CHAPTER XI.

ENGLISH ESSAYISTS OF THE GEORGIAN ERA.

Early Essayists whose Writings have furnished Thackeray with the Accessories of Portions of his Novels and Lectures -- Works from the Novelist's Library, elucidating his Course of Reading for the Preparation of his 'Lectures' -- 'Henry Esmond,' 'The Virginians,' &c. -- Characteristic Passages from the Lucubrations of the Essayists of the Augustan Era illustrated with original marginal Sketches, suggested by the Text, by Thackeray's Hand -- The 'Tatler' -- Its History and Influence -- Reforms introduced by the purer Style of the Essayists -- The Literature of Queen Anne's Reign -- Thackeray's Love for the Writings of that Period -- His Gift of reproducing their masterly and simple Style of Composition; their Irony, and playful Humour -- Extracts from notable Essays; illustrated with original Pencillings from the Series of the 'Tatler,' 1709.

The commencement of the eighteenth century has been christened the Augustan Era of English literature, from the brilliant assembly of writers, pre-eminent for their wit, genius, and cultivation, who then enriched our literature with a perfectly original school of humour.

The essayists, to whose accomplished parts we are indebted for the 'Tatlers,' 'Spectators,' 'Guardians,' 'Humorists,' 'Worlds,' 'Connoisseurs,' 'Mirrors,' 'Adventurers,' 'Observers,' 'Loungers,' 'Lookers-on,' 'Ramblers,' and kindred papers, which picture the many-coloured scenes of our society and literature, have conferred a lasting benefit upon posterity by the sterling merit of their writings. It has been justly said that these essays, by their intrinsic worth, have outlived many revolutions of taste, and have attained unrivalled popularity and classic fame, while multitudes of their contemporaries, successors, and imitators have perished with the accidents or caprices of fashion.

The general purpose of the essayists as laid down by Steele, who may be considered foremost among the originators of the familiar school of writing, 'was to expose the false arts of life, to pull off the disguises of cunning, vanity, and affectation, and to recommend a general simplicity in our dress, our discourse, and our behaviour.' Bickerstaff's lucubrations were directed to good-humoured exposures of those freaks and vagaries of life, 'too trivial for the chastisement of the law and too fantastical for the cognisance of the pulpit,' of those failings, according to Addison's summary of their purpose in the 'Spectator' (No. 34), thus harmonised by Pope:--

Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, Yet touched and shamed by Ridicule alone.

The graceful philosophers, polished wits and playful satirists exerted their abilities to supply 'those temporary demands and casual exigencies, overlooked by graver writers and more bulky theorists,' to bring, in the language of Addison, 'philosophy out of closets and libraries, schools and colleges, to dwell in clubs and assemblies, at tea-tables and in coffee-houses.'

'The method of conveying cheap and easy knowledge began among us in the civil wars, when it was much the interest of either party to raise and fix the prejudices of the people.' It was in this spirit that the oft-mentioned Mercuries, 'Mercurius Aulicus,' 'Mercurius Rusticus,' and 'Mercurius Civicus' first appeared.

A hint of the original plan of the 'Tatler' may in some degree be traced to Defoe's 'Review; consisting of a Scandal Club, on Questions of Theology, Morals, Politics, Trade, Language, Poetry, &c.,' published about the year 1703.

'The "Tatler,"' writes Dr. Chalmers, 'like many other ancient superstructures, rose from small beginnings. It does not appear that the author (Steele) foresaw to what perfection this method of writing could be brought. By dividing each paper into compartments, he appears to have consulted the ease with which an author may say a little upon many subjects, who has neither leisure nor inclination to enter deeply on a single topic. This, however, did not proceed either from distrust in his abilities, or in the favour of the public; for he at once addressed them with confidence and familiarity; but it is probable that he did not foresee to what perfection the continued practice of writing will frequently lead a man whose natural endowments are wit and eloquence, superadded to a knowledge of the world, and a habit of observation.'

The first number of the 'Tatler' bore the motto,

Quicquid agunt homines-- nostri est farrago libelli.--Juv. Sat. I. 85, 86.

Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream, Our motley paper seizes for its theme.

The original sheet appeared on Tuesday, April 12, 1709,[13] and the days of its publication were fixed to be Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. 'In the selection of a name for the work, Steele affords an early instance of delicate raillery, by informing us that the name "Tatler" was invented in _honour_ of the fair sex; and that in such a character he might indulge with impunity the desultory plan he first laid down, with a becoming imitation of the tattle and gossip of the day.' The first four numbers were given gratis, the price was then fixed at a penny, which was afterwards doubled.

Steele, whose humour was most happily adapted to his task, assumed as censor of manners the alias of Isaac Bickerstaff. 'Throughout the whole work,' writes Beattie, 'the conjuror, the politician, the man of humour, the critic; the seriousness of the moralist, and the mock dignity of the astrologer; the vivacities and infirmities peculiar to old age, are all so blended and contrasted in the censor of Great Britain as to form a character equally complex and natural, equally laughable and respectable,' and as the editor declares, in his proper person, 'the attacks upon prevailing and fashionable vices had been carried forward by Mr. Bickerstaff with a freedom of spirit that would have lost its attraction and efficacy, had it been pretended to by _Mr. Steele_.'

A scarce pamphlet, attributed to Gay, draws attention to the high moral and philosophic purpose which was entertained originally. 'There was this difference between Steele and all the rest of the polite and gallant authors of the time: the latter endeavoured to please the age by falling in with them, and encouraging them in their fashionable vices and false notions of things. It would have been a jest some time since for a man to have asserted that anything witty could have been said in praise of a married state; or that devotion and virtue were any way necessary to the character of a fine gentleman. Bickerstaff ventured to tell the town that they were a parcel of fops, fools, and vain coquettes; but in such a manner as even pleased them, and made them more than half inclined to believe that he spoke truth.'

The humorists of the Augustan era were, as the world knows, peculiar objects of regard to the great writer of 'Roundabout Essays' in the age of Queen Victoria. Novels, lectures, and reviews alike prove the industry and affection with which Thackeray conducted his researches amidst the veins of singular richness and congenial material opened to him by the lives and writings of these famous essayists, in such profusion that selection became a point of real art.

It is not difficult to trace the results of Thackeray's reading among his favourite writers, or to watch its influence on his own compositions. Nor did his regard for these sources of inspiration pass the bounds of reasonable admiration; he argues convincingly of the authentic importance of his chosen authorities.

From his minute and intelligent studies of the works of these genial humorists Thackeray acquired a remarkable facility of thinking, spontaneously acknowledged by all his contemporaries, with the felicitous aptitude of the originals, and learned to express his conceptions in language simple, lucid, and sparkling as the outpourings from those pure fonts for which his eagerness may be said to have been unquenched to the end of his career.

That artist-like local colouring which gives such scholarly value to 'Henry Esmond,' to the 'Virginians,' to the 'Humorists of the Eighteenth Century,' and which was no less manifest in the work which engaged his thoughts when Death lightly touched the novelist's hand, furnishes the evidence of Thackeray's familiarity with, and command of, the quaintest, wittiest, wisest, and pleasantest writings in our language.

It will be felt by readers who realise Thackeray in his familiar association with the kindred early humorists, that the merry passages his pencil has italicised by droll marginal sketches are, with all their suggestive slightness, in no degree unworthy of the conceits to which they give a new interest; while in some cases, with playful whimsicality, they present a reading entirely novel. The fidelity of costume and appointments, even in this miniature state, confirms the diligence and thought with which the author of 'Henry Esmond' pursued every detail which illustrated his cherished period, and which might serve as a basis for its consistent reconstruction, to carry his reader far back up the stream of time.

The necessity of compressing within the limits of this volume our selections from the comparatively exhaustless field of the humorous essayists, necessarily renders the paragraphs elucidated by Thackeray's quaint etchings somewhat fragmentary and abrupt, while the miscellaneous nature of the topics thus indiscriminately touched on may be best set forth according to the advertisement with which Swift ushered in his memorable 'Number One':

'All accounts of gallantry, pleasure, and entertainment shall be under the article of _White's Chocolate-house_;[14] poetry, under that of _Will's Coffee-house_;[15] learning, under the title of _Grecian_;[16] foreign and domestic news, you will have from _Saint James's Coffee-house_; and what else I have to offer on any other subject shall be dated from my own apartment.[17]

'I once more desire my reader to consider, that as I cannot keep an ingenious man to go daily to Will's under twopence each day, merely for his charges; to White's, under sixpence; nor to the Grecian, without allowing him some plain Spanish, to be as able as others at the learned table; and that a good observer cannot speak with even Kidney (the waiter) at St. James's without clean linen; I say, these considerations will, I hope, make all persons willing to comply with my humble request (when my _gratis_ stock is exhausted) of a penny apiece; especially since they are sure of some proper amusement, and that it is impossible for me to want means to entertain them, having, besides the force of my own parts, the power of divination, and that I can, by casting a figure, tell you all that may happen before it comes to pass.'

No. 5. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 21, 1709_.

Who names that lost thing love without a tear, Since so debauch'd by ill-bred customs here? To an exact perfection they have brought The action love, the passion is forgot.

'This was long ago a witty author's lamentation, but the evil still continues; and if a man of any delicacy were to attend the discourses of the young fellows of this age, he would believe there were none but the fallen to make the objects of passion. So true it is what the author of the above verses said, a little before his death, of the modern pretenders to gallantry: "They set up for wits in this age, by saying, when they are sober, what they of the last spoke only when they were drunk." But Cupid is not only blind at present, but dead drunk; and he has lost all his faculties; else how should Celia be so long a maid, with that agreeable behaviour? Corinna, with that sprightly wit? Serbia, with that heavenly voice? and Sacharissa, with all those excellences in one person, frequent the park, the play, and murder the poor Tits that drag her to public places, and not a man turn pale at her appearance? But such is the fallen state of love, that if it were not for honest Cynthio, who is true to the cause, we should hardly have a pattern left of the ancient worthies in that way; and indeed he has but very little encouragement to persevere. Though Cynthio has wit, good sense, fortune, and his very being depends upon her, the termagant for whom he sighs is in love with a fellow who stares in the glass all the time he is with her, and lets her plainly see she may possibly be his rival, but never his mistress. Yet Cynthio pleases himself with a vain imagination that, with the language of his eyes, now he has found out who she is, he shall conquer her, though her eyes are intent upon one who looks from her, which is ordinary with the sex.

