Part iv. pp. 205-236.
[191] Here used for tragic writer.
[192] "Macbeth," act ii. sc. 2.
[193] "Essays," vi.: "Of Greatness."
=No. 252.= [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Nov. 16_ to _Saturday, Nov. 18, 1710_.
Narratur et prisci Catonis Sæpe mero caluisse virtus.
HOR., 3 Od. xxi. 11.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 17._
The following letter, and several others to the same purpose, accuse me of a rigour of which I am far from being guilty, to wit, the disallowing the cheerful use of wine.
* * * * *
"_From my Country-house, Oct. 25._
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"Your discourse against drinking, in Tuesday's _Tatler_,[194] I like well enough in the main; but in my humble opinion, you are become too rigid where you say to this effect: 'Were there only this single consideration, that we are the less masters of ourselves if we drink the least proportion beyond the exigence of thirst.' I hope no one drinks wine to allay this appetite. This seems to be designed for a loftier indulgence of Nature; for it were hard to suppose, that the Author of Nature, who imposed upon her her necessities and pains, does not allow her her pleasures, and we may reckon among the latter the moderate use of the grape: and though I am as much against excess, or whatever approaches it, as yourself, yet I conceive one may safely go further than the bounds you there prescribe, not only without forfeiting the title of being one's own master, but also to possess it in a much greater degree. If a man's expressing himself upon any subject with more life and vivacity, more variety of ideas, more copiously, more fluently, and more to the purpose, argues it, he thinks clearer, speaks more ready, and with greater choice of comprehensive and significant terms. I have the good fortune now to be intimate with a gentleman remarkable for this temper, who has an inexhaustible source of wit to entertain the curious, the grave, the humorous, and the frolic. He can transform himself into different shapes, and adapt himself to every company; yet in a coffee-house, or in the ordinary course of affairs, appears rather dull than sprightly. You can seldom get him to the tavern, but when once he is arrived to his pint, and begins to look about and like his company, you admire a thousand things in him, which before lay buried. Then you discover the brightness of his mind and the strength of his judgment, accompanied with the most graceful mirth. In a word, by this enlivening aid, he is whatever is polite, instructive, and diverting. What makes him still more agreeable is, that he tells a story, serious or comical, with as much delicacy of humour as Cervantes himself. And for all this, at other times, even after a long knowledge of him, you shall scarce discern in this incomparable person a whit more than what might be expected from one of a common capacity. Doubtless there are men of great parts that are guilty of downright bashfulness, that by a strange hesitation and reluctance to speak, murder the finest and most elegant thoughts, and render the most lively conceptions flat and heavy.
"In this case, a certain quantity of my white or red cordial, which you will, is an easy, but an infallible remedy. It awakens the judgment, quickens memory, ripens understanding, disperses melancholy, cheers the heart; in a word, restores the whole man to himself and his friends without the least pain or indisposition to the patient. To be taken only in the evening in a reasonable quantity before going to bed. _Note._--My bottles are sealed with three fleurs-de-lis and a bunch of grapes. Beware of counterfeits. I am,
"Your most humble Servant, &c."
Whatever has been said against the use of wine, upon the supposition that it enfeebles the mind, and renders it unfit for the duties of life, bears forcibly to the advantage of that delicious juice, in cases where it only heightens conversation, and brings to light agreeable talents, which otherwise would have lain concealed under the oppression of an unjust modesty. I must acknowledge I have seen many of the temper mentioned by this correspondent, and own, wine may very allowably be used in a degree above the supply of mere necessity by such as labour under melancholy, or are tongue-tied by modesty. It is certainly a very agreeable change, when we see a glass raise a lifeless conversation into all the pleasures of wit and good-humour. But when Caska adds to his natural impudence the fluster of a bottle, that which fools called fire when he was sober, all men abhor as outrage when he is drunk. Thus he that in the morning was only saucy, is in the evening tumultuous. It makes one sick to hear one of these fellows say, they love a friend and a bottle. Noisy mirth has something too rustic in it to be considered without terror by men of politeness: but while the discourse improves in a well-chosen company, from the addition of spirits which flow from moderate cups, it must be acknowledged, that leisure time cannot be more agreeably, or perhaps more usefully employed than at such meetings: but there is a certain prudence in this and all other circumstances which makes right or wrong in the conduct of ordinary life. Sir Geoffrey Wildacre has nothing so much at heart as that his son should know the world betimes: for this end he introduces him among the sots of his own age, where the boy learns to laugh at his father from the familiarity with which he sees him treated by his equals. This the old fellow calls living well with his heir, and teaching him to be too much his friend to be impatient for his estate. But for the more exact regulation of society in this and other matters, I shall publish tables of the characters and relations among men, and by them instruct the town in making sets and companies for a bottle. This humour of Sir Geoffrey shall be taken notice of in the first place; for there is, methinks, a sort of incest in drunkenness, and sons are not to behold fathers stripped of all reverence.
It is shocking in nature for the young to see those whom they should have an awe for in circumstances of contempt. I shall therefore utterly forbid, that those in whom nature should admonish to avoid too gross familiarities, shall be received in parties of pleasure where there is the least danger of excess. I should run through the whole doctrine of drinking, but that my thoughts are at present too much employed in the modelling my Court of Honour; and altering the seats, benches, bar, and canopy from that of the court wherein I last winter sat upon causes of less moment. By the way, I shall take an opportunity to examine, what method is to be taken to make joiners and other artificers get out of a house they have once entered, not forgetting to tie them under proper regulations. It is for want of such rules, that I have a day or two longer than I expected been tormented and deafened with hammers, insomuch that I neither can pursue this discourse, or answer the following and many other letters of the highest importance.
* * * * *
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"We are man and wife, and have a boy and a girl: the lad seventeen, the maiden sixteen. We are quarrelling about some parts of their education. I, Ralph, cannot bear that I must pay for the girl's learning on the spinnet, when I know she has no ear. I, Bridget, have not patience to have my son whipped because he cannot make verses, when I know he is a blockhead. Pray, sir, inform us, is it absolutely necessary that all who wear breeches must be taught to rhyme, all in petticoats to touch an instrument? Please to interpose in this and the like cases, to end much solid distress which arises from trifling causes, as it is common in wedlock, and you will very much oblige us and ours.
"RALPH } } YOKEFELLOW." "BRIDGET }
FOOTNOTES:
[194] No. 241.
=No. 253.= [ADDISON and STEELE.[195]
From _Saturday, Nov. 18_, to _Tuesday, Nov. 21, 1710_.
----Pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant.
VIRG., Æn. i. 151.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 20._
EXTRACT OF THE JOURNAL OF THE COURT OF HONOUR, 1710.[196]
Die lunae vicesimo Novembris, hora nona ante-meridiana.
The court being sat, an oath prepared by the censor was administered to the assistants on his right hand, who were all sworn upon their honour. The women on his left hand took the same oath upon their reputation. Twelve gentlemen of the Horse Guards were empanelled, having unanimously chosen Mr. Alexander Truncheon, who is their right-hand man in the troop, for their foreman in the jury. Mr. Truncheon immediately drew his sword, and holding it with the point towards his own body, presented it to the censor. Mr. Bickerstaff received it, and after having surveyed the breadth of the blade, and sharpness of the point, with more than ordinary attention, returned it to the foreman in a very graceful manner. The rest of the jury, upon the delivery of the sword to their foreman, drew all of them together as one man, and saluted the bench with such an air, as signified the most resigned submission to those who commanded them, and the greatest magnanimity to execute what they should command.
Mr. Bickerstaff, after having received the compliments on his right hand, cast his eye upon the left, where the whole female jury paid their respects by a low courtesy, and by laying their hands upon their mouths. Their forewoman was a professed Platonist,[197] that had spent much of her time in exhorting the sex to set a just value upon their persons, and to make the men know themselves.
There followed a profound silence, when at length, after some recollection, the censor, who continued hitherto uncovered, put on his hat with great dignity; and after having composed the brims of it in a manner suitable to the gravity of his character, he gave the following charge, which was received with silence and attention, that being the only applause which he admits of, or is ever given in his presence:
"The nature of my office, and the solemnity of this occasion, requiring that I should open my first session with a speech, I shall cast what I have to say under two principal heads.
"Under the first, I shall endeavour to show the necessity and usefulness of this new-erected court; and under the second, I shall give a word of advice and instruction to every constituent part of it.
"As for the first, it is well observed by Phædrus, a heathen poet:
_Nisi utile est quod facimus, frustra est gloria._[198]
Which is the same, ladies, as if I should say, It would be of no reputation for me to be president of a court which is of no benefit to the public. Now the advantages that may arise to the weal-public from this institution will more plainly appear, if we consider what it suffers for the want of it. Are not our streets daily filled with wild pieces of justice and random penalties? Are not crimes undetermined, and reparations disproportioned? How often have we seen the lie punished by death, and the liar himself deciding his own cause? nay, not only acting the judge, but the executioner? Have we not known a box on the ear more severely accounted for than manslaughter? In these extra-judicial proceedings of mankind, an unmannerly jest is frequently as capital as a premeditated murder.
"But the most pernicious circumstance in this case is, that the man who suffers the injury must put himself upon the same foot of danger with him that gave it, before he can have his just revenge; so that the punishment is altogether accidental, and may fall as well upon the innocent as the guilty.
"I shall only mention a case which happens frequently among the more polite nations of the world, and which I the rather mention, because both sexes are concerned in it, and which therefore you gentlemen and you ladies of the jury will the rather take notice of; I mean that great and known case of cuckoldom. Supposing the person who has suffered insults in his dearer and better half; supposing, I say, this person should resent the injuries done to his tender wife, what is the reparation he may expect? Why, to be used worse than his poor lady, run through the body, and left breathless upon the bed of honour. What then will you on my right hand say must the man do that is affronted? Must our sides be elbowed, our shins broken? Must the wall, or perhaps our mistress, be taken from us? May a man knit his forehead into a frown, toss up his arm, or pish at what we say, and must the villain live after it? Is there no redress for injured honour? Yes, gentlemen, that is the design of the judicature we have here established.
"A Court of Conscience, we very well know, was first instituted for the determining of several points of property that were too little and trivial for the cognisance of higher courts of justice. In the same manner, our Court of Honour is appointed for the examination of several niceties and punctilios that do not pass for wrongs in the eye of our common laws. But notwithstanding no legislators of any nation have taken into consideration these little circumstances, they are such as often lead to crimes big enough for their inspection, though they come before them too late for their redress.
"Besides, I appeal to you, ladies [here Mr. Bickerstaff turned to his left hand], if these are not the little stings and thorns in life that make it more uneasy than its most substantial evils? Confess ingenuously, did you never lose a morning's devotions because you could not offer them up from the highest place of the pew? Have you not been in pain, even at a ball, because another has been taken out to dance before you? Do you love any of your friends so much as those that are below you? Or have you any favourites that walk on your right hand? You have answered me in your looks, I ask no more.
"I come now to the second part of my discourse, which obliges me to address myself in particular to the respective members of the court, in which I shall be very brief.
"As for you, gentlemen and ladies, my assistants and grand juries, I have made choice of you on my right hand, because I know you very jealous of your honour; and you on my left, because I know you very much concerned for the reputation of others; for which reason I expect great exactness and impartiality in your verdicts and judgments.
"I must in the next place address myself to you, gentlemen of the council: you all know, that I have not chosen you for your knowledge in the litigious parts of the law, but because you have all of you formerly fought duels, of which I have reason to think you have repented, as being now settled in the peaceable state of benchers. My advice to you is, only that in your pleadings you are short and expressive: to which end you are to banish out of your discourses all synonymous terms, and unnecessary multiplications of verbs and nouns. I do moreover forbid you the use of the words 'also' and 'likewise'; and must further declare, that if I catch any one among you, upon any pretence whatsoever, using the particle 'or,' I shall incessantly order him to be stripped of his gown, and thrown over the bar."
"This is a true copy.--CHARLES LILLIE."
_N.B._--The sequel of the proceedings of this day will be published on Tuesday next.[199]
FOOTNOTES:
[195] Tickell says that Steele assisted in this paper.
[196] See No. 250.
[197] Mary Astell (see Nos. 32 and 166).
[198] "Fables," iii. 17. 12. The correct reading is "stulta est gloria."
[199] See No. 256.
=No. 254.= [ADDISON and STEELE.[200]
Splendidè mendax.----
HOR., 3 Od. xi. 35.
From _Tuesday, Nov. 21_, to _Thursday, Nov. 23, 1710_.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 22._
There are no books which I more delight in than in travels, especially those that describe remote countries, and give the writer an opportunity of showing his parts without incurring any danger of being examined or contradicted. Among all the authors of this kind, our renowned countryman Sir John Mandeville[201] has distinguished himself, by the copiousness of his invention, and greatness of his genius. The second to Sir John I take to have been Ferdinand Mendez Pinto,[202] a person of infinite adventure and unbounded imagination. One reads the voyages of these two great wits with as much astonishment as the travels of Ulysses in Homer, or of the Red-Cross Knight in Spenser. All is enchanted ground and fairy-land.
I have got into my hands by great chance several manuscripts of these two eminent authors, which are filled with greater wonders than any of those they have communicated to the public; and indeed, were they not so well attested, would appear altogether improbable. I am apt to think, the ingenious authors did not publish them with the rest of their works, lest they should pass for fictions and fables: a caution not unnecessary, when the reputation of their veracity was not yet established in the world. But as this reason has now no further weight, I shall make the public a present of these curious pieces at such times as I shall find myself unprovided with other subjects.
