children. They importuned me to drink ſomething be⯑fore I went to Bed, and upon my refuſing, at laſt left a Bottle of Stingo, as they called it, for Fear I ſhould wake and be thirſty in the Night. I was forced in the Morning to riſe and dreſs my ſelf in the Dark, becauſe they would not ſuffer my Kinſman's Servant to diſturb me at the Hour I had deſired to be called. I was now reſolved to break through all Meaſures to get away, and after ſitting down to a mon⯑ſtrous Breakfaſt of cold Beef, Mutton, Neats Tongues, Veniſon Paſty, and Stale Beer, took Leave of the Family; but the Gentleman would [105] needs ſee me Part of my Way, and carry me a ſhort Cut through his own Grounds, which, he told me, would ſave half a Mile's Riding. This laſt Piece of Civility had like to have coſt me dear, being once or twice in Danger of my Neck, by leaping over his Ditches, and at laſt forced to alight in the Dirt, when my Horſe, having ſlip'd his Bridle, ran away, and took us up more than an Hour to recover him a⯑gain.

It is evident that none of the Abſurdities I met with in this Viſit proceeded from an ill Intention, but from a wrong Judgment of Complaiſance, and a Miſapplication of the Rules of it. I cannot ſo eaſily excuſe the more refined Criticks upon Behaviour, who having profeſſed no other Study, are yet infinitely de⯑fective in the moſt material Parts of it. Ne [...] Faſhion has been bred all his Life about Court, and underſtands to a Tittle all the Punctilio's of a Drawing-Room. He viſits moſt of the fine Women near St. James's, and upon all Oc⯑caſions ſays the civileſt and ſofteſt Things to them of any Man breathing. To Mr. Iſaac he owes an eaſie Slide in his Bow, and a graceful Manner of coming into a Room. But in ſome other Caſes he is very far from being a well⯑bred Perſon: He laughs at Men of far ſuperior Underſtanding to his own, for not being as well dreſſed as himſelf, deſpiſes all his Ac⯑quaintance that are not Quality, and in publick Places has on that Account often avoided ta⯑king Notice of ſome of the beſt Speakers in the Houſe of Commons. He rails ſtrenuouſly at both Univerſities before the Members of either, and never is heard to ſwear an Oath, or break in upon Morality or Religion, but in the Com⯑pany of Divines. On the other Hand, a Man of right Senſe has all the Eſſentials of good [106] Breeding, though he may be wanting in the Forms of it. Horatio has ſpent moſt of his Time at Oxford. He has a great deal of Learning, an agreeable Wit, and as much Modeſty as ſerves to adorn without concealing his other good Qualities. In that retired Way of Living he ſeems to have formed a Notion of humane Na⯑ture, as he has found it deſcribed in the Wri⯑tings of the greateſt Men, not as he is like to meet with it in the common Courſe of Life. Hence it is, that he gives no Offence, that he converſes with great Deference, Candor, and Humanity. His Bow, I muſt confeſs, is ſome⯑what aukward; but then he has an extenſive, univerſal, and unaffected Knowledge, which makes ſome Amends for it. He would make no extraordinary Figure at a Ball; but I can aſ⯑ſure the Ladies in his Behalf, and for their own Conſolation, that he has writ better Verſes on the Sex than any Man now living, and is pre⯑paring ſuch a Poem for the Preſs as will tranſ⯑mit their Praiſes and his own to many Genera⯑tions.

THE Concern I have for the Errors of Mankind in general, does ſenſibly abate or increaſe in Proportion to the Rank and Quality of thoſe who fall under my Obſervation. For this Reaſon I can never ſuffer a Coronet to paſs me without enquiring whom it belongs to, and whether it be worn in a Manner ſuitable to ſo honourable a Diſtinction. I can ſay with a great deal of Truth, that I am commonly an⯑ſwered to my Satisfaction: When it happens otherwiſe, I carry my Enquiry yet further, and inform my ſelf with the greateſt Exactneſs ima⯑ginable, whether the Misfortune of Complexion, or that of Education, has chiefly contributed to eclipſe the Luſtre, and defeat the Advantages, of a high and noble Deſcent. Many Failures I find chargeable on the former, but they are not ſo numerous, nor of ſo dangerous a Nature, as [108] thoſe which reſult from the latter, being only ſuch Tendencies of the Mind as, by early Care and proper Application, might have been culti⯑vated and improved into uſeful and generous Qualifications. It is therefore of the laſt Impor⯑tance, as well to the future Happineſs of our young Nobility, as to that of a Nation in great Meaſure depending on them; that their Genius ſhould be nicely obſerved, their Capacity im⯑proved, and a right Turn given to their Under⯑ſtanding. To effect this, I have ſometimes had it in my Head to write a Treatiſe with Dire⯑ctions to Tutors or Governors in the Diſcharge of ſo weighty an Employment; but being cre⯑dibly informed that they were a Sort of People who had little Opinion of any Body's Wiſdom but their own, I was diſcouraged from that Undertaking, and obliged to purſue other Meaſures. I have within this Twelvemonth made a Coffee-houſe Acquaintance with as ma⯑ny of them as I could, and now and then over a Diſh of Tea enquired into the Schemes and Methods they have laid down for the Manage⯑ment of their Pupils. The firſt I happened up⯑on, is a grave, ſober, and diſcreet Perſon, turn⯑ed of Fifty, his Countenance ſomewhat formi⯑dable, and his Converſation extremely rigid and ſevere. He has by ſome Means or other ſeen the Outſides of moſt of the Courts in Eu⯑rope, and got a Smattering in the Languages; but having no Taſte of polite Learning, nor a⯑ny Inſight into humane Nature, he is much better qualified to wait in an Ante-room, or keep the Accounts of the Family he belongs to, than to conduct the Hopes of it into the World. He has often told me with great Pride and Sa⯑tisfaction, ‘"That he has his young Lord in as much Subjection as a Footboy, That he of [109] Courſe denies him every Thing he has a Mind to, and that in the Midſt of his Diver⯑ſion he can make him tremble with a Frown."’ Such is the Love of Tyranny in mean and nar⯑row Spirits, even in the loweſt Circumſtance of Power. Another of them ſets up for a fine Gentleman, and is a Pedant in taking Pains to be otherwiſe. He has a Notion that Letters are but a poor Accompliſhment for a Man of Quality, that a good Air, and being furiouſly of a Party, are ſufficient Diſtinctions for one that is born to many others; and therefore in⯑dulges the Youth under his Care in an immo⯑derate Love of Dogs, Horſes, Plays, Gallantry, and all Manner of Entertainments. At Lei⯑ſure Hours he flatters him with an Opinion of his Superiority to the common Level of Mankind, and ſtrictly cautions him againſt entertaining the leaſt Regard for the Scum and Dregs of the People. What a Patriot, Hero, and Counſellor, may we hope for from ſo extraordinary an Education! A Third, whom I ſuffer indeed to viſit me now and then, ſeems to have a better Senſe of his Duty in this Station than either of the others. Knowing that I am a great Lover of Chil⯑dren, he one Day brought his Pupil, who is very young, to my Lodgings. He had long promiſed him, I found, that he would carry him to wait upon Mr. Bickerſtaff; and I do not remember, that I was ever ſo well pleaſed with being pointed at in Publick, as I was with the particular Survey this little Boy took of me. After this Curioſity was pretty well over, he ſeemed willing to enter into Converſation, in which he acquitted himſelf with the utmoſt good Manners, and a manly Turn of Wit very diſproportioned to his Years. I could perceive [110] he had a great Mind to be talking of the Tat⯑lers, and I on Purpoſe led him into it. He made ſome very ſurpriſing Remarks upon ſeveral of them, and with an agreeable Freedom ask'd me the Meaning of others that he did not under⯑ſtand. I begged his little Lordſhip to accept of the Volumes I had by me, and in Return he deſired my Leave to be a Subſcriber for the next. Ever now and then I had my Eye upon his Tutor, and could perceive in him an inex⯑preſſible Pleaſure for the good Behaviour of his Charge.

I could not help taking him aſide ſoon after, and telling him, that I almoſt envy'd him the Happineſs of having ſo fine a Genius in his Hands: ‘"Go on Sir, ſays I, to cultivate and improve it, and by that Means be an Inſtru⯑ment of publick Good to your Country. You will never, perhaps, have it in your Power to act in a more meritorious Capacity. Think only what a Pleaſure it will be to you, to ſee this young Gentleman hereafter at the Head of an Army, or managing a Debate in the moſt illuſtrious Aſſembly in the World. Be⯑lieve me, you will in a great Meaſure partake his Glory, and act as it were by Proxy in whatever Station his Merit ſhall advance him to If I can form any Judgment of him at theſe Years, you will from his future Grati⯑tude and Eſteem receive the Fruits of the ut⯑moſt Pains you can beſtow upon him. He will conſider you almoſt in the higheſt Rela⯑tion, and next to the Perſons that gave him Life, will love and honour one that pointed out to him the Uſe and End of his Being.'’

THough I ſeldom eat out of my own Lodg⯑ings, I was prevailed on the other Day to dine with ſome Friends at the Rummer in Queen-ſtreet. A Phyſician, who was engaged to be of the Party, ſtaying ſomewhat beyond the Time, Sam Truſty would needs have me go with him into the Kitchen, and ſee how Mat⯑ters went there. I would have excuſed my ſelf, fearing leſt the Heat of the Place, and the Steam of the ſeveral Diſhes, ſhould have taken away my Stomach; but he aſſured me, that Mr. Brawn had an Art (beyond other Cooks) of making his Cuſtomers more hungry by the Sight of his Kitchen. I was indeed very much pleaſed and ſurpriſed with the extraordinary Splendor and Oeconomy I obſerved there, but above all, with the great Readineſs and Dex⯑terity of the Man himſelf. His Motions were quick, but not preeipitate: He in an Inſtant applied himſelf from one Stove to another without the leaſt Appearance of a Hurry, and in the Midſt of Smoak and Fire preſerved an [112] incredible Serenity of Countenance. By thi [...] Time the Doctor was come, and made a Thou⯑ſand Apologies for being ſo late. He aſſure [...] us, by the great Powers above, that nothin [...] ſhould have kept him but the extreme Dange [...] of Two or Three of his Patients. We eaſil [...] believed him, knowing his uncommon Te [...] ⯑derneſs for thoſe under his Care, and [...] the ſame Time the Multiplicity of his Pr [...] ⯑ctice, without the leaſt Affectation to make [...] Shew of it. This Gentleman, after we h [...] dined, was obliged to give Audience to ſevera [...] Apothecaries, that came to him with differen [...] Caſes from all Parts of the Town. Havin [...] ſome Knowledge of Phyſick, I took the Libert [...] of looking over his Bills as he writ them [...] which he did with wonderful Quickneſs, an [...] ſeeming Inadvertency, entertaining us all th [...] while with an incoherent, but agreeable Co [...] ⯑verſation. Notwithſtanding the great Numbe [...] of Diſtempers, the infinite Variety of thei [...] Symptoms, and the Ignorance of thoſe who re⯑preſented them, he enter'd into them all with an incredible Penetration, and without omit⯑ting one Drug that was proper, or inſerting one that was otherwiſe, diſpatched more Preſcrip⯑tions to the Purpoſe in Three Quarters of and Hour, than Dr. Ebony has done in Twenty Years of his Life. It being now towards S [...] of the Clock, it was propoſed that we ſhould go and ſee Love for Love, which was to be played that Night in Drury-Lane. I cannot ſay but this excellent Comedy was tolerably well performed; but I ſhall be very cautious for the future how I beſtow any Commendations on this or that particular Player, ſince I find by Experience they have not Judgment enough to ſupport the Weight of them: One, whom I [113] [...]owed to be an admirable Buffoon, having [...]on that Foot ſet up for a Critick; and ano⯑ [...]r, from being encouraged by me, to attempt [...]e Part of Othello, having ever ſince conſidered [...]mſelf and very lately acted, in the Capacity [...] a Hero. I ſate with great Attention during [...]e whole Entertainment, and could not but [...]ſerve, notwithſtanding the great Diverſity of [...]aracters that are blended in it, how exactly [...]e Diſtinctions of each were preſerved thro' [...]e whole, and that no one Perſon, from the [...]ginning to the End, ſpoke a Sentence that [...]uld properly have been put into the Mouth of [...]y other. As ſoon as the Play was over, I [...]apped my ſelf warm in my Cloak, and wal⯑ [...]d directly to my Lodgings. As I was recol⯑ [...]cting how I had ſpent the Day, it came into [...]y Head that there was a very great Analogy [...] Reſemblance between the neceſſary Qualifi⯑ [...]tions of a Phyſician, a Cook, and thoſe of a [...]ramatick Writer. For the firſt of theſe, if we [...]nſider him in the Hurry of his Buſineſs, with [...]s Head full of Materia Medica, hard Names [...] Diſtempers, and unſpeakable Terms of Ana⯑ [...]my, in theſe whimſical Circumſtances, I ſay, [...] what fatal Conſequence might the leaſt Over⯑ [...]ght prove? For Inſtance: Should he chance [...] preſcribe Catechu, Calaminaris, and Oſtiocolla, [...]ſtead of Fenugreek Seed, and Treacle of Andro⯑ [...]achus, to one in an Eriſipelatous Feaver; in⯑ [...]ead of Compound Bryony Water, and Langius's [...]ntiepileptick, a Decoction of Biſt [...]rt [...], or an [...]uthropapaverous Cataplaſm, in the Paroxyſns [...]f an Apoplexy, the Patient is loſt, and what [...] much worſe, his Reputation ruined for ever. [...]he Province of a Cook is no leſs difficult and [...]erplexing; heated as he is, and confounded [...]ith the manifold Demands of thoſe about [...]m, he muſt be ſure not to miſtake his Ingre⯑dients, [114] nor the exact Proportion of them. N [...] he muſt dip in Pepper, now in ſliced Pipp [...] then in Pritaches, Troufles, Morelles, Gooſeberri [...] Spinage, or Barberries: One Moment he atte [...] on Olio, the next on Oyſters in Staffado, Eggs [...] la-Hugenotte; and in the Midſt of all theſe A [...] ⯑fairs, muſt be at Leiſure to give proper and [...] ⯑rect Anſwers to Fifty Queſtions at once. [...] no leſs neceſſary that he ſhould have a gre [...] Command of the Terms of his Art: He bre [...] a Deer, rears a Gooſe, [...]aches a Curlew, all [...] a Pheaſant, ſplays a Bream, ſides a Haddock, t [...] a Barbel, tranches a Sturgeon, barbs a Lobſter, &c The Poet remains to be conſidered: He inde [...] compoſes at Leiſure, and is leſs open to f [...] ⯑quent Interruptions than either of the for [...] But then the Taſtes and Conſtitutions he is [...] conſult are no leſs Difficult, and his Work of [...] more refined and delicate Nature. The infi [...] Variety of his own Thoughts, is to him what [...] Crowd of People are to the others. He fin [...] himſelf engaged, perhaps, with a Dozen [...] Fourteen Perſons, in a great Meaſure the Crea⯑tures of his own Imagination, each of which [...] is to furniſh with what is exactly proper to their Character, and no more; and to conduct them in the ſame Figure and Station to the End of his Deſign. This requires a ready Genius, and a cloſe Attention, otherwiſe he will fall into groſs Errors, and often apply his Wit and Hu⯑mour in the wrong Place. It is for this Rea⯑ſon, that I, for my own Part, would as ſoon propoſe to eat luxuriouſly in a Cellar, or apply my ſelf for a Cure to Dr. Ebony in a dangerous Illneſs, as hope to be entertained to my Satiſ⯑faction by moſt of our modern Dramatick Per⯑formances.

DOctor Proteus, of Wadham College in Ox⯑ford, whoſe Letter I inſerted in the Tat⯑ [...]er Numb. 9. is at laſt come to Town. The Whim of the Foot-ball went off upon the Breaking of the Froſt, when that violent Exerciſe natu⯑ [...]ally ceaſes. The poor Man is mighty ſenſible of the Condition he has been in, and is ſo far from being proud of the Spleen, that he is re⯑ſolved to leave no lawful Means untry'd to get rid of it. He looks very ill indeed, and I fear [...]t will be next to impoſſible to effect a perfect Cure, ſince by the Account he gives me it has run in the Family for ſome Time. His Father had this Misfortune ſo very young, that he was a Kit when he was a meer Stripling, and after⯑wards became in his riper Age a very grave and worthy Hum-drum, or Baſs-Viol; in which Capacity, (or rather Caſe) he ſerved his Country (being at the ſame Time a Juſtice of the Peace) for ſeveral Years, and at laſt died in it. Of Seven virtuous Ladies that were his Aunts, Six lived and died Virginals. However [116] as Art finds Means, according to the Obſerva⯑tion of the moſt ingenious Author of the Plai⯑ſter for Corns, I told the Doctor, if he woul [...] apply himſelf to the famous Aeſculapius, [...] ſhould be very glad of joining with him, in or⯑der to re-eſtabliſh his Health. Accordingly he went Yeſterday to wait upon him. But I was very much ſurprized when, upon his coming to me again in the Evening. I found he had not received the Satisfaction we both expected from the Aſſiſtance of ſo celebrated a Phyſician. ‘'Mr. Bickerſtaff, (ſaid he to me with a deject⯑ed Countenance) I have been to ſee my old Friend Aeſculapius. I found with him a young Man whom I took at firſt to have been a Pa⯑tient; for he looked ſadly. At his going out, I heard the Doctor ſay, Either forbear to uſe thoſe Powders, or ſee my Face no more. Ah! old Friend, ſaid he, upon Sight of me, this ex⯑travagant Boy will certainly undo me. Have I walked up ſo many Pair of Stairs to get a little Money together, to have this young Fellow ſpend it at Twopence a Day for Powder for his Hair? Come ſit down, let me know what it is brings you to Town. I told him my Caſe in as few Words as I could, to which he anſwered with a melancholy Look, That he was not at all ſurpriſed at it, ſince he was but too ſenſible of his having formerly been a Football himſelf; and to let me know what ſtrange Impreſſions the Mind of Man is capable of, he aſſured me, That a certain Gentleman in this Town me long ago took his Face for a Spitting Pot. I was no leſs ſtartled at what he ſaid, than at what I afterwards obſerved. We were no ſooner ſeated, but looking on his Watch, he ſtarted up again, and cried, Adſo! we muſt think of Dinner: Then ſtepping into the next Room, he fetched from thence a String. Ha⯑ving [117] faſten'd one End of it to a Nail over his Chimney, he tied a Leg of Mutton to the o⯑ther, and giving it a Twirl, began a long Complaint of the melancholy Circumſtances he found himſelf in. He told me, Every Body thought him vaſtly rich, but they did not know what the Expences of Life were. Then giving his Mutton another Twirl, 'Tis true, ſays he, I have Fourſcore Thouſand Pounds in the Funds; but if a Man did not take Care to dreſs hit [...] Dinner, he might be poiſoned for all that. So deſiring me to reach him the Flower-Box, Doctor, ſays he, What do you think gilding a Chariot might ſtand me in? Sir, ſaid I, What need you trouble your ſelf about that? All the World knows—All the World may know what they pleaſe, replied he, but you will ſee me want before I die. However, ſays he, I think it would do no Harm if we had a Dripping-pan now; Pray give the Box a ſhake, Doctor, whilſt I ſtep and fetch it. You muſt not take it ill that I put you upon theſe Offices, there are but few Friends I can truſt to do them for me. He went on, Do you love French Wine? I believe you may; I did once my ſelf: But let me tell you, That White Port is not only the cheapeſt, but the beſt Wine now about Town. Here I interrupted him, and deſired he would think a little of my Caſe. Why, ſuppoſe, ſays he, you went to the Bath? I have been there formerly. Or what if you took a Lodging about Hammerſmith? Or elſe met me at Tom's to Morrow? I perceived it was much the ſame which of the Three I did, or whether I did any of them or no; ſo I e'en took my Leave, and came away. Judge you, Mr. Bickerſtaff, whether this Gentleman is able to do any Good, as the Caſe ſtands between him and me.’