'It is certainly a mistake in the ancients to draw the little gentleman Love as a blind boy, for his real character is a little thief that squints; for ask Mrs. Meddle, who is a confidante or spy upon all the passions in town, and she will tell you that the whole is a game of cross purposes. The lover is generally pursuing one who is in pursuit of another, and running from one that desires to meet him. Nay, the nature of this passion is so justly represented in a squinting little thief (who is always in a double action), that do but observe Clarissa next time you see her, and you will find, when her eyes have made their soft tour round the company she makes no stay on him they say she is to marry, but rests two seconds of a minute on Wildair, who neither looks nor thinks on her or any woman else. However, Cynthio had a bow from her the other day, upon which he is very much come to himself; and I heard him send his man of an errand yesterday, without any manner of hesitation; a quarter of an hour after which he reckoned twenty, remembered he was to sup with a friend, and went exactly to his appointment. I sent to know how he did this morning, and I find he hath not forgotten that he spoke to me yesterday.'

No. 9. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 30, 1709_.

Pastorella, a lively young lady of eighteen, was under the charge of an aunt, who was anxious to keep her ward in safety, if possible, from herself and her admirers. 'At the same time the good lady knew, by long experience, that a gay inclination curbed too rashly would but run to the greater excesses; she therefore made use of an ingenious expedient to avoid the anguish of an admonition. You are to know, then, that Miss, with all her flirting and ogling, had also a strong curiosity in her, and was the greatest eaves-dropper breathing. Parisatis (for so her prudent aunt is called) observed this humour, and retires one day to her closet, into which she knew Pastorella would peep and listen to know how she was employed. It happened accordingly; and the young lady saw her good governante on her knees, and, after a _mental behaviour_, break into these words: "As for the dear child committed to my care, let her sobriety of carriage and severity of behaviour be such as may make that noble lord, who is taken with her beauty, turn his designs to such as are honourable." Here Parisatis heard her niece nestle closer to the key-hole. She then goes on: "Make her the joyful mother of a numerous and wealthy offspring; and let her carriage be such as may make this noble youth expect the blessings of a happy marriage, from the singularity of her life, in this loose and censorious age." Miss, having heard enough, sneaks off for fear of discovery, and immediately at her glass, alters the setting of her head; then pulls up her tucker, and forms herself into the exact manner of Lindamira; in a word, becomes a sincere convert to everything that is commendable in a fine young lady; and two or three such matches as her aunt feigned in her devotions are at this day in her choice. This is the history and original cause of Pastorella's conversion from coquetry.

'I scarce remember a greater instance of forbearance in the usual peevish way with which the aged treat the young than this, except that of our famous Noy, whose good nature went so far as to make him put off his admonitions to his son even until after his death; and did not give him his thoughts of him until he came to read that memorable passage in his will: "All the rest of my estate," says he, "I leave to my son Edward, to be squandered as he shall think fit; I leave it him for that purpose, and hope no better from him." A generous disdain, and reflection how little he deserved from so excellent a father, reformed the young man, and made Edward, from an arrant rake, become a fine gentleman.'

No. 23. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 2, 1709_.

The 'Tatler' relates the instance of a lady who had governed one husband by falling into fits when he opposed her will. Death released this gentleman, and the lady consoled herself quickly with a very agreeable successor, whom she determined to manage by the same method. 'This man knew her little arts, and resolved to break through all tenderness, and be absolute master as soon as occasion offered. One day it happened that a discourse arose about furniture; he was very glad of the occasion, and fell into an invective against china, protesting that he would never let five pounds more of his money be laid out that way as long as he breathed. She immediately fainted--he starts up, as amazed, and calls for help--the maids run up to the closet. He chafes her face, bends her forward, and beats the palms of her hands; her convulsions increase, and down she tumbles on the floor, where she lies quite dead, in spite of what the whole family, from the nursery to the kitchen, could do for her relief. The kind man doubles his care, helps the servants to throw water into her face by full quarts; and when the sinking part of the fit came again, "Well, my dear," says he, "I applaud your action; but none of your artifices; you are quite in other hands than those you passed these pretty passions upon. I must take leave of you until you are more sincere with me: farewell for ever." He was scarce at the stair-head when she followed, and thanked him for her cure, which was so absolute that she gave me this relation herself, to be communicated for the benefit of all the voluntary invalids of her sex.'

No. 24. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 4, 1709_.

The 'Tatler' is discoursing of 'pretty fellows,' and 'very pretty fellows,' and enlarging on the qualifications essential to fit them for the characters.

'Give me leave, then, to mention three, whom I do not doubt but we shall see make considerable figures; and these are such as for their Bacchanalian performances must be admitted into this order. They are three brothers, lately landed from Holland; as yet, indeed, they have not made their public entry, but lodge and converse at Wapping. They have merited already, on the waterside, particular titles: the first is called Hogshead; the second, Culverin; and the third, Musquet. This fraternity is preparing for our end of the town, by their ability in the exercises of Bacchus, and measure their time and merit by liquid weight and power of drinking. Hogshead is a prettier fellow than Culverin, by two quarts; and Culverin than Musquet, by a full pint. It is to be feared Hogshead is so often too full, and Culverin overloaded, that Musquet will be the only lasting very pretty fellow of the three.'

No. 28. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 14, 1709._

'_To the "Tatler."_--Sir,--I desire the favour of you to decide this question, whether calling a gentleman a smart fellow is an affront or not? A youth, entering a certain coffee-house, with his cane tied to his button, wearing red-heeled shoes, I thought of your description, and could not forbear telling a friend of mine next to me, "There enters a smart fellow." The gentleman hearing it, had immediately a mind to pick a quarrel with me, and desired satisfaction; at which I was more puzzled than at the other, remembering what mention your familiar makes of those that had lost their lives on such occasions. The thing is referred to your judgment; and I expect you to be my second, since you have been the cause of our quarrel.--I am, Sir, &c.'

'Now what possible insinuation can there be, that it is a cause of quarrel for a man to say he allows a gentleman really to be what his tailor, his hosier, and his milliner have conspired to make him? I confess, if this person who appeals to me had said he was "not a smart fellow," there had been cause for resentment.'

No. 34. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 28, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff has been working certain wonderful effects by prescribing his _circumspection-water_, which has cured Mrs. Spy of rolling her eyes about in public places. Lady Petulant had made use of it to cure her husband's jealousy, and Lady Gad has cured a whole neighbourhood of detraction.

'The fame of these things,' continues the Censor-General, 'added to my being an old fellow, makes me extremely acceptable to the fair sex. You would hardly believe me when I tell you there is not a man in town so much their delight as myself. They make no more of visiting me than going to Madam Depingle's; there were two of them, namely, Dainia and Clidamira (I assure you women of distinction), who came to see me this morning, in their way to prayers; and being in a very diverting humour (as innocence always makes people cheerful), they would needs have me, according to the distinction of pretty and very pretty fellows, inform them if I thought either of them had a title to the very pretty among those of their own sex; and if I did, which was the most deserving of the two?

'To put them to the trial, "Look ye," said I, "I must not rashly give my judgment in matters of this importance; pray let me see you dance; I play upon the kit." They immediately fell back to the lower end of the room (you may be sure they curtsied low enough to me), and began. Never were two in the world so equally matched, and both scholars to my namesake Isaac.[18] Never was man in so dangerous a condition as myself, when they began to expand their charms. "Oh! ladies, ladies," cried I; "not half that air; you will fire the house!" Both smiled, for, by-the-bye, there is no carrying a metaphor too far when a lady's charms are spoken of. Somebody, I think, has called a fine woman dancing "a brandished torch of beauty." These rivals move with such an agreeable freedom that you would believe their gesture was the necessary effect of the music, and not the product of skill and practice. Now Clidamira came on with a crowd of graces, and demanded my judgment with so sweet an air--and she had no sooner carried it, but Dainia made her utterly forgot, by a gentle sinking and a rigadoon step. The contest held a full half hour; and, I protest, I saw no manner of difference in their perfections until they came up together and expected sentence. "Look ye, ladies," said I, "I see no difference in the least in your performances; but you, Clidamira, seem to be so well satisfied that I should determine for you, that I must give it to Dainia, who stands with so much diffidence and fear, after showing an equal merit to what she pretends to. Therefore, Clidamira, you are a pretty, but, Dainia, you are a very pretty lady; for," said I, "beauty loses its force if not accompanied with modesty. She that hath an humble opinion of herself, will have everybody's applause, because she does not expect it; while the vain creature loses approbation through too great a sense of deserving it."'

No. 36. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 2, 1709._

The 'Tatler' inserts a letter on termagant wives and sporting tastes:--

'Epsom, June 28.

'It is now almost three weeks since what you writ about happened in this place. The quarrel between my friends did not run so high as I find your accounts have made it. You are to understand that the persons concerned in this scene were Lady Autumn and Lady Springly. Autumn is a person of good breeding, formality, and a singular way practised in the last age; and Lady Springly, a modern impertinent of our sex, who affects as improper a familiarity as the other does distance. These heroines have married two brothers, both knights. Springly is the spouse of the elder, who is a baronet, and Autumn, being a rich widow, has taken the younger, and her purse endowed him with an equal fortune, and knighthood of the same order. This jumble of titles, you need not doubt, has been an aching torment to Autumn, who took place of the other on no pretence but her carelessness and disregard of distinction. The secret occasion of envy broiled long in the breast of Autumn; but no opportunity of contention on that subject happening, kept all things quiet until the accident of which you demand an account.

'It was given out among all the gay people of this place, that on the ninth instant several damsels, swift of foot, were to run for a suit of head-cloaths at the Old Wells. Lady Autumn, on this occasion, invited Springly to go with her in her coach to see the race. When they came to the place, where the Governor of Epsom and all his court of citizens were assembled, as well as a crowd of people of all orders, a brisk young fellow addressed himself to the younger of the ladies, viz. Springly, and offers her his services to conduct her into the music-room. Springly accepts the compliment, and is led triumphantly through a bowing crowd, while Autumn is left among the rabble, and has much ado to get back into her coach; but she did it at last, and as it is usual to see, by the horses, my lady's present disposition, she orders John to whip furiously home to her husband; where, when she enters, down she sits, began to unpin her hood, and lament her foolish fond heart to marry into a family where she was so little regarded. Lady Springly, an hour or two after, returns from the Wells, and finds the whole company together. Down she sat, and a profound silence ensued. You know a premeditated quarrel usually begins and works up with the words _some people_. The silence was broken by Lady Autumn, who began to say, "There are some people who fancy, that if some people"--Springly immediately takes her up, "There are some people who fancy, if other people"--Autumn repartees, "People may give themselves airs; but other people, perhaps, who make less ado, may be, perhaps, as agreeable as people who set themselves out more." All the other people at the table sat mute, while these two people, who were quarrelling, went on with the use of the word _people_, instancing the very accidents between them, as if they kept only in distant hints. Therefore, says Autumn, reddening, "There are some people will go abroad in other people's coaches, and leave those with whom they went to shift for themselves; and if, perhaps, those people have married the younger brother, yet, perhaps, he may be beholden to those people for what he is." Springly smartly answers, "People may bring so much ill humour into a family, as people may repent their receiving their money," and goes on--"Everybody is not considerable enough to give her uneasiness."