The present paper I intend to fill with an extract of Sir John's journal, in which that learned and worthy knight gives an account of the freezing and thawing of several short speeches which he made in the territories of Nova Zembla.[203] I need not inform my reader, that the author of "Hudibras" alludes to this strange quality in that cold climate, when, speaking of abstracted notions clothed in a visible shape, he adds that apt simile:
_Like words congealed in Northern air._[204]
Not to keep my reader any longer in suspense, the relation put into modern language is as follows:
"We were separated by a storm in the latitude of 73, insomuch that only the ship which I was in, with a Dutch and a French vessel, got safe into a creek of Nova Zembla. We landed, in order to refit our vessels, and store ourselves with provisions. The crew of each vessel made themselves a cabin of turf and wood, at some distance from each other, to fence themselves against the inclemencies of the weather, which was severe beyond imagination. We soon observed, that in talking to one another we lost several of our words, and could not hear one another at above two yards' distance, and that too when we sat very near the fire. After much perplexity, I found that our words froze in the air before they could reach the ears of the person to whom they were spoken. I was soon confirmed in this conjecture, when, upon the increase of the cold, the whole company grew dumb, or rather deaf; for every man was sensible, as we afterwards found, that he spoke as well as ever; but the sounds no sooner took air than they were condensed and lost. It was now a miserable spectacle to see us nodding and gaping at one another, every man talking, and no man heard. One might observe a seaman that could hail a ship at a league distance, beckoning with his hands, straining his lungs, and tearing his throat, but all in vain.
_----Nec vox, nec verba, sequuntur._[205]
"We continued here three weeks in this dismal plight. At length, upon a turn of wind, the air about us began to thaw. Our cabin was immediately filled with a dry clattering sound, which I afterwards found to be the crackling of consonants that broke above our heads, and were often mixed with a gentle hissing, which I imputed to the letter S, that occurs so frequently in the English tongue. I soon after felt a breeze of whispers rushing by my ear; for those being of a soft and gentle substance, immediately liquefied in the warm wind that blew across our cabin. These were soon followed by syllables and short words, and at length by entire sentences, that melted sooner or later, as they were more or less congealed; so that we now heard everything that had been spoken during the whole three weeks that we had been silent, if I may use that expression. It was now very early in the morning, and yet, to my surprise, I heard somebody say, 'Sir John, it is midnight, and time for the ship's crew to go to bed.' This I knew to be the pilot's voice, and upon recollecting myself, I concluded that he had spoken these words to me some days before, though I could not hear them before the present thaw. My reader will easily imagine how the whole crew was amazed, to hear every man talking, and see no man opening his mouth. In the midst of this great surprise we were all in, we heard a volley of oaths and curses, lasting for a long while, and uttered in a hoarse voice, which I knew belonged to the boatswain, who was a very choleric fellow, and had taken his opportunity of cursing and swearing at me when he thought I could not hear him; for I had several times given him the strappado on that account, as I did not fail to repeat it for these his pious soliloquies when I got him on shipboard.
"I must not omit the names of several beauties in Wapping, which were heard every now and then, in the midst of a long sigh that accompanied them; as, 'Dear Kate!' 'Pretty Mrs. Peggy!' 'When shall I see my Sue again?' This betrayed several amours which had been concealed till that time, and furnished us with a great deal of mirth in our return to England.
"When this confusion of voices was pretty well over, though I was afraid to offer at speaking, as fearing I should not be heard, I proposed a visit to the Dutch cabin, which lay about a mile farther up into the country. My crew were extremely rejoiced to find they had again recovered their hearing, though every man uttered his voice with the same apprehensions that I had done.
_----Et timide verba intermissa retentat._[206]
"At about half a mile's distance from our cabin, we heard the groanings of a bear, which at first startled us; but upon inquiry we were informed by some of our company, that he was dead, and now lay in salt, having been killed upon that very spot about a fortnight before, in the time of the frost. Not far from the same place we were likewise entertained with some posthumous snarls and barkings of a fox.
"We at length arrived at the little Dutch settlement, and upon entering the room, found it filled with sighs that smelt of brandy, and several other unsavoury sounds that were altogether inarticulate. My valet, who was an Irishman, fell into so great a rage at what he heard, that he drew his sword; but not knowing where to lay the blame, he put it up again. We were stunned with these confused noises, but did not hear a single word till about half-an-hour after; which I ascribed to the harsh and obdurate sounds of that language, which wanted more time than ours to melt and become audible.
"After having here met with a very hearty welcome, we went to the French cabin, who, to make amends for their three weeks' silence, were talking and disputing with greater rapidity and confusion than ever I heard in an assembly even of that nation. Their language as I found, upon the first giving of the weather, fell asunder and dissolved. I was here convinced of an error into which I had before fallen; for I fancied, that for the freezing of the sound, it was necessary for it to be wrapped up, and, as it were, preserved in breath; but I found my mistake, when I heard the sound of a kit playing a minuet over our heads. I asked the occasion of it; upon which one of the company told me, that it would play there above a week longer if the thaw continued; 'for,' says he, 'finding ourselves bereft of speech, we prevailed upon one of the company, who had this musical instrument about him, to play to us from morning to night; all which time we employed in dancing, in order to dissipate our chagrin, _et tuer le temps_.'"
Here Sir John gives very good philosophical reasons why the kit could be heard during the frost; but as they are something prolix, I pass them over in silence, and shall only observe, that the honourable author seems, by his quotations, to have been well versed in the ancient poets, which perhaps raised his fancy above the ordinary pitch of historians, and very much contributed to the embellishment of his writings.
FOOTNOTES:
[200] "Sir R. Steele assisted in this paper" (Tickell).
[201] Several popular editions of Mandeville's travels appeared in Queen Anne's reign.
[202] The account of the adventures of this Portuguese traveller was published at Lisbon in 1614. An English translation by Henry Coggan appeared in 1663.
[203] The germ of this paper on frozen voices may have been found in Rabelais (Book iv. chaps. lv. lvi.), or in Heylin's "Little Description of the Great World" (1629), p. 345.
[204] "Hudibras," Part i. canto i. 148.
[205] "Nec vox tentataque verba sequuntur" (Ovid, "Met." xi. 326).
[206] Ovid, "Met." i. 746.
=No. 255.= [ADDISON.
From _Thursday, Nov. 23_, to _Saturday, Nov. 25, 1710_.
----Nec te tua plurima, Panthu, Labentem pietas, nec Apollinis infula texit.
VIRG., Æn. ii. 429.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 24._
"TO THE CENSOR OF GREAT BRITAIN.
"SIR,
"I am at present under very great difficulties, which it is not in the power of any one, besides yourself, to redress. Whether or no you shall think it a proper case to come before your Court of Honour, I cannot tell; but thus it is: I am chaplain to an honourable family, very regular at the hours of devotion, and I hope of an unblamable life; but for not offering to rise at a second course, I found my patron and his lady very sullen and out of humour, though at first I did not know the reason of it. At length, when I happened to help myself to a jelly, the lady of the house, otherwise a devout woman, told me, that it did not become a man of my cloth to delight in such frivolous food: but as I still continued to sit out the last course, I was yesterday informed by the butler, that his lordship had no further occasion for my service. All which is humbly submitted to your consideration by,
"Sir, "Your most humble Servant, &c."[207]
The case of this gentleman deserves pity, especially if he loves sweetmeats, to which, if I may guess by his letter, he is no enemy. In the meantime, I have often wondered at the indecency of discarding the holiest man from the table as soon as the most delicious parts of the entertainment are served up, and could never conceive a reason for so absurd a custom. Is it because a liquorish palate or a sweet tooth (as they call it) is not consistent with the sanctity of his character? This is but a trifling pretence. No man of the most rigid virtue gives offence by any excesses in plum-pudding or plum-porridge, and that, because they are the first parts of the dinner. Is there anything that tends to incitation in sweetmeats more than in ordinary dishes? Certainly not. Sugar-plums are a very innocent diet, and conserves of a much colder nature than your common pickles. I have sometimes thought that the ceremony of the chaplain's flying away from the dessert was typical and figurative, to mark out to the company how they ought to retire from all the luscious baits of temptation, and deny their appetites the gratifications that are most pleasing to them; or at least to signify, that we ought to stint ourselves in our most lawful satisfactions, and not make our pleasure, but our support, the end of eating: but most certainly, if such a lesson of temperance had been necessary at a table, our clergy would have recommended it to all the lay-masters of families, and not have disturbed other men's tables with such unseasonable examples of abstinence. The original, therefore, of this barbarous custom I take to have been merely accidental. The chaplain retired out of pure complaisance to make room for the removal of the dishes, or possibly for the ranging of the dessert. This by degrees grew into a duty, till at length, as the fashion improved, the good man found himself cut off from the third part of the entertainment; and if the arrogance of the patron goes on, it is not impossible but, in the next generation, he may see himself reduced to the tithe, or tenth dish of the table; a sufficient caution not to part with any privilege we are once possessed of. It was usual for the priest in old times to feast upon the sacrifice, nay the honey-cake, while the hungry laity looked upon him with great devotion, or as the late Lord Rochester describes it in a very lively manner:
_And while the priest did eat, the people stared._
At present the custom is inverted; the laity feast, while the priest stands by as a humble spectator. This necessarily puts the good man upon making great ravages on all the dishes that stand near him, and distinguishing himself by voraciousness of appetite, as knowing that his time is short. I would fain ask these stiff-necked patrons, whether they would not take it ill of a chaplain that, in his grace after meat, should return thanks for the whole entertainment, with an exception to the dessert? And yet I cannot but think, that in such a proceeding he would but deal with them as they deserved. What would a Roman Catholic priest think, who is always helped first, and placed next the ladies, should he see a clergyman giving his company the slip at the first appearance of the tarts or sweetmeats? Would not he believe that he had the same antipathy to a candied orange, or a piece of puff-paste, as some have to a Cheshire cheese, or a breast of mutton? Yet to so ridiculous a height is this foolish custom grown, that even the Christmas pie, which in its very nature is a kind of consecrated cate, and a badge of distinction, is often forbidden to the Druid of the family. Strange! that a sirloin of beef, whether boiled or roasted, when entire, is exposed to his utmost depredations and incisions; but if minced into small pieces, and tossed up with plums and sugar, changes its property, and, forsooth, is meat for his master.
In this case I know not which to censure, the patron or the chaplain, the insolence of power, or the abjectness of dependence. For my own part, I have often blushed to see a gentleman, whom I knew to have much more wit and learning than myself, and who was bred up with me at the University upon the same foot of a liberal education, treated in such an ignominious manner, and sunk beneath those of his own rank, by reason of that character which ought to bring him honour. This deters men of generous minds from placing themselves in such a station of life, and by that means frequently excludes persons of quality from the improving and agreeable conversation of a learned and obsequious friend.
Mr. Oldham lets us know, that he was affrighted from the thought of such an employment by the scandalous sort of treatment which often accompanies it:
_Some think themselves exalted to the sky If they light in some noble family: Diet, a horse, and thirty pounds a year, Besides the advantage of his lordship's ear. The credit of the business, and the state, Are things that in a youngster's sense sound great. Little the inexperienced wretch does know What slavery he oft must undergo: Who, though in silken scarf and cassock dressed, Wears but a gayer livery at best. When dinner calls, the implement must wait, With holy words to consecrate the meat; But hold it for a favour seldom known, If he be deigned the honour to sit down. Soon as the tarts appear, Sir Crape, withdraw, Those dainties are not for a spiritual maw. Observe your distance, and be sure to stand Hard by the cistern with your cap in hand: There for diversion you may pick your teeth, Till the kind voider comes for your relief. Let others who such meannesses can brook, Strike countenance to every great man's look; I rate my freedom higher._[208]
This author's raillery is the raillery of a friend, and does not turn the sacred order into ridicule, but is a just censure on such persons as take advantage from the necessities of a man of merit, to impose on him hardships that are by no means suitable to the dignity of his profession.[209]
FOOTNOTES:
[207] Mr. Overton, in his "Life in the English Church, 1660-1714," denies the truth of Macaulay's account of the condition of the clergy. He points out that the sons of many noble families were in the Church, and many clergymen of the highest standing were once domestic chaplains. But there was much "contempt of the clergy," as Eachard puts it, in his book published in 1670. Many enjoyed pluralities, which, of course, meant that a larger number than would otherwise have been the case were poor all their lives. Swift wrote: "I never dined with the chaplains till to-day; but my friend Gastrel and the Dean of Rochester had often invited me, and I happened to be disengaged: it is the worst provided table at court. We ate on pewter. Every chaplain, when he is made a dean, gives a piece of plate, and so they have got a little, some of it very old" ("Journal," October 6, 1711). See, too, Swift's "Project for the Advancement of Religion," and "Directions to the Waiting-Maid." Many private chaplains had salaries of £10 to £30 a year, with vales, and were called Mess Johns, trencher chaplains, and young Levites (Lecky's "History of England in the Eighteenth Century," i. 77, 78). Bishop Bramhall replied to Eachard in 1671, in "An Answer to a Letter of Inquiry," &c., and said that some gentlemen, at any rate, treated their chaplains with all proper respect. Edward Chamberlayne, on the other hand, in his "Angliæ Notitia" (1669), said that men thought it a stain to their blood to make their sons clergymen, and that women were ashamed to marry with any of them.
[208] Oldham's "Satire addressed to a Friend that is about to leave the University."
[209] "The last paper having been worked off in different presses, there are some errata in one set of them, which the reader is desired to correct," &c. (folio).
=No. 256.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Saturday, Nov. 25_, to _Tuesday, Nov. 28, 1710_.
--Nostrum est tantas componere lites.