[118] As I was preparing to make ſome very ſ [...] ⯑ous Reflections on the fantaſtical Humours [...] this great Man, a Porter knocked at my Do [...] and told me, I muſt by all Means come [...] to the Royal-Oak in Eſſex-ſtreet, and at the ſ [...] Time delivered me the following Letter:

THE Dignity and Diſtinction of Men of Wit is ſeldom enough conſidered, either by themſelves or others; their own Behaviour, and the Uſage they meet with, being generally very much of a Piece. I have at this Time in my Hands an Alphabetical Liſt of the Beaux Eſprits about this Town, Four or Five of whom have made the proper Uſe of their Genius, by gaining the Eſteem of the beſt and greateſt Men, and by turning it to their own Advantage in ſome Eſtabliſhment of their Fortunes, how⯑ever unequal to their Merit; others ſatisfying themſelves with the Honour of having Acceſs to great Tables, and of being ſubject to the Call of every Man of Quality, who upon Occaſion wants one to ſay witty Things for the Diver⯑ſion of the Company. This Treatment never moves my Indignation ſo much as when it is practiſed by a Perſon, who though he owes his [122] own Riſe purely to the Reputation of his Part [...] yet appears to be as much aſhamed of it, as [...] rich City Knight to be denominated from t [...] Trade he was firſt apprenticed to, and affec [...] the Air of a Man born to his Titles, and conſe⯑quently above the Character of a Wit, or [...] Scholar. If thoſe who poſſeſs great Endow⯑ments of the Mind would ſet a juſt Value upo [...] themſelves, they would think no Man's Ac⯑quaintance whatſoever a Condeſcention, no [...] accept it from the greateſt upon unworthy o [...] ignominious Terms. I know a certain Lord that has often invited a Set of People, and pro⯑poſed for their Diverſion a Buffoon Player, and an eminent Poet, to be of the Party; and which was yet worſe, thought them both ſufficiently recompenced by the Dinner, and the Honour of his Company. This Kind of Inſolence is riſen to ſuch a Height, that I my ſelf was the other Day ſent to by a Man with a Title, whom I had never ſeen, deſiring the Fa⯑vour that I would dine with him and half a Dozen of his ſelect Friends. I found after⯑wards, the Footman had told my Maid below Stairs, that my Lord having a Mind to be mer⯑ry, had reſolved right or wrong to ſend for ho⯑neſt Iſaac. I was ſufficiently provoked with the Meſſage; however I gave the Fellow no o⯑ther Anſwer, than that I believed he had mi⯑ſtaken the Perſon, for I did not remember that his Lord had ever been introduced to me. I have Reaſon to apprehend that this Abuſe hath been owing rather to a Meanneſs of Spirit in Men of Parts, than to the natural Pride or Ignorance of their Patrons. Young Students coming up to Town from the Places of their Education, are dazzled with the Grandeur they every where meet, and making too much Haſte to diſtin⯑guiſh their Parts, inſtead of waiting to be deſi⯑red [123] and careſſed, are ready to pay their Court at any Rate to a great Man, whoſe Name they have ſeen in a publick Paper, or the Frontiſ⯑piece of a Dedication. It has not always been thus; Wit in polite Ages has ever begot either Eſteem or Fear: The Hopes of being celebra⯑ted, or the Dread of being ſtigmatized, pro⯑cured an univerſal Reſpect and Awe for the Perſons of ſuch as were allowed to have the Power of diſtributing Fame or Infamy where they pleaſed. Aretine had all the Princes of Europe his Tributaries, and when any of them had committed a Folly that laid them open to his Cenſure, they were forced by ſome Preſent extraordinary to compound for his Silence; of which there is a famous Inſtance on Record. When Charles the Fifth had miſcarried in his African Expedition, which was looked upon as the weakeſt Undertaking of that great Empe⯑ror, he ſent Aretine a Gold Chain, who made ſome Difficulty of accepting it, ſaying, It was too ſmall a Preſent in all Reaſon for ſo great a Folly. For my own Part, in this Point I differ from him, and never could be prevailed upon, by any valuable Conſideration, to conceal a Fault or a Folly ſince I firſt took the Cenſor⯑ſhip upon me.

Having long conſidered with my ſelf the ill Application that ſome make of their Talents, I have this Day erected a Court of Alienation, by the Statutes of which the next a Kin is im⯑powered to beg the Parts and Underſtanding of any ſuch Perſon as can be proved, either by imbezelling, making a wrong Uſe, or no Uſe at all of the ſaid Parts and Underſtanding, not to know the true Value thereof: Who ſhall immediately be put out of Poſſeſſion, and diſ⯑qualified for ever; the ſaid Kinſman giving ſufficient Security that he will employ them as [124] the Court ſhall direct. I have ſet down under certain Heads the ſeveral Ways by which M [...] proſtitute and abuſe their Parts, and from thence have framed a Table of Rules, whereby the Maintiff may be informed when he has a good Title to eject the Defendant. I may in a following Paper give the World ſome Account of the Proceedings of this Court. I have al⯑ready got Two able Criticks for my Aſſeſſors upon the Bench, who, though they have al⯑ways exerciſed their Pens in taking off from the Wit of others, have never pretended to challenge any themſelves, and conſequently are in no Danger of being engaged in making Claims, or of having any Suits commence a⯑gainſt them. Every Writer ſhall be tried by his Peers, throughly vers'd in that Point where⯑in he pretends to excel; for which Reaſon the Jury can never conſiſt of above half the ordi⯑nary Number, I ſhall in general be very tender how I put any Perſon out of his Wits; but as the Management of ſuch Poſſeſſions is of great Conſequence to the World, I ſhall hold my ſelf obliged to veſt the Right in ſuch Hands as will anſwer the great Purpoſes they were intended for, and leave the former Proprietors to ſee their Fortune in ſome other Way.

I am informed here, that upon what I ſaid in my Paper of Saturday laſt, relating to the late Performance of a Play called Love for Love, it will be again repreſented to Morrow. I have formerly done this Comedy the Honour of my Preſence in a very publick Manner, and there⯑fore in Reſpect to my ſelf, as well as to the Merit of That, do ſtrictly command that there be a full Audience both now, and as often as it ſhall hereafter be played.

THE Court being ſeated, Silence made, &c. Mr. Critick Wordy, riſing ſlowly from the Bench, ſpoke in the following Manner:

Here Mr. Critick Snap in⯑terrupted him, and ſaid, ‘In ſhort, Brother, let us proceed to Buſineſs: Every Body that comes here knows what he has to do.’

[128] Then an Indictment was read againſt Jere [...] Wrangle, Batchelor of Arts, for that he the ſa [...] Jeremy did ſome Nights ago take upon him, in the Company of ſeveral Officers of Her Maje⯑ſty's Foot-Guards, to deny many plain and un⯑deniable Conſequences, under Pretence that the Arguments were not brought in Mood and Fi⯑gure, and that he could not find in them either Major, Minor, or Concluſion. The Plaintiff ſaid, ‘'He had brought the Buſineſs into that Court as having no other Way of doing himſelf Right on one that profeſſed to be a meer Scholar. As for Majors or Minors, why the Gentleman ſhould twit him with them, he could not imagine, that he had ſerved, and at that Time had his Commiſſion for Lieute⯑nant-Colonel in his Pocket."’The Court, up⯑on a fair Hearing, ordered Mr. Wrangle to be diveſted of his Logick, which was beſtowed on one Mr. Smart, an Enſign, nearly related to the Defendant, and then appearing in Court to put in his Claim. There was in an Inſtant a viſible Alteration in each of their Faces: Jere⯑my's Pedantick Gravity diſappeared, and his Couſin, the Soldier, walked out of Court with a becoming Seriouſneſs in his Gate and Air.

Tobias Sternhold was next produced in Court by his Relations, who had obtained a Writ of Captias againſt him. They alledged, That ha⯑ving a Wife and large Family, which he might have maintained comfortably by his Induſtry, (he being a very good Clerk) he had neverthe⯑leſs given himſelf up wholly to the making of Things with Rhimes at the End of them, which he called Verſes; and that he was come to that Paſs at laſt, that he frequently writ his Orders and Warrants in that Way; inſomuch that the Commiſſioners had threatned to turn him out, which, if it ſhould happen, would [129] [...]e to the utter Ruin of himſelf and poor Fami⯑ [...]y: Therefore they prayed the Aſſiſtance of the Court. He pretended to juſtify himſelf, by ſaying, That one Genius, by Name, had drawn him into it, and quoted the Examples of Ovid and Spencer, that could not reſiſt the Inſtiga⯑tion of Poetry, producing likewiſe ſome In⯑ſtances of Rich Poets ſtill living. Mr. Snap took him up ſhort, and bad him not trifle with the Bench, telling him, ‘"If they writ Verſes, it was in their own Coaches, or when they had nothing elſe to do."’ Then Sentence was paſſed upon him, ‘"That he ſhould be Huska⯑naw'd, and his Penmanſhip put into the Hands of his Wife.'’

She immediately took down the Proceedings of the Court in Writing; upon which he fell into a violent Paſſion, and ſuch a Torrent of Words followed, as plainly ſhewed they had exchanged Faculties with each other.

Then the Court was adjourn'd till the Firſt of April next, which falling on Eaſter-Day will be kept the Monday following.

When this laſt Sentence was brought to me for my Confirmation, I very readily approved of it; and though I was aware that the Term of Huskanawing being a Word unknown in any of the Courts of Weſtminſter, it might ſeem an Hardſhip upon a People jealous of their Rights and Liberties, to impoſe a new Sort of Puniſh⯑ment upon what has hitherto been ſcarce ac⯑counted a Crime: Nevertheleſs, out of the Plenitude of my Power, and of my own meer Motion and certain Science, I do ratify and confirm the ſaid Sentence. But as I ſhall ne⯑ver [130] extend the Prerogative of Cenſor of Great Britain to any unreaſonable Bounds, nor uſe it at all, but for the Good of the People; ſo for the Quieting of their Minds from any Doubts which might ariſe concerning this new Word, I have thought it convenient to explain to them what it means.

It is a Cuſtom amongſt the Weſt-Indians that border upon Virginia, for the Prieſts of the Country to elect a certain Number of the hope⯑fuleſt young Men, and of the beſt Families, to make the Operation of Huskanawing upon. When they have gather'd together Thirty or Forty of 'em they retire with them into the moſt inacceſſible Parts of the Woods, where they build a large Stove, in which they ſweat the young Men. They keep 'em to a very ſtrange Diet, and their Drink is an odd Com⯑poſition of Indian Corn, and Juices of poiſo⯑nous Herbs, which has ſuch an Effect upon them, that they loſe their Hair, their Nails, their Skins, and half of them their Lives, be⯑fore the Proceſs be half over. They that have Strength enough to hold out till Thirty Days, are brought Home in great Triumph, and theſe are looked on as the Top Patriots of that Coun⯑try. This ſeems to me to be a very wiſe Inſti⯑tution, and fit to be introduced in my own Country; for the Sweatings, Diet, Drugs and Drink which they have been uſed to, quite re⯑novate the Men, ſo that they come out without any Remembrance of their Parents, Country, Loves, Language, or even of their own Names. Theſe are their Heroes, theſe their Counſellors, theſe their Ambaſſadors, theſe have the Ma⯑nagement of all their Publick Affairs, and are maintained at the Publick Charge. I muſt not omit, that 'tis almoſt impoſſible they ſhould, after this Operation, retain any Regard for [131] their former Studies, or in the leaſt deſire to return to them: If they ſhould, they durſt not own it, for Fear of being taken and Re⯑huskanaw'd.

A Writer who has the World under his Di⯑rection, cannot better employ his Intereſt and Authority, than in cultivating a good Cor⯑reſpondence between Men, and endeavouring to make them agreeable to each other. Not⯑withſtanding the Pains I have taken this Way. I have Reaſon, from an Accident I met with, to believe I have not yet throughly effected ſo great and neceſſary a Work. Walking the Streets this Morning, I met a Gentleman of my Acquaintance who has the Honour to ſerve his Country in a very uſeful Capacity. Oh Mr. Bi [...] ⯑kerſtaff, ſays he, you are luckily met; I w [...] your Advice upon a very extraordinary Occaſion. You may command me, anſwered I, to the beſt of my Underſtanding; but 'tis a Rule with me, nei⯑ther to talk nor look wiſely in the Street. Pleaſe [132] only to walk into the next Coffee-houſe—By no Means, Sir, replied he, ſtarting back [...] don't you know that ſome of the rankeſt—in Great Britain come thither?—Not I in good Truth, Sir; but if they do, I ſuppoſe there may be Room for us—Ay marry, (ſays he) and ſo there may be in the Dens at the Tower; for my Part I would as ſoon venture into one as the other. I immediately laughed out in his Face; upon which he turned away in great Indignation, and left me to reflect on ſo extra⯑ordinary a Behaviour.

I went on, and having a Curioſity to ſee theſe ſtrange Creatures my Friend had ſpoke of, called in at the Place before-mentioned. I was indeed ſurprized at my Entrance to ob⯑ſerve the Eyes of the whole Herd turned upon me, a full Stop put to their Converſation, and their Diſhes for ſome Time ſuſpended in Mid-Air at a little Diſtance from their Lips. Turn⯑ing to the Gentleman at the Bar, I asked in a ſoft Tone for a Diſh of Tea. There is none made, ſaid he, in a very ſurly Man⯑ner—Pray then will you help me to a Diſh of your Coffee?—You muſt ſtay till it is ſettled, re⯑plied he, if you will have any—I did ſo, and called for the Tatler—A pert Boy looked in my Face, and told me, They did not take it in ſince it had left off laſhing the Party; I might have the Review, Obſervator, or the Spectator, if I pleaſed—In the mean Time the grave People round the Fire had a [...]ittle recovered their Confuſion, and by their [...]hiſpering to each other, and then ſtaring at me, gave me to underſtand that I was looked upon as a Spy, or at leaſt an In⯑truder into ſelect Company. One of them, more bold than the reſt, ſeemed prepared to ſpeak to me, and collected himſelf in a reſo⯑lute [133] Poſture in order to it; but his Courage [...]iling, he ſunk down into his Chair again, [...]d ſuffered me to paſs unmoleſted to a Seat [...]ext the Chimney. A ſurly-looking Fellow, who ſeemed to be one of thoſe who do not care a Farthing for any Body, ſate oppoſite to me, and fixing his Eyes ſtedfaſtly upon me, threw out Three or Four of his main Principles in a Breath, expecting, as I ſuppo⯑ſed, either my Diſlike or Approbation of them. A young Gentleman next him, who, I obſerved, filled his Pipe, and reached the Tobacco-Tongs for him, aſſented with a Smile to what he ſaid, and could not but wonder, that any Perſon ſhould be ſo propoſterous as to think otherwiſe, or ſo inſipid as to conceal his Thoughts if he did.

The Calmneſs and invincible Silence with which I received all this Raillery, had like to have brought me into ſome Peril; for in leſs than a Quarter of an Hour the whole Fire-ſide was up in a Paſſion: Upon which I roſe deli⯑berately from my Chair, laid a Couple of Pence without Noiſe upon the Bar, and ſtole out in the ſame State of Neutrality that I came in. I take it for granted, if I had fol⯑lowed my Friend to a Coffee-houſe of his chu⯑ſing, I ſhould have met with the ſame Treat⯑ment, only ſoftened a little perhaps by the lucky Circumſtance of being introduced by one of the ſame Society.

A Humour ſo abſurd needs not any Anim⯑adverſions. Follies of this Stamp are too glaring in their own Nature to ſuffer any Sa⯑tyr or Illuſtration upon them; to which, with ſome Alteration, may be applied thoſe excel⯑lent Lines:

In like Manner the Embelliſhments of Ridi⯑cule are thrown away in Caſes where a plain Narration does more effectually ſerve the Ends propoſed by it.

I muſt not omit mentioning a good whim⯑fical Buſineſs that I accidentally met with in this Adventure. The Boy of the Coffee-houſe having put one or two of his politick Papers into my Hand, the Title of the Spectator, which I had never before ſeen or heard of, in⯑duced me to read it over in ſuch a curſory Manner as that Kind of Writing requires. To⯑wards the End of the Paper, I found a Letter ſubſcribed C— L—. After peruſing it, I could not without Tears in my Eyes con⯑ſider the deplorable Condition of this poor Man. The Caſe of Ned Prattin, Saleſman, and that of this unfortunate Perfumer, bear ſome Reſemblance; and I have but too much Reaſon to fear will both terminate in the wretch⯑ed Circumſtances of Straw and a dark Room. Whether it be owing to the great Quantities of Snuff he has taken, or to Pride of Heart from the Encouragement I formerly gave him, it is certain that the latter has not for ſome Time been right in his Mind. His unaccount⯑able Uſage of me when I went laſt into the Country, was the firſt Sally of his Diſtemper, [135] which is now broke out into manifeſt Phrenzy. However unwilling I am to expoſe him in ſo publick a Manner, I muſt hereby warn all Perſons whatſoever concerned about him not to truſt a Penknife in his Hands, nor any In⯑ſtrument wherewith he may do himſelf or o⯑thers a Miſchief; that his Maid do every Night take off his Garters, and remove them far out of his Reach; that he be not permitted to drink out of a Glaſs, leſt he ſhould eat it; nor to feed on Fiſh, (although it be Lent) leſt he ſhould induſtriouſly choak himſelf with the Bones.

I would by no Means be miſunderſtood, as if what I here ſay were meant as any Reflection on Mr. Buckley's Paper. Any Gentleman in his Way may inſert ſuch Letters as come firſt to Hand, and I verily believe That I ſpeak of to be Charles's own Writing. Only I cannot help cautioning Mr. Buckley againſt ſuffering his Correſpondents to direct any of their Ad⯑vices to the ſaid Mr. Lillie; for who knows but in his mad Fit he may ſet up a Daily Paper up⯑on that Foot, and, by giving it out in his Bills that he ſells Three Thouſand a Day, come into as much Reputation as the Spectator him⯑ſelf? For my own Part, as I obſerve ſome little Glimmering of a Genius in that Writer, I ſhall be very willing to encourage him in his Studies. For the preſent, let him make Uſe of the following Motto's, as he ſhall find Occaſion, and I will hereafter take Care that he ſhall want for nothing that is fit for him.

THE Humour of Duelling having lately very much obtained about Town, I have taken more than ordinary Pains to put a Stop to it. To this End, I have been obliged to ap⯑pear frequently at moſt of the Gaming-houſes, both the Theatres, and at Punch's Opera. At the latter of theſe Entertainments, notwith⯑ſtanding my Preſence, there happened one Evening ſome Advances towards a Quarrel, when Punch, with great Reſolution of Body, coming forwards upon the Stage, ask'd the Gentlemen, If they were not aſhamed to commit ſuch Diſorders before himſelf and the Cenſor of Great Britain; For which Inſtance of Reſpect, I ſhall ever honour and eſteem that incompa⯑rable Player. At the Requeſt of my good [138] Friend Mrs. Man, I ſit here now and then fo [...] Two or Three Hours together to keep th [...] Peace, and ſhall continue to do ſo till the Offi⯑cers are gone over; the Value of whoſe Lives I underſtand much better than they do them⯑ſelves, and therefore am reſolved to preſerve them, though I ſhould incur their Diſpleaſure by doing it, for the Service of their Queen and Country, and the common Intereſt of Europe. Spending ſo much of my Time at this Place, I ſhall be obliged now and then to date my Paper from hence, and my Correſpondents may, if they pleaſe, for a Week or Ten Days direct their Letters hither.

That which follows has lain in my Hands ſome Time, though, for the great Candor and good Nature expreſs'd in it, I ought to have taken Notice of it much ſooner.

My beſt Way of anſwering this Letter, is to inſert Part of the Poem mentioned therein, more of which ſhall hereafter be publiſh'd in this Paper.

MY other Correſpondents will excuſe me, if I give the Precedency to a Lady, whoſe Letter, amongſt many more, is juſt come to Hand.