'Upon this Autumn comes up to her, and desired her to kiss her, and never to see her again; which her sister refusing, my lady gave her a box on the ear. Springly returns, "Ay, ay," said she, "I knew well enough you meant me by your some people;" and gives her another on the other side. To it they went, with most masculine fury; each husband ran in. The wives immediately fell upon their husbands, and tore periwigs and cravats. The company interposed; when (according to the slip-knot of matrimony, which makes them return to one another when anyone puts in between) the ladies and their husbands fell upon all the rest of the company; and, having beat all their friends and relations out of the house, came to themselves time enough to know there was no bearing the jest of the place after these adventures, and therefore marched off the next day. It is said, the governor has sent several joints of mutton, and has proposed divers dishes, very exquisitely dressed, to bring them down again. From his address and knowledge in roast and boiled, all our hopes of the return of this good company depend.

'I am, dear Jenny, 'Your ready friend and servant, 'MARTHA TATLER.'

No. 37. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 5, 1709._

The 'Tatler' is discoursing of country squires, with fox-hunting tastes, and how in their rough music of the field they outdo the best Italian singers for noise and volume. One of these worthies is described on a visit in genteel society in town. 'Mr. Bellfrey being at a visit where I was, viz. at his cousin's (Lady Dainty's), in Soho Square, was asked what entertainments they had in the country. Now, Bellfrey is very ignorant, and much a clown; but confident withal: in a word, he struck up a fox-chase; Lady Dainty's dog, Mr. Sippet, as she calls him, started, jumped out of his lady's lap, and fell a barking. Bellfrey went on, and called all the neighbouring parishes into the square. Never was woman in such confusion as that delicate lady; but there was no stopping her kinsman. A roomful of ladies fell into the most violent laughter; my lady looked as if she was shrieking; Mr. Sippet, in the middle of the room, breaking his heart with barking, but all of us unheard. As soon as Bellfrey became silent, up gets my lady, and takes him by the arm, to lead him off. Bellfrey was in his boots. As she was hurrying him away, his spurs take hold of her petticoat; his whip throws down a cabinet of china: he cries, "What! are your crocks rotten? are your petticoats ragged? A man cannot walk in your house for trincums."'

No. 38. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 7, 1709._

The practice of duelling had been early discountenanced by the 'Tatler.' An altercation after a stock-broking transaction was settled in the fashion thus reported in its pages:--

'... However, having sold the bear, and words arising about the delivery, the most noble major, according to method, abused the other with the titles of rogue, villain, bear-skin man, and the like. Whereupon satisfaction was demanded and accepted, and forth they marched to a most spacious room in the sheriff's house, where, having due regard to what you have lately published, yet not willing to put up with affronts without satisfaction, they stripped and in decent manner fought full fairly with their wrathful hands. The combat lasted a quarter of an hour; in which time victory was often doubtful, until the major, finding his adversary obstinate, unwilling to give him further chastisement, with most shrill voice cried out, "I am satisfied! enough!" whereupon the combat ceased, and both were friends immediately.'

No. 41. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 14, 1709._

A battle fought in the very streets of London by the Volunteers of 1709, from their head-quarters, the Artillery Ground, Moorgate, is thus described by one of the Grub Street auxiliaries:--

'Indeed, I am extremely concerned for the lieutenant-general, who by his overthrow and defeat is made a deplorable instance of the fortune of war, and the vicissitudes of human affairs. He, alas! has lost in Beech Lane and Chiswell Street all the glory he lately gained in and about Holborn and St. Giles's. The art of sub-dividing first and dividing afterwards is new and surprising; and according to this method the troops are disposed in King's Head Court and Red Lion Market, nor is the conduct of these leaders less conspicuous in the choice of the ground or field of battle. Happy was it that the greatest part of the achievements of this day was to be performed near Grub Street, that there might not be wanting a sufficient number of faithful historians who, being eye-witnesses of these wonders, should impartially transmit them to posterity! but then it can never be enough regretted that we are left in the dark as to the name and title of that extraordinary hero who commanded the divisions in Paul's Alley; especially because those divisions are justly styled brave, and accordingly were to push the enemy along Bunhill Row, and thereby occasion a general battle. But Pallas appeared, in the form of a shower of rain, and prevented the slaughter and desolation which were threatened by these extraordinary preparations.'

No. 45. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 23, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff, having paid a visit to Oxford, has spent the evening with some merry wits, and, after his custom, he relates the adventures of the evening to furnish a paper for the 'Tatler':--

'I am got hither safe, but never spent time with so little satisfaction as this evening; for, you must know, I was five hours with three merry and two honest fellows. The former sang catches and the latter even died with laughing at the noise they made. "Well," says Tom Bellfrey, "you scholars, Mr. Bickerstaff, are the worst company in the world." "Ay," says his opposite, "you are dull to-night; prythee, be merry." With that I huzzaed, and took a jump across the table, then came clever upon my legs, and fell a laughing. "Let Mr. Bickerstaff alone," says one of the honest fellows; "when he is in a good humour, he is as good company as any man in England." He had no sooner spoke, but I snatched his hat off his head, and clapped it upon my own, and burst out a laughing again; upon which we all fell a laughing for half an hour. One of the honest fellows got behind me in the interim and hit me a sound slap on the back; upon which he got the laugh out of my hands; and it was such a twang on my shoulders, that I confess he was much merrier than I. I was half angry, but resolved to keep up the good humour of the company; and after hallooing as loud as I could possibly, I drank off a bumper of claret that made me stare again. "Nay," says one of the honest fellows, "Mr. Isaac is in the right; there is no conversation in this: what signifies jumping or hitting one another on the back? let us drink about." We did so from seven of the clock until eleven; and now I am come hither, and, after the manner of the wise Pythagoras, began to reflect upon the passages of the day. I remember nothing but that I am bruised to death; and as it is my way to write down all the good things I have heard in the last conversation, to furnish my paper, I can from this only tell you my sufferings and my bangs.'

No. 46. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 26, 1709._

Aurengezebe, a modern Eastern potentate, is described as amusing his later years by playing the grand Turk to the Sultanas of Little Britain.

'There is,' proceeds the account, 'a street near Covent Garden known by the name of Drury, which, before the days of Christianity, was purchased by the Queen of Paphos, and is the only part of Great Britain where the tenure of vassalage is still in being.... This seraglio is disposed into convenient alleys and apartments, and every house, from the cellar to the garret, inhabited by nymphs of different orders.

'Here it is that, when Aurengezebe thinks fit to give loose to dalliance, the purveyors prepare the entertainment; and what makes it more august is, that every person concerned in the interlude has his set part, and the prince sends beforehand word what he designs to say, and directs also the very answer which shall be made to him.

'The entertainment is introduced by the matron of the temple; whereon an unhappy nymph, who is to be supposed just escaped from the hands of a ravisher, with her tresses dishevelled, runs into the room with a dagger in her hand, and falls before the emperor.

'"Pity, oh! pity, whoever thou art, an unhappy virgin, whom one of thy train has robbed of her innocence; her innocence, which was all her portion--or rather let me die like the memorable Lucretia!" Upon which she stabs herself. The body is immediately examined, Lucretia recovers by a cup of right Nantz, and the matron, who is her next relation, stops all process at law.'

Similar extraordinary entertainments continue the evening, which concludes in a distribution of largesse by the fictitious sultan.

No. 47. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 28, 1709._

The 'Tatler' describes an incident of Sir Taffety Trippet, a fortune-hunter, whose follies, according to Mr. Bickerstaff, are too gross to give diversion; and whose vanity is too stupid to let him be sensible that he is a public offence.

'It happened that, when he first set up for a fortune-hunter, he chose Tunbridge for the scene of action, where were at that time two sisters upon the same design. The knight believed, of course, the elder must be the better prize; and consequently makes all sail that way. People that want sense do always in an egregious manner want modesty, which made our hero triumph in making his amour as public as was possible. The adored lady was no less vain of his public addresses. An attorney with one cause is not half so restless as a woman with one lover. Wherever they met, they talked to each other aloud, chose each other partner at balls, saluted at the most conspicuous part of the service of the church, and practised, in honour of each other, all the remarkable particularities which are usual for persons who admire one another, and are contemptible to the rest of the world. These two lovers seemed as much made for each other as Adam and Eve, and all pronounced it a match of nature's own making; but the night before the nuptials, so universally approved, the younger sister, envious of the good fortune even of her sister, who had been present at most of the interviews, and had an equal taste for the charm of a fop, as there are a set of women made for that order of men; the younger, I say, unable to see so rich a prize pass by her, discovered to Sir Taffety that a coquet air, much tongue, and three suits was all the portion of his mistress. His love vanished that moment; himself and equipage the next morning.'

No. 52. THE 'TATLER.'--_Aug. 9, 1709._

'DELAMIRA RESIGNS HER FAN.

'When the beauteous Delamira had published her intention of entering the bonds of matrimony, the matchless Virgulta, whose charms had made no satires, thus besought her to confide the secret of her triumphs:--

'"Delamira! you are now going into that state of life wherein the use of your charms is wholly to be applied to the pleasing only one man. That swimming air of your body, that jaunty bearing of your head over one shoulder, and that inexpressible beauty in your manner of playing your fan, must be lowered into a more confined behaviour, to show that you would rather shun than receive addresses for the future. Therefore, dear Delamira, give me those excellences you leave off, and acquaint me with your manner of charming; for I take the liberty of our friendship to say, that when I consider my own stature, motion, complexion, wit, or breeding, I cannot think myself any way your inferior; yet do I go through crowds without wounding a man, and all my acquaintance marry round me while I live a virgin masked, and I think unregarded."