VIRG., Eclog. iii. 108.[210]
The Proceedings of the Court of Honour, held in Sheer Lane, on Monday, the 20th of November, 1710, before ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.[211]
Peter Plumb, of London, merchant, was indicted by the Honourable Mr. Thomas Gules,[212] of Gule Hall, in the county of Salop, for that the said Peter Plumb did in Lombard Street, London, between the hours of two and three in the afternoon, meet the said Mr. Thomas Gules, and after a short salutation, put on his hat, value fivepence, while the Honourable Mr. Gules stood bareheaded for the space of two seconds. It was further urged against the criminal, that during his discourse with the prosecutor, he feloniously stole the wall of him, having clapped his back against it in such a manner that it was impossible for Mr. Gules to recover it again at his taking leave of him. The prosecutor alleged, that he was the cadet of a very ancient family; and that according to the principles of all the younger brothers of the said family, he had never sullied himself with business, but had chosen rather to starve like a man of honour than do anything beneath his quality. He produced several witnesses, that he had never employed himself beyond the twisting of a whip, or the making of a pair of nut-crackers, in which he only worked for his diversion, in order to make a present now and then to his friends. The prisoner being asked what he could say for himself, cast several reflections upon the Honourable Mr. Gules: as, that he was not worth a groat; that nobody in the city would trust him for a halfpenny; that he owed him money, which he had promised to pay him several times, but never kept his word; and in short, that he was an idle, beggarly fellow, and of no use to the public. This sort of language was very severely reprimanded by the Censor, who told the criminal, that he spoke in contempt of the court, and that he should be proceeded against for contumacy if he did not change his style. The prisoner therefore desired to be heard by his counsel, who urged in his defence, that he put on his hat through ignorance, and took the wall by accident. They likewise produced several witnesses, that he made several motions with his hat in his hand, which are generally understood as an invitation to the person we talk with to be covered; and that the gentleman not taking the hint, he was forced to put on his hat, as being troubled with a cold. There was likewise an Irishman who deposed, that he had heard him cough three and twenty times that morning. And as for the wall, it was alleged that he had taken it inadvertently to save himself from a shower of rain which was then falling. The Censor having consulted the men of honour who sat at his right hand on the bench, found they were all of opinion, that the defence made by the prisoner's counsel did rather aggravate than extenuate his crime; that the motions and intimations of the hat were a token of superiority in conversation, and therefore not to be used by the criminal to a man of the prosecutor's quality, who was likewise vested with a double title to the wall at the time of their conversation, both as it was the upper hand, and as it was a shelter from the weather. The evidence being very full and clear, the jury, without going out of court, declared their opinion unanimously by the mouth of their foreman, that the prosecutor was bound in honour to make the sun shine through the criminal, or, as they afterwards explained themselves, to whip him through the lungs.
The Censor knitting his brows into a frown, and looking very sternly upon the jury, after a little pause, gave them to know, that this court was erected for the finding out of penalties suitable to offences, and to restrain the outrages of private justice; and that he expected they should moderate their verdict. The jury therefore retired, and being willing to comply with the advices of the Censor, after an hour's consultation, declared their opinion as follows:
"That in consideration this was Peter Plumb's first offence, and that there did not appear any _malice prepense_ in it, as also that he lived in good reputation among his neighbours, and that his taking the wall was only _se defendendo_, the prosecutor should let him escape with life, and content himself with the slitting of his nose, and the cutting off both his ears."
Mr. Bickerstaff smiling upon the court, told them, that he thought the punishment, even under its present mitigation, too severe; and that such penalties might be of ill consequence in a trading nation. He therefore pronounced sentence against the criminal in the following manner: that his hat, which was the instrument of offence, should be forfeited to the court; that the criminal should go to the warehouse from whence he came, and thence, as occasion should require, proceed to the Exchange, or Garraway's Coffee-house, in what manner he pleased; but that neither he nor any of the family of the Plumbs should hereafter appear in the streets of London out of their coaches, that so the footway might be left open and undisturbed for their betters.
Dathan, a peddling Jew, and T.R., a Welshman, were indicted by the keeper of an alehouse in Westminster, for breaking the peace and two earthen mugs, in a dispute about the antiquity of their families, to the great detriment of the house, and disturbance of the whole neighbourhood. Dathan said for himself, that he was provoked to it by the Welshman, who pretended that the Welsh were an ancienter people than the Jews; "whereas," says he, "I can show by this genealogy in my hand, that I am the son of Meshec, that was the son of Naboth, that was the son of Shalem, that was the son of----" The Welshman here interrupted him, and told him that he could produce shennalogy as well as himself; for that he was John ap Rice, ap Shenkin, ap Shones. He then turned himself to the Censor, and told him in the same broken accent, and with much warmth, that the Jew would needs uphold that King Cadwallader was younger than Issachar. Mr. Bickerstaff seemed very much inclined to give sentence against Dathan, as being a Jew, but finding reasons, by some expressions which the Welshman let fall in asserting the antiquity of his family, to suspect that the said Welshman was a Pre-Adamite,[213] he suffered the jury to go out without any previous admonition. After some time they returned, and gave their verdict, that it appearing the persons at the bar did neither of them wear a sword, and that consequently they had no right to quarrel upon a point of honour: to prevent such frivolous appeals for the future, they should both of them be tossed in the same blanket, and there adjust the superiority as they could agree it between themselves. The Censor confirmed the verdict.
Richard Newman was indicted by Major Punto, for having used the words, "Perhaps it may be so," in a dispute with the said Major. The Major urged, that the word "perhaps" was questioning his veracity, and that it was an indirect manner of giving him the lie. Richard Newman had nothing more to say for himself, than that he intended no such thing, and threw himself upon the mercy of the court. The jury brought in their verdict special.
Mr. Bickerstaff stood up, and after having cast his eyes over the whole assembly, hem'd thrice. He then acquainted them, that he had laid down a rule to himself, which he was resolved never to depart from, and which, as he conceived, would very much conduce to the shortening the business of the court; "I mean," says he, "never to allow of the lie being given by construction, implication, or induction, but by the sole use of the word itself." He then proceeded to show the great mischiefs that had arisen to the English nation from that pernicious monosyllable; that it had bred the most fatal quarrels between the dearest friends; that it had frequently thinned the Guards, and made great havoc in the army; that it had sometimes weakened the city trained-bands; and, in a word, had destroyed many of the bravest men in the isle of Great Britain. For the prevention of which evils for the future, he instructed the jury to present the word itself as a nuisance in the English tongue; and further promised them, that he would, upon such their presentment, publish an edict of the court for the entire banishment and exclusion of it out of the discourses and conversation of all civil societies.
"This is a true copy.--CHARLES LILLIE."
Monday next is set apart for the trial of several female causes.
_N.B._--The case of the hassock will come on between the hours of nine and ten.[214]
FOOTNOTES:
[210] Virgil's words are, "Non nostrum inter vos tantas," &c.
[211] See No 253.
[212] Forster observed that Mr. Thomas Gules is the forerunner of Will Wimble, of the _Spectator_.
[213] See vol. ii. p. 150.
[214] See No. 259.
=No. 257.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Nov. 28_, to _Thursday, Nov. 30, 1710_.
In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas Corpora: Di, cœptis (nam vos mutastis) et illac Aspirate meis.----
OVID, Met. i. 1.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 29._
Every nation is distinguished by productions that are peculiar to it. Great Britain is particularly fruitful in religions, that shoot up and flourish in this climate more than in any other. We are so famous abroad for our great variety of sects and opinions, that an ingenious friend of mine, who is lately returned from his travels, assures me, there is a show at this time carried up and down in Germany, which represents all the religions of Great Britain in waxwork. Notwithstanding that the pliancy of the matter in which the images are wrought makes it capable of being moulded into all shapes and figures, my friend tells me, that he did not think it possible for it to be twisted and tortured into so many screwed faces and wry features as appeared in several of the figures that composed the show. I was indeed so pleased with the design of the German artist, that I begged my friend to give me an account of it in all its particulars, which he did after the following manner:
"I have often," says he, "been present at a show of elephants, camels, dromedaries, and other strange creatures, but I never saw so great an assembly of spectators as were met together at the opening of this great piece of waxwork. We were all placed in a large hall, according to the price that we had paid for our seats. The curtain that hung before the show was made by a master of tapestry, who had woven it in the figure of a monstrous hydra that had several heads, which brandished out their tongues, and seemed to hiss at each other. Some of these heads were large and entire; and where any of them had been lopped away, there sprouted up several in the room of them; insomuch that for one head cut off, a man might see ten, twenty, or a hundred of a smaller size, creeping through the wound. In short, the whole picture was nothing but confusion and bloodshed. On a sudden," says my friend, "I was startled with a flourish of many musical instruments that I had never heard before, which was followed by a short tune (if it might be so called), wholly made up of jars and discords. Among the rest, there was an organ, a bagpipe, a groaning-board,[215] a stentorophonic-trumpet, with several wind instruments of a most disagreeable sound, which I do not so much as know the name of. After a short flourish, the curtain was drawn up, and we were presented with the most extraordinary assembly of figures that ever entered into a man's imagination. The design of the workman was so well expressed in the dumb show before us, that it was not hard for an Englishman to comprehend the meaning of it.
"The principal figures were placed in a row, consisting of seven persons. The middle figure, which immediately attracted the eyes of the whole company, and was much bigger than the rest, was formed like a matron, dressed in the habit of an elderly woman of quality in Queen Elizabeth's days. The most remarkable parts of her dress was the beaver with the steeple crown, the scarf that was darker than sable, and the lawn apron that was whiter than ermine. Her gown was of the richest black velvet, and just upon her heart studded with large diamonds of an inestimable value, disposed in the form of a cross. She bore an inexpressible cheerfulness and dignity in her aspect; and though she seemed in years, appeared with so much spirit and vivacity, as gave her at the same time an air of old age and immortality. I found my heart touched with so much love and reverence at the sight of her, that the tears ran down my face as I looked upon her; and still the more I looked upon her, the more my heart was melted with the sentiments of filial tenderness and duty. I discovered every moment something so charming in this figure, that I could scarce take my eyes off it. On its right hand there sat the figure of a woman so covered with ornaments, that her face, her body, and her hands were almost entirely hid under them. The little you could see of her face was painted; and what I thought very odd, had something in it like artificial wrinkles; but I was the less surprised at it when I saw upon her forehead an old-fashioned tower of grey hairs. Her head-dress rose very high by three several storeys or degrees; her garments had a thousand colours in them, and were embroidered with crosses in gold, silver and silk: she had nothing on, so much as a glove or a slipper, which was not marked with this figure; nay, so superstitiously fond did she appear of it, that she sat cross-legged. I was quickly sick of this tawdry composition of ribands, silks, and jewels, and therefore cast my eye on a dame which was just the reverse of it. I need not tell my reader, that the lady before described was Popery, or that she I am now going to describe is Presbytery. She sat on the left hand of the venerable matron, and so much resembled her in the features of her countenance, that she seemed her sister; but at the same time that one observed a likeness in her beauty, one could not but take notice, that there was something in it sickly and splenetic. Her face had enough to discover the relation, but it was drawn up into a peevish figure, soured with discontent, and overcast with melancholy. She seemed offended at the matron for the shape of her hat, as too much resembling the triple coronet of the person who sat by her. One might see likewise, that she dissented from the white apron and the cross; for which reasons she had made herself a plain, homely dowdy, and turned her face towards the sectaries that sat on her left hand, as being afraid of looking upon the matron, lest she should see the harlot by her.
"On the right hand of Popery sat Judaism, represented by an old man embroidered with phylacteries, and distinguished by many typical figures, which I had not skill enough to unriddle. He was placed among the rubbish of a temple; but instead of weeping over it (which I should have expected from him), he was counting out a bag of money upon the ruins of it.
"On his right hand was Deism, or natural religion. This was a figure of a half-naked, awkward country wench, who with proper ornaments and education would have made an agreeable and beautiful appearance; but for want of those advantages, was such a spectacle as a man would blush to look upon.
"I have now," continued my friend, "given you an account of those who were placed on the right hand of the matron, and who, according to the order in which they sat, were Deism, Judaism, and Popery. On the left hand, as I told you, appeared Presbytery. The next to her was a figure which somewhat puzzled me: it was that of a man looking, with horror in his eyes, upon a silver basin filled with water. Observing something in his countenance that looked like lunacy, I fancied at first that he was to express that kind of distraction which the physicians call the hydrophobia; but considering what the intention of the show was, I immediately recollected myself, and concluded it to be Anabaptism.
"The next figure was a man that sat under a most profound composure of mind: he wore a hat whose brims were exactly parallel with the horizon: his garment had neither sleeve nor skirt, nor so much as a superfluous button. What they called his cravat, was a little piece of white linen quilled with great exactness, and hanging below his chin about two inches. Seeing a book in his hand, I asked our artist what it was, who told me it was the Quaker's religion; upon which I desired a sight of it. Upon perusal, I found it to be nothing but a new-fashioned grammar, or an art of abridging ordinary discourse. The nouns were reduced to a very small number, as the 'light,' 'friend,' 'Babylon.' The principal of his pronouns was 'thou'; and as for 'you,' 'ye,' and 'yours,' I found they were not looked upon as parts of speech in this grammar. All the verbs wanted the second person plural; the participles ended all in 'ing' or 'ed,' which were marked with a particular accent. There were no adverbs besides 'yea' and 'nay.' The same thrift was observed in the prepositions. The conjunctions were only 'hem!' and 'ha!' and the interjections brought under the three heads of 'sighing,' 'sobbing,' and 'groaning.'
"There was at the end of the grammar a little nomenclature, called 'The Christian Man's Vocabulary,' which gave new appellations, or (if you will) Christian names, to almost everything in life. I replaced the book in the hand of the figure, not without admiring the simplicity of its garb, speech, and behaviour.
"Just opposite to this row of religions, there was a statue dressed in a fool's coat, with a cap of bells upon his head, laughing and pointing at the figures that stood before him. This idiot is supposed to say in his heart what David's fool did some thousands of years ago, and was therefore designed as a proper representative of those among us who are called atheists and infidels by others, and free-thinkers by themselves.
"There were many other groups of figures which I did not know the meaning of; but seeing a collection of both sexes turning their backs upon the company, and laying their heads very close together, I inquired after their religion, and found that they called themselves the Philadelphians, or the Family of Love.
"In the opposite corner there sat another little congregation of strange figures, opening their mouths as wide as they could gape, and distinguished by the title of the Sweet Singers of Israel.