It is natural for a Man who receives a Fa⯑vour of this Kind from an unknown Fair, to frame immediately ſome Idea of her Perſon which being ſuited to the Opinion we have of our own Merit, is commonly as beautiful and perfect as the moſt laviſh Imagination can fur⯑niſh out. Strongly poſſeſſed with theſe No⯑tions, I have read over Sylvia's Billet; and not⯑withſtanding the Reſerve I have had upon this Matter, am reſolved to go a much greater Length than I yet ever did in making my ſelf known to the World, and in particular to my charming Correſpondent. In order to it I muſt premiſe, That the Perſon produced as mine in the Play-houſe laſt Winter did in no wiſe ap⯑pertain to me. It was ſuch a one however as agreed well with the Impreſſion my Wri⯑tings had made, and ſerved the Purpoſe I in⯑tended it for; which was to continue the Awe and Reverence due to the Character I was veſt⯑ed with, and at the ſame Time to let my Ene⯑mies ſee how much I was the Delight and Fa⯑vourite of this Town. This innocent Impoſture, which I have all along taken Care to carry on as it then was of ſome Uſe, has ſince been of ſingular Service to me, and by being mentioned in one of my Papers, effectually recovered my Egoiety out of the Hands of ſome Gentlemen who endeavoured to wreſt it from me. This is ſaying, in ſhort, what I am not: What I am, and have been for many Years, is next to be explained. Here it will not be improper to re⯑mind Sylvia, that there was formerly ſuch a [145] [...]loſopher as Pythagoras, who, amongſt other [...]ctrines, taught the Tranſmigration of Souls, [...]ich, if ſhe ſincerely believes, ſhe will not [...] much ſtartled at the following Relation:

I will not trouble her, nor my other Rea⯑ [...]rs, with the Particulars of all the Lives I [...]ve ſucceſſively paſſed through ſince my firſt [...]trance into mortal Being, which is now ma⯑ [...] Centuries ago. It is enough that I have in [...]ery one of them oppoſed my ſelf with the ut⯑ [...]ſt Reſolution to the Follies and Vices of the [...]veral Ages I have been acquainted with, that [...]ave often rallied the World into good Man⯑ [...]s, and kept the greateſt Princes in Awe of [...]y Satyr. There is one Circumſtance which I [...]all not omit, though it may ſeem to reflect on [...]y Character, I mean that infinite Love of [...]hange which has ever appeared in the Diſpo⯑ [...]d of my Exiſtence. Since the Days of the [...]mperor Trajan I have not been confined to the [...]me Perſon for Twenty Years together; but [...]ve paſſed from one Abode to another much [...]icker than the Pythagorean Syſtem generally [...]lows. By this Means I have ſeldom had a [...]dy to my ſelf, but have lodged up and down [...]herever I found a Genius ſuitable to my own. [...] this Manner I continued, ſome Time with [...]e Top Wit of France, at another with That of [...]aly, who had a Statue erected to his Memory [...] Rome. Towards the End of the 17th Cen⯑ [...]ry I ſet out for England; but the Gentleman [...] came over in dying as ſoon as he got to [...]ore, I was obliged to look out again for a [...]ew Habitation. It was not long before I met [...]ith one to my Mind, for having mix'd my ſelf [...]viſibly with the Literati of this Kingdom, I [...]und it was unanimouſly agreed amongſt [...]em, That no Body was indowed with greater [...]alents than Hiere [...]s; or, conſequently, would [146] be better pleaſed with my Company. I ſlip [...] down his Throat one Night as he was fa [...] aſleep, and the next Morning, as ſoon as [...] awak'd, he fell to writing a Treatiſe that w [...] received with great Applauſe, tho' he had t [...] Modeſty not to ſet his Name to that nor to an [...] other of our Productions. Some Time aft [...] he publiſh'd a Paper of Predictions, whic [...] were tranſlated into ſeveral Languages, an [...] alarmed ſome of the greateſt Princes in Europ [...] To theſe he prefixed the Name of Iſaac Bic⯑kerſtaff Eſq which I have been extremely fon [...] of ever ſince, and have taken Care that mo [...] of the Writings I have been concerned [...] ſhould be diſtinguiſhed by it; though I mu [...] obſerve, that there have been many Counte [...] ⯑feits impoſed upon the Publick by this Mean [...] This extraordinary Man being called out of t [...] Kingdom by Affairs of his own, I reſolve [...] however to continue ſomewhat longer in [...] Country where my Works had been ſo we [...] received, and accordingly beſtowed my ſe [...] with Hilario. His natural Wit, his lively Tu [...] of Humour, and great Penetration into h [...] ⯑mane Nature, eaſily determined me to th [...] Choice, the Effects of which were ſoon afte [...] produced in this Paper, called, The Tatler. [...] know not how it happened, but in leſs tha [...] Two Years Time Hilario grew weary of m [...] Company, and gave me Warning to be gon [...] In the Height of my Reſentment I caſt m [...] Eyes on a young Fellow, of no extraordina [...] Qualifications, whom for that very Reaſon [...] had the more Pride in taking under my D [...] ⯑rection, and enabling him by ſome Means [...] other to carry on the Work I was before e [...] ⯑gaged in. Leſt he ſhould grow too vain upo [...] this Encouragement, I to this Day keep hi [...] under due Mortification. I ſeldom reſide wi [...] [147] [...]m when any of his Friends are at Leiſure to [...]ceive me, by whoſe Hands however he is du⯑ [...] ſupplied. As I have paſſed through many [...]cenes of Life, and a long Series of Years, I [...]ooſe to be conſidered in the Character of an [...]d Fellow, and take Care that thoſe under my [...]fluence ſhould ſpeak conſonantly to it. This [...]ccount, I preſume, will give no ſmall Conſo⯑ [...]tion to Sylvia, who may reſt aſſured, That [...]aac Bickerſtaff is to be ſeen in more Forms [...]an ſhe dream'd of; out of which Variety ſhe [...]ay chooſe what is moſt agreeable to her Fan⯑ [...]y. On Tueſdays, he is ſometimes a black pro⯑ [...]er young Gentleman, with a Mole on his left Cheek. On Thurſdays, a decent well looking Man, of a middle Stature, long flaxen Hair, [...]nd a florid Complexion. On Saturdays, he is ſomewhat of the ſhorteſt, and may be known from others of that Size by Talking in a low Voice, and paſſing through the Streets without much Precipitation.

TO be ſenſibly touched with the Diſtreſ [...] and Misfortunes of other Men, is ſuch [...] Weakneſs, if it be one, as I would not pa [...] with to be Author of all the Refinements th [...] Mr. Rochefaucaut has made upon it. Inſtead [...] ſtifling this tender Diſpoſition of the Mind, [...] have ever cheriſhed it in my ſelf, and cann [...] forgive the Want of it in any one elſe. Ph [...] ⯑ſicians and others, whoſe conſtant Buſineſs li [...] amongſt the Infirmities or Diſaſters of huma [...] Nature, ſeem to have the beſt Plea for th [...] Deficiency in this Point; a long Courſe [...] Practice in that Way naturally wearing out [...] Impreſſions that at firſt ariſe from it. Hipp [...] ⯑crates however, as he is the greateſt Man [...] his Profeſſion, excels no leſs in Humanity, a [...] an inſuperable Compaſſion for the Pains a [...] Miſery of his Patients. This I admire him f [...] as well as for many other good Qualities. E [...] ⯑pir [...] who has little Employment, and l [...] Underſtanding, gives himſelf an Air of Negl [...] and Diſrega [...]d for the ſevereſt Tortures tha [...] D [...]temper and his own Miſmanagement o [...] [149] [...]an inflict. He ſpeaks of a Man in his laſt [...]oments, as of one that was going to take the [...]r in Hide-Park, and talks over the Convul⯑ [...]ons of a fine Woman with more Indifference [...]an he would mention her laſt Appearance in [...]e Boxes; for which, and being an Atheiſt, [...]e expects the Applauſe of the Company. This Affectation of Inhumanity is no leſs ſhocking when applied to other Circumſtances of Life; and yet I am well ſatisfied, that ſome Perſons are at more Pains to make themſelves Maſters of it, than others to arrive at the higheſt Pitch of Virtue, Generoſity, and good Nature. It were otherwiſe impoſſible that an eaſy Fortune, a happy Conſtitution, and in ſhort all the Ad⯑vantages of Life, ſhould ſtrip Men of thoſe Qualities, which, at the ſame Time that they were highly beneficial to the reſt of Mankind, would reflect the trueſt Honour; and the moſt exalted Satisfaction on themſelves. Amongſt the many Refinements upon Pleaſure which this polite Age has produced, it is a Wonder to me that ſo few have hit upon that of Relieving the Poor. This may ſound very harſh in the Ears of a fine Gentleman, but moſt certain it is, that the leaſt Reflection would furniſh him with the ſame Obſervation. Were it poſſible for ſuch a one to enter into all the diſinai Cir⯑cumſtances of Want, Poverty and D [...]reſs, and to conſider how far it may be in his Power to remove them, he would be content perhaps to part with ſome of his preſent Enjoyments, or rather, to [...]xchange them for thoſe of a more exquiſite Nature.

The immediate Occaſion of my ſpeaking on this Subject, is a Family that I happened [...]pon in my Walks about Two Days [...] Pa [...]g through an Alley in the City, I [...] the [...]ry of ſome little Children, which was ſo v [...] y [150] loud and importunate, that I could not forb [...] looking in at the Houſe where it was. [...] biggeſt of them immediately running to [...] Door, fell upon her Knees, and intreated [...] God's Sake that I would give her ſomething [...] keep her Mother from Starving: Upon whi [...] I ſtep'd in, and found, that this poor Wom [...] was the Parent of Seven Children, who [...] ſtood about her, and as many of them as w [...] capable of any Impreſſion, ſeemed more ſol [...] ⯑citous for her Relief than their own; tho' ev [...] ⯑ry one of them appear'd faint with Hung [...] and ready to drop upon the Spot. The Fath [...] it ſeems, was very lately dead, and the Expe [...] ⯑ces of his Sickneſs and Funeral had ſtrip'd the [...] poor Creatures of the few Neceſſaries he h [...] left behind him. I have ſince recommend [...] their Caſe to a Lady of Quality, whoſe extr [...] ⯑ordinary Goodneſs makes her eſteem an Offi [...] of that Kind the greateſt Obligation that c [...] be laid upon her. Diſtreſſes of the ſame So [...] are more frequent than is generally believe [...] In order to redreſs which, I muſt firſt of a [...] apply my ſelf to the Fair Sex, and beg the [...] for that Purpoſe, to retrench many of their u [...] ⯑neceſſary Expences, which I ſhall otherwiſe [...] obliged to expoſe in a very publick Manner.

So bright an Example will not fail to infl [...] ⯑ence the reſt of the World, and when th [...] great Work is in any Meaſure effected, th [...] Thanks of many Thouſands ſhall be ſolemnl [...] returned them by the Hands of Iſaac Bicke [...] ⯑ſtaff Eſq

IT is certainly very unreaſonable that a Man, becauſe he has ſome Wit, ſhould ſet up for having more than all the reſt of the World. Be⯑ſides the Folly of ſuch a Preſumption, there is an Inconvenience which naturally attends it: When one Man ſeems to grow into a great Eſtate in Fame from Nothing, other People are apt to enquire into his Title. The diſcerning Part of Mankind will be allowed upon ſuch an Occaſion to take from him what is not his Due without the Imputation of Detraction. Let Hilario be pleaſant, and let ſome of his Friends have Wit; But does it naturally follow from thence that he is a Philoſopher? And that it is the Effect of Envy not to allow him all thoſe Excellencies he and they think he has?

Envy is a Vice of ſuch a deteſtable and per⯑nicious Nature, that I would have it not only [154] rooted out of our Breaſts in Speculation, b [...] (which would be much more for the real Goo [...] of Society) I could wiſh, that our Behaviou [...] one towards another might be actually and en⯑tirely freed from thoſe Ma [...]ks of it which a [...] every Day too viſible. For my ſelf, I can ſafe⯑ly ſay I am contented with that Condition Pro⯑vidence has placed me in: My own little For⯑tune is ſufficient for my Neceſſities, my Friend [...] are as many as ſupply all my Converſations [...] and that ſmall Portion of Fame I have got, wil [...] give me as much Diſtinction in my Life-time [...] and as much Reputation with Poſterity, as I deſire. For this Reaſon I was never an Enemy to any Man's growing into the good Opinion of the World. I could with all the Indifference of an Idle Spectator ſit ſtill, and ſee my own old Wit every Day put to new Uſes by other People. One dumb Man retails my judicial Aſtrology in Drury-lane; and another of the ſame Sort, who owns he lives ſomewhere or other, new vamps my caſt Lucubrations, and cries my old Morals about the Street every Day in the Week. This is what ſome People may think a pretty fai [...] Way of turning the Penny; let it be ſo, I allow it them. But when honeſt Dumb forgets his Name and his Nature ſo far as to ſet up for a Dictator, when he aſſumes the Magiſtrate, and preſcribes Laws ſo Manners; in ſhort, wh n he arrogates to himſelf the Authority of Cenſor of Great Britain, I think it Time to aſ⯑ſert my ſelf, and put a Stop to Encroachments of ſuch a Nature. For this Reaſon I think fit to admoniſh that Pe ſon, whoever he may be, not to interfere with my Juriſdiction, unleſs he can prove himſelf to be me, an Enterprize of ſo vain and ridiculous a Nature, that I hope I need not go about to convince my Readers of [155] the Folly it would be to attempt it. From my firſt Conſiderations upon Envy, I am naturally led to reflect upon ſome little ill Offices which have been lately done me. My Maid, who takes the Privilege of an old Servant to talk to me in an Evening while ſhe is warming my Cap, ſetting my Slippers, and turning down my Bed; as ſhe was in her uſual Employment laſt Night, I believe, Sir, (ſaid ſhe) I ſhould make your Worſhip laugh if I ſhould tell you a comical Thing that happened to me t'other Day. As our Neighbour's Maid and I were ſtanding at the Door together laſt Sunday in the Afternoon, there comes by a young Wo⯑man; I thought to my ſelf I ſhould know her—So ſhe comes up to me—Laud! ſays I, Mrs. Ann! I profeſs I did not know you—And who ſhould this be but the Wi⯑dow Gentlewoman's Daughter that lived at the next Door to where we lived before—How do you do Mrs. Mary? ſays ſhe. Very well, ſays I, Mrs. Ann, How do you? And how does your Maſter do, ſays ſhe—Very well, ſays!—Laud! ſays ſhe, we heard at our End of the Town how an as if he ſhould have given over his Buſineſs—Laud! ſays I to her again, Who ſhould tell you ſo? Nay, ſays ſhe, 'twas one told me ſo; whereupon thought I to my ſelf, ſays ſhe, if it be ſo, and if Mr. Bic⯑kerſtaff ſhould leave off his Buſineſs, and go in⯑to the Country, why, perhaps, Mrs. Mary may be to ſeek for a Place; and ſo truly I was re⯑ſolved to come and ſee whether 'twere ſo or no—Thank you for your Love, ſaid I, Mrs. Ann, my Maſter is a good Maſter to me, and I don't think of parting with him yet—Well, ſays ſhe, as brisk as could be up again to me, if your Maſter be a good Maſter, a better [156] will do you no Harm: You'd find another gueſs Sort of a Man if you were to live with our Gentleman—Pray, ſays I, and who is your Gentleman? Laud! ſays ſhe, how ſtrange you make it! As if you did not know our Gentleman that lodges at my Mother's—Well but, ſays I, has your Gentleman no Name? No matter for that, ſays ſhe, that argues nei⯑ther here nor there; but if you have a Mind to have your Wages raiſed, I can tell you ſome⯑thing more of the Matter—Ay, thought I to my ſelf, is that your Buſineſs! ſo, Sir, I was reſolved to take no Notice—So (ſays the to me) but Mrs. Mary, What makes you like to live ſo with an old Man? I am ſure, if your Place had been ſo good a Place as you talk of, Mr. Lillie would have hardly come away from your Maſter—Mr. Lillie, ſaid I! Laud help your Head, as if my Maſter could not do without Mr. Lillie; Mr. Lillie is no Rule for me, my Maſter was but too kind to him; and if I had a Mind to have ſerved Mr. Lillie a dirty Trick—My Maſter knows him well enough, and if he had not gone away as he did, my Maſter had turned him away the Thurſday after—Nay Mrs. Mary, ſays ſhe, if you are in a Paſſion, (and indeed I was as red as the Fire) good Night to you. Good Night to you, ſays I, and clap'd the Door after me.

Tho' I was tired with the Wench's Story, I could not help being pleaſed with this uncom⯑mon Mark of her Fidelity: And at the ſame Time it was with ſome Indignation that I re⯑flected upon the little mean Arts that were made Uſe of to entice away my Servant. I could hardly have believed another Inſtance of be ſame Nature, if I had not been aſſured by [157] [...]e whole Neighbourhood, that they had ob⯑ [...]rved Two famous known Dogſtealers watch⯑ [...]g about my Door for ſeveral Days together. [...]rom all theſe Things put together, I can't but [...]magine, that the Perſon who has a Mind to [...]ome into my Place before I am willing to go [...]ut of it, thinks he cannot abſolutely qualify [...]imſelf for it unleſs he robs me of my Do⯑meſticks. To endeavour at being witty and moral is a laudable Deſign, and the better Part of the World will always approve and encou⯑rage it: But if a Man can't be witty without Mr. Lillie, nor moral without ſtealing my Dog, I believe he had better be contented with a common Portion of Fame, and ſubmit to be thought neither wiſer nor better than his Neigh⯑bours.

IT is in my Opinion no ſmall Reflection on the Theatrical Entertainments of this Town, that the intermiſſion of them ſhould be looked upon as a Kind of negative Preparation to Du⯑ties of the laſt Importance. This amounts to a tacit Acknowledgment that they are, in ge⯑neral, calculated for our Diverſion, without Re⯑gard to our Improvement; that they amuſe on⯑ly and unbend the Minds of an Audience, in⯑ſtead of filling them with great and noble I⯑dea's; and ſerve rather to ſink the Dignity of humane Nature, than to raiſe in us any juſt Sentiments about it. Were it otherwiſe, the Stage would have good Reaſon to remonſtrate againſt ſo peculiar a Mark of Infamy, as that of being denied to the World at the Approach of any Religious Solemnity, and forced by that Means to confeſs an irreconcilable Enmity be⯑tween the Pleaſures of the one, and the Obli⯑gations of the other. Notwithſtanding all this, I confeſs, for my own Part, that I receive ma⯑ny Advantages from going to the Play-houſe ſometimes. There is, beſides the Play it ſelf, [159] ſomething in the Circumſtances of ſuch an Aſ⯑ſembly, that gives me a new Turn of Think⯑ing, and furniſhes me with Obſervations out of the common Road. I have a Pleaſure more than I ever obſerved in any one elſe on that Occaſion, in ſeeing ſo great a Variety of Faces, as well beautiful as others, and in tracing their ſeveral Tempers, Humours and Opinions in their Looks, Air and Behaviour. To ſit Three Hours in a Crowd, is in my Opinion a ſevere Trial of a Man's Underſtanding, and from his Deportment there I can generally form a Judg⯑ment on his whole Life and Converſation. Amongſt others, I have ever avoided making an Acquaintance with any Perſon of either Sex who talked loud, or laboured by any Means to be diſtinguiſhed from the reſt of the Audience. My Friend Sam Truſty exceeds me in Penetra⯑tion. He and I commonly ſit together, and be⯑tween the Acts entertain our ſelves with read⯑ing over as many People as lie within our Kens. He enters not only into their Diſpoſitions, but the minuteſt Circumſtances of their Fortunes, can caſt up their Monthly Accounts, knows how their Rooms are furniſhed, what they eat and drink; and in ſhort, is at firſt Sight of their Perſons let into the Secrets of their re⯑ſpective Families. In taking a Survey of the Front Boxes, we are from thence furniſhed with many ſerious Speculations, whilſt the more youthful Part of the Company are enter⯑taining themſelves on the ſame Subject after a very different Manner. We examine coolly and without Danger the Symmetry and Pro⯑portion of a fine Face; and from the Bloom of a Complexion, are led perhaps into Reflections upon Light and Colours. We were engaged in a Converſation of this Sort ſome Evenings ago at the Opera, when Sam Truſty breaking [160] abruptly, ‘"Well, Iſaac, (ſaid he) I could find in my Heart to weep, as Xerxes did, over this Multitude of Mortals: You and I re⯑member when the Houſe in Dorſet-Garden was throng'd with Women as beautiful as thoſe we now behold here. I remember when Clariſſa lean'd upon her Hand, and looked with the ſame Indifference on her Train of Admirers as Bellaria does at this In⯑ſtant. Where, Iſaac, where is now that de⯑ſirable Perſon, thoſe Eyes, that Neck? Car⯑ry but your Imagination to the Vault where ſhe lies, and from thence inſtruct thoſe love⯑ly Creatures before you, how much of their Beauty will be tranſmitted to the next Gene⯑ration.'’