'Delamira heard her with great attention, and, with that dexterity which is natural to her, told her that "all she had above the rest of her sex and contemporary beauties was wholly owing to a fan (that was left her by her mother, and had been long in the family), which whoever had in possession and used with skill, should command the hearts of all her beholders; and since," said she, smiling, "I have no more to do with extending my conquests or triumphs, I will make you a present of this inestimable rarity." Virgulta made her expressions of the highest gratitude for so uncommon a confidence in her, and desired she would "show her what was peculiar in the management of that utensil, which rendered it of such general force when she was mistress of it." Delamira replied, "You see, madam, Cupid is the principal figure painted on it; and the skill in playing the fan is, in your several motions of it, to let him appear as little as possible; for honourable lovers fly all endeavours to ensnare them, and your Cupid must hide his bow and arrow, or he will never be sure of his game. You observe," continued she, "that in all public assemblies the sexes seem to separate themselves, and draw up to attack each other with eye-shot: that is the time when the fan, which is all the armour of a woman, is of most use in our defence; for our minds are construed by the waving of that little instrument, and our thoughts appear in composure or agitation according to the motion of it."'

No. 57. THE 'TATLER.'--_Aug. 20, 1709._

The 'Tatler' transcribes from La Bruyère an extract, which he introduces as 'one of the most elegant pieces of raillery and satire.' La Bruyère describes the French as if speaking of a people not yet discovered, in the air and style of a traveller:--

'I have heard talk of a country where the old men are gallant, polite, and civil; the young men, on the contrary, stubborn, wild, without either manners or civility. Amongst these people, he is sober who is never drunk with anything but wine; the too frequent use of it having rendered it flat and insipid to them: they endeavour by brandy, or other strong liquors, to quicken their taste, already extinguished, and want nothing to complete their debauches but to drink aqua-fortis. The women of that country hasten the decay of their beauty by their artifices to preserve it; they paint their cheeks, eye-brows, and shoulders, which they lay open, together with their breasts, arms, and ears, as if they were afraid to hide those places which they think will please, and never think they show enough of them.

'The physiognomies of the people of that country are not at all neat, but confused and embarrassed with a bundle of strange hair, which they prefer before their natural; with this they weave something to cover their heads, which descends half way down their bodies, hides their features, and hinders you from knowing men by their faces. This nation has, besides this, their god and their king.

'The grandees go every day, at a certain hour, to a temple they call a church: at the upper end of that temple there stands an altar consecrated to their god, where the priest celebrates some mysteries which they call holy, sacred, and tremendous. The great men make a vast circle at the foot of the altar, standing with their backs to the priests and the holy mysteries, and their faces erected towards their king, who is seen on his knees upon a throne, and to whom they seem to direct the desires of their hearts, and all their devotion. However, in this custom there is to be remarked a sort of subordination; for the people appear adoring their prince and their prince adoring God.'

No. 61. THE 'TATLER.'--_Aug. 30, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff is musing on the degeneracy of the fair, and on the changes which beauty has undergone since his youth.

'We have,' he argues, 'no such thing as a standard for good breeding. I was the other day at my Lady Wealthy's, and asked one of her daughters how she did. She answered, "She never conversed with men." The same day I visited at my Lady Plantwell's, and asked her daughter the same question. She answers, "What is that to you, you old thief?" and gives me a slap on the shoulders....

'I will not answer for it, but it may be that I (like other old fellows) have a fondness for the fashions and manners which prevailed when I was young and in fashion myself. But certain it is that the taste of youth and beauty is very much lowered. The fine women they show me now-a-days are at best but pretty girls to me who have seen Sacharissa, when all the world repeated the poems she inspired; and Villaria (the Duchess of Cleveland), when a youthful king was her subject. The _things_ you follow and make songs on now should be sent to knit, or sit down to bobbins or bone-lace: they are indeed neat, and so are their sempstresses; they are pretty, and so are their handmaids. But that graceful motion, that awful mien, and that winning attraction, which grew upon them from the thoughts and conversations they met with in my time, are now no more seen. They tell me I am old: I am glad I am so, for I do not like your present young ladies.'

No. 64. THE 'TATLER.'--_Sept. 6, 1709._

'"*** Lost, from the Cocoa-tree, in Pall Mall, two Irish dogs, belonging to the pack of London; one a tall white wolf dog; the other a black nimble greyhound, not very sound, and supposed to be gone to the Bath, by instinct, for cure. The man of the inn from whence they ran, being now there, is desired, if he meets either of them, to tie them up. Several others are lost about Tunbridge and Epsom, which, whoever will maintain, may keep."'

No. 67. THE 'TATLER.'--_Sept. 13, 1709._

The 'Tatler' proposes to work upon the post, to establish a charitable society, from which there shall go every day circular letters to all parts, within the bills of mortality, to tell people of their faults in a friendly manner, whereby they may know what the world thinks of them. An example follows, which had been already sent, by way of experiment, without success:--

'"Madam,--Let me beg of you to take off the patches at the lower end of your left cheek, and I will allow two more under your left eye, which will contribute more to the symmetry of your face; except you would please to remove the two black atoms on your ladyship's chin, and wear one large patch instead of them. If so, you may properly enough retain the three patches above mentioned. I am, &c."

'This I thought had all the civility and reason in the world in it; but whether my letters are intercepted, or whatever it is, the lady patches as she used to do. It is observed by all the charitable society, as an instruction in their epistles, that they tell people of nothing but what is in their power to mend. I shall give another instance of this way of writing: two sisters in Essex Street are eternally gaping out of the window, as if they knew not the value of time, or would call in companions. Upon which I writ the following line:--

'"Dear Creatures,--On the receipt of this, shut your casements."

'But I went by yesterday, and found them still at the window. What can a man do in this case, but go in and wrap himself up in his own integrity, with satisfaction only in this melancholy truth, that virtue is its own reward; and that if no one is the better for his admonitions, yet he is himself the more virtuous, in that he gave those advices?'

No. 79. THE 'TATLER.'--_Oct. 11, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff's sister Jenny is going to be married. The 'Tatler' tells the following anecdote, as a warning 'to be above trifles:'--

'This, dear Jenny, is the reason that the quarrel between Sir Harry and his lady, which began about her squirrel, is irreconcilable. Sir Harry was reading a grave author; she runs into his study, and, in a playing humour, claps the squirrel upon the folio: he threw the animal, in a rage, on the floor; she snatches it up again, calls Sir Harry a sour pedant, without good nature or good manners. This cast him into such a rage, that he threw down the table before him, kicked the book round the room, then recollected himself: "Lord, madam," said he, "why did you run into such expressions? I was," said he, "in the highest delight with that author when you clapped your squirrel upon my book;" and smiling, added upon recollection, "I have a great respect for your favourite, and pray let us be all friends." My lady was so far from accepting this apology, that she immediately conceived a resolution to keep him under for ever, and, with a serious air, replied, "There is no regard to be had to what a man says who can fall into so indecent a rage and an abject submission in the same moment, for which I absolutely despise you." Upon which she rushed out of the room. Sir Harry stayed some minutes behind, to think and command himself; after which he followed her into her bed-chamber, where she was prostrate upon the bed, tearing her hair, and naming twenty coxcombs who would have used her otherwise. This provoked him to so high a degree that he forbade nothing but beating her; and all the servants in the family were at their several stations listening, whilst the best man and woman, the best master and mistress, defamed each other in a way that is not to be repeated even at Billingsgate. You know this ended in an immediate separation: she longs to return home, but knows not how to do it; and he invites her home every day. Her husband requires no submission of her; but she thinks her very return will argue she is to blame, which she is resolved to be for ever, rather than acknowledge it.'

No. 86. THE 'TATLER.'--_Oct. 27, 1709._

'When I came home last night, my servant delivered me the following letter:--

'"Sir,--I have orders from Sir Harry Quickset, of Staffordshire, Baronet, to acquaint you, that his honour, Sir Harry himself; Sir Giles Wheelbarrow, Knight; Thomas Rentfree, Esquire, justice of the quorum; Andrew Windmill, Esquire; and Mr. Nicolas Doubt, of the Inner Temple, Sir Harry's grandson, will wait upon you at the hour of nine to-morrow morning, being Tuesday, the twenty-fifth of October, upon business which Sir Harry will impart to you by word of mouth. I thought it proper to acquaint you beforehand, so many persons of quality came, that you might not be surprised therewith. Which concludes, though by many years' absence since I saw you at Stafford, unknown, Sir, your most humble servant,

'"JOHN THRIFTY."

'I received this note with less surprise than I believe Mr. Thrifty imagined; for I know the good company too well to feel any palpitations at their approach: but I was in very great concern how I could adjust the ceremonial, and demean myself to all these great men, who perhaps had not seen anything above themselves for these twenty years last past. I am sure that is the case of Sir Harry. Besides which, I was sensible that there was a great point in adjusting my behaviour to the simple squire, so as to give him satisfaction, and not disoblige the justice of the quorum.