"I must not omit, that in this assembly of wax there were several pieces that moved by clockwork, and gave great satisfaction to the spectators. Behind the matron there stood one of these figures, and behind Popery another, which, as the artist told us, were each of them the genius of the person they attended. That behind Popery represented Persecution, and the other Moderation. The first of these moved by secret springs towards a great heap of dead bodies that lay piled upon one another at a considerable distance behind the principal figures. There were written on the foreheads of these dead men several hard words, as 'Pre-Adamites, 'Sabbatarians,' 'Cameronians,' 'Muggletonians,' 'Brownists,' 'Independents,' 'Masonites,' 'Camisards,' and the like. At the approach of Persecution, it was so contrived, that as she held up her bloody flag, the whole assembly of dead men, like those in the 'Rehearsal,'[216] started up and drew their swords. This was followed by great clashings and noise, when, in the midst of the tumult, the figure of Moderation moved gently towards this new army, which upon her holding up a paper in her hand, inscribed, 'Liberty of Conscience,' immediately fell into a heap of carcasses, remaining in the same quiet posture that they lay at first."
FOOTNOTES:
[215] "At the sign of the Woolsack in Newgate Market, is to be seen a strange and wonderful thing, which is, an elm-board; being touched with a hot iron, it doth express itself as if it were a man dying with groans and trembling, to the great admiration of all hearers. It hath been presented before the King and his nobles, and hath given great satisfaction" (Advertisement of 1682, in Sloane MSS., 958).
[216] In act ii. sc. 5, Bayes says, "Now here's an odd surprise: all these dead men you shall see rise up presently, at a certain note that I have made, in effaut flat, and fall a-dancing. Do you hear, dead men?"
=No. 258.= [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Nov. 30_, to _Saturday, Dec. 2, 1710_.
Occidit miseros crambe repetita----
JUV., Sat. vii. 154.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 1._
When a man keeps a constant table, he may be allowed sometimes to serve up a cold dish of meat, or toss up the fragments of a feast into a ragout. I have sometimes, in a scarcity of provisions, been obliged to take the same kind of liberty, and to entertain my reader with the leavings of a former treat. I must this day have recourse to the same method, and beg my guests to sit down to a kind of Saturday's dinner. To let the metaphor rest, I intend to fill up this paper with a bundle of letters relating to subjects on which I have formerly treated, and have ordered my bookseller to print at the end of each letter the minutes with which I endorsed it, after the first perusal of it.
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq.[217]
* * * * *
_Nov, 22, 1710._
"SIR,
Dining yesterday with Mr. South British and Mr. William North Briton, two gentlemen who, before you ordered it otherwise,[218] were known by the names of Mr. English and Mr. William Scott. Among other things, the maid of the house (who in her time I believe may have been a North British warming-pan) brought us up a dish of North British collops. We liked our entertainment very well, only we observed the table-cloth, being not so fine as we could have wished, was North British cloth: but the worst of it was, we were disturbed all dinner-time by the noise of the children, who were playing in the paved court at North British hoppers; so we paid our North Briton sooner than we designed, and took coach to North Britain Yard, about which place most of us live. We had indeed gone afoot, only we were under some apprehensions lest a North British mist should wet a South British man to the skin.
"We think this matter properly expressed, according to the accuracy of the new style settled by you in one of your late papers. You will please to give your opinion upon it to,
"Sir, "Your most humble Servants, "J. S. "M. P. "N. R."
See if this letter be conformable to the directions given in the _Tatler_ above mentioned.
* * * * *
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq.
_Kent, Nov. 22, 1710_.
"SIR,
"A gentleman in my neighbourhood, who happens to be brother to a lord, though neither his father nor grandfather were so, is perpetually making use of this phrase, 'a person of my quality.' He has it in his mouth fifty times a day, to his labourers, his servants, his children, his tenants, and his neighbours. Wet or dry, at home or abroad, drunk or sober, angry or pleased, it is the constant burden of his style. Sir, as you are Censor of Great Britain, as you value the repose of a loyal county, and the reputation of my neighbour, I beg you will take this cruel grievance into your consideration, else, for my own particular, I am resolved to give up my farm, sell my stock, and remove with my wife and seven children next spring to Falmouth or Berwick, if my strength will permit me, being brought into a very weak condition. I am (with great respect),
"Sir, "Your most obedient and "Languishing Servant, &c."
Let this be referred to the Court of Honour.
* * * * *
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"I am a young lady of a good fortune, and at present invested by several lovers who lay close siege to me, and carry on their attacks with all possible diligence. I know which of them has the first place in my own heart, but would freely cross my private inclinations to make choice of the man who loves me best, which it is impossible for me to know, all of them pretending to an equal passion for me. Let me therefore beg of you, dear Mr. Bickerstaff, to lend me your Ithuriel's spear,[219] in order to touch this troop of rivals; after which I will most faithfully return it to you again, with the greatest gratitude. I am,
Sir, &c."
Query 1. What figure this lady doth think her lover will appear in? Or what symptoms he will betray of his passion upon being touched?
2. Whether a touch of her fan may not have the same efficacy as a touch of Ithuriel's spear?
* * * * *
"_Great Lincoln's Inn Square, Nov 29._
"HONOURED SIR,
"Gratitude obliges me to make this public acknowledgment of the eminent service you have done myself in particular, and the whole body of chaplains, I hope, in general.[220] Coming home on Sunday about dinner-time, I found things strangely altered for the better; the porter smiled in my face when he let me in, the footman bowed to me as I passed him, the steward shook me by the hand, and Mrs. Beatrice dropped me a curtsey as she went along. I was surprised at all this civility, and knew not to what I might ascribe it, except to my bright beaver and shining scarf that were new that day. But I was still more astonished to find such an agreeable change at the table: my lord helped me to a fat slice of venison with his own hand, and my lady did me the honour to drink to me. I offered to rise at my usual time, but was desired to sit still, with this kind expression, 'Come, doctor, a jelly or a conserve will do you no harm; don't be afraid of the dessert.' I was so confounded with the favour, that I returned my thanks in a most awkward manner, wondering what was the meaning of this total transformation: but my lord soon put an end to my admiration, by showing me a paper that challenged you, sir, for its author, and rallied me very agreeably on the subject, asking me, which was best handled, the lord or his chaplain? I owned myself to think the banter sharpest against ourselves, and that these were trifling matters, not fit for a philosopher to insist on. His lordship was in so good a humour, that he ordered me to return his thanks with my own, and my lady joins in the same, with this one exception to your paper, that the chaplain in her family was always allowed mince-pies from All-Hallows to Candlemas. I am,
"Sir, "Your most obliged, "Humble Servant, "T.W."
Requires no answer.
* * * * *
_Oxford, November 27_.
"Mr. CENSOR,
"I have read your account of Nova Zembla[221] with great pleasure, and have ordered it to be transcribed in a little hand, and inserted in Mr. Tonson's late edition of "Hudibras." I could wish you would furnish us with more notes upon that author, to fill up the place of those dull annotations with which several editions of that book have been encumbered. I would particularly desire of you to give the world the story of Talicotius,[222] who makes a very eminent figure in the first canto, not having been able to meet with any account of the said Talicotius in the writings of any other author. I am (with the most profound respect),
"The most humble of your Admirers, "Q. Z."
To be answered next Thursday, if nothing more material intervenes.
* * * * *
"Mr. CENSOR,
"In your survey of the people, you must have observed crowds of single persons that are qualified to increase the subjects of this glorious island, and yet neglect that duty to their country. In order to reclaim such persons, I lay before you this proposal.
"Your most obedient Servant, "TH. CL."[223]
This to be considered on Saturday next.
FOOTNOTES:
[217] "Steele, the rogue, has done the impudentest thing in the world: he said something in a _Tatler_, that we ought to use the word 'Great Britain,' and not 'England,' in common conversation; as, 'the finest lady in Great Britain,' &c. Upon this Rowe, Prior, and I sent him a letter, turning this into ridicule. He has to-day printed the letter, and signed it J. S., M. P., and N. R., the first letters of all our names. Congreve told me to-day, he smoked it immediately" (Swift's "Journal," December 2, 1710).
[218] See No. 241.
[219] See No. 237.
[220] See No. 255.
[221] See No. 254.
[222] See No. 260.
[223] Thomas Clement (see No. 261).
=No. 259.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Saturday, Dec. 2_, to _Tuesday, Dec. 5, 1710_.
----Vexat censura columbas.--JUV., Sat. ii. 63.
A Continuation of the Journal of the Court of Honour, held in Sheer Lane, on Monday, the 27th of November, before ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.[224]
Elizabeth Makebate,[225] of the parish of St. Catherine's, spinster, was indicted for surreptitiously taking away the hassock from under the Lady Grave-Airs, between the hours of four and five, on Sunday the 26th of November. The prosecutor deposed, that as she stood up to make a curtsey to a person of quality in a neighbouring pew, the criminal conveyed away the hassock by stealth, insomuch that the prosecutor was obliged to sit all the while she was at church, or to say her prayers in a posture that did not become a woman of her quality. The prisoner pleaded inadvertency; and the jury were going to bring it in chance-medley, had not several witnesses been produced against the said Elizabeth Makebate, that she was an old offender, and a woman of a bad reputation. It appeared in particular, that on the Sunday before she had detracted from a new petticoat of Mrs. Mary Doelittle, having said in the hearing of several credible witnesses, that the said petticoat was scoured,[226] to the great grief and detriment of the said Mary Doelittle. There were likewise many evidences produced against the criminal, that though she never failed to come to church on Sunday, she was a most notorious Sabbath-breaker, and that she spent her whole time, during divine service, in disparaging other people's clothes, and whispering to those who sat next her. Upon the whole, she was found guilty of the indictment, and received sentence to ask pardon of the prosecutor upon her bare knees, without either cushion or hassock under her, in the face of the court.
_N.B._--As soon as the sentence was executed on the criminal, which was done in open court with the utmost severity, the first lady of the bench on Mr. Bickerstaff's right hand stood up, and made a motion to the court, that whereas it was impossible for women of fashion to dress themselves before the church was half done, and whereas many confusions and inconveniences did arise thereupon, it might be lawful for them to send a footman, in order to keep their places, as was usual in other polite and well-regulated assemblies.[227] The motion was ordered to be entered in the books, and considered at a more convenient time.
Charles Cambric, linen-draper, in the city of Westminster, was indicted for speaking obscenely to the Lady Penelope Touchwood. It appeared, that the prosecutor and her woman going in a stage-coach from London to Brentford, where they were to be met by the lady's own chariot, the criminal and another of his acquaintance travelled with them in the same coach, at which time the prisoner talked bawdy for the space of three miles and a half. The prosecutor alleged that over against the Old Fox at Knightsbridge he mentioned the word "linen"; that at the farther end of Kensington he made use of the term "smock"; and that before he came to Hammersmith, he talked almost a quarter of an hour upon wedding-shifts. The prosecutor's woman confirmed what her lady had said, and added further, that she had never seen her lady in so great a confusion, and in such a taking, as she was during the whole discourse of the criminal. The prisoner had little to say for himself, but that he talked only in his own trade, and meant no hurt by what he said. The jury, however, found him guilty, and represented by their forewoman, that such discourses were apt to sully the imagination, and that by a concatenation of ideas, the word "linen" implied many things that were not proper to be stirred up in the mind of a woman who was of the prosecutor's quality, and therefore gave it as their verdict, that the linen-draper should lose his tongue. Mr. Bickerstaff said, he thought the prosecutor's ears were as much to blame as the prisoner's tongue, and therefore gave sentence as follows: that they should both be placed over against one another in the middle of the court, there to remain for the space of one quarter of an hour, during which time the linen-draper was to be gagged, and the lady to hold her hands close upon both her ears, which was executed accordingly.
Edward Callicot was indicted as an accomplice to Charles Cambric, for that he, the said Edward Callicot, did, by his silence and his smiles, seem to approve and abet the said Charles Cambric in everything he said. It appeared, that the prisoner was foreman of the shop to the aforesaid Charles Cambric, and by his post obliged to smile at everything that the other should be pleased to say: upon which he was acquitted.
Josias Shallow was indicted in the name of Dame Winifred, sole relict of Richard Dainty, Esq., for having said several times in company, and in the hearing of several persons there present, that he was extremely obliged to the widow Dainty, and that he should never be able sufficiently to express his gratitude. The prosecutor urged that this might blast her reputation, and that it was in effect a boasting of favours which he had never received. The prisoner seemed to be much astonished at the construction which was put upon his words, and said that he meant nothing by them, but that the widow had befriended him in a lease, and was very kind to his younger sister. The jury finding him a little weak in his understanding, without going out of the court, brought in their verdict Ignoramus.
Ursula Goodenough was accused by the Lady Betty Wouldbe, for having said that she, the Lady Betty Wouldbe, was painted. The prisoner brought several persons of good credit to witness to her reputation, and proved by undeniable evidences, that she was never at the place where the words were said to have been uttered. The Censor observing the behaviour of the prosecutor, found reason to believe that she had indicted the prisoner for no other reason but to make her complexion be taken notice of, which indeed was very fresh and beautiful: he therefore asked the offender with a very stern voice, how she could presume to spread so groundless a report? and whether she saw any colours in the Lady Wouldbe's face that could procure credit to such a falsehood? "Do you see," says he, "any lilies or roses in her cheeks, any bloom, any probability----" The prosecutor, not able to bear such language any longer, told him, that he talked like a blind old fool, and that she was ashamed to have entertained any opinion of his wisdom: but she was soon put to silence, and sentenced to wear her mask for five months, and not to presume to show her face till the town should be empty.
Benjamin Buzzard, Esq., was indicted for having told the Lady Everbloom at a public ball, that she looked very well for a woman of her years. The prisoner not denying the fact, and persisting before the court that he looked upon it as a compliment, the jury brought him in _non compos mentis_.
* * * * *
The court then adjourned to Monday the 11th instant.
"_Copia vera._--CHARLES LILLIE."
FOOTNOTES:
[224] See Nos. 253, 256.
[225] A makebate is breeder of quarrels. Swift says, "Outrageous party writers are like a couple of makebates who inflame small quarrels by a thousand stories."
[226] In Defoe's "Apparition of Mrs. Veal," her deceased friend told Mrs. Bargrave that the dress she was wearing had been scoured.
[227] It was a common practice to send servants to the theatre to keep seats for their employers.
=No. 260.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Dec. 5_, to _Thursday, Dec. 7, 1710_.