The following Letter, which is juſt come to Hand, diverts me at preſent from further pur⯑ſuing the Intention of this Paper. The Writer of it may, perhaps, pleaſe himſelf with his Raillery. I do aſſure him, it has given me no other Uneaſineſs than what I have from a Senſe and Commiſeration of his Folly; and to ſhew I am in perfect Charity with him, ſhall make immediate Uſe of his Preſent.

I Cannot better ſhew the Concern I have for the Belles Letters, than in making ſuch a Proviſion for thoſe who are turned that Way as may beſt conduce to their Proficiency in it. The different Seaſons of the Year are proper for different Sorts of Performances, which I don't remember any of my Fellow-Labourers in Aſtrology to have obſerved in their Yearly Almanacks. This indeed is a very groſs Omiſ⯑ſion; and I queſtion not, if Mr. Partridge were alive, but he would readily embrace the Hint, and hereafter improve upon it. Suppoſe, for Inſtance, in a Work of this Kind one were to write Obſervations on April.

Subjoining afterwards:‘This Month alſo lay the Plots of Plays, and de⯑ſign the Models of Heroick Poems. Set and ſow the Seeds of all Kind of Poetry, reſtore the Liber⯑ty of the laborious Muſe by opening her Common-Place Book. Cut out Work for the Bookſellers. Let extravagant Poets look before them, and be⯑gin to think of Bargaining for their Copies.’

What follows from my Brother Rider is very good.‘The Uſe of Phyſick becomes now ſeaſonable, and alſo Purging and Phlebotomy. Abſtain from Ve⯑nery; many Diſeaſes will be taken thereby, to the undoing of many. In Caſes of Extremity, pray to God for a Remedy.’

And I think the Regimen would have been perfectly adapted to Writers of Poetry, if he had added that ancient Aphoriſm,

I ſhall not purſue this Thought through all the Months in this Paper but reſerve that to my next Almanack. A preſent it will not be amiſs to range the ſeveral Speci [...] of po⯑lite [165] Writers under their proper Quarters of the Year.

Thoſe concerned in Paſtorals I have elſewhere conſider'd. To proceed therefore: As ſoon as the glorious Planet Sol peeps through the Horns of the Celeſtial Ram, Matrimony then coming in Seaſon, I would adviſe the leſſer Sort of Po⯑ets to get their Epithalamiums ready. The Diverſions of New-market likewiſe approach⯑ing, let thoſe who can write neither Verſe nor Rhime ſcrub up their Rindaricks. The Haber⯑daſhers of Songs and Sonnets will do well to frequent Lambeth, Iſlington, and Richmond-Wells, and be prepared to celebrate any Phillis that ſhould have the good or ill Fortune to be over-turned in the Park on a Sunday Night. Being informed that the Town is diſappointed of an excellent Comedy by an ingenious Tra⯑der's employing his Stock another Way, I be⯑lieve I may put the Succeſs of the reſt of the Comick Writers into Eaſter Term without crowding them.

For the Summer Quarter, any one who has unfaſhionable Wares lying dead upon his Hands, as tawdry Panegyricks, or faded Sa⯑tyrs, which neither pleaſe the preſent, nor hurt the paſt Miniſtry, is adviſed to ſeek out ſome Plantation or Colony of civil Indians, where perhaps they may barter them for Ale, Rum, and Tobacco; and if they ſhould fail there, to proceed on a trading Voyage to the Bath, where, by altering the Names, without chang⯑ing the Subſtance, their Goods will become Lampoons, and undergo a Fate reverſe to that of Aſa Foetida, which ſets out a Perfume from Surat, and arrives a Stink at London. In one Place it is eat for Sawce, and in the other cures Hyſterick Fits. For my ſelf, and others [166] who ſtudy in a great Meaſure for the A [...] ⯑ment of Mankind,

to be a little negligent at this Time; for [...] would be Impudence to pretend to put th [...] in good Humour that are left in Town, an [...] we muſt be down-right ſtupid to put th [...] out of Humour who are rioting in Peach [...] Figs, and Melons in the Country, and who, [...] prognoſticate, will every Day be revived wi [...] ſome good News or other from Abroad.

In September the Streets ring with Oyſte [...] and Elegies. Some old Men will certainly [...] and ſome young Men may perhaps ceaſe [...] live. In either Caſe the Heir will ſucceed [...] the Eſtate at Quarter-Day, which is worth the Poet's Conſideration. Since by the Inclemency of our Climate, the Britiſh Vintage uſually ſuc⯑ceeds this Month, the Dithyrambick Poets may not improperly celebrate the Manufacture of that Juice, which, as Mr. Dryden has it, makes the Britons bold, and congratulate the Return of Patriots to their Cares and Watchings for the good of their Country.

As I was meditating in this Way, I fell into a Sort of Enthuſiaſm: I ſeemed to behold a Chariot, that had painted upon the Doors of it a Snake with the Tail in its Mouth, which being the Hieroglyphick of the Year, as well as the Enſign of the Divinity of Phy⯑ſick, I was at a Loſs what to make of it. Till obſerving it was corteged by broken Prin⯑ters and Apothecaries, I enquired who the Perſon was I ſaw fitting in the Chariot, and what he could be writing. I was anſwered, That it was the Genius of Heroick Poetry, a [167] [...]r of the Firſt Magnitude in that Science, [...]ich generally roſe towards the Winter Sol⯑ [...]ice. I went up to him, methoughts, and ſaid, O thou Antimonarchical Praiſer of Princes and Heroes! Shall their Glories never be ſuf⯑fered to paſs uncommended by thee? When wilt thou learn how unequal to this Task even the beſt are in the moſt abſtracted Re⯑tirement? The Jolts and Rumblings of thy Chariot muſt needs affect any Verſes, and make them unfit to expreſs the Smoothneſs and Steadineſs of this Hero's Conduct and Succeſſes.

I recovered this Delirium as the Bell-man went about with an annual Sort of Poetry, which I had like to have forgot, though I have for many Years with Joy obſerved it to be a Fore-runner of Mince-Pies and Plum-Por⯑ridge.

THE Deſire of Superiority is very natural or at leaſt, through the Weakneſs of hu⯑mane Nature, has univerſally obtained in the World. This Diſpoſition, in Perſons of a pub⯑lick Capacity, produces it ſelf in an Affectation of Tyranny and arbitrary Power. In private Converſation the Effects of it are equally diſa⯑greeable, tho' leſs extenſive, and ſerve to give one a Taſte of Slavery in Caſes of a higher Concern. A Man who has taken this Ambi⯑tion in his Head, ſets up for a Kind of Dictator amongſt his neareſt Acquaintance, and will ſuf⯑fer them to give into no other Sentiments or In⯑clinations than what are entirely conſonant with his own.

It is worth obſerving, that every Set of Com⯑pany does naturally, and without deſigning it, fall into a Form of Monarchical Government, and pay ſuch a Deference to one amongſt them as ſe ves to keep the reſt in good Order. The Abuſe of this Power is indeed very frequent, but without ſome ſuch Regulation many great Inconveniencies would follow. The Diverſions [169] [...]f the Evening would be often at a Stand for Want of a proper Leader: Weighty Diſputes [...]ould have no End, or perhaps a very bad one, [...]f there were no deciſive Judge to determine [...]hem. In a Word, a Preſident would be miſ⯑ [...]ng on the moſt important Occaſions: And in [...]ome Years the laudable Practice of Toaſting would be forgotten, or very aukwardly carried on. The Buſineſs of Precedency is of ſo great Conſequence, that the Ladies themſelves have not thought it unworthy of their Conſideration. Many of them, I dare ſay, have kept them⯑ſelves waking for the Peace of Society on this Subject. At Balls, Aſſemblies, and in Viſits, what Confuſion would unavoidably ariſe if this Point were not maturely and properly adjuſt⯑ed? Every Body knows the famous Caſe of Lady Formal, how ſhe whirl'd out of the Room in a Paſſion, went Home and burned a [...]ew laced Head, not to ſay any Thing of the Correction ſhe beſtowed on her Domeſticks, as [...]er Husband, her Woman, and her Lap-dog, [...]or no other Reaſon, but becauſe Lady Betty [...]rt was placed in a Chair above her.

It is with great Satisfaction I conſider the [...]ains that are taken to ſettle the ſame Point in [...]ll Orders of Men amongſt us, from thoſe who wear Shoulder-Knots, to the Maſters who im⯑ [...]oſe that Diſtinction of Servitude and Depen⯑ [...]ance. I am credibly informed, that the Foot⯑ [...]en about this Town are very exact in Matters [...]f Punctilio, that the Generality of them have [...]r this Purpoſe made a good Proficiency in [...]eraldry, and can perfectly blazon the ſeveral Coats of Arms they belong to. Tippling Jack [...]as never known to commit an Indecorum in [...] Cellar, or at the Door of a Chocolate-houſe. [...] former of which he always drinks firſt [...] the Perſon next himſelf in Dignity, and at [170] the other, never offered, in the moſt rai [...] Night, to take a Coach or Chair from his Be [...] ⯑ters. Idle Tom was not without great Difficu [...] ⯑ty prevailed on to appear for Speaker in the [...] Mock Parliament againſt roaring George, Cand [...] ⯑date for the ſame, and having loſt it by a [...] Majority, behaved himſelf with the utmo [...] Decency under that Misfortune. In the Pai [...] ⯑ed Chamber Things are carried yet high [...] The common Diſorders of Gaming are effect [...] ⯑ally provided againſt, and no Quarrel ſuffer [...] to come to any Height without the Approb [...] ⯑tion of the firſt Lacquey of Quality that preſid [...] at the long Table. The Uſe of Swearing i [...] i [...] ⯑deed promiſcuouſly allowed there, which [...] know not how to account for. I am my ſ [...] an Eye and Ear Witneſs of the proper Diſti [...] ⯑ction which is obſerved amongſt ſuch as [...] their ſeveral Sorts of Merchandize about [...] Streets of this City. The ancient Woman w [...] repeats Brickduſt Nine and twenty Times in [...] Breath, conſtantly gives the Wall to anoth [...] that in a Muſical Voice recommends Jeruſal [...] Artichokes. The Fellow that fings Perfumes a [...] Waſhballs, keeps a due Diſtance from the T [...] ⯑ders in Oranges and Lemons; and the Haw [...] ⯑ers of Daily Courants and Spectators pull [...] their Hats, or drop a Courteſy, to thoſe co [...] ⯑cerned in the Tatlers.

I remember two facetious Gentlemen of [...] Acquaintance, who had employed their Tale [...] in different Kinds of Writing, were engaged [...] be of a Party: The one, as a Writer of Co [...] ⯑dy, declin'd the upper End of the Table; a [...] the other, having been very ſucceſsful in T [...] ⯑gedy, was adjudged to have a Right to [...] This Determination was thought highly eq [...] ⯑table, and has ever ſince been carefully comp [...] ⯑ed with. Whether it be taken from this H [...] [171] [...] ſome other, the Players themſelves, I under⯑ [...]nd, have thought it adviſable to proceed af⯑ [...]r much the ſame Manner. A Hero, by the [...]les of the Houſe, goes out of a Room before [...] fine Gentleman; as Alexander the Great [...]ight reaſonably be ſuppoſed to take Place of [...]r Harry Wildair, or Julius Caeſar of Dorimant. [...]oſe who have acted in a double Capacity, [...]ink two Glaſſes in a Hand, or help them⯑ [...]lves twice to whatever Diſh they like beſt. A [...]eoman of the Guard is in all Points conſidered [...]efore a Valet de Chambre, and an Elbow-Chair [...]es Place of a Joint-Stool. Amongſt the Fe⯑ [...]les of the Stage there is no leſs Order pre⯑ [...]rved; Ophelia, in Conſideration of her vari⯑ [...]us Abilities, has a proportionable Allowance [...]f Ceremony, or whatever elſe ſhe likes beſt. [...] Prue takes the Liberty of giving her ſelf [...]cy Airs to all that approach her; and when [...]e comes to be an Empreſs, may expect to [...]ave her Privileges encreaſed.

THE Letter which immediately follows, I make publick for my own Sake; that which concludes this Paper, for the Entertain⯑ment of others.

HAving, as I formerly obſerved, paſſed through an infinite Variety of Scenes in humane Life, I cannot better employ the Re⯑flections I have made upon them, than by in⯑ſtructing thoſe in the Paths they ought to pur⯑ſue whoſe Youth and Unexperience would o⯑therwiſe betray them into a Thouſand Mi⯑ſtakes. Of all others I have a tender Regard for ſuch as apply themſelves to thoſe Arts and Sciences which gave me ſome Reputation in the Days of the Emperor Trajan. I was eſteem⯑ed the greateſt Wit of that Age; but, by a [179] Miſapplication of my Parts and Learning, came to an ignoble End. This is a reigning Misfortune amongſt the Genius's of the preſent Age, but has indeed prevailed much more in ſome foregoing Reigns. It is with the utmoſt Indignation that I ſee many great Capacities proſtituted to the moſt unworthy Purpoſes, and the World in a Manner corrupted and de⯑bauched by Perſons whoſe Talents ſeem in⯑tended for the Ornament and Reformation of it. Next to the Want of Morality, I bewail the Narrowneſs of Fortune which too often preſſes Men of a liberal Education, and which perhaps is one Step towards leading them into the former. A young Fellow who is uneaſy in his Circumſtances, is naturally betrayed into thoſe Follies which recommend him to Compa⯑ny, and give him Hopes of making an Ac⯑quaintance that may one Time or other turn to his Advantage. With this View he gives into many Fooleries that he ſecretly deſpiſes, and at laſt is harden'd into Vices which he former⯑ly abhorred. The Students of both Univerſi⯑ties are on this Account in a peculiar Manner the Objects of my Care and Concern. As of⯑ten as I ſee a new Face about Town, that pro⯑miſes much good Underſtanding, and a lively Imagination, I conclude it came up by the laſt Coach from Oxford or Cambridge. I am im⯑mediately upon the Rack to conſider the many Difficulties ſuch a one muſt encounter, the At⯑tendance he muſt pay to inſolent Greatneſs, the frequent Shocks he will receive from the Promotion of inferior Merit, from the Diſſimu⯑lation of ſome, and the Envy of others; and at laſt, from the mean Reward he is likely to meet with for a long Courſe of Slavery and Dependance.

[180] The following Letter has partly ſuggeſted to me this Way of Thinking, which ſeems to be written rather in Confidence than with a Deſign to have it publiſhed, but that the Poſt⯑ſcript does more fully explain the Intention of it.

This Caſe ſhall be taken into Conſideration, and the Cenſor's Opinion delivered upon the ſame.

IN taking a Survey of Mankind, one cannot but obſerve an univerſal Purſuit of what they call Pleaſure, and at the ſame Time the groſſeſt Miſtakes about the Notion of it. Not to enter into more Particulars, let it ſuffice, that in the Catalogue of Things conducing to this End, Friendſhip is generally omitted, and either not at all conſidered, or elſe exploded and laughed out of Countenance. The Truth is, our Vanity ſeems to have got the better of our Reaſon, and chooſe rather to appear happy than be ſo. Hence it is, that inſtead of cultivating an Intimacy with a few, we make a ſuperficial Acquaintance with all that offer, and are more deſirous of being ſeen by a Multi⯑tude, than rightly known and underſtood by any. The Want of Virtue is at the Bottom of all this: Having no true Principles of Honour, Generoſity, or good Nature, we naturally a⯑void being too ſtrictly enquired into, and there⯑fore are cautious that thoſe about us ſhould not take any Freedom beyond what a mixed [184] Kind of Converſation will allow. It is ſuf [...] ⯑cient that a Set of unthinking young Fello [...] can meet over a Bottle, and make a Shift [...] paſs the Time with trifling and indifferent T [...] ⯑picks, without ever entertaining the leaſt m [...] ⯑tual Regard, or examining into the Merits [...] one another. It will be difficult to perſwad [...] ſuch Men that they have not yet taſted one [...] the moſt exquiſite Enjoyments that the Soul [...] capable of, or that they have it in their Powe [...] to open to themſelves a more delightful Wa [...] of Living than they have hitherto been ac⯑quainted with. Talking the other Day with [...] very young Gentleman on this Subject, I could not help asking him, ‘"Whether, amongſt the many Affairs he had made with the Ladies, he had never yet happened to have one of an honourable Nature upon his Hands?"’ He frankly confeſſed he had; and upon being fur⯑ther preſſed, ‘"That he found more Satisfaction in the Purſuit of That, than from all the Succeſſes he ever met with in thoſe of ano⯑ther Kind."’ ‘"Believe me then (ſaid I) there is no leſs Difference between the idle Amuſement of a common Acquaintance, and the refined Endearments of an intimate Friendſhip."’ I inſiſted the more on this Point with a Perſon who was as yet in a great Meaſure a Stranger to the World, becauſe it is very certain, that the ſooner this Notion is re⯑ceived, the more advantageous it proves, and is a Means of preventing many Miſcarriages in our Behaviour. For my own Part, amongſt a Thouſand other Obligations which I owe to my Parents, I muſt particularly acknowledge that of inſtilling an early Benevolence to Man⯑kind in general, and a Deſire of fixing my ſelf in the Affections of one or more who ſhould appear beſt qualified for ſo near an Alliance. [185] Sam Truſty, whom I have often mentioned in theſe Papers, was almoſt my firſt Choice, and has preſerved me from many Errors which Youth and Indiſcretion would otherwiſe have led me into. I am infinitely obliged to my Couſin Humphry Wagſtaff on the ſame Account, as well as for the great Aſſiſtance he has given me in the Proſecution of this Work. My Con⯑verſation with each of theſe Gentlemen is a Kind of elegant Retirement from the World, as it furniſhes me with the juſteſt Remarks upon the ſeveral Occurrences in it. Our Sen⯑timents are communicated without Reſerve, inſomuch that our ordinary Diſcourſe is by the latter ſtiled Thinking aloud. In this happy Situation of Life we ſtand leſs expoſed than others commonly are, either to the Strokes of Fortune, the Ill-nature of our Enemies, or any Calamity that can befal us. In the mean Time all our Enjoyments, by being ſhared amongſt us, are heightened and improved in Propor⯑tion to the Pleaſure that every Individual re⯑ceives from them.

In order to make Mankind happy in the Reliſh of ſo refined a Commerce with each other, I could wiſh our preſent Writers of Plays, inſtead of filling their Works of that Sort with the Buſineſs of Love, would ſome⯑times diverſify them with the Diſtreſs of Friends, their Heroick Behaviour under it, with all the beautiful Incidents that Hiſtory can furniſh, or a warm and noble Imagina⯑tion ſuggeſt upon that Model. I am ſenſible how great a Genius is required to this Task; but whenever the Prudence of our Superiors ſhall think fit to deliver the Stage from the State of Slavery and Miſmanagement it now labours under, I ſhall not deſpair of ſeeing [186] this and many other excellent Deſigns happil [...] put in Execution.

An humble Retainer to the Theatre havin [...] made the following Application to me, I t [...] this Occaſion of making it publick, and of a [...] ⯑ſuring the Perſon concerned, as well as others who may hereafter fall into the ſame Misfor⯑tune, that neither the corrupt Dealing o [...] Charles Lillie, tho' a Lunatick, nor the Inſo⯑lence of thoſe who ſupport him in it, ſha [...] paſs unnoted, or unpuniſhed, by the Rightfu [...] Lawful, and Undoubted Cenſor of the Unite [...] Kingdom of Great Britain.