'The hour of nine was come this morning, and I had no sooner set chairs, by the steward's letter, and fixed my tea-equipage, but I heard a knock at my door, which was opened, but no one entered; after which followed a long silence, which was at last broken by, "Sir, I beg your pardon; I think I know better:" and another voice, "Nay, good Sir Giles----" I looked out from my window, and saw the good company all with their hats off, and arms spread, offering the door to each other. After many offers, they entered with much solemnity, in the order Mr. Thrifty was so kind as to name them to me. But they had now got to my chamber-door, and I saw my old friend Sir Harry enter. I met him with all the respect due to so reverend a vegetable; for you are to know that is my sense of a person who remains idle in the same place for half a century. I got him with great success into his chair by the fire, without throwing down any of my cups. The knight-bachelor told me, "he had a great respect for my whole family, and would, with my leave, place himself next to Sir Harry, at whose right hand he had sat at every quarter-sessions these thirty years, unless he was sick." The steward in the rear whispered the young templar, "That is true to my knowledge." I had the misfortune, as they stood cheek by jole, to desire the squire to sit down before the justice of the quorum, to the no small satisfaction of the former, and the resentment of the latter. But I saw my error too late, and got them as soon as I could into their seats. "Well," said I, "gentlemen, after I have told you how glad I am of this great honour, I am to desire you to drink a dish of tea." They answered one and all, "that they never drank tea of a morning." "Not drink tea of a morning?" said I, staring round me. Upon which the pert jackanapes, Nic Doubt, tipped me the wink, and put out his tongue at his grandfather. Here followed a profound silence, when the steward, in his boots and whip, proposed, "that we should adjourn to some public house, where everybody might call for what they pleased, and enter upon the business." We all stood up in an instant, and Sir Harry filed off from the left, very discreetly, countermarching behind the chairs towards the door. After him Sir Giles, in the same manner. The simple squire made a sudden start to follow; but the justice of the quorum whipped between upon the stand of the stairs. A maid, going up with coals, made us halt, and put us into such confusion that we stood all in a heap, without any visible possibility of recovering our order; for the young jackanapes seemed to make a jest of this matter, and had so contrived, by pressing in amongst us, under pretence of making way, that his grandfather was got into the middle, and he knew nobody was of quality to stir a step until Sir Harry moved first. We were fixed in this perplexity for some time, until we heard a very loud noise in the street; and Sir Harry asking what it was, I, to make them move, said, "it was fire." Upon this all ran down as fast as they could, without order or ceremony, until we got into the street, where we drew up in very good order, and filed down Sheer Lane; the impertinent templar driving us before him as in a string, and pointing to his acquaintance who passed by. When we came to Dick's coffee-house we were at our old difficulty, and took up the street upon the same ceremony. We proceeded through the entry, and were so necessarily kept in order by the situation that we were now got into the coffee-house itself; where, as soon as we arrived, we repeated our civilities to each other: after which we marched up to the high table, which has an ascent to it inclosed in the middle of the room. The whole house was alarmed at this entry, made up of persons of so much state and rusticity. Sir Harry called for a mug of ale and "Dyer's Letter." The boy brought the ale in an instant, but said, "they did not take in the letter." "No!" says Sir Harry, "then take back your mug; we are like indeed to have good liquor at this house!" Here the templar tipped me a second wink, and, if I had not looked very grave upon him, I found he was disposed to be very familiar with me. In short, I observed, after a long pause, that the gentlemen did not care to enter upon business until after their morning draught, for which reason I called for a bottle of mum; and finding that had no effect upon them, I ordered a second, and a third; after which Sir Harry reached over to me, and told me in a low voice, "that place was too public for business; but he would call upon me again to-morrow morning at my own lodgings, and bring some more friends with him."'

No. 88. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 1, 1709._

The 'Tatler' has been much surprised by the manœuvres of a studious neighbour.

'From my own Apartment, October 31.

'I was this morning awakened by a sudden shake of the house; and as soon as I had got a little out of my consternation, I felt another, which was followed by two or three repetitions of the same convulsion. I got up as fast as possible, girt on my rapier, and snatched up my hat, when my landlady came up to me, and told me, "that the gentlewoman of the next house begged me to step thither, for that a lodger that she had taken in was run mad; and she desired my advice." I went immediately. Our neighbour told us, "she had the day before let her second floor to a very genteel youngish man, who told her he kept extraordinary good hours, and was generally at home most part of the morning and evening at study; but that this morning he had for an hour together made this extravagant noise which we then heard." I went up stairs with my hand upon the hilt of my rapier, and approached this new lodger's door. I looked in at the key-hole, and there I saw a well-made man look with great attention on a book, and on a sudden jump into the air so high, that his head almost touched the ceiling. He came down safe on his right foot, and again flew up, alighting on his left; then looked again at his book, and, holding out his leg, put it into such a quivering motion, that I thought that he would have shaken it off. He used the left after the same manner, when on a sudden, to my great surprise, he stooped himself incredibly low, and turned gently on his toes. After this circular motion, he continued bent in that humble posture for some time looking on his book. After this, he recovered himself with a sudden spring, and flew round the room in all the violence and disorder imaginable, until he made a full pause for want of breath. In this interim my woman asked "what I thought?" I whispered "that I thought this learned person an enthusiast, who possibly had his education in the Peripatetic way, which was a sect of philosophers, who always studied when walking." Observing him much out of breath, I thought it the best time to master him if he were disordered, and knocked at his door. I was surprised to find him open it, and say with great civility and good mien, "that he hoped he had not disturbed us." I believed him in a lucid interval, and desired "he would please to let me see his book." He did so, smiling. I could not make anything of it, and, therefore, asked "in what language it was writ?" He said, "it was one he studied with great application; but it was his profession to teach it, and could not communicate his knowledge without a consideration." I answered that I hoped he would hereafter keep his thoughts to himself, for his meditations this morning had cost me three coffee dishes and a clean pipe. He seemed concerned at that, and told me "he was a dancing master, and had been reading a dance or two before he went out, which had been written by one who taught at an academy in France." He observed me at a stand, and informed me, "that now articulate motions as well as sounds were expressed by proper characters; and that there is nothing so common as to communicate a dance by a letter." I besought him hereafter to meditate in a ground room, for that otherwise it would be impossible for an artist of any other kind to live near him, and that I was sure several of his thoughts this morning would have shaken my spectacles off my nose, had I been myself at study.'

No. 91. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 8, 1709._

One of the celebrated beauties of 1709 pays the 'Tatler' a friendly visit to obtain his counsel on the choice of her future husband, being perplexed between two suitors--between inclination on one hand and riches on the other.

'From my own Apartment, November 7.

'I was very much surprised this evening with a visit from one of the top Toasts of the town, who came privately in a chair, and bolted into my room, while I was reading a chapter of Agrippa upon the occult sciences; but, as she entered with all the air and bloom that nature ever bestowed on woman, I threw down the conjurer and met the charmer. I had no sooner placed her at my right hand by the fire, but she opened to me the reason of her visit. "Mr. Bickerstaff," said the fine creature, "I have been your correspondent some time, though I never saw you before; I have writ by the name of Maria. You have told me you are too far gone in life to think of love. Therefore I am answered as to the passion I spoke of; and," continued she, smiling, "I will not stay until you grow young again, as you men never fail to do in your dotage; but am come to consult you as to disposing of myself to another. My person you see, my fortune is very considerable; but I am at present under much perplexity how to act in a great conjuncture. I have two lovers, Crassus and Lorio. Crassus is prodigiously rich, but has no one distinguishing quality. Lorio has travelled, is well bred, pleasant in discourse, discreet in his conduct, agreeable in his person; and with all this, he has a competency of fortune without superfluity. When I consider Lorio, my mind is filled with an idea of the great satisfactions of a pleasant conversation. When I think of Crassus, my equipage, numerous servants, gay liveries, and various dresses, are opposed to the charms of his rival. In a word, when I cast my eyes upon Lorio, I forget and despise fortune; when I behold Crassus, I think only of pleasing my vanity, and enjoying an uncontrolled expense in all the pleasures of life, except love."'

The 'Tatler' naturally advised the lady that the man of her affections, rather than the lover who could gratify her vanity with outward show, would afford her the truest happiness, and counselled her to keep her thoughts of happiness within the means of her fortune, and not to measure it by comparison with the mere riches of others.

No. 93. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 12, 1709._

The 'Tatler,' from his eagerness to promote social reforms, has succeeded in drawing upon himself numerous challenges from the individuals who have considered themselves aggrieved by his writings.

'From my own Apartment, November 11.

'I have several hints and advertisements from unknown hands, that some who are enemies to my labours design to demand the fashionable way of satisfaction for the disturbance my lucubrations have given them. I confess that as things now stand I do not know how to deny such inviters, and am preparing myself accordingly. I have bought pumps, and foils, and am every morning practising in my chamber. My neighbour, the dancing-master, has demanded of me, "why I take this liberty since I will not allow it to him?" but I answered, "his was an act of indifferent nature, and mine of necessity." My late treatises against duels have so far disobliged the fraternity of the noble science of defence, that I can get none of them to show me so much as one pass. I am, therefore, obliged to learn by book, and have accordingly several volumes, wherein all the postures are exactly delineated. I must confess I am shy of letting people see me at this exercise, because of my flannel waistcoat, and my spectacles, which I am forced to fix on the better to observe the posture of the enemy.

'I have upon my chamber walls drawn at full length the figures of all sorts of men, from eight feet to three feet two inches. Within this height, I take it, that all the fighting men of Great Britain are comprehended. But as I push, I make allowance for my being of a lank and spare body, and have chalked out in every figure my own dimensions; for I scorn to rob any man of his life by taking advantage of his breadth; therefore, I press purely in a line down from his nose, and take no more of him to assault than he has of me; for, to speak impartially, if a lean fellow wounds a fat one in any part to the right or left, whether it be in _carte_ or in _tierce_, beyond the dimensions of the said lean fellow's own breadth, I take it to be murder, and such a murder as is below a gentleman to commit. As I am spare, I am also very tall, and behave myself with relation to that advantage with the same punctilio, and I am ready to stoop or stand, according to the stature of my adversary.

'I must confess that I have had great success this morning, and have hit every figure round the room in a mortal part, without receiving the least hurt, except a little scratch by falling on my face, in pushing at one at the lower end of my chamber; but I recovered so quick, and jumped so nimbly on my guard, that, if he had been alive, he could not have hurt me. It is confessed I have written against duels with some warmth; but in all my discourses I have not ever said that I knew how a gentleman could avoid a duel if he were provoked to it; and since that custom is now become a law, I know nothing but the legislative power, with new animadversions upon it, can put us in a capacity of denying challenges, though we were afterwards hanged for it. But no more of this at present. As things stand, I shall put up with no more affronts; and I shall be so far from taking ill words that I will not take ill looks. I therefore warn all hot young fellows not to look hereafter more terrible than their neighbours; for if they stare at me with their hats cocked higher than other people, I will not bear it. Nay, I give warning to all people in general to look kindly at me; for I will bear no frowns, even from ladies; and if any woman pretends to look scornfully at me, I shall demand satisfaction of the next of kin of the masculine gender.'

No. 96. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 19, 1709._

The 'Tatler,' in despair of effecting his object by discouraging certain acts of foppery, endeavours to carry out his principle by an opposite course of treatment.

'From my own Apartment, November 18.