Non cuicunque datum est habere nasum.
MART., Epig. i. 41.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 6._
We have a very learned and elaborate dissertation upon thumbs in Montaigne's Essays,[228] and another upon ears in the "Tale of a Tub."[229] I am here going to write one upon noses,[230] having chosen for my text the following verses out of "Hudibras":
_So learned Talicotius from The brawny part of porter's bum Cut supplemental noses, which Lasted as long as parent breech: But when the date of nock[231] was out, Off dropped the sympathetic snout._[232]
Notwithstanding that there is nothing obscene in natural knowledge, and that I intend to give as little offence as may be to readers of a well-bred imagination, I must, for my own quiet, desire the critics (who in all times have been famous for good noses) to refrain from the lecture[233] of this curious tract. These gentlemen were formerly marked out and distinguished by the little rhinocerical nose, which was always looked upon as an instrument of derision, and which they were used to cock, toss, or draw up in a contemptuous manner, upon reading the works of their ingenious contemporaries. It is not therefore for this generation of men that I write the present transaction:
_----Minus aptus acutis Naribus horum hominum----_
but for the sake of some of my philosophical friends in the Royal Society, who peruse discourses of this nature with a becoming gravity, and a desire of improving by them.
Many are the opinions of learned men concerning the rise of that fatal distemper which has always taken a particular pleasure in venting its spite upon the nose. I have seen a little burlesque poem in Italian that gives a very pleasant account of this matter. The fable of it runs thus: Mars, the god of war, having served during the siege of Naples in the shape of a French colonel, received a visit one night from Venus, the goddess of love, who had been always his professed mistress and admirer. The poem says, she came to him in the disguise of a sutling wench, with a bottle of brandy under her arm. Let that be as it will, he managed matters so well, that she went away big-bellied, and was at length brought to bed of a little Cupid. This boy, whether it were by reason of any bad food that his father had eaten during the siege, or of any particular malignity in the stars that reigned at his nativity, came into the world with a very sickly look and crazy constitution. As soon as he was able to handle his bow, he made discoveries of a most perverse disposition. He dipped all his arrows in poison, that rotted everything they touched; and what was more particular, aimed all his shafts at the nose, quite contrary to the practice of his elder brothers, who had made a human heart their butt in all countries and ages. To break him of this roguish trick, his parents put him to school to Mercury, who did all he could to hinder him from demolishing the noses of mankind; but in spite of education the boy continued very unlucky; and though his malice was a little softened by good instructions, he would very frequently let fly an envenomed arrow, and wound his votaries oftener in the nose than in the heart. Thus far the fable.
I need not tell my learned reader that Correggio has drawn a Cupid taking his lesson from Mercury, conformable to this poem; nor that the poem itself was designed as a burlesque upon Fracastorius.[234]
It was a little after this fatal siege of Naples that Talicotius[235] began to practise in a town of Germany. He was the first clap doctor that I meet with in history, and a greater man in his age than our celebrated Dr. Wall.[236] He saw this species extremely mutilated and disfigured by this new distemper that was crept into it; and therefore, in pursuance of a very seasonable invention, set up a manufacture of noses, having first got a patent that none should presume to make noses besides himself. His first patient was a great man of Portugal, who had done good services to his country, but in the midst of them unfortunately lost his nose. Talicotius grafted a new one on the remaining part of the gristle or cartilaginous substance, which would sneeze, smell, take snuff, pronounce the letters _m_ or _n_, and, in short, do all the functions of a genuine and natural nose. There was, however, one misfortune in this experiment. The Portuguese's complexion was a little upon the subfusk, with very black eyes and dark eyebrows, and the nose being taken from a porter that had a white German skin, and cut out of those parts that are not exposed to the sun, it was very visible that the features of his face were not fellows. In a word, the Comdè resembled one of those maimed antique statues that has often a modern nose of fresh marble glued to a face of such a yellow ivory complexion as nothing can give but age. To remedy this particular for the future, the doctor got together a great collection of porters, men of all complexions, black, brown, fair, dark, sallow, pale, and ruddy; so that it was impossible for a patient of the most out-of-the-way colour not to find a nose to match it.
The doctor's house was now very much enlarged, and became a kind of college, or rather hospital, for the fashionable cripples of both sexes that resorted to him from all parts of Europe. Over his door was fastened a large golden snout, not unlike that which is placed over the great gates at Brasenose College, in Oxford; and as it is usual for the learned in foreign universities to distinguish their houses by a Latin sentence, the doctor writ underneath this great golden proboscis two verses out of Ovid:
_Militat omnis amans, habet et sua castra Cupido, Pontice, crede mihi, militat omnis amans._[237]
It is reported, that Talicotius had at one time in his house twelve German counts, nineteen French marquises, and a hundred Spanish cavaliers, besides one solitary English esquire, of whom more hereafter. Though the doctor had the monopoly of noses in his own hands, he is said not to have been unreasonable. Indeed, if a man had occasion for a high Roman nose, he must go to the price of it. A carbuncle nose likewise bore an excessive rate: but for your ordinary short turned-up noses, of which there was the greatest consumption, they cost little or nothing; at least the purchasers thought so, who would have been content to have paid much dearer for them, rather than to have gone without them.
The sympathy betwixt the nose and its parent was very extraordinary. "Hudibras" has told us, that when the porter died, the nose dropped of course, in which case it was always usual to return the nose, in order to have it interred with its first owner. The nose was likewise affected by the pain as well as death of the original proprietor. An eminent instance of this nature happened to three Spaniards whose noses were all made out of the same piece of brawn. They found them one day shoot and swell extremely, upon which they sent to know how the porter did, and heard upon inquiry, that the parent of the noses had been severely kicked the day before, and that the porter kept his bed on account of the bruises it had received. This was highly resented by the Spaniards, who found out the person that had used the porter so unmercifully, and treated him in the same manner as if the indignity had been done to their own noses. In this and several other cases it might be said, that the porters led the gentlemen by the nose.
On the other hand, if anything went amiss with the nose, the porter felt the effects of it, insomuch that it was generally articled with the patient, that he should not only abstain from all his old courses, but should on no pretence whatever smell pepper, or eat mustard; on which occasion, the part where the incision had been made was seized with unspeakable twinges and prickings.
The Englishman I before mentioned was so very irregular, and relapsed so frequently into the distemper which at first brought him to the learned Talicotius, that in the space of two years he wore out five noses, and by that means so tormented the porters, that if he would have given £500 for a nose, there was not one of them that would accommodate him. This young gentleman was born of honest parents, and passed his first years in fox-hunting; but accidentally quitting the woods, and coming up to London, he was so charmed with the beauties of the play-house, that he had not been in town two days before he got the misfortune which carried off this part of his face. He used to be called in Germany, the Englishman of five noses, and, the gentleman that had thrice as many noses as he had ears: such was the raillery of those times.
I shall close this paper with an admonition to the young men of this town, which I think the more necessary, because I see several new fresh-coloured faces, that have made their first appearance in it this winter. I must therefore assure them, that the art of making noses is entirely lost; and in the next place, beg them not to follow the example of our ordinary town rakes, who live as if there was a Talicotius to be met with at the corner of every street. Whatever young men may think, the nose is a very becoming part of the face, and a man makes but a very silly figure without it. But it is the nature of youth not to know the value of anything till they have lost it. The general precept, therefore, I shall leave with them is, to regard every town-woman as a particular kind of siren, that has a design upon their noses; and that, amidst her flatteries and allurements, they will fancy she speaks to them in that humorous phrase of old Plautus:
_Ego tibi faciem denasabo mordicus._[238]
"Keep your face out of my way, or I'll bite off your nose."
FOOTNOTES:
[228] Book ii. chap. xxvi.
[229] Swift's "Tale of a Tub," sect. xi.
[230] "You are mistaken in your guesses about _Tatlers_; I did neither write that on noses nor religion [No. 257], nor do I send him of late any hints at all" (Swift's "Journal," Jan. 1, 1711).
[231] Notch or nick.
[232] "Hudibras," Part i. canto i. 281. For Talicotius see note below.
[233] Reading.
[234] Hieronymus Fracastorius, physician and poet, and much commended for his elegance as a Latin Writer, was born in Verona in 1483, and died in that neighborhood, of an apoplexy, in 1553, at the age of seventy-one. He was a man of blameless life and engaging manners, which so endeared him to his friends and countrymen, that they erected a statue to his memory six years after his death. His "Syphilis," the book here alluded to, was printed with his other works in two volumes, at Padua, in 1735. There is a separate edition of his poetical works, printed at the same place in 1718. Fracastorius was born, it is said, with his lips so grown together that it was necessary to call in the assistance of a surgeon to separate them.
[235] Gaspar Taliacotius (1546-1599) was a professor of physic and surgery at Bologna. In his "De Curtorum Chirurgia per Insitionem" he taught the art of grafting noses, lips, and ears, with the proper instruments and bandages. The only manner which he used and recommends for the reparation of maimed noses, &c., is skin.
[236] A quack doctor whose advertisements may be found in the newspapers of the day.
[237] Ovid, "Amor. El." ix. 1.
[238]
"Namque edepol si adbites proprius, os denasabit tibi Mordicus."
--"Captivi," act iii. sc. 4, II. 72-73.
=No. 261.= [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Dec. 7_, to _Saturday, Dec. 9, 1710_.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 8._
It is the duty of all who make philosophy the entertainment of their lives, to turn their thoughts to practical schemes for the good of society, and not pass away their time in fruitless searches, which tend rather to the ostentation of knowledge than the service of life. For this reason I cannot forbear reading even the common bills that are daily put into people's hands as they pass the streets, which give us notice of the present residence, the past travels, and infallible medicines of doctors, useful in their generation, though much below the character of the renowned Talicotius: but upon a nice calculation of the successes of such adepts, I find their labours tend mostly to the enriching only one sort of men, that is to say, the Society of Upholders. From this observation, and many other which occur to me when I am numbering the good people of Great Britain, I cannot but favour any proposal which tends to repairing the losses we sustain by eminent cures. The best I have met with in this kind, has been offered to my consideration, and recommended by a letter, subscribed Thomas Clement.[239] The title to his printed articles runs thus: "By the Profitable Society at the Wheat Sheaf, over against Tom's Coffee-house, in Russell Street, Covent Garden, new proposals for promoting a contribution towards raising two hundred and fifty pounds to be made on the baptizing of any infant born in wedlock." The plan is laid with such proper regulations, as serves (to such as fall in with it for the sake of their posterity) all the uses, without any of the inconveniences of settlements. By this means, such whose fortunes depend upon their own industry, or personal qualifications, need not be deterred by fear of poverty from that state which nature and reason prescribe to us as the fountain of the greatest happiness in human life. The censors of Rome had power vested in them to lay taxes on the unmarried; and I think I cannot show my impartiality better than in inquiring into the extravagant privileges my brother bachelors enjoy, and fine them accordingly. I shall not allow a single life in one sex to be reproached, and held in esteem in the other. It would not, methinks, be amiss, if an old bachelor, who lives in contempt of matrimony, were obliged to give a portion to an old maid who is willing to enter into it. At the same time I must allow, that those who can plead courtship, and were unjustly rejected, shall not be liable to the pains and penalties of celibacy. But such as pretend an aversion to the whole sex, because they were ill-treated by a particular female, and cover their sense of disappointment in women under a contempt of their favour, shall be proceeded against as bachelors convict. I am not without hopes, that from this slight warning, all the unmarried men of fortune, taste, and refinement, will, without further delay, become lovers and humble servants to such of their acquaintance as are most agreeable to them, under pain of my censures: and it is to be hoped, the rest of the world, who remain single for fear of the encumbrances of wedlock, will become subscribers to Mr. Clement's proposal. By these means we shall have a much more numerous account of births in the year 1711, than any ever before known in Great Britain, where merely to be born is a distinction of Providence, greater than being born to a fortune in another place.
As I was going on in the consideration of this good office which Mr. Clement proposes to do his country, I received the following letter, which seems to be dictated by a like modest and public spirit, that makes use of me also in its design of obliging mankind:
* * * * *
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"In the royal lottery for a million and a half, I had the good fortune of obtaining a prize. From before the drawing I had devoted a fifth of whatever should arise to me to charitable uses. Accordingly I lately troubled you with my request and commission for placing half-a-dozen youths with Mr. More,[240] writing-master in Castle Street, to whom, it is said, we owe all the fine devices, flourishes, and the composure of all the plates, for the drawing and paying the tickets. Be pleased therefore, good sir, to find or make leisure for complying therewith, for I would not appear concerned in this small matter. I am very much
"Your humble Servant, &c."
It is no small pleasure to observe, that in the midst of a very degenerate age, there are still spirits which retain their natural dignity, and pursue the good of their fellow-creatures: some in making themselves useful by professed service, some by secret generosity. Were I at liberty to discover even all the good I know of many men living at this time, there would want nothing but a suitable historian to make them appear as illustrious as any of the noblest of the old Greeks or Romans. The cunning some have used to do handsome and worthy actions, the address to do men services, and escape their notice, has produced so many surprising incidents (which have been laid before me during my censorship), as, in the opinion of posterity, would absolve this age of all its crimes and follies. I know no way to deal with such delicate minds as these, but by assuring them, that when they cease to do good, I shall tell all the good they have done already. Let therefore the benefactor to the youths above-mentioned continue such bounties, upon pain of being publicly praised. But there is no probability of his running into that hazard; for a strong habit of virtue can make men suspend the receiving acknowledgments due to their merit, till they are out of a capacity of receiving them. I am so very much charmed with accidents of this kind, that I have made a collection of all the memorable handsome things done by private men in my time. As a specimen of my manner of noting such actions, take the following fragment out of much more which is written in my Year-Book, on the remarkable will of a gentleman, whom I shall here call Celamico.
"This day died that plain and excellent man, my much honoured friend Celamico, who bequeathed his whole estate to a gentleman no way related to him, and to whom he had given no such expectation in his lifetime."