I Know not how it happens, whether through a Miſrepreſentation from my Enemies, or a Miſunderſtanding in ſome of my Readers, an Opinion has lately obtained; that I allow no Body to have any Share of Wit or Humour but my ſelf; that I induſtriouſly ſuppreſs the Attempts of others in that Way, and will not ſo much as ſuffer a young Writer to thrive un⯑der my Shade. Theſe and a Thouſand Calum⯑nies of the ſame Nature have by ſome Means or other, though with the utmoſt Injuſtice, [188] been ſpread amongſt Perſons well affected [...] my Intereſts, who have thought themſelv [...] obliged, by Letters and other Ways, to gi [...] me repeated Notice of ſuch unhandſome Pr [...] ⯑ceedings. If I can promiſe any Thing for [...] ⯑ſelf, it is, that I have no greater Ambition tha [...] to improve, cultivate and encourage a promi⯑ſing Genius wherever I meet with it, and no [...] only to refine the Morals of Mankind, but t [...] make even their Studies and Productions mo [...] entertaining and agreeable to one another. I muſt confeſs indeed, that ever ſince my fir [...] entring upon the Cenſorſhip, I have been very tender of ſuffering any Incroachments to be made upon the Dignity of that Office. I have now and then ſhewn the Error of thoſe who offered to invade a Province ſo peculiarly my own, and by a ſeaſonable Rebuke put a Stop to many growing Inconveniencies. At a Time when we are engaged in a juſt and neceſſary War Abroad, of what fatal Conſequence might it have proved to make a new Diviſion at Home? Which muſt unavoidably have riſen, had I ſuffered any further Competition for ſo great an Employment. A Man muſt have lit⯑tle Regard for the Intereſt of Europe, who can be tempted by any Conſideration to embroil his Country in Quarrels and Diſputes at ſo critical a Juncture. What I have ſaid there⯑fore in any of my Papers upon this Occaſion, will by all Perſons of Candor and Diſcern⯑ment be conſidered rather as an Inſtance of my Care for the Publick, than of any View to my own Authority and Advantage. If others have been unhappily provoked by it to make raſh and indiſcreet Reflections upon me, I am hear⯑tily ſorry for their Misfortune, and wiſh that their Paſſion had not made them incapable of receiving Advice from their trueſt Friend, up⯑on [189] that Subject. I ſhall only ſay at preſent, [...]t as it is evident they have imbarked in a [...]ong Bottom, they will do well to give off as [...]on as poſſible; for, next to the Honour of a [...]cceſsful Engagement, is that of a handſome [...]treat.

To vindicate my ſelf yet further from t [...] [...]putation I before mentioned, as I have late⯑ [...] aſſigned the proper Seaſons of the Year for [...]erent Kinds of Writers, I ſhall hereafter [...] ſomething more material for the Encou⯑ [...]gement of their Labours. In an Age where⯑ [...] the Generoſity of Great Men extends even [...] Opera's and Puppet-Shows, I cannot but [...]lieve they will be eaſily perſwaded to en⯑ [...]urage ſuch Entertainments as tend to the [...]egulation of Manners, and the Improvement [...]f our Underſtandings. For this Purpoſe I [...]ave already formed a Scheme, wherein pro⯑ [...]er Prizes are allotted for ſeveral Sorts of [...]erformances, thoſe of the Drama being firſt [...]nſidered, and the reſt in proper Order. The [...]rticulars ſhall be communicated to thoſe [...]ho are profeſſed Patrons of polite Learning, [...]ithout Regard to Party, and becauſe their [...]umber is but ſmall, their Subſcriptions muſt [...]eceſſarily be the larger. I do not deſpair of [...]eing my ſelf a Contributor, having deter⯑ [...]ined to aſſign a conſiderable Part of the [...]rofits ariſing from my own Lucubrations to⯑ [...]ards ſo uſeful a Project. I muſt premiſe [...] general, That no Comedy will be admit⯑ [...]d without a Moral, nor any Tragedy that [...]rns wholly upon Love, as likewiſe that [...]rces are wholly excluded. In Epick Poems, [...]e fewer Machines the better: Heathen Gods [...] Goddeſſes will not be ſuffered; nor any [...]igned Names to introduce either the paſt or [...]eſent Miniſtry. If a Peace ſhould intervene, [190] nothing on that Topick ſhall be received t [...] was written before the Preliminaries w [...] ſigned.

That the Beauties of each Performance [...] be clearly diſcerned, and their Blemiſhes [...] ⯑covered, I ſhall in the mean Time take O [...] ⯑ſion to print a Treatiſe ſeparate from my [...] ⯑ther Papers, formed upon the beſt Rules [...] Antiquity, and the approved Sentiments of [...] preſent Age, entituled, Mr. Bickerſtaff's Sp [...] ⯑cles; by the Aſſiſtance of which, the Jud [...] on this Affair ſhall be enabled to diſting [...] rightly upon Thoughts, Diction, Turn, [...] ⯑cule, Style, Spirit, Natural, Sublime, [...] and all the other Circumſtances of Wri [...] which I have mentioned elſewhere, that [...] come before them. This Manual, (for it [...] not exceed that Compaſs) I will order to [...] left at White's Chocolate-houſe Gratis, tog [...] ⯑ther with a Spelling-Book for the Help [...] Learners. At Will's it will be taken in [...] Courſe, and may from thence, perhaps, re⯑ceive many proper Additions and Amend⯑ments.

I ſhall conclude with acquainting my Rea⯑ders, that although I do not pretend to in⯑groſs to my ſelf all the Wit, Humour, and Learning in this Kingdom, yet I ſhall by no Means ſuffer any other Perſon to ſet up for an ultimate Judge in Matters of that Nature Mr. Lillie eſcapes very well that a Statute [...] Lunacy is not yet taken out againſt him; and others, his Abettors, that one of Idiocy has not yet been occaſioned by their idle and unreaſon⯑able Proceedings.

HAving received lately ſeveral Letters from my Female Correſpondents, I ſhall com⯑municate ſome of the moſt important of them to the Publick in the Order I received them.

The Caſe of Belinda is in my Opinion very deplorable, and would, if fully conſidered, give Occaſion to many uſeful Reflections. At preſent I ſhall only obſerve upon it, that the Blemiſh ſhe has received in her own Character is by no Means a Step towards a Power and Juriſdiction over the Conduct of others. I am not unwilling to admit ſome of the Fair Sex into the Employment ſhe ſollicits for, having in general a great Opinion of their Capacities, as well as of their earneſt Deſire to reform the Manners of thoſe about them. It may not however be amiſs to give the Electors in this Point a ſhort Abſtract of the Qualifications re⯑quiſite to a Female Cenſor, leſt any Miſtakes ſhould happen upon ſo weighty an Affair: As firſt, That ſhe is indeed with an habitual Si⯑lence; Secondly, That ſhe has a known Ha⯑tred to Scandal and Detraction; Thirdly, That ſhe neither pays nor receives any impertinent Viſits; Fourthly, That ſhe is a conſtant Rea⯑der of the Tatler; And Fifthly and Laſtly, That ſhe has, beſides other Books, a huge [...] of Receipts.

The following Billet is of no leſs Conſe⯑quence than the former.

Ordered, That Mr. Jervoiſe be fined a Half-Length of the Cenſor, done after the ſame Manner as is mentioned in the above-written Complains, and that he be in Readineſs to re⯑ceive him on Wedneſday next, between the Hours of Nine and Ten in the Morning.

Ordered, That Mr. Dighton and Mr. Twining do enquire, whether the Kicks and Blows given were by Neats or Calves Leather, Jambees or Dragons; after which Mr. Bickerſtaff will pro⯑ceed accordingly.

ONE great Deſign of this Paper is to re⯑concile Men to their ſeveral Stations in Life, and to remove that Uneaſineſs which commonly ariſes from the ſuppoſed Advantages of thoſe about them. Unleſs this be in ſome Meaſure effected, it is in vain to expect any great Succeſs from Precepts of another Kind; a Perſon who is out of Humour being as in⯑capable of receiving Advice as beſtowing it on others. The Stake chiefly contended for is Power, and this, if I miſtake not, is more equally divided than we commonly imagine. The executive Part of it ſeems indeed to be pretty much engroſs'd by Men of great For⯑tunes and large Poſſeſſions. They, 'tis true, carry about them all the Diſtinctions of Gran⯑deur and Superiority, they are attended by Maces, adorned with Ribands, and crowded by a numerous Train of Dependants. In the [198] mean Time it muſt be no ſmall Satisfaction for a Man who is inclined to envy them ſuch pom⯑pous Appearances, to make a ſtrict Enquiry in⯑to ſome other Circumſtances which are not al⯑together ſo much expoſed to the publick View. He will by this Means diſcover that theſe great Machines are informed, turned and directed by the moſt minute Springs and Movements; that in many Inſtances, a menial Servant has the Management of their higheſt Concerns, and diſpoſes of their Actions as he in his great Wiſdom ſhall judge moſt convenient for them.

As my Couſin Humphrey and my ſelf were taking a Walk in the Park the other Day, a Perſon of Note paſſed by us with an Air of Inſo⯑lence and Contempt, attended by a very mag⯑nificent Equipage. He, with his uſual Free⯑dom, taking me aſide, deſired me to obſerve that fine Thing, and to give my Opinion of him. Obſerving me a little reſerved upon the Matter, ‘"Iſaac (ſays he) with ſome Indigna⯑tion, You are the greateſt Coward in the World: Had I put the ſame Queſtion to you upon Fifty others of Five hundred Times the Worth of inferior Rank, you would have made no Scruple of ſpeaking your Sentiments. I will tell you then; That Gentleman you ſee there, is one Way or other in Subjection to every one of thoſe Fellows that dangle after him. I happen (continued he) to be well ac⯑quainted in his Family, in which there is a Chain of Intereſts carried on after the fol⯑lowing Manner: The Steward, who is an old Servant, and has cheated his Maſter Time out of Mind, has the entire Government of him. The Houſekeeper has a Hank, as they call it, over the Steward, and makes ſin⯑gular Uſe of him in all impertinent Affairs. [199] The Page has no leſs Intereſt in the Houſe⯑keeper, at the ſame Time that he is himſelf in Love with the Chambermaid. Roſe, for that is her Name, profeſſes a Paſſion for T [...] the Footman, who is deeply ſmitten with dirty Moll the Kitchen Wench. The latter of theſe has in Concluſion a great Sway in what⯑ever Caſes ſhe thinks fit to exert her Inte⯑reſt, which, if ſhe were made ſenſible of it, would undoubtedly afford her no ſmall Com⯑fort under the conſtant Hurry and Fatigue of her painful Occupation.'’

Having but little Knowledge of great Fami⯑lies, I was not before aware that this Scheme of Government was received amongſt them; but in the Compaſs of my own Acquaintance I have ſeldom ſeen it otherwiſe. Old Major Matchlock, I remember, was a very bluſtering Fellow over a Bottle, and withal made a good terrible Figure at the Head of a Company; but within his own Doors he behaved himſelf with great Puſillanimity, and paid the utmoſt Subjection to an ancient Maid, whom in leſs than Forty Years he had raiſed from raking in a Heap of Cinders, to the Superintendancy over all his domeſtick Affairs. I am not in my own Nature much addicted to Fear, yet I can⯑not but confeſs that I ſtand in Awe of my old Servant Mary. She happens to be of a mild Diſpoſition, which makes her Authority fit the more eaſy upon me; but if it were otherwiſe, I do not preſume that I ſhould have Courage enough to make Head againſt her. As ſhe has few other Favourites or Companions than my Dog and tabby Cat, there is no Danger of her leading me into any Abſurdities on their Behalf.

[200] I am very much obliged to the Perſon who ſends me the following Letter, and ſhall com⯑ply with the Inſtances made therein to the ut⯑moſt of my Power.

Laſt Night Captain, Powel came Expreſs from the Lord Raby, with an Account, That the Emperor died on the 17th, N. S. of the Small-Pox. On the 16th he was in ſo fair a Way of Recovery, that they judged him to be out of Danger; whereupon Prince Eugene ſet out for the Hague, and was got two Days Journey on this Side of Vienna, before the News, which was diſpatched the next Day, could overtake him.

THere is nothing more ſhocking to a gene⯑rous Mind, than to ſee his Labours ren⯑dered vain and fruitleſs. I once flattered my ſelf with the happy Effects of my Cenſorſhip, and thought the Influence of Iſaac Bickerſtaff had ſo generally obtain'd through the United Kingdoms of Great Britain, that there was no⯑thing remaining but the Fruits and Glory of the Conqueſt. But ſuch is the Misfortune of a publick Character! I have no ſooner routed and diſarmed the Enemy in one Quarter of my Dominions, expoſed the Vice and Folly of Mankind in one Particular, but I find my ſelf engaged in a freſh Diſpute; as if my Authori⯑ty was not ſo univerſally received as I imagin'd, as if the People of this Iſland thought me only de Facto, and not de Jure, Cenſor. By my Age and Experience I have hitherto put a Stop to the growing Evil: But there is a Race of Creatures ſprung up (by their Frame and Com⯑plexion reſembling Men) which are as far above my Underſtanding, as they are real Objects of my Concern. It grieves me to ſee the Bull, [203] the Bear, the Lion, ſtalking in a humane Form. I am in Pain to find ſomething ſo like my ſelf ſending forth nothing but Brutal Ac⯑cents, as if all Joy and Grief conſiſted in the Quantity of Sound, and there was no Way to expreſs the Dictates and Sentiments of Nature but by being tumultuous. Theſe Men, if I may be allowed to call them ſo, ſeem weary of being at the Fag-End of the Rational Species, and think they ſhall make tolerable good Fi⯑gures under another Character. I will refer the Examination of this Particular to another Paper, and inſert the Letter which gave Occa⯑ſion to the Reflection.

I AM oblig'd to viſit my old Friend Hortenſius every April, when his Auricula's are in Bloſ⯑ſom. He tells me, he ſhould be as much diſ⯑appointed if his Friends did not come and ſee him while his Garden is in its Pride, as a fine Lady would be on her Day, if no Body came to admire how well ſhe was lighted up.

I went down on Monday laſt to his Houſe. It was almoſt dark when I arrived, and I found my Friend watering his Pots with his own Hand, and covering the choiceſt of them with Glaſſes, leſt the Inclemency of one Froſty Night, in ſo uncertain a Climate as ours is, ſhould ſhorten the Duration of a Pleaſure which is but too Tranſitory even in its longeſt Continuance. He bid me welcome to his Her⯑mitage, and conducted me with Aude, Hoſpes, contemnere Opes, to an elegant little Supper, a good Part of which was the Product of his Garden. After the Cloth was taken away, ‘'Mr. Bickerſtaff, ſaid he, I fancy you look with a good deal of Contempt upon our Country Amuſements: Is it not very odd to find me doing the ſame Thing to Night, that [207] I did Forty Years ago? Not at all, replied I, I don't think Individuals either grow better or worſe after One and Twenty; and I am no more ſurprized to find you diverted with an agree⯑able innocent Employment Forty Years toge⯑ther, than I ſhould be Forty Years hence (if it were poſſible I could live ſo long) to find thoſe who are now young Fops to be grown old ones, or thoſe that are young Knaves to be grown more experienc'd: For ſince People don't grow weary of their Faults, I ſee no Reaſon why they ſhould grow weary of their Pleaſures, at leaſt of ſuch Pleaſures as don't grow weary of them. Ah! dear Iſaac, ſaid my Friend, there's the Point, to find out ſome Entertainment that will not find out that we grow old, and ſuch a one I believe I have made Choice of. By that Means I converſe daily with the g [...]wdieſt Part of the Creation; for ſince there is no Body here to tell it again to the Toaſts, I muſt own to you, that I think Nature has been no where ſo la⯑viſh of her Beauties, as amongſt the Birds and Flowers. Harmonious Voices, ſweet Breaths, fine Complexions, blooming Youth, and then for Conſtancy, (one of my poor Turtles is dying of a Widowhood) Where will you match me theſe in the reſt of the World? You durſt not talk at that Rate, re⯑ply'd I, nor I hear you, but at the Age of Se⯑venty, though it is natural for every one to give as much Dignity as he can to whatever he is fond of. Dignity! interrupted Horten⯑ſius a little warmly, we want no Dignity, or at leaſt we need not ſtrain a Point for it. Pray, Friend Iſaac, when Man was made lit⯑tle lower than the Angels, what was he? A Prince, a General, or a Great Miniſter? Nei⯑ther. He was a Gardiner. Pray what is it [208] that diſtinguiſhes Man from Beaſts? Why all Philoſophers ſay, Reaſon. Philoſophers are Puppies; if Man were diſtinguiſhed from the reſt of the Creation by Reaſon, would he not be diſtinguiſh'd by the nobleſt Operation of Reaſon; the cultivating a virtuous Mind? But how is that? Ask any of theſe Philoſo⯑phers for Examples of Cruelty, Luſt, of Avarice, of Diſobedience to Parents, of Ra⯑pine, of Ambition, of Treachery, of Cow⯑ardice, of any Vice they ſhall bring you Inſtances of all theſe from Kings, Queens, Generals, Popes, and even Philoſophers them⯑ſelves: But talk to them of Fidelity, they quote you the Dog; of Piety to Parents, the Stork; of Induſtry, the Ant and the Bee; of Meekneſs, the Lamb; of Courage, the Lion; and of Conſtancy, there my poor Turtle comes in again. Oh! Reaſon is a dainty Thing; I love that noble Diſtinction mightily: 'Tis almoſt as good as Riſibility. Hold, dear Hortenſius, ſaid I, pray let us be diſtinguiſhed ſome Way or other, or let us go naked as they do, and ſave Taylors Bills; or rather let us get Hair and Feathers on our Skins, for I doubt I ſhould not like to walk about pull'd neither."’ He ſmiled upon me, and went on, ‘"I deſign to diſtinguiſh for you too: The true Diſtinction between Man and Beaſt, and which ſoli Homini convenit is Gar⯑dening. Homo eſt Animal Horticolum: Upon that Condition you may differ from Beaſts as much as you pleaſe, and be as diſtinct a Spe⯑cies as you can. But if you deſign to take the Advantage of this Propoſal, you muſt be⯑gin by going to Bed early, that we may be up to Morrow to enjoy the Sweets of the Mor⯑ning, and therefore I'll wait on you to your Chamber."’ The next Morning was ſo like [209] one in a Romance, that if it would not make this Paper too long, I could be content to de⯑ſcribe it: About Seven a Clock my Friend came into my Chamber, and told me I was going to be very Happy as ſoon as I had drank my Cho⯑colate, for every Thing conſpired to make our Walk ſo pleaſant, that, what with the Perfume of the Flowers, and the Harmony of the Birds, he queſtioned whether I would regret either the Smoak or the Noiſes of London. There were Two Parterres on either Side of the Houſe, which were ſeparated by a neat Eſpa⯑lier from the reſt of the Garden. Theſe were deſtined for the Reception of the Flowers of Quality, ſuch as Auricula's, Tulips, Anemonies, Ranunculus's, and Carnations, who lived here removed from the Commerce of the People of Flowers which inhabit the Remainder of this vegetable Kingdom. My Friend was pleaſed to ſee me ſurprized with the Beauties of his Benches of Auricula's. He made me take par⯑ticular Notice of Number I. which he told me was honoured with the Name of a Great Prin⯑ceſs, and the reſt of the Confederacy ſtood in their proper Places after her. The next Series my Friend enlarged more upon, finding I be⯑gun to taſt the Entertainment, and made me remark a Flower which was a little overblown; but he told me it had been wonderfully fine in its Time, and whiſpered me in the Ear the La⯑dy's Name it went by: ‘"And what I value it for exceedingly, ſaid he, is, That I have rai⯑ſed thoſe Four Seedlings which ſtand next her from this Flower. There was a Fifth, but I could not preſerve it: If we had not ſuch Loſſes, we ſhould be too happy."’ In ſhort, he went on with above Fifty fine Ladies one after another, and I believe would never have given off if I had not interrupted him, [210] by asking him how his Flowers came to be all of a Party, and ſaying that I did not think to have ſeen that Matter carried ſo far. ‘"Why, ſaid he, I don't know how that comes about, but we endeavour to fit our Flowers to our Faces and Characters, and this is done in a Manner by Election: But no Body need be without their Flower, for the Daffodil and Piony Kind ſtand empty for any Ladies that pleaſe to take them; and as any new ones come out a⯑mongſt our better Flowers, if they will ſtand Candidates for them, I ſhall be very im⯑partial. But we can't do ſo well by the Ge⯑nerals; they muſt have a Campagne in their Bellies, and can't be provided for till next Spring, and then they'll ſtand as fair as o⯑thers."’ We took our Walk on through the reſt of the Garden, at the lower End of which there was a little Trout Stream, with Benches by the Side of it. Here we ſate down, and Hortenſius asked me if I was not tired with ſuch a ſauntering Country Life. I aſſured him no, and wiſhed I had it in my Power to invite him to ſuch another Place. ‘"Why really my Friend, ſaid he, I paſſed a good Part of my Time in what the World calls Purſuit of Plea⯑ſure and Honour, and have found at laſt, that all thoſe Things are nothing more than what I have in this little Brook,’ Noiſe and Motion.'