'When an engineer finds his guns have not had their intended effect, he changes his batteries. I am forced at present to take this method; and instead of continuing to write against the singularity some are guilty of in their habit and behaviour, I shall henceforth desire them to persevere in it; and not only so, but shall take it as a favour of all the coxcombs in the town, if they will set marks upon themselves, and by some particular in their dress show to what class they belong. It would be very obliging in all such persons, who feel in themselves that they are not of sound understanding, to give the world notice of it, and spare mankind the pains of finding them out. A cane upon the fifth button shall from henceforth be the sign of a dapper; red-heeled shoes and a hat hung upon one side of the head shall signify a smart; _a good periwig made into a twist, with a brisk cock_, shall speak a mettled fellow; and an upper lip covered with snuff, a coffee-house statesman. But as it is required that all coxcombs hang out their signs, it is, on the other hand, expected that men of real merit should avoid anything particular in their dress, gait, or behaviour. For, as we old men delight in proverbs, I cannot forbear bringing out one on this occasion, that "good wine needs no bush."

'I must not leave this subject without reflecting on several persons I have lately met, who at a distance seem very terrible; but upon a stricter enquiry into their looks and features, appear as meek and harmless as any of my neighbours. These are country gentlemen, who of late years have taken up a humour of coming to town in red coats, whom an arch wag of my acquaintance used to describe very well by calling them "sheep in wolves' clothing." I have often wondered that honest gentlemen, who are good neighbours, and live quietly in their own possessions, should take it into their heads to frighten the town after this unreasonable manner. I shall think myself obliged, if they persist in so unnatural a dress, notwithstanding any posts they may have in the _militia_, to give away their red coats to any of the soldiery who shall think fit to strip them, provided the said soldiers can make it appear that they belong to a regiment where there is a deficiency in the clothing. About two days ago I was walking in the park, and accidentally met a rural esquire, clothed in all the types above mentioned, with a carriage and behaviour made entirely out of his own head. He was of a bulk and stature larger than ordinary, had a red coat, flung open to show a gay calamancho waistcoat. His periwig fell in a very considerable bush upon each shoulder. His arms naturally swung at an unreasonable distance from his sides; which, with the advantage of a cane that he brandished in a great variety of irregular motions, made it unsafe for any one to walk within several yards of him. In this manner he took up the whole Mall, his spectators moving on each side of it, whilst he cocked up his hat, and marched directly for Westminster. I cannot tell who this gentleman is, but for my comfort may say, with the lover in Terence, who lost sight of a fine young lady, "Wherever thou art, thou canst not be long concealed."'

No. 103. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 6, 1709._

These toys will once to serious mischiefs fall, When he is laughed at, when he's jeer'd by all. _Creech_ (ab Hor., Ars Poet. v. 452).

The 'Tatler,' pursuing his vocation as a censor of manners, is presumed to have established a court, before which all bearers of canes, snuff-boxes, perfumed handkerchiefs, perspective glasses, &c., are brought, that they may, upon showing proper cause, have licences granted for carrying the same; but upon conviction that these appendages of fashion are adopted merely out of frivolous show, the articles thus exposed are ordered to become forfeited.

'Having despatched this set of my petitioners, the bearers of canes, there came in a well-dressed man, with a glass tube in one hand, and his petition in the other. Upon his entering the room, he _threw back the right side of his wig_, put forward his left leg, and advancing the glass to his right eye, aimed it directly at me. In the meanwhile, to make my observations also, I put on my spectacles; in which posture we surveyed each other for some time. Upon the removal of our glasses, I desired him to read his petition, which he did very promptly and easily; though at the same time it sets forth "that he could see nothing distinctly, and was within very few degrees of being utterly blind," concluding, with a prayer, "that he might be permitted to strengthen his sight by a glass." In answer to this, I told him "he might sometimes extend it to his own destruction. As you are now," said I, "you are out of the reach of beauty; the shafts of the finest eyes lose their force before they can come at you; you cannot distinguish a Toast from an orange-wench; you can see a whole circle of beauty without any interruption from an impertinent face to discompose you. In short, what are snares for others"--my petitioner would hear no more, but told me very seriously, "Mr. Bickerstaff, you quite mistake your man; it is the joy, the pleasure, the employment of my life to frequent public assemblies and gaze upon the fair." In a word, I found his use of a glass was occasioned by no other infirmity but his vanity, and was not so much designed to make him see as to make him be seen and distinguished by others. I therefore refused him a licence for a perspective, but allowed him a pair of spectacles, with full permission to use them in any public assembly as he should think fit. He was followed by so very few of this order of men, that I have reason to hope that this sort of cheat is almost at an end.

'Little follies in dress and behaviour lead to greater evils. The bearing to be laughed at for such singularity teaches us insensibly an impertinent fortitude, and enables us to bear public censure for things that most substantially deserve it. By this means they open a gate to folly, and often render a man so ridiculous as to discredit his virtues and capacities, and unqualify him from doing any good in the world. Besides, the giving in to uncommon habits of this nature, it is a want of that humble deference which is due to mankind, and, what is worst of all, the certain indication of some secret flaw in the mind of the person that commits them.

'When I was a young man, I remember a gentleman of great integrity and worth was very remarkable for wearing a broad belt and a hanger instead of a fashionable sword, though in other points a very well-bred man. I suspected him at first sight to have something wrong in him, but was not able for a long time to discover any collateral proofs of it. I watched him narrowly for six-and-thirty years, when at last, to the surprise of everybody but myself, who had long expected to see the folly break out, he married his own cook-maid.'

No. 108. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 17, 1709._

Thus while the mute creation downward bend Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes Beholds his own hereditary skies.--_Dryden._

The 'Tatler,' for a little rational recreation, has visited the theatre, hoping to enlarge his ideas; but even in 1709 we find a passion for mere acrobatic exhibitions engaging and corrupting the popular taste.

'While I was in suspense, expecting every moment to see my old friend Mr. Betterton appear in all the majesty of distress, to my unspeakable amazement there came up a monster with a face between his feet, and as I was looking on he raised himself on one leg in such a perpendicular posture that the other grew in a direct line above his head. It afterwards twisted itself into the motions and writhings of several different animals, and, after a great variety of shapes and transformations, went off the stage in the figure of a human creature. The admiration, the applause, the satisfaction of the audience, during this strange entertainment, is not to be expressed. I was very much out of countenance for my dear countrymen, and looked about with some apprehension, for fear any foreigner should be present. Is it possible, thought I, that human nature can rejoice in its disgrace, and take pleasure in seeing its own figure turned to ridicule and distorted into forms that raise horror and aversion!'

No. 109. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 20, 1709._

In this giddy, busy maze, I lose the sunshine of my days.--_Francis._

A fine lady has condescended to consult the 'Tatler' on a trifling matter; the solemnity of her state--an admirable picture of the equipage of a fine lady of that period--electrifies the philosopher and amazes his simple neighbours.

'Sheer Lane, December 19.

'There has not some years been such a tumult in our neighbourhood as this evening, about six. At the lower end of the lane, the word was given that there was a great funeral coming by. The next moment came forward, in a very hasty instead of a solemn manner, a long train of lights, when at last a footman, in very high youth and health, with all his force, ran through the whole art of beating the door of the house next to me, and ended his rattle with the true finishing rap. This did not only bring one to the door at which he knocked, but to that of everyone in the lane in an instant. Among the rest, my country-maid took the alarm, and immediately running to me, told me "there was a fine, fine lady, who had three men with burial torches making way before her, carried by two men upon poles, with looking-glasses each side of her, and one glass also before, she herself appearing the prettiest that ever was." The girl was going on in her story, when the lady was come to my door in her chair, having mistaken the house. As soon as she entered I saw she was Mr. Isaac's scholar, by her speaking air, and the becoming stop she made when she began her apology. "You will be surprised, sir," said she, "that I take this liberty, who am utterly a stranger to you; besides that, it may be thought an indecorum that I visit a man." She made here a pretty hesitation, and held her fan to her face. Then, as if recovering her resolution, she proceeded, "But I think you have said, that men of your age are of no sex; therefore, I may be as free with you as with one of my own."'

The fine lady consults Mr. Bickerstaff on a trivial subject; she then describes to him the honour he should esteem her visit; the number of calls she is compelled to make, out of custom or ceremony, taking her miles round; several acquaintances on her visiting list having been punctually called on every week, and yet never seen for more than a year. Then follows an account of a visiting list for 1708:--

Mrs. Courtwood--_Debtor._ Per contra--_Creditor._

To seventeen hundred and By eleven hundred and four visits received 1704 nine paid 1109

Due to balance 595--1704

No. 111. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 24, 1709._

Oh! mortal man, thou that art born in sin! _The Bellman's Midnight Homily._

Mr. Bickerstaff is meditating on mental infirmities; after examining the faults of others, he is disposed to philosophise on his own bad propensities, and his cautiousness to keep them within reasonable subjection.

'I have somewhere either read or heard a very memorable sentence, "that a man would be a most insupportable monster, should he have the faults that are incident to his years, constitution, profession, family, religion, age, and country;" and yet every man is in danger of them all. For this reason, as I am an old man, I take particular care to avoid being covetous, and telling long stories. As I am choleric, I forbear not only swearing, but all interjections of fretting, as pugh! or pish! and the like. As I am a lay-man, I resolve not to conceive an aversion for a wise and good man, because his coat is of a different colour from mine. As I am descended of the ancient family of the Bickerstaffs, I never call a man of merit an upstart. As a Protestant, I do not suffer my zeal so far to transport me as to name the Pope and the Devil together. As I am fallen into this degenerate age, I guard myself particularly against the folly I have now been speaking of. As I am an Englishman, I am very cautious not to hate a stranger, or despise a poor palatine.'

No. 116. THE 'TATLER.'--_Jan. 5, 1710._

The 'Tatler,' still maintaining his court for the examination of frivolities in costume, is engaged in giving judgment on female fashions. The hooped petticoat is the subject before his worshipful board. A fair offender has been captured, and stripped of her encumbrances until she is reduced to dimensions which will allow her to enter the house; the petticoat is then hung up to the roof--its ample dimensions covering the entire court like a canopy. The late wearer had the sense to confess that she 'should be glad to see an example made of it, that she wore it for no other reason but that she had a mind to look as big and burly as other persons of her quality, and that she kept out of it as long as she could and until she began to appear little in the eyes of her acquaintance.' After hearing arguments concerning the encouragement the wearing of these monstrous appendages offered to the woollen manufacturers, to the rope and cord makers, and to the whalebone fisheries of Greenland, the 'Tatler' pronounced his decision that the expense thus entailed on fathers and husbands, and the prejudice to the ladies themselves, 'who could never expect to have any money in the pocket if they laid out so much on the petticoat,' together with the fact that since the introduction of these garments several persons of quality were in the habit of cutting up their cast gowns to strengthen their stiffening, instead of bestowing them as perquisites or in charity, determined him to seize the petticoat as a forfeiture, to be sent as a present to a widow gentlewoman, who had five daughters, to be made into petticoats for each, the remainder to be returned to be cut up into stomachers and caps, facings for waistcoat sleeves, and other garniture. He thus concludes: 'I consider woman as a beautiful, romantic animal, that may be adorned with furs and feathers, pearls and diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its skin at her feet to make her a tippet; the peacock, parrot, and swan shall pay contributions to her muff; the sea shall be searched for shells, and the rocks for gems; and every part of nature furnish out its share towards the embellishment of a creature that is the most consummate work of it. All this I shall indulge them in; but as for the petticoat I have been speaking of I neither can nor will allow it.'