He was a person of a very enlarged soul, and thought the nearest relation among men to be the resemblance of their minds and sentiments. He was not mistaken in the worth of his successor, who received the news of this unexpected good fortune with an air that showed him less moved with the benefit than the loss of the benefactor.
ADVERTISEMENT.
"Notice is hereby given, that on Monday the 11th instant, the case of the visit comes on, between the hours of ten and eleven, at the Court of Honour; where both persons are to attend, the meeting there not being to be understood as a visit, and the right of the next visit being then to be wholly settled, according to the prayer of the plaintiff."
FOOTNOTES:
[239] See No. 258, _ad fin._ The following advertisement appeared in No. 252 of the _Tatler_: "Two hundred and fifty pounds to be paid on the baptizing of a child, being a new proposal by the Profitable Society; the payment of 2s. 6d. for a policy, and 2s. 6d. towards each claim, a title to the sum above-mentioned. Proposals of a 2d. society, where the contribution of 1s. entitled the contributor to £100, to be had gratis at the Wheat Sheaf, opposite to Tom's Coffee-house, Russell Street, Covent Garden."
[240] "This ingenious penman was the son of a writing-master in King Street, Westminster, and lived at the Golden Pen, in Castle Street, near the Mews, Charing Cross. He succeeded Colonel Ayres, to whom caligraphy is much indebted for its improvement, in his house and business in St. Paul's Churchyard, and in some respects enlarged its glory. He died on a journey in 1727" (Massey, "Origin and Progress of Letters," 1763; Part ii. 103).
=No. 262.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Saturday, Dec. 9,_ to _Tuesday, Dec. 12, 1710_.
Verba togæ sequeris juncturâ callidus acri, Ore teres modico, pallentes radere mores Doctus et ingenuo culpam defigere ludo.
PERS., Sat. v. 14.
JOURNAL OF THE COURT OF HONOUR, &C.[241]
Timothy Treatall, Gent., was indicted by several ladies of his sisters' acquaintance for a very rude affront offered to them at an entertainment, to which he had invited them on Tuesday the 7th of November last past, between the hours of eight and nine in the evening. The indictment set forth, that the said Mr. Treatall, upon the serving up of the supper, desired the ladies to take their places according to their different age and seniority, for that it was the way always at his table to pay respect to years. The indictment added, that this produced an unspeakable confusion in the company; for that the ladies, who before had pressed together for a place at the upper end of the table, immediately crowded with the same disorder towards the end that was quite opposite; that Mrs. Frontly had the insolence to clap herself down at the very lowest place of the table; that the Widow Partlett seated herself on the right hand of Mrs. Frontly, alleging for her excuse, that no ceremony was to be used at a round table; that Mrs. Fidget and Mrs. Fescue disputed above half-an-hour for the same chair, and that the latter would not give up the cause till it was decided by the parish register, which happened to be kept hard by. The indictment further said, that the rest of the company who sat down, did it with a reserve to their right, which they were at liberty to assert on another occasion; and that Mrs. Mary Pippe, an old maid, was placed by the unanimous vote of the whole company at the upper end of the table, from whence she had the confusion to behold several mothers of families among her inferiors. The criminal alleged in his defence, that what he had done, was to raise mirth, and avoid ceremony, and that the ladies did not complain of his rudeness till the next morning, having eaten up what he had provided for them with great readiness and alacrity. The Censor frowning upon him told him, that he ought not to discover so much levity in matters of a serious nature, and (upon the jury's bringing him in guilty) sentenced him to treat the whole assembly of ladies over again, and to take care he did it with the decorum which was due to persons of their quality.
Rebecca Shapely, spinster, was indicted by Mrs. Sarah Smack, for speaking many words reflecting upon her reputation, and the heels of her silk slippers, which the prisoner had maliciously suggested to be two inches higher than they really were. The prosecutor urged, as an aggravation of her guilt, that the prisoner was herself guilty of the same kind of forgery which she had laid to the prosecutor's charge, for that she, the said Rebecca Shapely, did always wear a pair of steel bodice, and a false rump. The Censor ordered the slippers to be produced in open court, where the heels were adjudged to be of the statutable size. He then ordered the grand jury to search the criminal, who, after some time spent therein, acquitted her of the bodice, but found her guilty of the rump; upon which she received sentence as is usual in such cases.
William Trippitt, Esq., of the Middle Temple, brought his action against the Lady Elizabeth Prudely, for having refused him her hand as he offered to lead her to her coach from the opera. The plaintiff set forth, that he had entered himself into the list of those volunteers who officiate every night behind the boxes as gentlemen-ushers of the play-house; that he had been at a considerable charge in white gloves, periwigs, and snuff-boxes, in order to qualify himself for that employment, and in hopes of making his fortune by it. The counsel for the defendant replied, that the plaintiff had given out that he was within a month of wedding their client, and that she had refused her hand to him in ceremony, lest he should interpret it as a promise that she would give it him in marriage. As soon as their pleadings on both sides were finished, the Censor ordered the plaintiff to be cashiered from his office of gentleman-usher to the play-house, since it was too plain that he had undertaken it with an ill design; and at the same time ordered the defendant either to marry the said plaintiff, or to pay him half-a-crown for the new pair of gloves and coach-hire that he was at the expense of in her service.
The Lady Townly brought an action of debt against Mrs. Flambeau, for that the said Mrs. Flambeau had not been to see the said Lady Townly, and wish her joy, since her marriage with Sir Ralph, notwithstanding she, the said Lady Townly, had paid Mrs. Flambeau a visit upon her first coming to town. It was urged in the behalf of the defendant, that the plaintiff had never given her any regular notice of her being in town; that the visit she alleged had been made on a Monday, which she knew was a day on which Mrs. Flambeau was always abroad, having set aside that only day in the week to mind the affairs of her family; that the servant who inquired whether she was at home did not give the visiting knock; that it was not between the hours of five and eight in the evening; that there was no candles lighted up; that it was not on Mrs. Flambeau's day; and, in short, that there was not one of the essential points observed that constitute a visit. She further proved by her porter's book, which was produced in court, that she had paid the Lady Townly a visit on the twenty-fourth day of March,[242] just before her leaving the town, in the year 1709-10, for which she was still creditor to the said Lady Townly. To this the plaintiff only replied, that she was now under covert, and not liable to any debts contracted when she was a single woman. Mr. Bickerstaff finding the cause to be very intricate, and that several points of honour were likely to arise in it, he deferred giving judgment upon it till the next session day, at which time he ordered the ladies on his left hand to present to the court a table of all the laws relating to visits.
Winifred Lear brought her action against Richard Sly for having broken a marriage contract, and wedded another woman, after he had engaged himself to marry the said Winifred Lear. She alleged, that he had ogled her twice at an opera, thrice in St. James's Church, and once at Powell's Puppet-Show,[243] at which time he promised her marriage by a side glance, as her friend could testify that sat by her. Mr. Bickerstaff finding that the defendant had made no further overture of love or marriage, but by looks and ocular engagement; yet at the same time considering how very apt such impudent seducers are to lead the ladies' hearts astray, ordered the criminal to stand upon the stage in the Haymarket, between each act of the next opera, there to be exposed to public view as a false ogler.
Upon the rising of the court, Mr. Bickerstaff having taken one of these counterfeits in the very fact as he was ogling a lady of the grand jury, ordered him to be seized, and prosecuted upon the statute of ogling. He likewise directed the clerk of the court to draw up an edict against these common cheats, that make women believe they are distracted for them by staring them out of countenance, and often blast a lady's reputation whom they never spoke to, by saucy looks and distant familiarities.
FOOTNOTES:
[241] See Nos. 253, 256, and 259.
[242] Then the last day of the year.
[243] See Nos. 44, 45, 50, 115; and _Spectator_, Nos. 14, 372. Martin Powell (sometimes called Robert) was a cripple who came to London from Bath in 1710, and set up "Punch's Theatre" under the Piazza in Covent Garden. There he produced puppet plays, burlesquing the operas at the Haymarket. Defoe, or whoever was the author of the "Groans of Great Britain" (1711), lamented Powell's popularity, and said that he was rich enough to buy up all the poets of England. In 1715 Thomas Burnet wrote a satire on Robert Harley under the title of a "History of Robert Powell the Puppet-Showman."
=No. 263.= [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Dec. 12_, to _Thursday, Dec. 14, 1710_.
----Minimâ contentos nocte Britannos.
JUV., Sat ii. 161.
_From my own Apartment Dec. 13._
An old friend of mine being lately come to town, I went to see him on Tuesday last about eight o'clock in the evening, with a design to sit with him an hour or two and talk over old stories; but upon inquiring after him, his servant told me he was just gone to bed. The next morning, as soon as I was up and dressed, and had despatched a little business, I came again to my friend's house about eleven o'clock, with a design to renew my visit; but upon asking for him, his servant told me he was just sat down to dinner. In short, I found that my old-fashioned friend religiously adhered to the example of his forefathers, and observed the same hours that had been kept in the family ever since the Conquest.[244]
It is very plain that the night was much longer formerly in this island than it is at present. By the night I mean that portion of time which nature has thrown into darkness, and which the wisdom of mankind had formerly dedicated to rest and silence. This used to begin at eight o'clock in the evening, and conclude at six in the morning. The curfew, or eight o'clock bell, was the signal throughout the nation for putting out their candles and going to bed.
Our grandmothers, though they were wont to sit up the last in the family, were all of them fast asleep at the same hours that their daughters are busy at crimp and basset.[245] Modern statesmen are concerting schemes, and engaged in the depth of politics, at the time when their forefathers were laid down quietly to rest, and had nothing in their heads but dreams. As we have thus thrown business and pleasure into the hours of rest, and by that means made the natural night but half as long as it should be, we are forced to piece it out with a great part of the morning; so that near two-thirds of the nation lie fast asleep for several hours in broad daylight. This irregularity is grown so very fashionable at present, that there is scarce a lady of quality in Great Britain that ever saw the sun rise. And if the humour increases in proportion to what it has done of late years, it is not impossible but our children may hear the bellman going about the streets at nine o'clock in the morning, and the watch making their rounds till eleven. This unaccountable disposition in mankind to continue awake in the night, and sleep in sunshine, has made me inquire, whether the same change of inclination has happened to any other animals? For this reason I desired a friend of mine in the country to let me know, whether the lark rises as early as he did formerly? and whether the cock begins to crow at his usual hour? My friend has answered me, that his poultry are as regular as ever, and that all the birds and the beasts of his neighbourhood keep the same hours that they have observed in the memory of man; and the same which, in all probability, they have kept for these five thousand years.
If you would see the innovations that have been made among us in this particular, you may only look into the hours of colleges, where they still dine at eleven, and sup at six, which were doubtless the hours of the whole nation at the time when those places were founded. But at present the courts of justice are scarce opened in Westminster Hall at the time when William Rufus used to go to dinner in it. All business is driven forward: the landmarks of our fathers (if I may so call them) are removed, and planted further up into the day; insomuch that I am afraid our clergy will be obliged (if they expect full congregations) not to look any more upon ten o'clock in the morning as a canonical hour. In my own memory the dinner has crept by degrees from twelve o'clock to three, and where it will fix nobody knows.[246]
I have sometimes thought to draw up a memorial in the behalf of supper against dinner, setting forth, that the said dinner has made several encroachments upon the said supper, and entered very far upon his frontiers; that he has banished him out of several families, and in all has driven him from his headquarters, and forced him to make his retreat into the hours of midnight; and in short, that he is now in danger of being entirely confounded and lost in a breakfast. Those who have read Lucian, and seen the complaints of the letter "t" against "s" upon account of many injuries and usurpations of the same nature,[247] will not, I believe, think such a memorial forced and unnatural. If dinner has been thus postponed, or (if you please) kept back from time to time, you may be sure that it has been in compliance with the other business of the day, and that supper has still observed a proportionable distance. There is a venerable proverb, which we have all of us heard in our infancy, of "putting the children to bed, and laying the goose to the fire." This was one of the jocular sayings of our forefathers, but may be properly used in the literal sense at present. Who would not wonder at this perverted relish of those who are reckoned the most polite part of mankind, that prefer sea-coals[248] and candles to the sun, and exchange so many cheerful morning hours for the pleasures of midnight revels and debauches? If a man was only to consult his health, he would choose to live his whole time (if possible) in daylight, and to retire out of the world into silence and sleep, while the raw damps and unwholesome vapours fly abroad without a sun to disperse, moderate, or control them. For my own part, I value an hour in the morning as much as common libertines do an hour at midnight. When I find myself awakened into being, and perceive my life renewed within me, and at the same time see the whole face of nature recovered out of the dark uncomfortable state in which it lay for several hours, my heart overflows with such secret sentiments of joy and gratitude as are a kind of implicit[249] praise to the great Author of Nature. The mind in these early seasons of the day is so refreshed in all its faculties, and borne up with such new supplies of animal spirits, that she finds herself in a state of youth, especially when she is entertained with the breath of flowers, the melody of birds, the dews that hang upon the plants, and all those other sweets of nature that are peculiar to the morning.
It is impossible for a man to have this relish of being, this exquisite taste of life, who does not come into the world before it is in all its noise and hurry; who loses the rising of the sun, the still hours of the day, and immediately upon his first getting up plunges himself into the ordinary cares or follies of the world.
I shall conclude this paper with Milton's inimitable description of Adam's awakening his Eve in Paradise, which indeed would have been a place as little delightful as a barren heath or desert to those who slept in it. The fondness of the posture in which Adam is represented, and the softness of his whisper, are passages in this divine poem that are above all commendation, and rather to be admired than praised.
_Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep Was airy-light from pure digestion bred, And temperate vapours bland, which th' only sound Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwakened Eve, With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: he on his side Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamoured, and beheld Beauty, which whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces. Then with voice Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whispered thus: "Awake, My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight; Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How Nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet." Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake: "O soul! in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glory, my perfection, glad I see Thy face, and morn returned."_----[250]
FOOTNOTES:
[244] _Cf._ Pope's "Epistle to Miss Blount, on her leaving the Town after the Coronation" (1715):
"She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks, Old-fashioned halls, dull aunts, and croaking rooks: She went from opera, park, assembly, play, To morning walks, and prayers three hours a day; To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary tea; Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon; Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire, Hum half a tune, tell stories to the squire; Up to her godly garret after seven, There starve and pray, for that's the way to heaven."