I WENT Two or Three Nights ago to Brown's Coffee-houſe to ſmoak a Pipe, and talk of the Affairs of Germany, with my old Friend Mr. Solomon Million. As we were diſ⯑courſing of Funds and Politicks, I obſerved a tall genteel Man come in, who made a very re⯑ſpectful Bow to Million, and ſtood at a Diſtance, but looked as if he had ſomething to ſay to him. I made him take Notice of it. He tweer'd at him a little, and ſaid, ‘"Friend, would you ſpeak with me? Fray what's your Buſineſs?"’ He approached and whiſpered him, and then Million cry'd, ‘"Why ay, and ſo I did; but we could not carry it for you: And ſo look'ee you muſt be contented. You loſt it in good Company, that I muſt needs ſay; but it is not always'—’Here he coughed, and I, who had not recollected the Gentleman till then, perceived it was Don Diego. He had a Paper in his Hand, which he delivered Million, who looking upon it, ſhook his Head, and ſaid, ‘"This is not in our Way; [212] but my worthy Friend Muſter Bickerſtaff ( [...] may be allowed to name him on this Occa⯑ſion) may do you a Kindneſs, if ſo be he'll recommend it to the World, which I hope he will for my Sake."’ The Paper was as follows.

Though I am far from taking this for a per⯑fect Scheme, yet I think it does not deſerve to be rejected at the firſt Reading; for perhaps ſomething may be added in a Committee to make it of great Uſe.

I do therefore refer it to a Committee of the whole Town, who are to examine the Allega⯑tions, and report their Opinion; for I cannot but think that if ſomething of this Kind could be done, it would be of univerſal Advantage, and might go a great Way towards extinguiſh⯑ing thoſe Heats and Animoſities which are amongſt us, and put an affectual Stop to thoſe wicked Emiſſaries that are continually buſied in ſtirring up Jealouſies and evil Reports among Her Majeſty's loving Subjects.

ONE great Inducement to me in removing to this End of the Town, was for the Benefit of the Air in St. James's Park, where I uſually take one Turn in the Morning, and [...] it be any Thing like Weather, another as ſoon as my Pipe is done after Dinner. In my Walk the other Day I met with ſo odd an Adventure, that I can't help being particular in the Relation of it; eſpecially ſince, in Regard to Poſterity, it may ſerve to clear up one of the moſt impor⯑tant Paſſages of my Life. Juſt by the Cock-Pit, at the Privy-Garden Door, there ſtep'd up gently to me an ancientiſh Woman, in a little black Hood, a Whisk Band, and a Crape Gown, and in a ſoft low Voice calls to me, "Sir. I could never think it Charity to relieve your Street-Beggars: What little I do in that Kind, is chiefly to Charity-Schools, and decayed Houſe⯑keepers. So on I walk'd, and ſhe after me. ‘'But, Sir, ſays ſhe again with a reſpectful Whiſper, I am a Gentlewoman. Gentle or Simple, ſaid I, that's nothing to me; Prithee, [217] Woman, be gone about thy Buſineſs: This is not a Place for you."’ When ſhe had got me to anſwer her, ſhe proceeds, ‘"Sir, you look like a Gentleman; and my Caſe is really ſuch, that if you knew but Half—I don't de⯑ſire to know a Quarter,"’ ſaid I. But the Wo⯑man was ſo very civil, and withal ſo very im⯑portunate, that I could not help turning about to her; and with that ſhe pulls Two or Three dirty torn Papers out of her Stays, and offers them me to read. ‘"Pray Miſtreſs, ſaid I, what is it you would have of me? This is not a Place to read Papers in: But my Name is ſo, I live in ſuch a Place, and if you think it worth your while to come to me when I have more Leiſure, I'll hear what you have to ſay.'’ I obſerved ſhe changed Colour upon hearing my Name, and coming up cloſer to me, told me, ‘"Nothing but the greateſt Neceſſity could have brought her to this: Her Education, it was well known, had been above any ſuch Thing, till the Frowns of Fortune had redu⯑ced her to this Condition. Why it is a ſtrange Thing, ſaid I, Miſtreſs, that you won't take an Anſwer. I tell you again that I have not for you, and let that ſuffice. Ah! dear Sir, ſaid ſhe, there was a Time when one of your Name would have given me a kinder Anſwer."’ This brought a Thouſand confu⯑ſed Imaginations into my Head, and I felt ſomething awakening within me that I could not account for. I ſtole a Look over my Shoul⯑der, and ſaw her wiping a Pair of Eyes, that I thought I ſhould not be a Stranger to, with a greaſy Glove, and the Lappet of her Hood. ‘'I have no ſmall Money about me, ſaid I, but I'm juſt at Home, and made what Haſte I could to my Houſe."’ As I was going into my Parlour, I heard my Maid diſputing the Door [218] with her. ‘"Mary, ſaid I, let the Gentlewo⯑man come in."’ As ſoon as we were alone, [...] fix'd my Eye upon her, and ask'd her, ‘"Pray what may your Name be? Ah! Mr. Bicker⯑ſtaff, ſhe replied, Is it poſſible you ſhould have forgot me? But indeed the Troubles I have gone thro' ſince you and I danced toge⯑ther at the Mayor's Feaſt at Litchfield, would have altered a better Face than I could ever pretend to. Whatever Changes Time and Trouble may have made in you, ſaid I, I'm ſure it has not made ſo much in me, but that I am mightily concerned to know what has happened to you, ſince I am now aſſured you can be no other than Mrs. Olivia Darkin, for whom once I paſs'd ſo many uneaſy Mi⯑nutes. Well, Mr. Bickerſtaff, I muſt own—But pray ſit down, ſaid I—And Mary, D'ye hear? Bring me a Pint of that Sack in the Corner, and bake a Toaſt. Well, pray go on. Why truly, Sir, as I was ſaying, I did perceive you had a Kindneſs for me; but alas! What could you expect of a giddy⯑headed young Thing as I was in thoſe Days? For you muſt know, Sir, that Mr. Mac-Carrot, that you ſaw at our Houſe, had engaged my Affections before I came from the Boarding-School; but I am ſure I have lived to repent it every Vein of my Heart that ever I croſs'd the Seas with him. In ſhort, Sir, we were no ſooner married, but he carried me over with him to the County of Kerry, where he had Relations who were well enough to paſs, and what with their Aſſiſtance, and that little we had of our own, we made a pretty good Shift for ſome Years, 'till the War breaking out in Ireland, my Husband was too zealous for the Popiſh Intereſt, and entered into the Service of the late K— J—s. I told him [219] over and over what would come of it. He gave me no Anſwer, but that it was his Opi⯑nion, and he would ſtand and fall by it; and Child, ſaid he, you are a Fool if you don't turn Catholick. Never talk on it, ſaid I, I'll die a Thouſand Deaths before I'll change my Religion, and ſo he never preſs'd me any more about it. But as I had foretold, ſo it happened, he was killed at the Siege of Li⯑merick, and our Houſe plundered; I may ſafely ſay they did not leave me the Value of this Rag to wind about my Finger."’ And [...]en ſhe burſt out a Crying. ‘"Ha! ſaid I, this is a melancholy Story indeed; come, here's to you, I'll promiſe you 'tis a Glaſs of good Sack: But pray did his Relations do nothing for you? Relations! Ah Lord! ſaid ſhe, they were his Relations, not mine; and when he went, all went with him: You muſt think, Sir, I went to 'em, but they looked as coldly upon me as if I came to take the Bread out of their Mouths. At laſt, they agreed among 'em to take one of my Girls off my Hands, and gave me Five Pounds to carry me over to England. But when I came there, I was never the near, for I had anger'd all my Friends in Marrying; and I dare ſay ſome of 'em were glad to ſee me in ſuch Neceſſity. At laſt an Aunt of mine ſent me Word I ſhould be welcome to her in Staf⯑fordſhire, where, being a Widow, and old and infirm, I was ſerviceable to her in the Nature of her Houſe-keeper. It pleaſed God ſhe died in about Two Years after, and left me in Money and Goods to the Value of Four hundred Pounds. Upon this I pluck'd up a good Heart again, and had ſeveral Of⯑fers made me from ſubſtantial Farmers of good Repute in the Neighbourhood; but it [220] was a Sort of Life I did not care for, and having no Thoughts of altering my Condi⯑tion, nothing would ſerve me but I muſt come up to Town here; and having a Stock of Linen, and other good Things that my Aunt left me, I hired a handſome Houſe, and took Lodgers. Well, why this put you in a good Way again, ſaid I, interrupting her. Yes indeed, Sir, ſaid ſhe, I had ſeveral Par⯑liament-Men and other very good Gentlemen in my Houſe, and lived as creditably as any Body in my Employ; ſo that in a few Years I thought I ſhould be able to do very well for my Children. Pray what Children might you have, ſaid I, beſides the Girl you were mentioning in Ireland. I had a Son and Daughter, ſaid ſhe, and as hopeful they were, though I ſay it, as any Woman would wiſh to be Mother of. But there was a Gen⯑tleman in my Houſe who belonged to the Army, a civil Man to my thinking, as ever came under any Body's Roof. I never heard an Oath come out of his Mouth, he paid me punctually every Monday Morning, and was ſo eaſy and contented, that I thought I could never do enough for him. It ſeems, as I found afterwards, he took a Liking to m [...] Betty; and I believe there was no Love lo [...] for I obſerved the Girl would go mopin [...] about the Houſe, and I would often ſ [...] to her, What's come to you, Child? Methin [...] you take no Pleaſure in any Thing you do [...] She would make me no Anſwer; but on [...] Day, as we were alone, I put it Home [...] her, and then ſhe up and told me th [...] whole Story, that ſhe had been over-pe [...] ⯑ſuaded by the Captain, and was ſo far gon [...] that it was in vain to conceal it any long [...] Soon after ſhe was delivered of a fine Bo [...] [221] and as ſoon as ſhe was up, Well, Mother, ſays ſhe, I will not live here to be a Diſgrace to you, I'll try my Fortune in the Indies. So I agreed with a Weſt-India Captain of my Acquaintance, ſince the Girl had ſuch a Mind to travel into foreign Parts; but the firſt News I had by the Return of the Ships was, that ſhe died of the Diſtemper of the Coun⯑try. Still I was in Hopes my Son Joſeph would do well; but he was got in with an idle Gang, who would ſend for him at all Hours in the Night. I was fond of him, and ſed him with Money till I was almoſt redu⯑ced again, in Hopes to reclaim him by fair Means: At other Times I would talk to him ſeriouſly, and tell him he had had another Sort of an Education: But nothing would do; I found I was but a Woman; he would give me the Hearing, and then away to his Comrades. But one Day above the reſt, there was a great Noiſe of a Robbery and Murder that had been committed upon Bagſhot-Heath, and my Son, among others, was taken up and carried to Newgate. Upon his Tryal, he confeſſed he was among them, and was found guilty; but he declared with his laſt Breath, he was not concerned in the Murder. I was with him every Day after his Condem⯑nation. He told me all along he was willing to die; but I did what I could with Money and Friends, till I had nothing left, to get his Pardon; and a Gentleman who belonged to the Court, and had formerly been my Lodger, gave me Hopes to the laſt, and bid me fear nothing, [...]o that my Son ſhould not ſuffer. To keep him in Heart, I told him we ſhould get a Reprieve: But when he found he muſt go into the Cart, he fixed his Eyes ſtedfaſtly upon me, and only ſaid, Mo⯑ther, [222] is it come to this? I repented afterwards that I had deluded my poor Child with vain Promiſes; for he relied ſo much upon them, that I am afraid he did not make ſo good an End as he ſhould have done. It was a bad End indeed, ſaid I, for an only Son; but Children, you know, are certain Troubles, and uncertain Comforts: However, what's paſt can't be recalled. I am ſorry for your Misfortunes; but pray tell me, Do you want any little Aſſiſtance that I can give you? Sir, ſaid ſhe, I'll conceal nothing from you; I want for nothing: I have between Six and Seven Hundred Pounds by me, which I have pick'd up in this Way, and hope that will put me above Dependance for the reſt of my Life."’ I drank again to her to renew our old Acquaintance, and ſo we parted. She left me ſo full of Reflections upon the Eſcape I had had when I would have married her, that I could not ſleep a Wink that Night.

EVER ſince I have taken upon me the Of⯑fice of Cenſor of Great Britain, it has been my principal Care to guard my ſelf againſt all Manner of juſt Reproaches, which might depretiate thoſe wholeſome Maxims which I every Day diſtribute to the Publick, and to fence againſt all thoſe Vices which render old Age contemptible. And 'tis wholly owing to this that I have never fallen into that common Weakneſs of finding Fault with the preſent only for an Excuſe to cry up the laſt Age. I muſt own I have had a great Itch to do it, but as I weigh every Thing before I attempt doing it, I find upon mature Deliberation, that ge⯑nerally [224] ſpeaking the Age is virtuouſly inclined, and that what Faults it has proceed chiefly from excellent Principles, and might be made Virtues with a very little Trouble. For, in the firſt Place, I obſerve that Part of Mankind, where one would leaſt expect it, to be wonder⯑fully inclined to Oeconomy; I mean the Young and the Fair of Quality. No Froſt, Snow, no [...] Eaſt Wind, can hinder a large Set of People from going to the Park in February, no Duſt nor Heat in June. And this is come to ſuch an intrepid Regularity, that thoſe a⯑greeable Creatures that would ſhriek at an hind Wheel in a deep Gutter, are not afraid, in their proper Sphere, of the Diſorder and Danger of Seven Rings. But as the City does generally value it ſelf upon out-doing t'other End of the Town in theſe Matters, ſo I have long obſerved, with infinite Satisfaction, a certain Coach, which I eſteem particularly. It belongs to a worthy Trader in or near Well-Cloſe, and no Diſparagement to Charles's-Wain, it keeps its Courſe as regularly as any Fix'd Star of 'em all. The Family to which this wondrous Automaton belongs, goes to Dinner as ſoon as Morning Service is over, they ſet out in the Cool of the Noon, about Half an Hour after Twelve, and, according to the Rule of diſcreet Travellers, make the Coachman drive ſlowly at firſt, by which they have Two Ad⯑vantages; one, that they ſee all the Company go to Church in the City, and the other, that their Horſes have Time to empty themſelves. At Charing-Croſs they ſtop and give the Cattel a Mouthful of Hay, have a cool Tankard, or the like, and any of the Gentlewomen that have Occaſion ſtep out of the Coach. By the End of Suffolk-ſtreet they mend their Pace, and [225] get into a tolerable Trot, which brings them ſo happily to the fartheſt Part of their Journey, and in ſuch good Time, that they are there as ſoon as the beſt of 'em. I remember laſt Year I was over-againſt Northumberland Houſe when this Caravan repoſed there; they were Five of the Fair Sex, Three pretty fat ones, one very fat, and a lean one. They were all ſure of the Thouſand Pounds a Year in the Lottery, and almoſt fell out about their ſeveral Ways of Diſ⯑poſing of it. The fatteſt of them ſaid, ‘"If it ſhould pleaſe God to take away her Maſter, ſhe would not change her Condition tho' ſhe ſhould get the Thouſand Pounds a Year, but would lay it up to make her Children love her; but if they ſhould prove undutiful, ſhe could not tell how far ſhe might be prevailed upon; but an't pleaſe God ſhe'd never mar⯑ry a Seaman again, ſhe'd have no more Frights and Twitters at every puff of Wind."’ The next in Size to her Ladiſhip ſaid, ‘"Laud Mother, Why to be ſure, Forſooth, you won't have it; you'll have enough without it. Child, ſaid her Mother, Will you never leave off that ugly Trick? Can't you call a Body, Madam? I wou'd to God I had ſent you to Chelſey inſtead of Stepney, but 'twas ſuch a great Way off. Prithee, Siſter, don't fright your ſelf, ſays another, I ſhall have it mun; for I was adreamed, and ſo methought there came a fine Gentleman to me, in a Cinnamon-colour'd Coat and Gold Buttons, and a long Wig, and a Gold Chain about his Neck, and ſo he ax'd me to go with him to his Country-Houſe at Grinitch, and methought he had my Lord Mayor's Bage and Tiſdale, and the City Muſick, and he ſaid as how 'twas becauſe I had a great Forti [...]. [226] The Third ſaid, ſhe was ſure ſhe ſhould have it, becauſe ſhe had a Mind to it; and if ſhe got it, ſhe'd come away immediately to that very Coffee-houſe yonder, and ſend for one of thoſe young Officers out, and marry him immediately; and then, Madam, I'll come and wait upon you in my Glaſs Chariot, and paſs my Time like a little Queen. Ah, Mal! ſaid the old one, thou art a mad Girl; thou'dſt think on't twice—Ay ſo I ſhall Forty Times, ſaid ſhe; till the Lottery is drawn, I ſhall do nothing but think on't: But Siſter Rachel ſays nothing. Why, ſays the lean one, I'm ſatisfied none of you will have it, for 'tis come into my Head juſt now that I ſhall have it my ſelf; and I'll take a Houſe in Devonſhire-Square, and get a Set to play all Day long at Lue, and never marry, but deſpiſe Mankind; though now I think on't, if any of you have a Girl to my Mind, per⯑haps I may breed her up, and when I die, leave her all I have, and then ſhe may be married to a Lord: Look'ee there now."’ It grieved me mightily to ſee the Coach drive a⯑way at this Period, and I could not but make this Reflection: How Five People could be ſanguine enough to expect the great Lot, which was One hundred and fifty thouſand to One whether either of them had it, and of the many Thouſand Owners of Coaches in and about this great City, not one of them was afraid of having their Necks broke at the Park, where the Odds are not above Two hundred at moſt; nay, Folks are glad to borrow a Chance for being crippled. I concluded with my ſelf, that thoſe who come from the wary Part of the Town, had perhaps had the Precau⯑tion to inſure in Exchange-Alley, without which [227] I thought it impoſſible Ladies ſhould venture to travel ſo far to run ſuch Dangers; for we may perceive by the Number of Offices now in Town, that it is no longer in Faſhion to ride Poſt to Sieges: But the Myſtery was ſoon explained as to theſe Well-Cloſe Pilgrims; for that very Evening my honeſt Friend Faber would needs take me from St. James's Park with him to eat a cold Chicken and Sallad, and drink a Flask of Flurrence, as he calls it; and as we were looking out at Window in the Pall-Mall, and ſeeing the Coaches going to the Park, I ſaw my Lady and her Daughters re⯑turn. I had an Inclination to ſmile at firſt; but upon Reflection, I could not but admire the Sagacity of thoſe People, who (having a great Way to go) come out of the Park when others are going in, for by that Means they ſee all the Company, and avoid all the Danger.

I Cannot without Admiration behold the forward Pretenſions of the Youth of this Age, wherein we daily find Boys exerting the very firſt Operations of their Minds in the moſt abſtruſe Parts of Learning; ſo that one would th nk the Souls of their Great Grandfathers had tranſmigrated into them. This praecoci⯑ous Wit, as it is very unbecoming in the Pre⯑ſence of a Man of my Years, ſo is it likewiſe very ominous to the Perſons who are poſſeſſed with it; for they are generally ſhort-liv'd, and give Occaſion to their Mothers to ſay, The poor Child had too much Senſe to live long. It is therefore my Opinion, That this great Vice takes its Beginning entirely from taking Chil⯑dren too ſoon f om the Breaſt, and admitting them ſo early to the Uſe of a luxurious Variety in their Food, which forces an Underſtanding before its due Time. I have therefore, from a [229] long Obſervation amongſt young Fellows, as I find them in their Converſation, and according to the Subjects which they handle, been able to tell the very Day when the Nurſe applied the bitter Drug to the Nipple, to give them an Averſion to Sucking. There was a Law among that wiſe People the Romans, That no Man ſhould kill above Thirty Aſſes at a Time for a Banquet; and the Reaſon was, that they being a Creature then eſteemed a great Dainty, and a vaſt Conſumption of them, there was found at length a great Defect of their Milk for the Education of the Offspring of the Common⯑wealth, to the unſpeakable Pain and Labour of the good Women, who were otherwiſe obli⯑ged to ſuckle their Children till they ſhould be fit to carry Arms in Defence of their Coun⯑try. I have therefore, out of a due Reſpect to ſuch an excellent Example, and to prevent the Inconveniencies of theſe too early Eſſays in Things of ſublime Science, ordered the inge⯑nious Mr. Charles Bubbleboy to get made for the Uſe of the Publick, from Time to Time, a ſufficient Number of Sucking-Bottles, which all young Fellows under the Age of Twenty are to hang with a Chain about their Necks. And I likewiſe ordain, That when any Perſon under the Age above written ſhall preſume to launch out of his Depth in Theoretical Learn⯑ing, it ſhall be in the Power of any By-ſtander to apply the Bottle to his Mouth, and make him ſuck.