No. 145. THE 'TATLER.'--_March 14, 1710._

Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. --_Virg. Ecl._ III. 103.

Ah! what ill eyes bewitch my tender lambs?

'This paper was allotted for taking into consideration a late request of two indulgent parents, touching the care of a young daughter, whom they design to send to a boarding-school, or keep at home, according to my determination; but I am diverted from that subject by letters which I have received from several ladies, complaining of a certain sect of professed enemies to the repose of the fair sex, called oglers. These are, it seems, gentlemen who look with deep attention on one object at the playhouses, and are ever staring all round them in churches. It is urged by my correspondents, that they do all that is possible to keep their eyes off these ensnarers; but that, by what power they know not, both their diversions and devotions are interrupted by them in such a manner as that they cannot attend to either, without stealing looks at the persons whose eyes are fixed upon them. By this means, my petitioners say, they find themselves grow insensibly less offended, and in time enamoured of these their enemies. What is required of me on this occasion is, that as I love and study to preserve the better part of mankind, the females, I would give them some account of this dangerous way of assault; against which there is so little defence, that it lays ambush for the sight itself, and makes them seeingly, knowingly, willingly, and forcibly go on to their own captivity. The naturalists tell us that the rattlesnake will fix himself under a tree where he sees a squirrel playing; and when he has once got the exchange of a glance from the pretty wanton, will give it such a sudden stroke on its imagination, that though it may play from bough to bough, and strive to avert its eyes from it for some time, yet it comes nearer and nearer, by little intervals looking another way, until it drops into the jaws of the animal, which it knew gazed at it for no other reason but to ruin it. I did not believe this piece of philosophy until the night when I made my observations of the play of eyes at the opera, where I then saw the same thing pass between an ogler and a coquette.'

No. 146. THE 'TATLER.'--_March 16, 1710._

Intrust thy fortune to the Powers above; Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant What their unerring wisdom sees thee want: In wisdom as in greatness they excel; Ah! that we lov'd ourselves but half so well! We, blindly by our headstrong passions led, Are hot for action, and desire to wed; Then wish for heirs, but to the gods alone Our future offspring and our wives are known. _Juv. Sat., Dryden._

'As I was sitting after dinner in my elbow-chair, I took up Homer, and dipped into that famous speech of Achilles to Priam,[19] in which he tells him that Jupiter has by him two great vessels, the one filled with blessings, and the other with misfortunes; out of which he mingles a composition for every man that comes into the world. This passage so exceedingly pleased me, that, as I fell insensibly into my afternoon's slumber, it wrought my imagination into the following dream:--

'When Jupiter took into his hands the government of the world, the several parts of nature with the presiding deities did homage to him. One presented him with a mountain of winds, another with a magazine of hail, and a third with a pile of thunderbolts. The Stars offered up their influences; Ocean gave his trident, Earth her fruits, and the Sun his seasons.

'Among others the Destinies advanced with two great urns, one of which was fixed on the right hand of Jove's throne, and the other on the left. The first was filled with all the blessings, the second with all the calamities, of human life. Jupiter, in the beginning of his reign, poured forth plentifully from the right hand; but as mankind, degenerating, became unworthy of his blessings, he broached the other vessel, which filled the earth with pain and poverty, battles and distempers, jealousy and falsehood, intoxicating pleasures and untimely deaths. He finally, in despair at the depravity of human nature, resolved to recall his gifts and lay them in store until the world should be inhabited by a more deserving race.

'The three sisters of Destiny immediately repaired to the earth in search of the several blessings which had been scattered over it, but found great difficulties in their task. The first places they resorted to, as the most likely of success, were cities, palaces, and courts; but instead of meeting with what they looked for here, they found nothing but envy, repining, uneasiness, and the like bitter ingredients of the left-hand vessel; whereas, to their great surprise, they discovered content, cheerfulness, health, innocence, and other the most substantial blessings of life, in cottages, shades, and solitudes. In other places the blessings had been converted into calamities, and misfortunes had become real benefits, while in many cases the two had entered into alliance. In their perplexity the Destinies were compelled to throw all the blessings and calamities into one vessel, and leave them to Jupiter to use his own discretion in their future distribution.'

No. 148. THE 'TATLER.'--_March 21, 1710._

They ransack ev'ry element for choice Of ev'ry fish and fowl, at any price.

'I may, perhaps, be thought extravagant in my notion; but I confess I am apt to impute the dishonours that sometimes happen in great families to the inflaming diet which is so much in fashion. For this reason we see the florid complexion, the strong limb, and the hale constitution are to be found among the meaner sort of people, or in the wild gentry who have been educated among the woods or mountains; whereas many great families are insensibly fallen off from the athletic constitution of their progenitors, and are dwindled away into a pale, sickly, spindle-legged generation of valetudinarians.

'I look upon a French ragoût to be as pernicious to the stomach as a glass of spirits; and when I see a young lady swallow all the instigations of high soups, seasoned sauces, and forced meats, I have wondered at the despair or tedious sighing of her lovers.

'The rules among these false delicates are, to be as contradictory as they can be to nature. They admit of nothing at their tables in its natural form, or without some disguise. They are to eat everything before it comes in season, and to leave it off as soon as it is good to be eaten.

'I remember I was last summer invited to a friend's house, who is a great admirer of the French cookery, and, as the phrase is, "eats well." At our sitting down, I found the table covered with a great variety of unknown dishes. I was mightily at a loss to learn what they were, and therefore did not know where to help myself. That which stood before me I took to be roasted porcupine--however, I did not care for asking questions--and have since been informed that it was only a larded turkey. I afterwards passed my eye over several hashes, which I do not know the names of to this day; and, hearing that they were delicacies, did not think fit to meddle with them. Among other dainties, I saw something like a pheasant, and therefore desired to be helped to a wing of it; but to my great surprise, my friend told me it was a rabbit, which is a sort of meat I never cared for. Even the dessert was so pleasingly devised and ingeniously arranged that I cared not to displace it.

'As soon as this show was over, I took my leave, that I might finish my dinner at my own house; for as I in everything love what is simple and natural, so particularly my food. Two plain dishes, with two or three good-natured, cheerful, ingenuous friends, would make me more pleased and vain than all that pomp and luxury can bestow; for it is my maxim that "he keeps the greatest table who has the most valuable company at it."'

No. 155. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 17, 1710._

When he had lost all business of his own, He ran in quest of news through all the town.

'There lived some years since, within my neighbourhood, a very grave person, an upholsterer,[20] who seemed a man of more than ordinary application to business. He was a very early riser, and was often abroad two or three hours before any of his neighbours. He had a particular carefulness in the knitting of his brows, and a kind of impatience in all his motions, that plainly discovered he was always intent upon matters of importance. Upon my inquiry into his life and conversation, I found him to be the greatest newsmonger in our quarter; that he rose before day to read the "Postman;" and that he would take two or three turns to the other end of the town before his neighbours were up, to see if there were any Dutch mails come in. He had a wife and several children; but was much more inquisitive to know what passed in Poland than in his own family, and was in greater pain and anxiety of mind for King Augustus's welfare than that of his nearest relations. He looked extremely thin in a dearth of news, and never enjoyed himself in a westerly wind. This indefatigable kind of life was the ruin of his shop; for, about the time that his favourite prince left the crown of Poland, he broke and disappeared.

'This man and his affairs had been long out of my mind, until about three days ago, as I was walking in St. James's Park, I heard somebody at a distance hemming after me; and who should it be but my old neighbour the upholsterer! I saw he was reduced to extreme poverty, by certain shabby superfluities in his dress; for notwithstanding that it was a very sultry day for the time of the year, he wore a loose great-coat and a muff, with a long campaign wig out of curl; to which he had added the ornament of a pair of black garters buckled under the knee. Upon his coming up to me, I was going to inquire into his present circumstances; but I was prevented by his asking me, with a whisper, "whether the last letters brought any accounts that one might rely upon from Bender." I told him, "None that I heard of;" and asked him "whether he had yet married his eldest daughter." He told me, "No; but pray," says he, "tell me sincerely, what are your thoughts of the King of Sweden?" For, though his wife and children were starving, I found his chief concern at present was for this great monarch. I told him "that I looked upon him as one of the first heroes of the age." "But pray," says he, "do you think there is any truth in the story of his wound?" And finding me surprised at the question, "Nay," says he, "I only propose it to you." I answered "that I thought there was no reason to doubt of it." "But why in the heel," says he, "more than in any other part of the body?" "Because," said I, "the bullet chanced to light there."

'We were now got to the upper end of the Mall, where were three or four very odd fellows sitting together upon the bench. These I found were all of them politicians, who used to sun themselves in that place every day about dinner-time. Observing them to be curiosities in their kind, and my friend's acquaintance, I sat down among them.

'The chief politician of the bench was a great asserter of paradoxes. He told us, with a seeming concern, "that, by some news he had lately read from Muscovy, it appeared to him that there was a storm gathering in the Black Sea, which might in time do hurt to the naval forces of this nation." To this he added, "that, for his part, he could not wish to see the Turk driven out of Europe, which, he believed, could not but be prejudicial to our woollen manufacture."

'He backed his assertions with so many broken hints and such a show of depth and wisdom, that we gave ourselves up to his opinions. The discourse at length fell upon a point which seldom escapes a knot of true-born Englishmen; whether, in case of a religious war, the Protestants would not be too strong for the Papists. This we unanimously determined on the Protestant side.[21]

'When we had fully discussed this point, my friend the upholsterer began to exert himself upon the present negotiations of peace; in which he deposed princes, settled the bounds of kingdoms, and balanced the power of Europe, with great justice and impartiality.