[245] Games at cards. Pope wrote a poem called "The Basset Table."
[246] Four o'clock was soon the fashionable hour. Mr. Dobson quotes from Swift's "Journal of a Modern Lady" (1728):--
"This business of importance o'er, And madam almost dressed by four, The footman, in his usual phrase, Comes up with 'Madam, dinner stays.'"
[247] See Lucian's "Judicium Vocalium." Such words as σήμερον and σὺκον afterwards came to be spelled τήμερον and τὺκον.
[248] Coal carried by sea from the colliery, as was then the case with all the coal used in London. In the country wood was burned; and Will Honeycomb, after his marriage to a farmer's daughter, said that had his steward not run away, he would still have been "immersed in sin and sea-coal" in London, with its smoke and gallantries (_Spectator_, No. 530).
[249] Implied.
[250] "Paradise Lost," v. 1.
=No. 264.= [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Dec. 14_, to _Saturday Dec. 16, 1710_.
Favete linguis.----HOR., 3 Od. i. 2.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 15._
Boccalini[251] in his "Parnassus," indicts a laconic writer for speaking that in three words which he might have said in two, and sentences him for his punishment to read over all the works of Guicciardin.[252] This Guicciardin is so very prolix and circumstantial in his writings, that I remember our countryman Dr. Donne, speaking of that majestic and concise manner in which Moses has described the creation of the world, adds that "if such an author as Guicciardin were to have written on such a subject, the world itself would not have been able to have contained the books that gave the history of its creation."[253]
I look upon a tedious talker, or what is generally known by the name of a story-teller, to be much more insufferable than even a prolix writer. An author may be tossed out of your hand and thrown aside when he grows dull and tiresome; but such liberties are so far from being allowed towards your orators in common conversation, that I have known a challenge sent a person for going out of the room abruptly, and leaving a man of honour in the midst of a dissertation. This evil is at present so very common and epidemical, that there is scarce a coffee-house in town that has not some speakers belonging to it, who utter their political essays, and draw parallels out of Baker's "Chronicle"[254] to almost every part of her Majesty's reign. It was said of two ancient authors who had very different beauties in their style, that if you took a word from one of them, you only spoiled his eloquence; but if you took a word from the other, you spoiled his sense. I have often applied the first part of this criticism to several of these coffee-house speakers whom I have at present in my thoughts, though the character that is given to the last of those authors is what I would recommend to the imitation of my loving countrymen: but it is not only public places of resort, but private clubs and conversations over a bottle, that are infested with this loquacious kind of animal, especially with that species which I comprehend under the name of a story-teller. I would earnestly desire these gentlemen to consider, that no point of wit or mirth at the end of a story can atone for the half-hour that has been lost before they come at it. I would likewise lay it home to their serious consideration, whether they think that every man in the company has not a right to speak as well as themselves? and whether they do not think they are invading another man's property, when they engross the time which should be divided equally amongst the company to their own private use?
What makes this evil the much greater in conversation is, that these humdrum companions seldom endeavour to wind up their narrations into a point of mirth or instruction, which might make some amends for the tediousness of them, but think they have a right to tell anything that has happened within their memory. They look upon matter of fact to be a sufficient foundation for a story, and give us a long account of things, not because they are entertaining or surprising, but because they are true.
My ingenious kinsman, Mr. Humphry Wagstaff,[255] used to say, the life of man is too short for a story-teller.
Methusalem might be half an hour in telling what o'clock it was; but as for us postdiluvians, we ought to do everything in haste; and in our speeches, as well as actions, remember that our time is short. A man that talks for a quarter of an hour together in company, if I meet him frequently, takes up a great part of my span. A quarter of an hour may be reckoned the eight and fortieth part of a day, a day the three hundred and sixtieth part of a year, and a year the threescore and tenth part of life. By this moral arithmetic, supposing a man to be in the talking world one-third part of the day, whoever gives another a quarter of an hour's hearing, makes him a sacrifice of more than the four hundred thousandth part of his conversable life.
I would establish but one great general rule to be observed in all conversation, which is this, that men should not talk to please themselves, but those that hear them. This would make them consider, whether what they speak be worth hearing; whether there be either wit or sense in what they are about to say; and whether it be adapted to the time when, the place where, and the person to whom, it is spoken.
For the utter extirpation of these orators and story-tellers, which I look upon as very great pests of society, I have invented a watch, which divides the minute into twelve parts, after the same manner that the ordinary watches are divided into hours; and will endeavour to get a patent, which shall oblige every club or company to provide themselves with one of these watches (that shall lie upon the table as an hour-glass is often placed near the pulpit) to measure out the length of a discourse.[256]
I shall be willing to allow a man one round of my watch, that is, a whole minute, to speak in; but if he exceeds that time, it shall be lawful for any of the company to look upon the watch, or to call him down to order.
Provided, however, that if any one can make it appear he is turned of threescore, he may take two, or, if he pleases, three rounds of the watch without giving offence. Provided also, that this rule be not construed to extend to the fair sex, who shall still be at liberty to talk by the ordinary watch that is now in use. I would likewise earnestly recommend this little automaton, which may be easily carried in the pocket without any encumbrance, to all such as are troubled with this infirmity of speech, that upon pulling out their watches, they may have frequent occasion to consider what they are doing, and by that means cut the thread of their story short, and hurry to a conclusion. I shall only add, that this watch, with a paper of directions how to use it, is sold at Charles Lillie's.
I am afraid a _Tatler_ will be thought a very improper paper to censure this humour of being talkative; but I would have my readers know, that there is a great difference between tattle and loquacity, as I shall show at large in a following Lucubration,[257] it being my design to throw away a candle upon that subject, in order to explain the whole art of tattling in all its branches and subdivisions.
FOOTNOTES:
[251] Trajan Boccalini, lawyer and satirical writer, was born in 1556 at Loreto, and died in 1613. He is best known by his "News from Parnassus," a translation of which was revised and reissued by John Hughes in 1706.
[252] Francis Guicciardini, politician and historian, was born at Florence in 1482. He died in 1540, and his lengthy "History of Italy" was published in 1561. An article on Guicciardini, by Mr. John Morley, appeared in the _Nineteenth Century_ for November 1897.
[253] Donne's "Sermons," ii. 239.
[254] Sir Richard Baker's "Chronicle of the Kings of England" (1641) was a favourite authority with Sir Roger de Coverley (_Spectator_, No. 269).
[255] Probably Swift (See No. 9).
[256] "And spoke the hour-glass in her praise, quite out" (Gay, "Shepherd's Week," 1714).
[257] No. 268.
=No. 265.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Saturday Dec. 16_, to _Tuesday, Dec. 19, 1710_.
Arbiter hic igitur sumptus de lite jocosâ.
OVID, Met. iii. 332.
CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL OF THE COURT OF HONOUR, &C.
As soon as the court was sat, the ladies of the bench presented, according to order, a table of all the laws now in force relating to visits and visiting-days, methodically digested under their respective heads, which the Censor ordered to be laid upon the table, and afterwards proceeded upon the business of the day.
Henry Heedless, Esq., was indicted by Colonel Touchy, of her Majesty's trained-bands,[258] upon an action of assault and battery; for that he the said Mr. Heedless having espied a feather upon the shoulder of the said colonel, struck it off gently with the end of a walking-staff, value threepence. It appeared, that the prosecutor did not think himself injured till a few days after the aforesaid blow was given him; but that having ruminated with himself for several days, and conferred upon it with other officers of the militia, he concluded, that he had in effect been cudgelled by Mr. Heedless, and that he ought to resent it accordingly. The counsel for the prosecutor alleged, that the shoulder was the tenderest part in a man of honour; that it had a natural antipathy to a stick, and that every touch of it, with anything made in the fashion of a cane, was to be interpreted as a wound in that part, and a violation of the person's honour who received it. Mr. Heedless replied, that what he had done was out of kindness to the prosecutor, as not thinking it proper for him to appear at the head of the trained-bands with a feather upon his shoulder; and further added, that the stick he had made use of on this occasion was so very small, that the prosecutor could not have felt it, had he broken it on his shoulders. The Censor hereupon directed the jury to examine into the nature of the staff, for that a great deal would depend upon that particular. Upon which he explained to them the different degrees of offence that might be given by the touch of crab-tree from that of cane, and by the touch of cane from that of a plain hazel stick. The jury, after a short perusal of the staff, declared their opinion by the mouth of their foreman, that the substance of the staff was British oak. The Censor then observing that there was some dust on the skirts of the criminal's coat, ordered the prosecutor to beat it off with his aforesaid oaken plant; "and thus," said the Censor, "I shall decide this cause by the law of retaliation: if Mr. Heedless did the colonel a good office, the colonel will by this means return it in kind; but if Mr. Heedless should at any time boast that he had cudgelled the colonel, or laid his staff over his shoulders, the colonel might boast in his turn, that he has brushed Mr. Heedless's jacket, or (to use the phrase of an ingenious author) that he has rubbed him down with an oaken towel."
Benjamin Busy, of London, merchant, was indicted by Jasper Tattle, Esq., for having pulled out his watch and looked upon it thrice, while the said Esquire Tattle was giving him an account of the funeral of the said Esquire Tattle's first wife. The prisoner alleged in his defence, that he was going to buy stocks at the time when he met the prosecutor; and that, during the story of the prosecutor, the said stocks rose above two per cent., to the great detriment of the prisoner. The prisoner further brought several witnesses, that the said Jasper Tattle, Esq., was a most notorious story-teller; that before he met the prisoner, he had hindered one of the prisoner's acquaintance from the pursuit of his lawful business, with the account of his second marriage; and that he had detained another by the button of his coat that very morning, till he had heard several witty sayings and contrivances of the prosecutor's eldest son, who was a boy of about five years of age. Upon the whole matter, Mr. Bickerstaff dismissed the accusation as frivolous, and sentenced the prosecutor to pay damages to the prisoner for what the prisoner had lost by giving him so long and patient a hearing. He further reprimanded the prosecutor very severely, and told him, that if he proceeded in his usual manner to interrupt the business of mankind, he would set a fine upon him for every quarter of an hour's impertinence, and regulate the said fine according as the time of the person so injured should appear to be more or less precious.
Sir Paul Swash, Kt., was indicted by Peter Double, Gent., for not returning the bow which he received of the said Peter Double, on Wednesday the 6th instant, at the play-house in the Haymarket. The prisoner denied the receipt of any such bow, and alleged in his defence, that the prosecutor would oftentimes look full in his face, but that when he bowed to the said prosecutor, he would take no notice of it, or bow to somebody else that sat quite on the other side of him. He likewise alleged, that several ladies had complained of the prosecutor, who, after ogling them a quarter of an hour, upon their making a curtsey to him, would not return the civility of a bow. The Censor observing several glances of the prosecutor's eye, and perceiving, that when he talked to the court, he looked upon the jury, found reason to suspect that there was a wrong cast in his sight, which upon examination proved true. The Censor therefore ordered the prisoner (that he might not produce any more confusions in public assemblies) never to bow to anybody whom he did not at the same time call to by his name.
Oliver Bluff, and Benjamin Browbeat, were indicted for going to fight a duel since the erection of the Court of Honour. It appeared, that they were both taken up in the street as they passed by the court, in their way to the fields behind Montague House.[259] The criminals would answer nothing for themselves, but that they were going to execute a challenge which had been made above a week before the Court of Honour was erected. The Censor finding some reasons to suspect (by the sturdiness of their behaviour) that they were not so very brave as they would have the court believe them, ordered them both to be searched by the grand jury, who found a breast-plate upon the one, and two quires of paper upon the other. The breast-plate was immediately ordered to be hung upon a peg over Mr. Bickerstaff's tribunal, and the paper to be laid upon the table for the use of his clerk. He then ordered the criminals to button up their bosoms, and, if they pleased, proceed to their duel. Upon which they both went very quietly out of the court, and retired to their respective lodgings.
The court then adjourned till after the holidays.
"_Copia vera._--CHARLES LILLIE."
FOOTNOTES:
[258] See Nos. 28, 41, 60, 61, and 79.
[259] A favourite place for duelling. See No. 31.
=No. 266.= [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Dec. 19_, to _Thursday, Dec. 21, 1710_.
Rideat et pulset lasciva decentius ætas.
HOR., 2 Ep. ii. 216.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 20._
It would be a good appendix to the "Art of Living and Dying,"[260] if any one would write the art of growing old, and teach men to resign their pretensions to the pleasures and gallantries of youth, in proportion to the alteration they find in themselves by the approach of age and infirmities. The infirmities of this stage of life would be much fewer, if we did not affect those which attend the more vigorous and active part of our days; but instead of studying to be wiser, or being contented with our present follies, the ambition of many of us is also to be the same sort of fools we formerly have been. I have often argued, as I am a professed lover of women, that our sex grows old with a much worse grace than the other does; and have ever been of opinion, that there are more well-pleased old women than old men. I thought it a good reason for this, that the ambition of the fair sex being confined to advantageous marriages, or shining in the eyes of men, their parts were over sooner, and consequently the errors in the performance of them. The conversation of this evening has not convinced me of the contrary; for one or two fop women shall not make a balance for the crowds of coxcombs among ourselves, diversified according to the different pursuits of pleasure and business.