I hope by this Simplicity of Diet in ſome reaſonable Time ſo far to reform the Manners of Youth in Converſation, that no one under the Age aforementioned ſhall preſume to ex⯑ceed the Limits of Grammatical Learning in Diſcourſe; and likewiſe to augment the [230] Strength and Stature of my Countrymen, a [...] well as their Underſtandings.

It has ever been the Cuſtom of our Family to bring up their Children without endeavou⯑ring to improve their Minds till their Bodies were grown to a full Maturity, and we were ſuffered as it were to lie fallow without any Cultivation, till the Soil was rich enough to give a full Vigour and Extenſion to the Seed that ſhould be ſown in it. For this Reaſon I was looked upon as a meer Idiot all the Time of my Childhood, and lived in a State of Ad⯑miration to an Age wherein others are wont to exert egregious Signs of Wiſdom. I remember very well, that I ſucked my Mother till I was able to carry my Cradle on my Back, and could not ſpeak a Word till I was Ten Years old, being a perfect Pythagorean by Nature, and always more inclinable to hear than talk, till I grew ſo full of Conceptions, that at laſt I was obli⯑ged to give Vent by Writing, as my Thoughts oppreſs'd me, the Delivery of which hath had that wonderful Effect as to make me arrive at the Dignity of being Cenſor of Great Britain.

MY Curioſity led me the other Day to be preſent at the Election at Weſtminſter School, where I met with an Entertainment of Juvenile Exerciſes ſuitable to my Expecta⯑tion, and obſerved with great Satisfaction thoſe pretty Velitations of Wit, which may be called the politer Parts of Grammatical Learning, and are the promiſing Preludes of future Perfections in the ſublime Sciences. Thoſe little Epigram⯑matical Flowers, in which you behold Poetry in her Spring, very various in her Array of Co⯑lours, but not daring yet to ſhoot high from the Earth, which were then offered up as Fi [...] Fruits to the Great Harlaeus, as they ſhew their own Inability of ſoaring high enough, yet they do in ſome Meaſure point at that immenſe Heighth of Praiſe, which ſhould be equal to [233] the Subject commended, and which ought to be the particular Province of an Epick Poet.

When I firſt entered the School, I was ſtruck with a becoming Awe and Veneration to ſo ſa⯑cred a Place, and the Dignity of the Perſon preſiding in it, not without a due Regard to the Faſces, which are the Symbol of his Au⯑thority. I could not then forbear taking the Perſon and Office of a Schoolmaſter into a nearer Conſideration, and to propoſe him to my Mind in the Abſtract, with a View of what he teaches.

A Schoolmaſter is a compleat Treaſury of choſen Words from Claſſick Authors, the very Compoſition of whoſe Body does not ſeem to owe it ſelf ſo much to the Four Phyſicical Ele⯑ments, as to the Four and twenty Letters of the Alphabet; and yet with ſo little Confuſion in his Contexture, that he ſhall be able, as it were, to unravel his whole Subſtance into Idi⯑oms, Proper Diction, Golden Sentences, Ver⯑ſes, Themes, and Declamations. You would think the Oeconomy of his Houſe was directed entirely according to the Three Special Rules, and that the Book of Tenſes ſerved for a Clock to it. His proper Buſineſs is to teach Gram⯑mar, which he diſtributes as ſound Aliment to his Scholars, giving every one ſuch a Portion for a Meal, and with that Impartiality, that no one complains of having too little.

Whilſt I was amuſing my ſelf with theſe Thoughts, which to ſome may ſeem too ludi⯑crous on ſo grave a Subject, (though I profeſs [...]t is far from my Intention to leſſen the Idea of [...]o excellent a Function) I was diverted from [...]urther proſecuting the Character, by being obli⯑ged [234] to take Notice of Three or Four ſpr [...] young Fellows, that walked about the Scho [...] and ſeemed to affect an Air of Thoughtleſne [...] They twirled round their Gloves with great [...] ⯑difference, looked ſerene, wore Bob-Wigs, cle [...] Sleeves, and their Coats were generally abo [...] ſix Inches too ſhort, and ſeemed not at all [...] give Attention to the excellent Things th [...] were ſpoke. Theſe I found to be young S [...] ⯑dents lately returned from Oxford, who wou [...] not condeſcend to be pleaſed with ſuch Trifl [...] exerting at the ſame Time ſeveral Lines [...] their Faces to ſignify a ſuperior Excellence [...] verſifying, and looking down with a Sort [...] Pity on thoſe that admired the preſent Perf [...] ⯑mances.

Interſperſed here and there in ſeveral Co [...] ⯑ners of the School, you might have ſeen ſo [...] Fellows of the ſame Stamp, but ſomething a [...] ⯑cienter Date, with a very profound Look, b [...] ⯑ting their Thumbs, and ſcratching their Head [...] Others with their Faces lifted up horizontal [...] to the Sieling; and here and there a Man th [...] required only, for the Aſſiſtance of his Inve [...] ⯑tion, a Bit of Packthread, or a Pin to play wit [...] between his Fingers.

Theſe Fellows, I found, were endeavourin [...] to revive their Muſe long ſince extinct, and d [...] ⯑ſirous of being catch'd in a Poſture of inten [...] ⯑ing ſomething for the Uſe of the young Ca [...] ⯑didates. Theſe Rogues I could not bear wit [...] for that I feared they might defraud the youn [...] Gentlemen of their due Praiſe, by a falſe Op [...] ⯑nion that might be conceived of their Service [...] whereas it is very natural to think, that Exe [...] ⯑ciſes of this Nature are proper only to Youth [...] who by a peculiar Heat and Vivacity are re [...] ⯑der'd [235] capable of that Quickneſs of Apprehenſion which is neceſſary to produce thoſe extempo⯑raneous and amazing Flights of Fancy.

I left the School with ſome Indignation, and came down into the Cloyſters, where I ſur⯑prized the Great (tho' unfriendly to the Muſes) Johannes Kellaeus, juſt deſcended from the Room where the Company had dined, ſtuffing into his Pockets the Leg of a Lobſter, the Carcaſs of a Green Gooſe, and a great Lump of Pud⯑ding.

WHEN I was laſt at Oxford about Seven or Eight and twenty Years ago, I had ſtruck up a great Friendſhip with Two very brisk Sportſmen, Fellows of All-Souls College, Charles Oppian and Gratius Fa⯑liſcus. They each of them kept their Brace of Geldings. We uſed to hunt Three Times a Week with Dr. Hammond's Hounds, and ge⯑nerally paſſed the Evenings together. We kept a Correſpondence very regularly for ſome Months after I left the Univerſity, but by little and little it dwindled away, and I thought they had been both dead, till upon publiſhing my Papers our Acquain⯑tance revived again, and they often ſend me a Hare or a Pike to put me in Mind [237] [...]f the happy Moments we formerly enjoyed at [...]l. Harding's. This which follows came with [...] Preſent, and may ſerve as a Specimen to [...]hew the World what an odd Way of Think⯑ [...]ng a Man of very good Senſe may contract, [...]ho has no Commerce with any Thing but [...]is Books, and his own Imagination.

WHen I was formerly an Oxford Scholar, I had the Honour of being Mace-bearer [...]o the Club of Ugly Faces for ſeveral Years to⯑gether; and I remember it was of very great Uſe to me in thoſe Times, for as I had never [...]ny Money in my Pocket to ſpend, ſo neither [...]ad I any Occaſion for it, it being a ſtanding Rule in the Club, always to run away without [...]aying the Reckoning; as it was alſo, that we [...]hould never come to the ſame Houſe twice. I [...]emember ſeveral excellent Diſcourſes had in [...]hat Society in Praiſe of Deformity: It was [...]enerally defin'd to be a ſportive Deviation of [...]ature, when ſhe exerciſed her Plaſtick Facul⯑ [...]y in the Formation of Man, to diſtinguiſh her [...]avourites from thoſe of a common Concern. The Two general Diviſions ran upon Redun⯑ [...]ancies and Defects, as they related to the par⯑ [...]cular Parts of a humane Body. Redundan⯑ [...]es comprehended Carbuncles, Hair-Lips, Wattles on the Noſe, Coalition of Eyebrows, [242] Elevations of Back and Breaſt, &c. Defe [...] were, Pigs Eyes, Tup Noſes, ſhort Necks, [...] ⯑vernous Cheeks, flat and ſharp Scalps, &c. T [...] ſeveral Members of our Society were each [...] them dignified with ſome one or more of the [...] reſpective Qualifications; inſomuch that, wh [...] we ſate down together over our Eleemoſyna [...] Cups, we made a very good Symmetry in [...] Appearance, by an artful Diſpoſition of our [...] ⯑dies in a proper Place and Light, whereby [...] ſeemed to transfer from one to another wh [...] might be defective or ſuperfluous, and by [...] ⯑tual Applications obumbrate our common Fai⯑lures and Exceſſes. It was the cuſtomary Bu⯑ſineſs of the Night to make Panegyrical Ora⯑tions on our natural Features, which were in⯑deed of that wonderful Structure, that neith [...] the Tongue of Demoſthenes could deſcribe, th [...] Chiſſel of Polycletus carve, nor the Pencil [...] Apelles paint, with all thoſe proper Graces th [...] ought to be expreſs'd in ſuch elegant Subjec [...] I remember Anthracius, then Steward of th [...] Club, had a Carbuncle on his Noſe of the fir [...] Magnitude, not unworthy the Crown of [...] Oriental Monarch, which did not uſe to ſhi [...] in its full Luſtre till Midnight. Then it w [...] that the divine Phoxus, with his acumina [...] Creſt high towring in the Air, conceived [...] Oration in Words to this Effect: ‘"Moſt no⯑ble Anthracius, I am not ignorant how [...] it is above the Power of my Eloquence ſ [...] ⯑ciently to commend the indulgent Benigni [...] of Nature, who has placed that effulge [...] Fungus of maſſy Light, on the utmoſt Pro⯑montory of thy lovely Viſage: See how [...] diffuſive Rays dazzle his languid Peepe [...] and ſpread a lambent Fire over the who [...] Surface of his Jowls and Chuckles. Thri [...] happy Inſects! Who, now in Egg, are lodg [...] [243] in the benign putrid Cells of ſo foecund an Ovary, expecting to be called forth to the perpetual Day which always ſurrounds it: How will you then flirt your flitting Wings, and buz within the Verge of that glowing Vortex."’ The Oration was received with univerſal Applauſe, and Anthracius about to anſwer; but the Proctors coming in, we were obliged to defer the Hearing till next Night.

I am reſolved, in Imitation of this wiſe and excellent Conſtitution, to eſtabliſh another Club here in London, where I ſhall not deſpair of a Number ſufficient to make our Comple⯑ment, and have already ſent me from Oxford the true and genuine Impreſſion of the Mace, taken in Clay at a general Meeting of that ex⯑cellent Society, and have ſent it to my Carver, intending to open with the firſt Meeting at Fern's, at the Roſe in Catherine-ſtreet next Mon⯑day Night, where any Perſon may be admitted that is duly qualified, after having paſſed an Examination by my faithful and watchful Se⯑cretary Mr. Henry Dighton, in Fleetſtreet, whom, for his great Sagacity and Judgment in the Mathematical Proportion of Faces, I do depute thereunto.

P. S. Since my finiſhing this Paper, the fol⯑lowing Letter came to my Hands from the Club at Oxford, which I thought fit to inſert here.

Ordered, That the Spectator make his perſo⯑nal Appearance between this and Monday next before Secretary Dighton, in order to be exa⯑mined.

Ordered alſo, That none preſume to come to the Club with Faces diſtorted on Purpoſe to gain Admiſſion, or with Vizard-Maſques to diſ⯑ſemble an Accompliſhment.

N. B. In caſe of Non-Attendance, I ſhall ſummon from Time to Time all thoſe who ſhall out of Contempt abſent themſelves, or whoſe Modeſty will not ſuffer them to lay Claim to their being received in the Society.

LOng have I laboured, and much have I travelled, for the Improvement of my Fellow-Subjects. I have not been wanting by my Speculations to ſhow the eaſy and pleaſant Ways to Virtue; nor have I been leſs ſevere in cenſuring Vice wherever I met it, which I find every where increaſe, and come on apace, while Virtue ſlowly creeps up, meets with continual Oppoſition, and ſeldom, very ſeldom comes to that Perfection as to dare to look Vice in the Face; but then it eaſily looks ſuch falſe Courage out of Countenance. It was moſt amazing to me, when I was Yeſter⯑day at St. James's Coffee-houſe, to ſee a for⯑ward Youth, well dreſſed and powdered, whom I knew not only to be of very mean Extract, but of more deſpicable Parts, lay his extraor⯑dinary Chin over a Duke's Shoulder, and as familiarly ask him impertinent Queſtions, as if his Equality or Intimacy entitled him to di⯑ſturb that noble Peer, who, when he was de⯑livered from the Weight of his Chin, enquired who he was. How eaſy had it been for me to have told the Company, that that Place was [246] indeed very fit for him, but in another Capaci⯑ty? However I only privately informed th [...] Maſter, who, in Reſpect to his Brother Coffee⯑Man, deſired the Count to know himſelf, an [...] not be ſo familiar with thoſe that he did no [...] know. From that Place I came to Tom's at De⯑vereux-Court. I have a ſingular Reſpect for that courteous Man, and find, that if he per⯑mits Doctor Sal-vo—to lay aſide the Man in that violent Man, and with an Indignation (greater than can be admitted to any Orator) retire into the Third Sphere, and talk Things indeed not fit to be heard, I aſſure my Under-Secretary, that as Curioſity at preſent doubles his Cuſtomers at the Doctor's Eloquence, in a ſhort Time, as no Body elſe now can be heard, there will be no Body to hear.

Ordered therefore, That unleſs the ſaid Do⯑ctor will condeſcend to be on the Level with Common Senſe, his Tea be always Two De⯑grees under Proof; That he be allowed no Tobacco, nor the Uſe of his own S. V. O. both too conducive to Agitation; but after having paid his Penny, you ſhow him the Situation of your Door.

What made me in ſome Meaſure excuſe the Doctor's Vociferation was, that I did not ſee as uſual the News-Papers, of which none could give Account, till in about Half an Hour's Time I ſaw a Man come out of the Yard with a Handful, yet enquiring moſt thirſtily for the Poſt-Boy; till he had that, he would not deliver the reſt. Upon Enquiry, I found him to be my old Friend the Upholſterer revi⯑ved in a North-Britiſh Barber, who is ſo great a Patriot, ſo good a Politician, ſo ſollicitous for the Grand Alliance in General, and ſo tender of [247] the Intereſt of every particular Court, that for them he neglects the more trifling Cares of domeſtick Concerns, and appears early and late in a tatter'd Gown. ‘"Sir, (ſays he to me) by your Leave, there is one Paragraph of ve⯑ry great Importance which has eſcaped me."’ And having directed me to it, (for I would not again part with it out of my Hand) deſired I would read it, which I did in a direct Line through the whole Paper, without Regard to the Diſtinction of Columns, and was as fol⯑lows:

‘'Ay Sir, ſaid he, How can that be? Surely Sir—Nay, look'ee Sir, ſaid I, If you don't like my Reading, if you'll ſtay ſo long for it as you have made others, you may have it again; but he retired.'’

DIſcouraged and wearied by the ill Succeſs of my Endeavours to reclaim this obſti⯑nate Age f om its Vices and Follies, I have of⯑ten had it in my Thoughts to quit my Office. My Friends all importune me to it, and one of them, whom in January laſt I had deſired to continue this Paper during a neceſſary Avoca⯑tion of mine, actually tried to lay it down handſomly for me. Nothing has hindered me from complying with their Requeſts, but a ſtrong Benevolence I have always had towards Mankind, and an ardent Deſire of doing ſome Good in my Generation. Theſe alone have ſupported me under my Diſappointment, and now prompt me to put in Execution a new Scheme, which is to abate ſomething from the Grandeur of my Enterprize; and, ſince I can⯑not attain a greater Good, to attempt a leſs, no longer endeavouring to eaſe Men of their Fol⯑lies, but in their Follies; nor ſtriving to make [249] Men ſupportable to each other, but each one to himſelf. This Thought aroſe in me the o⯑ther Night at the Play, upon obſerving ſeveral Difficulties that many of our Nobility and Gen⯑try laboured under. A pretty young Gentle⯑man tore his Breeches, and broke his Sword, by getting over the Box into the Pit, that he might have that Opportunity of expoſing to Sight his Pearl-coloured Stockings and red-top'd Shoes. Another, who had a very fine Wig, and a Feather in his Hat, was forced to ſit covered all the Time, and ſpoil the Wig to ſhew the Feather. A Third, leſt his fring'd Gloves ſhould not be ſeen, underwent the Pain of leaning forwards for a whole Play together upon the fore Part of the Box, ſetting his Arms upright upon his Elbows. A Fourth, who was in low Circumſtances of Stature, every now and then with great Labour heaved into Sight a rich Sword-Knot: And many others were variouſly hamper'd and perplex'd in diſplaying their ſeveral Fineries. To remedy which In⯑conveniences, I at firſt thought it might be pro⯑per to adviſe the Owners of the Play-houſe to appropriate each Diviſion of the Side-Boxes to a ſeveral Dreſs, and to diſtinguiſh them by In⯑ſcriptions over them in large Letters in theſe and the like Words:

• Red-top'd Shoes.
• Sword-Knots.
• Feathers.
• Fring'd Gloves.
• Gold Snuff-Boxes.
• Dreſs'd at all Points.

By which Means the whole Audience would at one Glance be appriz'd of the particular Or⯑nament of every Perſon in that Diviſion.

[250] But reflecting ſince that this Invention would be of too narrow an Uſe, (it being likely to ex⯑tend only to the Play-houſe, and perhaps a Ca⯑thedral or two) I have applied my ſelf to find out ſomething that may be of general Eaſe to the Beau Monde; proceeding in this Manner; I conſidered what might be the Riſe or Cauſe of all that vaſt Variety of Faſhions which we Yearly ſee. This I found to be ſolely the Oftentation of Riches; for upon this Accoun [...] it is, that People have no ſooner one Sui [...] brought Home from the Taylor's, but (to ſhew that their Purſe is not exhauſted) they beſpeak another, which (that it may appear to the moſt careleſs Eye to be a late Purchaſe) muſt differ from the former, not only in Matter, but in Form. This in the preſent Courſe of Things will be an eternal Occaſion of the Mutability of Faſhions, and as a Man has but one Way of being in the Right, and Ten thouſand of be⯑ing in the Wrong, ſo there can be but one Dreſs commodious, and as ſoon as we deviate from that, we ſhall find all the reſt trouble⯑ſome. I therefore thought, that if a Medium could be invented by me, whereby both the Fair and the Foul. Sex might at once be rid of the Incumbrances of the Mode, and be conti⯑nued in the Reputation of Profuſeneſs, I ſhould do an acceptable Piece of Service to my Country, and procure to my ſelf Peace of Mind in a Conſciouſneſs that I had not lived in vain. This I hope I have at laſt happily ef⯑fected by the following Project:

The Advantages that will ariſe from this Of⯑fice are innumerable. I ſhall only hint at a few, which will put the Reader into a Way of diſcovering many more.