'I at length took my leave of the company, and was going away; but had not gone thirty yards before the upholsterer hemmed again after me. Upon his advancing towards me with a whisper, I expected to hear some secret piece of news, which he had not thought fit to communicate to the bench; but, instead of that, he desired me in my ear to lend him half-a-crown. In compassion to so needy a statesman, and to dissipate the confusion I found he was in, I told him, "if he pleased, I would give him five shillings, to receive five pounds of him when the great Turk was driven out of Constantinople;" which he very readily accepted, but not before he had laid down to me the impossibility of such an event as the affairs of Europe now stand.

'This paper I design for the peculiar benefit of those worthy citizens who live more in a coffee-house than in their shops, and whose thoughts are so taken up with foreign affairs that they forget their customers.'

No. 163. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 25, 1710._

Suffenus has no more wit than a mere clown, when he attempts to write verses; and yet he is never happier than when he is scribbling; so much does he admire himself and his compositions. And, indeed, this is the foible of every one of us; for there is no man living who is not a Suffenus in one thing or other.--_Catul. de Suffeno_, XX. 14.

'I yesterday came hither about two hours before the company generally make their appearance, with a design to read over all the newspapers; but, upon my sitting down, I was accosted by Ned Softly, who saw me from a corner in the other end of the room, where I found he had been writing something. "Mr. Bickerstaff," says he, "I observe, by a late paper of yours, that you and I are just of a humour; for you must know, of all impertinences, there is nothing which I so much hate as news. I never read a gazette in my life; and never trouble my head about our armies, whether they win or lose, or in what part of the world they lie encamped." Without giving me time to reply, he drew a paper of verses out of his pocket, telling me "that he had something that would entertain me more agreeably; and that he would desire my judgment upon every line, for that we had time enough before us until the company came in."

'Finding myself unavoidably engaged in such a conversation, I was resolved to turn my pain into a pleasure and to divert myself as well as I could with _so very odd_ a fellow. "You must understand," says Ned, "that the sonnet I am going to read to you was written upon a lady, who showed me some verses of her own making, and is, perhaps, the best _poet_ of our age. But you shall hear it."

'Upon which he began to read as follows:--

TO MIRA, ON HER INCOMPARABLE POEMS.

1.

When dress'd in laurel wreaths you shine, And tune your soft melodious notes, You seem a sister of the Nine, Or Phœbus' self in petticoats.

2.

I fancy when your song you sing (Your song you sing with so much art) Your pen was pluck'd from Cupid's wing; For, ah! it wounds me like a dart.

'"Why," says I, "this is a little nosegay of conceits, a very lump of salt. Every verse has something in it that piques; and then the _dart_ in the last line is certainly as pretty a sting on the tail of an epigram, for so I think you critics call it, as ever entered into the thought of a poet." "Dear Mr. Bickerstaff," says he, shaking me by the hand, "everybody knows you to be a judge of these things; and, to tell you truly, I read over Roscommon's 'Translation of Horace's Art of Poetry' three several times before I sat down to write the sonnet which I have shown you. But you shall hear it again, and pray observe every line of it; for not one of them shall pass without your approbation. My friend Dick Easy," continued he, "assured me he would rather have written that '_Ah!_' than to have been the author of the 'Æneid.'

'"He indeed objected that I made Mira's pen like a quill in one of the lines and like a dart in the other." "But as to that--oh! as to that," says I, "it is but supposing Cupid to be like a porcupine, and his quills and darts will be the same thing." He was going to embrace me for the hint; but half-a-dozen critics coming into the room, whose faces he did not like, he conveyed the sonnet into his pocket, and whispered me in the ear, "he would show it me again as soon as his man had written it over fair."'

No. 178. THE 'TATLER.'--_May 30, 1710._

'When we look into the delightful history of the most ingenious Don Quixote of La Mancha, and consider the exercises and manner of life of that renowned gentleman, we cannot but admire the exquisite genius and discerning spirit of Michael Cervantes; who has not only painted his adventurer with great mastery in the conspicuous parts of his story, which relate to love and honour, but also intimated in his ordinary life, in his economy and furniture, the infallible symptoms he gave of his growing phrenzy, before he declared himself a knight-errant. His hall was furnished with old lances, halberds, and morions; his food, lentiles; his dress, amorous. He slept moderately, rose early, and spent his time in hunting. When by watchfulness and exercise he was thus qualified for the hardships of his intended peregrinations, he had nothing more to do but to fall hard to study; and, before he should apply himself to the practical part, get into the methods of making love and war by reading books of knighthood. As for raising tender passions in him, Cervantes reports that he was wonderfully delighted with a smooth intricate sentence; and when they listened at his study-door, they could frequently hear him read aloud, "The reason of the unreasonableness, which against my reason is wrought, doth so weaken my reason, as with all reason I do justly complain of your beauty." Again he would pause until he came to another charming sentence, and, with the most pleasing accent imaginable, be loud at a new paragraph: "The high heavens, which, with your divinity, do fortify you divinely with the stars, make you deserveress of the deserts that your greatness deserves." With these and other such passages, says my author, the poor gentleman grew distracted, and was breaking his brains day and night to understand and unravel their sense.

'What I am now warning the people of is, that the newspapers of this island are as pernicious to weak heads in England as ever books of chivalry to Spain; and therefore shall do all that in me lies, with the utmost care and vigilance imaginable, to prevent these growing evils.'

Mr. Bickerstaff goes on to describe the private Bedlam he has provided for such as are seized with these _rabid_ political _maladies_.

No. 186. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 17, 1710._

Virtue alone ennobles human kind, And power should on her glorious footsteps wait.

'There is nothing more necessary to establish reputation than to suspend the enjoyment of it. He that cannot bear the sense of merit with silence, must of necessity destroy it; for fame being the general mistress of mankind, whoever gives it to himself insults all to whom he relates any circumstances to his own advantage. He is considered as an open ravisher of that beauty for whom all others pine in silence. But some minds are so incapable of any temperance in this particular, that _on every second_ in their discourse you may observe an earnestness in their eyes which shows they wait for your approbation; and perhaps the next instant cast an eye in a glass to see how they like themselves.

'Walking the other day in a neighbouring inn of court, I saw a more happy and more graceful orator than I ever before had heard or read of. A youth of about nineteen years of age was in an Indian dressing-gown and laced cap, pleading a cause before a glass. The young fellow had a very good air, and seemed to hold his brief in his hand rather to help his action, than that he wanted notes for his further information. When I first began to observe him, I feared he would soon be alarmed; but he was so zealous for his client, and so favourably received by the court, that he went on with great fluency to inform the bench that he humbly hoped they would not let the merit of the cause suffer by the youth and inexperience of the pleader; that in all things he submitted to their candour; and modestly desired they would not conclude but that strength of argument and force of reason may be consistent with grace of action and comeliness of person.

'To me (who see people every day in the midst of crowds, whomsoever they seem to address, talk only to themselves and of themselves) this orator was not so extravagant a man as perhaps another would have thought him; but I took part in his success, and was very glad to find he had in his favour judgment and costs, without any manner of opposition.'

No. 204. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 29, 1710._

He with rapture hears A title tingling in his tender ears. _Francis's Horace, Sat._ V. 32.

'Were distinctions used according to the rules of reason and sense, those additions to men's names would be, as they were first intended, significant of their worth, and not their persons; so that in some cases it might be proper to say of a deceased ambassador, "The man is dead; but his excellency will never die." It is, methinks, very unjust to laugh at a Quaker, because he has taken up a resolution to treat you with a word the most expressive of complaisance that can be thought of, and with an air of good-nature and charity calls you _Friend_. I say, it is very unjust to rally him for this term to a stranger, when you yourself, in all your phrases of distinction, confound phrases of honour into no use at all.

'Tom Courtly, who is the pink of courtesy, is an instance of how little moment an undistinguishing application of sounds of honour are to those who understand themselves. Tom never fails of paying his obeisance to every man he sees who has title or office to make him conspicuous; but his deference is wholly given to outward considerations. I, who know him, can tell him within half an acre how much land one man has more than another by Tom's bow to him. Title is all he knows of honour, and civility of friendship; for this reason, because he cares for no man living, he is religiously strict in performing, what he calls, his respects to you. To this end he is very learned in pedigree, and will abate something in the ceremony of his approaches to a man, if he is in any doubt about the bearing of his coat of arms. What is the most pleasant of all his character is, that he acts with a sort of integrity in these impertinences; and though he would not do any solid kindness, he is wonderfully just and careful not to wrong his quality. But as integrity is very scarce in the world, I cannot forbear having respect for the impertinent: it is some virtue to be bound by anything. Tom and I are upon very good terms, for the respect he has for the house of Bickerstaff. Though one cannot but laugh at his serious consideration of things so little essential, one must have a value even for a frivolous good conscience.'

FOOTNOTES:

[13] Wycherley, in a letter to Pope (May 17, 1709), writes, 'Hitherto your "Miscellanies" have safely run the gauntlet through all the coffee-houses, which are now entertained with a whimsical new newspaper called the "Tatler," which I suppose you have seen.'

[14] White's Chocolate-house was then lower down St. James's Street, and on the opposite side to its present site.

[15] Will's Coffee-house was on the north side of Russell Street, Covent Garden, now No. 23 Great Russell Street.

[16] The 'Grecian' was in Devereux Court, Strand.

[17] 'Shire Lane' was also the heading of numerous papers.

[18] Mr. Isaac, a famous dancing-master at that time, was a Frenchman and Roman Catholic.

[19]

Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood, The source of evil one, and one of good; From thence the cup of mortal man he fills, Blessings to those, to those distributes ills; To most he mingles both: the wretch decreed To taste the bad, unmixed, is curst indeed; Pursu'd by wrongs, by meagre famine driven, He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven. _Pope's Hom. Il._ XIV. ver. 863.

[20] Arne, of Covent Garden; the father of Dr. Thomas Arne, the musician, composer, and dramatic writer, who died in 1778.

[21] One who sat on my right hand, and, as I found by his discourse, had been in the West Indies, assured us 'that it would be a very easy matter for the Protestants to beat the Pope at sea;' and added, 'that whenever such a war does break out, it must turn to the good of the Leeward Isles.' Upon this, one who, as I afterwards found, was the geographer of the company, told us for our comfort 'that there were vast tracts of lands about the pole, inhabited by neither Protestants nor Papists, and of greater extent than all the Roman Catholic dominions in Europe.'