By Vertue of proper Credentials, Gentlemen may wear Wigs of ſuch Size and Colour as ſhall beſt ſuit with their Features and Complexions, and yet have the Credit of Light Full-Bottoms. Thick Legs may be diminiſhed by black Stock⯑ings, and Spindle-Shanks enlarged by white, yet both be reputed as Scarlet Silk. Corns may be avoided by keeping the Feet in eaſy old Shoes, and yet the Owner maintain the Reputation of having a new Pair every Day. Ladies, by theſe Credentials, may yet farther enlarge their Petticoats, which in their preſent Method is impoſſible to be done. They may make their Head-Dreſſes proportionable to their Petticoats, and they may patch their Faces with Diamonds without Diſparagement to their Eyes.

I am not inſenſible how highly beneficial this Scheme might be in raiſing Money for the [252] Publick; but a former Project of mine ha⯑ving been rejected with Scorn when I offer⯑ed it, and Two Years after made Uſe of with good Succeſs, but without any Acknow⯑ledgment of or to the Inventor, I am diſ⯑guſted from making any more Propoſals of that Nature. I had once a Mind to apply the Profits to Charitable Uſes; but then I thought again, that doing Good with the Money would be ſo prodigious an Altera⯑tion in the Application of it, that it would create an inſuperable. Objection againſt the whole Undertaking in thoſe who were likely to be my Contributors; ſo that I have at laſt reſolved to apply it wholly to my own Benefit.

IT is impoſſible to deſcribe Wit by Generals: We muſt deſcend to Particulars, and trace it Part by Part. For Wit is like Beauty: We may admire the Air, the Symmetry, the whole Collection of Charms; but we cannot expreſs it without running over the Lip, the Neck, the Eye, the Breaſts, and every individual Fea⯑ture. At preſent I ſhall examine that Sort of Wit we call Turns. Theſe appear to Advan⯑tage in ſome Parts of Poetry, which make their proper Province, but loſe their Luſtre when miſplaced, and have nothing to excuſe them, but an unbounded irregular Fancy. The Ornaments of Poetry, like thoſe of Dreſs, owe their Ecclat in a great Meaſure to their Situa⯑tion. A Turn, that would have given Life to an Epigram, will make an Image in Heroicks particoloured and ridiculous; as the ſame Jew⯑el which adorned the Ear or the Neck, would in the Noſe look monſtrous and rueful. This [254] Miſapplication then is a Species of Falſe Wi [...] and has a large Share in the Degeneracy [...] our modern Writers. I ſhould be apt to di⯑ſtinguiſh the Muſe that inſpired this Sort [...] Wit from the Divine Calliope, as I would a C [...] ⯑quet from a Fine Woman: One is all Air an [...] Affectation; the other refines upon good Senſe [...] yet converſes in proper Words and Sentiments. A Turn is the Creature of Fancy, that after it is born, is put under the Tuition of the Judg⯑ment, which is to aſſign it a proper Station, and to ſtint its Extravagancies. When it de⯑pends upon the Words or Style, great Care is to be uſed that it may not dwindle into P [...] and Jingle; and when it conſiſts chiefly in the Thought, the ſame Diligence is required that it may not ſink into any of thoſe Flowers of the School, or Common-Places of Youth, by which they gradually aſcend to this Attainment. Both the Real and Verbal Turn owe their Beau⯑ty to Novelty; for there is no greater Per⯑fection in theſe Witticiſms, than what ariſes from that ſudden Surprize they make upon the Imagination. They ſeem to take their Name from their Nature; for they conſiſt moſtly in advancing a Thought or Expreſſion, and then making what follows, play upon it in an agreeable Way, either by retracting what went before, or wittily perverting it, or comparing it with ſomething that hits the ſame Fact or Idea to any Degree of Exactneſs, or giving ſome ſurprizing Reaſon for it when it ſeemed a Paradox. Indeed, the Variety of Turns is ſo great, and their Beauty ſo entirely owing to this Variety, that it is almoſt impoſſible to fix them to any ſtated Rules. A Turn being the Product of Fancy, it is unnatural to uſe it but in thoſe gayer and more airy Parts of Poetry, where the Fancy is at Liberty to wanton and [255] gambol. In the Epick, in Tragedy, or in that Sort of Elegy which has Diſtreſs for its Subject, it would be ridiculous and trifling; for here the chief Buſineſs belongs to the Judgment, and the Fancy is only concerned in ranging for Images and Ideas equal to the Grandeur of the Subject. A Hero in a Paſſion, might as well expreſs the high Sentiments of his Soul by laughing at one of the Plumes out of his Hel⯑met, as by playing with a Turn or a Double Entendre. A Lover, lamenting the Rigour of his Miſtreſs, or a Poet the Loſs of his Friend, in this ſportive Way, would make as aukward a Figure as the reſigned Ardelia, when ſhe laughs at the Miſchiefs committed by her Monkey, though the Loſs of her China wrings her very Soul; or an Iriſhman, in his Country Way, ſinging at a Funeral. The Ancients had Abundance of this Sort of Wit, and uſed it more diſcreetly than the Moderns. The Greeks indeed appear perfect Strangers to it: They had other Ways to improve that Mirth which was ſo natural to them. Anacreon and Ariſto⯑phanes write in a Way where Turns are a Beau⯑ty, and yet it is very difficult to find ſo much as one Expreſſion of that Sort in their Works. Homer, Heſiod, Theocritus, and Muſaeus, have no⯑thing like it in their Poems. It ſeems to have begun at Rome, when Epigrams became the common Entertainment of their beſt People. After Supper, or over a Bottle in a cool Re⯑treat, it was their Cuſtom to divert one ano⯑ther with reciting or compoſing three or four Diſtichs, that were uſually pointed with one of theſe Turns, in which they were ſmart upon ſome of the reigning Coxcombs, Coquets, or Humours of that Age. Modern Lampoons were introduced as a Third Courſe at the Ta⯑bles of great Men in Imitation of this Cuſtom. [256] A good Part of Martial's Epigrams ſeem [...] have been made at ſome of thoſe Converſa⯑tions; whence we may account for the grea [...] Inequality in his Works, which himſelf ac⯑knowledges—

For we may imagine, that the Grave Pieces were made juſt upon the Whet, the Bright after the firſt Bottle, and the Smutty after a full Doſe. The Applauſe that followed up⯑on theſe ſmart Things, tempted the Fraternity to mingle them with their moſt Serious and Pathetick Works. Ovid, whoſe great Fault was Redundante, ran early into a palpable Ex⯑travagance this Way. In his Exile, amidſt Cold, Hunger, Solitude, and Diſtreſs, he indulges this aukward B [...]dinery very feelingly. Imagine a generous Fellow, touched with the Loſs of a Fine Woman, and could he find Leiſure for ſo egregious a Turn as—

Narciſſus is turned into a Flower, and well deſerved it for playing with his own Miſery, and making Flowers of his Misfortunes. When he burſts forth in the moſt wanton Merriment, with—

You would think he were varying at Wert⯑minſter, and not preparing himſelf for a real Transformation.

[257] Virgil, the moſt judicious and correct Writer in the World, has ſtudiouſly avoided every Temptation to this Error. His—

Is the only Thing that looks like a Turn. How carefully does he avoid it in that fine Complaint of Gallus—

There is all the Beauty of the Analagy in two Words, which Ovid would have wire⯑drawn into two Lines at leaſt: For a Profeſſor of Turns can never forbear exerting himſelf when he happens to bring a Scornful Miſtreſs into the Company of Cold and Froſt, till he has made the Lady a perfect Winter-piece; and 'tis all one if Fire had made a Third Per⯑ſon in the Converſation. I remember a very celebrated Epigram, which begins thus:

Where the Author ſubmits to be pelted with Snow-balls by his Miſtreſs for Eight Lines to⯑gether, on Purpoſe to take the Benefit of this Melting Allegory. It would ſet up an ordina⯑ry Critick to take the Moderns to Task upon this ſingle Article, the Miſapplication of Turns. The Time may perhaps come, when I may in Perſon ſummon our great Alexander, Theodoſius, Brutus, Anthony, Caeſar, T [...], Appius, and Oſmyn, to anſwer their Extravagancies this Way, and out of their own Mouths ſhall condemn them. I do not mean for little harm⯑leſs Turns made in their Reſ [...]eries, their cool [258] Soliloquies, or in ſnip-ſnap Dialogue with a Prieſt or a Gentleman-Uſher; but for Turus i [...] Fits of Love and of Madneſs; for Turus ſpoke [...] in the very Face of Death, and of the Gods themſelves; nay, in the very Face of their Miſtreſſes: And I am not miſtaken, if they have not ſometimes raiſed the inordinate Ap⯑petite of Wit to the horrid Outrage of a down⯑right Quibble.

A Lover's Meditation on his Miſtreſs.

THE Hours to me are Ages of Miſery; they muſt be inſupportable to a Wretch who can never know what Joy is but in her Preſence. Love may well be defined a reſtleſs Impatience to be with thoſe we adore. What a miſerable Conſtraint then muſt I live under, who make it my Buſineſs to avoid the Miſtreſs of my Soul? Where my Heart, my Wiſhes, my Thoughts are eternally, there I muſt never be. Did ſhe but know what I ſuffer, and how much a Diſcretion as exact as mine makes one miſerable; but alas! they muſt love like me that are to gueſs at my Torments. I hardly know I live, but by what I endure for her. O! Nothing can touch my Soul; there is no Har⯑mony [259] in Words, unleſs ſhe ſpeaks-them; there is no Bliſs, but in her Smile; no Terror, but in her Frown; nothing worth living for, but her Eſteem. There is this Comfort in an Af⯑fliction like mine, no other Thing can give me a Moment's Uneaſineſs. She prevents all other Grief, ſhe prevents all other Pleaſure. If the whole World ſhould change its Place, and ſhe not concerned, I ſhould hardly perceive it. Whether Peace or War, what Party prevails, whoſe Ruin is near, all theſe Things are now indifferent, they employ not my Thoughts. My only Impatience is to increaſe her good Opinion, my only Care not to forfeit her Eſteem. This Thought brings me into one of thoſe terrible Fits of Fear which often ſeize them that adore her. I know I am not in poſitive Diſobedience; and a little Equivocation, if ſo much practiſed in Religion, may be indulged in Love. I nei⯑ther write nor ſend to her; I dare not diſobey. Sure if there be any Thing like a Fault in this, I am ſafe. Who is it is to accuſe? Who is guilty? And I hope I may ſay, What is the Crime? This Letter is ſent to you, meant to her, and it came from him; but, Who are theſe? In this Dreſs, it is to every Body, it is to no Body. How will you draw up my In⯑dictment? However let me not be condemn'd unaccus'd, unheard; ſave me from being cri⯑minal, if you can think me ſo. Burn this, and there can be but a ſingle Evidence againſt me, your ſelf; and there never ſhall be another. This is the plotting Way of your Servant, who with leſs Fear would engage in Treaſon than in what might offend her too ſcrupulous Nice⯑neſs. I confeſs I tremble, tho' I can ſay (if this be one) it is a new Kind of Sin, againſt which there is no Law.

Her Eyes were not more fatal to me the firſt Time that I ſaw them, than my own have been [260] falſe to my Heart ever ſince, if they have [...] told her a Thouſand Times that I die for [...] Alas! How many Tears will that Happin [...] coſt them? They have gaz'd upon her, th [...] have confeſs'd a Paſſion; and ſhould not [...] Hand declare, my Tongue endeavour to de⯑ſcribe it, that ſhe might know my Love [...] as it ought to be? The Adoration that I [...] her is ſuch, and no other but what we ſhou [...] all pay the Gods were their charming Attri⯑butes ſo viſible. I was prepared for their [...] ⯑tal Influence before I ſaw her Eyes, I was be⯑witch'd by her Syren Tongue before I heard it. I lov'd the Spring from whence ſhe came, and my Soul follows the enticing Stream with Plea⯑ſure. I knew there muſt be Wit and Fire be⯑fore I heard ſo, and I found more than was ſpoken of. Thus I was ſtruck by Prepoſſeſſion, and the Poiſon firſt inſtilled into my Heart be⯑fore I ſaw or knew her, can never be removed from thence by all that I ſhall ever ſee or know. I would not profane a Confeſſion as ſincere as ever was a dying Man's with the leaſt Aug⯑mentation of Truth. I will not pretend that I have not endeavoured to remove, by any other Object, a Stroke of Fate (as I may call it) that has given and will give me ſuch Uneaſineſs. Were I to make a Wiſh for a Friend, he ſhould have many Half-Paſſions, but none ſuch as I have felt for her.

O! This would content me alone, that ſhe might know how long I have ſtruggled againſt her Charms in vain.

As the Beginning of my Fate was extraordi⯑nary, I think all the Steps of it have been and will be out of the common Road. The Foun⯑dation of a common Paſſion is a Deſire to pleaſe ones ſelf, but the Aim of mine is only to pleaſe her I adore.

[261] Could it be more Satisfaction to her to have [...]e wretched than happy, I ſhould chuſe the [...]rſt, and find ſome Satisfaction in Miſery: But what I cannot endure is to be indifferent to [...]er; to be eternally thinking of her, and never [...]hought of by her. Heavens preſerve me from [...]his, and I willingly in every Thing elſe ſub⯑ [...]it to Fate.

O how I fear her Wit, her Judgment, that Diſtinction that lets no Folly eſcape! I fear her [...]ut upon this Score, for ſure I am, all her Pe⯑ [...]etration can never diſcover the leaſt Contra⯑ [...]iction, the leaſt Deceit in any Word, the leaſt Want of Reſpect in any Action. Sure I am, no Time can ever diſcover the leaſt Diminution in [...]y Zeal, and muſt I nevertheleſs fear this moſt [...]dored Lady ſhould employ that Over-Stock of Wit ſhe hath to ridicule the Sufferings of a [...]reaking Heart, ſo faithful, ſo ſubmiſſive, ſo [...]incere? O! How ſhall I expreſs my ſelf? What [...]hall I ſay? Or is it poſſible to be ſilent? There [...] a diſtracted Language ſhe does not under⯑ [...]tand; the Dialect is particular to them that [...]ove; and the cruel Lady will find no Senſe in [...], becauſe ſhe is inſenſible. She muſt not then play the Critick too ſeverely, if ſhe ſhould chance to hear my Complaints. She muſt ex⯑cuſe my accuſing her of Ignorance. What is it ſhe does not underſtand but Love? Vows, Curſes, Melancholy, Madneſs, Hopes, Deſpair, Shunning, Purſuing, Paſſion, Diſcretion, Im⯑patience, Reſignation; all theſe in one Letter, ſhe would call a romantick Heap of Contra⯑dictions ſhuffled together; yet they do all a⯑gree in me, and work at once in my diſtracted Mind. If the greateſt Wit had put them toge⯑ther with the utmoſt Art and Paſſion, they would expreſs leſs than I feel: The Thoughts would be below my Love, and not above the Truth.

[262] Who can teach me to write to this terri [...] Lady, that ignorant of the Fatality of [...] Charms, might ſuſpect the Effects of the [...] and when they are but faintly painted, wo [...] think the Colours fierce? What can I have [...] courſe to but Plainneſs and Sincerity? S [...] then without Offence I may tell this Tr [...] What can the Admiration of her Wit, the [...] ⯑dence of her Generoſity, and Truth added [...] theſe, that charming Agreeableneſs in eve [...] Word, in every Look, in every Action? W [...] can all theſe produce, but Love with the ut [...] Paſſion? O there the Criminal Word is [...] and yet ſhe cannot be diſpleaſed, though [...] without Virtue, without Wit, with little [...] ⯑putation, might pretend to be angry.

Were it too much for a Man ſhe hath broug [...] to the Brink of Deſpair, for a Man that wo [...] die a Thouſand Deaths to ſerve her, to who [...] Life is a Burthen unleſs ſhe make it eaſier [...] him? O were it too much to beg Leave, wh [...] he ſcarce ever ſees her, when he dare ne [...] ſpeak, that he might ſometimes eaſe his So [...] in a reſpectful Line! Has not every Body ete [...] ⯑nal Opportunities of ſpeaking to her? And [...] I, that ſuffer more than ever Man did, not da [...] almoſt to come near her? I cannot doubt b [...] you will judge impartially upon this Occaſio [...] Is it poſſible, after having gazed upon tho [...] ſearching Eyes, to eſcape their Power? Is i [...] poſſible to hear her Words, and ceaſe adorin [...] her? Is it poſſible to love to the Diſtractio [...] that they do who know her, and not langui [...] eternally after the Sight of her? Is it poſſible, when there is no Hopes of ſeeing her, to ſup⯑port the cruel Abſence without writing to her? I know what you would ſay for you [...] ſelf. Think then what is the miſerable Condi⯑tion of him who ſtruggles with all theſe ſeem⯑ing Impoſſibilities; but to live near her, and [263] be as far from her as the Antipodes! And if I never ſee her only for ſome haſty Moments in an Age, and in theſe Separations not permitted to give the leaſt Eaſe to my diſtracted Soul, O were not Dying preferable to this reſtleſs Life! For I fright my ſelf if I write what I never in⯑tend to ſend, and I awake in Terrors if I but dream of her. My hard Fa [...]e condemns me to adore her in all the oppoſite and moſt torment⯑ [...]ng Circumſtances of Love, with a Diſtraction [...]eading to Madneſs, yet with a Reſervedneſs that would ſhame Philoſophy, and with a Re⯑ſpect might ſuffice a Deity; with an Impatience that gives an eternal Rack to my Soul, yet could I wait Hours, Days, and Weeks, for one Moment's Sight of her. O the falſe Fires with which the perſecuting Fops afflict your Sex! Every Way falſe! They are not ſuch as warm my Breaſt. Though I could leap through Flames to come to her, and not feel more Heat; though I could ſwim through Seas, and not quench the Flame; yet I love with that Cool⯑neſs and Temper, with that Command over my Paſſion, that, rather than bring her to the leaſt Inconveniency, I would renounce the ut⯑moſt Happineſs if it were in my Reach. One would think this were enough to be allowed the moſt paſſionate, the moſt miſerable of Men. Miſery beyond this is hardly to be conceived. This ſeems Torment enough in Love to drag an afflicted Heart through ſo many diſtracted Fears for ſuch an Eternity: But to have lived accuſed of having deſerved her Anger, to think I was accounted Criminal, that knew the ten⯑der faithful Paſſion of my Soul; to live thus for Ages, for many Months without obtaining one happy to be juſtified, without doing any Thing raſh or indiſcreet to ſhow my Innocence: This you will ſure allow to have been Torment and Diſcretion beyond any Example.

[264] But I eternally find Fault with the faint D [...] ⯑ſcriptions I make of what I ſuffer, and ſhou [...] have an eternal Task indeed, were I to begi [...] again till I could ſatisfy my ſelf in what I ſay [...] her I love. This, and this alone, juſtifies [...] forbidding the Attempt, ſince ſhe only forbi [...] what Impoſſibility prevents; for were my Pa [...] ⯑ſion to be deſcribed, it would not be unfit [...] her to hear. Not to complain, and endure [...] much, is impoſſible; but to hope for C [...] without being able to deſcribe the Diſea [...] ſeems Madneſs; therefore, alas I ask, I ſee [...] I hope for none. Let her but give me Opi [...] to allay my Grief, and only help me langui [...] out Life in leſs painful Love. What Word [...] what Language can expreſs my paſſionate R [...] ⯑ſpect, or give the leaſt Idea of the Diſtracti [...] of my Soul? She methinks, and ſhe alone th [...] is capable of creating it, might conceive i [...] O were it but conceived, I ſhould not wholl [...] be left unpitied in the wretched Impoſſibility [...] one Moment's Happineſs or Quiet! She wou [...] think with ſome Conſcience, that from the fir [...] Moment I ſaw, I heard her ſpeak, I have la [...] ⯑guiſhed out my Life in never-ceaſing Uneaſ [...] ⯑neſs. Racks are forbidden for our Bodies b [...] our Laws, and is it lawful for her to torme [...] and crueify my Soul? Againſt the happy M [...] ⯑ment that I ſee her next, may ſome genero [...] Friend adviſe her to conſult that Heart of her [...] which would ſhew more Compaſſion where i [...] were leſs neceſſary: Let her conſider, whethe [...] there is nothing due to that faithful Slave, wh [...] at all Times, in all Places lives, but dying fo [...] her.