Returning home this evening a little before my usual hour, I scarce had seated myself in my easy-chair, stirred the fire and stroked my cat, but I heard somebody come rumbling upstairs. I saw my door opened, and a human figure advancing towards me, so fantastically put together, 'twas some minutes before I discovered it to be my old and intimate friend Sam Trusty.[261] Immediately I rose up, and placed him in my own seat, a compliment I pay to few. The first thing he uttered was, "Isaac, fetch me a cup of your cherry brandy before you offer to ask me any question." He drank a lusty draught, sat silent for some time, and at last broke out: "I am come," quoth he, "to insult thee for an old fantastic dotard as thou art in ever defending the women. I have this evening visited two widows, who are now in that state I have often heard you call an after-life:[262] I suppose you mean by it an existence which grows out of past entertainments, and is an untimely delight in the satisfactions which they once set their hearts upon too much to be ever able to relinquish. Have but patience," continued he, "till I give you a succinct account of my ladies, and of this night's adventure. They are much of an age, but very different in their characters: the one of them, with all the advances which years have made upon her, goes on in a certain romantic road of love and friendship which she fell into in her teens; the other has transferred the amorous passions of her first years to the love of cronies, pets and favourites, with which she is always surrounded; but the genius of each of them will best appear by the account of what happened to me at their houses. About five this afternoon, being tired with study, the weather inviting, and time lying a little upon my hands, I resolved, at the instigation of my evil genius, to visit them, their husbands having been our contemporaries. This I thought I could do without much trouble, for both live in the very next street. I went first to my Lady Camomile, and the butler, who had lived long in the family, and seen me often in his master's time, ushered me very civilly into the parlour, and told me, though my lady had given strict orders to be denied, he was sure I might be admitted, and bid the black boy[263] acquaint his lady, that I was to wait upon her. In the window lay two letters, one broke open, the other fresh sealed with a wafer: the first directed to the divine Cosmelia, the second to the charming Lucinda; but both, by the indented characters, appeared to have been writ by very unsteady hands. Such uncommon addresses increased my curiosity, and put me upon asking my old friend the butler, if he knew who those persons were? 'Very well,' says he: 'this is from Mrs. Furbish to my lady, an old schoolfellow and great crony of her ladyship's, and this the answer.' I inquired in what country she lived. 'Oh dear!' says he, 'but just by in the neighbourhood. Why, she was here all this morning, and that letter came and was answered within these two hours. They have taken an odd fancy, you must know, to call one another hard names, but for all that they love one another hugely.' By this time the boy returned with his lady's humble service to me, desiring I would excuse her, for she could not possibly see me, nor anybody else, for it was opera night.
"Methinks," says I, "such innocent folly as two old women's courtship to each other should rather make you merry, than put you out of humour." "Peace, good Isaac," says he, "no interruption I beseech you. I got soon to Mrs. Feeble's, she that was formerly Betty Frisk; you must needs remember her, Tom Feeble of Brasenose fell in love with her for her fine dancing. Well, Mrs. Ursula, without further ceremony, carries me directly up to her mistress's chamber, where I found her environed by four of the most mischievous animals that can ever infest a family: an old shock[264] dog with one eye, a monkey chained to one side of the chimney, a great grey squirrel to the other, and a parrot waddling in the middle of the room. However, for a while, all was in a profound tranquillity. Upon the mantel-tree, for I am a pretty curious observer, stood a pot of lambative electuary,[265] with a stick of liquorice, and near it a phial of rosewater and powder of tutty.[266] Upon the table lay a pipe filled with betony[267] and coltsfoot a roll of wax-candle, a silver spitting-pot, and a Seville orange. The lady was placed in a large wicker-chair, and her feet wrapped up in flannel, supported by cushions; and in this attitude (would you believe it, Isaac) was she reading a romance with spectacles on. The first compliments over, as she was industriously endeavouring to enter upon conversation, a violent fit of coughing seized her. This awakened Shock, and in a trice the whole room was in an uproar; for the dog barked, the squirrel squealed, the monkey chattered, the parrot screamed, and Ursula, to appease them, was more clamorous than all the rest. You, Isaac, who know how any harsh noise affects my head, may guess what I suffered from the hideous din of these discordant sounds. At length all was appeased, and quiet restored: a chair was drawn for me, where I was no sooner seated, but the parrot fixed his horny beak, as sharp as a pair of shears, in one of my heels, just above the shoe. I sprang from the place with an unusual agility, and so being within the monkey's reach, he snatches off my new bob wig, and throws it upon two apples that were roasting by a sullen sea-coal fire.[268] I was nimble enough to save it from any further damage than singeing the foretop. I put it on, and composing myself as well as I could, I drew my chair towards the other side of the chimney. The good lady, as soon as she had recovered breath, employed it in making a thousand apologies, and with great eloquence, and a numerous train of words, lamented my misfortune. In the middle of her harangue, I felt something scratching near my knee, and feeling what it should be, found the squirrel had got into my coat pocket. As I endeavoured to remove him from his burrow, he made his teeth meet through the fleshy part of my forefinger. This gave me an inexpressible pain. The Hungary water[269] was immediately brought to bathe it, and gold-beaters' skin applied to stop the blood. The lady renewed her excuses; but being now out of all patience, I abruptly took my leave, and hobbling downstairs with heedless haste, I set my foot full in a pail of water, and down we came to the bottom together." Here my friend concluded his narrative, and, with a composed countenance, I began to make him compliments of condolence; but he started from his chair, and said, "Isaac, you may spare your speeches, I expect no reply: when I told you this, I knew you would laugh at me; but the next woman that makes me ridiculous shall be a young one."
FOOTNOTES:
[260] Jeremy Taylor's "Rule and Exercise of Holy Living and Dying" was published in 1650.
[261] Perhaps Jabez Hughes, brother of John Hughes. A letter by the latter in No. 73 is signed "Will Trusty."
[262] Cf. _Spectator_, No. 306, where a young lady who had been disfigured by smallpox, says, "I was taken off in the prime of youth, and according to the course of nature may have forty years' after-life to come."
[263] See No. 245.
[264] Rough-coated. In Pope's "Rape of the Lock" Belinda's dog is named Shock.
[265] A compound of sweet substances, in which medicines could be concealed and thus be licked up without being noticed.
[266] An impure oxide of zinc, used in soothing irritated surfaces on the flesh.
[267] Betony was smoked to cure headache, vertigo, and sore eyes; coltsfoot, for coughs and lung affections (Miller's "Herbal," 1722).
[268] See No. 263.
[269] See No. 126. Full directions for making Hungary water, of various qualities, are given in Lillie's "British Perfumer," pp. 142-145.
=No. 267.= [ADDISON.
From _Thursday, Dec. 21_, to _Saturday, Dec. 23, 1710_.
Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, et omnis Restinxit, stellas exortus ut aetherius sol.
LUCR. iii. 1043.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 22._
I have heard that it is a rule among the conventuals of several orders in the Romish Church to shut themselves up at a certain time of the year, not only from the world in general, but from the members of their own fraternity, and to pass away several days by themselves in settling accounts between their Maker and their own souls, in cancelling unrepented crimes, and renewing their contracts of obedience for the future. Such stated times for particular acts of devotion, or the exercise of certain religious duties, have been enjoined in all civil governments, whatever deity they worshipped, or whatever religion they professed. That which may be done at all times, is often totally neglected and forgotten, unless fixed and determined to some time more than another; and therefore, though several duties may be suitable to every day of our lives, they are most likely to be performed if some days are more particularly set apart for the practice of them. Our Church has accordingly instituted several seasons of devotion, when time, custom, prescription, and (if I may so say) the fashion itself, call upon a man to be serious and attentive to the great end of his being.
I have hinted in some former papers, that the greatest and wisest of men in all ages and countries, particularly in Rome and Greece, were renowned for their piety and virtue. It is now my intention to show how those in our own nation, that have been unquestionably the most eminent for learning and knowledge, were likewise the most eminent for their adherence to the religion of their country.
I might produce very shining examples from among the clergy; but because priestcraft is the common cry of every cavilling empty scribbler, I shall show, that all the laymen who have exerted a more than ordinary genius in their writings, and were the glory of their times, were men whose hopes were filled with immortality, and the prospect of future rewards, and men who lived in a dutiful submission to all the doctrines of revealed religion.
I shall in this paper only instance Sir Francis Bacon, a man who for the greatness of genius, and compass of knowledge, did honour to his age and country; I could almost say to human nature itself. He possessed at once all those extraordinary talents which were divided amongst the greatest authors of antiquity. He had the sound, distinct, comprehensive knowledge of Aristotle, with all the beautiful lights, graces, and embellishments of Cicero. One does not know which to admire most in his writings, the strength of reason, force of style, or brightness of imagination.
This author has remarked in several parts of his works, that a thorough insight into philosophy makes a good believer, and that a smattering in it naturally produces such a race of despicable infidels as the little profligate writers of the present age, whom (I must confess) I have always accused to myself, not so much for their want of faith as their want of learning.
I was infinitely pleased to find among the works of this extraordinary man a prayer of his own composing, which, for the elevation of thought, and greatness of expression, seems rather the devotion of an angel than a man. His principal fault seems to have been the excess of that virtue which covers a multitude of faults. This betrayed him to so great an indulgence towards his servants, who made a corrupt use of it, that it stripped him of all those riches and honours which a long series of merits had heaped upon him. But in this prayer, at the same time that we find him prostrating himself before the great mercy-seat, and humbled under afflictions which at that time lay heavy upon him, we see him supported by the sense of his integrity, his zeal, his devotion, and his love to mankind, which give him a much higher figure in the minds of thinking men, than that greatness had done from which he was fallen. I shall beg leave to write down the prayer itself, with the title to it, as it was found among his lordship's papers, written in his own hand; not being able to furnish my reader with an entertainment more suitable to this solemn time.[270]
A PRAYER OR PSALM MADE BY MY LORD BACON, CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND.
"Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Father; from my youth up my Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter. Thou, O Lord, soundest and searchest the depths and secrets of all hearts; Thou acknowledgest the upright of heart; Thou judgest the hypocrite; Thou ponderest men's thoughts and doings as in a balance; Thou measurest their intentions as with a line; vanity and crooked ways cannot be hid from Thee.
"Remember, O Lord! how Thy servant hath walked before Thee; remember what I have first sought, and what hath been principal in my intentions. I have loved Thy assemblies, I have mourned for the divisions of Thy Church, I have delighted in the brightness of Thy sanctuary. This vine which Thy right hand hath planted in this nation, I have ever prayed unto Thee, that it might have the first and the latter rain, and that it might stretch her branches to the seas, and to the floods. The state and bread of the poor and oppressed have been precious in mine eyes; I have hated all cruelty and hardness of heart; I have (though in a despised weed) procured the good of all men. If any have been my enemies, I thought not of them, neither hath the sun almost set upon my displeasure; but I have been as a dove, free from superfluity of maliciousness. Thy creatures have been my books, but Thy Scriptures much more. I have sought Thee in the courts, fields, and gardens, but I have found Thee in Thy temples.
"Thousands have been my sins, and ten thousands my transgressions, but Thy sanctifications have remained with me, and my heart (through Thy grace) hath been an unquenched coal upon Thine altar.
"O Lord, my strength! I have since my youth met with Thee in all my ways, by Thy fatherly compassions, by Thy comfortable chastisements, and by Thy most visible providence. As Thy favours have increased upon me, so have Thy corrections; so as Thou hast been always near me, O Lord! And ever as my worldly blessings were exalted, so secret darts from Thee have pierced me; and when I have ascended before men, I have descended in humiliation before Thee. And now when I thought most of peace and honour, Thy hand is heavy upon me, and hath humbled me according to Thy former loving-kindness, keeping me still in Thy fatherly school, not as a bastard, but as a child. Just are Thy judgments upon me for my sins, which are more in number than the sands of the sea, but have no proportion to Thy mercies; for what are the sands of the sea? Earth, heavens, and all these are nothing to Thy mercies. Besides my innumerable sins, I confess before Thee, that I am debtor to Thee for the gracious talent of Thy gifts and graces, which I have neither put into a napkin, nor put it (as I ought) to exchangers, where it might have made best profit, but misspent it in things for which I was least fit: so I may truly say, my soul hath been a stranger in the course of my pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my Saviour's sake, and receive me unto Thy bosom, or guide me in Thy ways."
FOOTNOTES:
[270] Christmas.
=No. 268.= [STEELE.
From _Saturday, Dec. 23_, to _Tuesday, Dec. 26, 1710_.
----"O te, Bolane, cerebri Felicem!" Aiebam tacitus; quum quidlibet ille Garriret.----
HOR., 1 Sat. ix. 11.
_From my own Apartment._
At my coming home last night, I found upon my table the following petition or project, sent me from Lloyd's Coffee-house[271] in the city, with a present of port wine, which had been bought at a late auction held in that place:
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.
_Lloyd's Coffee-house, Lombard Street, Dec. 23._
"We the customers of this coffee-house, observing that you have taken into your consideration the great mischiefs daily done in this city by coffee-house orators, do humbly beg leave to represent to you, that this coffee-house being provided with a pulpit for the benefit of such auctions that are frequently made in this place, it is our custom, upon the first coming in of the news, to order a youth, who officiates as the Kidney[272] of the coffee-house, to get into the pulpit, and read every paper with a loud and distinct voice, while the whole audience are sipping their respective liquors. We do therefore, sir, humbly propose, that there be a pulpit erected within every coffee-house of this city and the adjacent parts; that one of the waiters of the coffee-house be nominated as reader to the said pulpit; that after the news of the day has been published by the said lecturer, some politician of good note do ascend into the said pulpit; and after having chosen for his text any article of the said news, that he do establish the authority of such article, clear the doubts that may arise thereupon, compare it with parallel texts in other papers, advance upon it wholesome points of doctrine, and draw from it salutary conclusions for the benefit and edification of all that hear him. We do likewise humbly propose, that upon any such politician's quitting the pulpit, he shall be succeeded by any other orator that finds himself moved by the same public spirit, who shall be at full liberty either to enforce or overthrow what the other has said before him, and may in the same manner be succeeded by any other politician, who shall with the same liberty confirm or impugn his reasons, strengthen or invalidate his conjectures, enlarge upon his schemes, or erect new ones of his own. We do likewise further propose, that if any person, of what age or rank soever, do presume to cavil at any paper that has been read, or to hold forth upon it longer than the space of one minute, that he be immediately ordered up into the pulpit, there to make good anything that he has suggested upon the floor. We do likewise further propose, that if any one plays the orator in the ordinary coffee-house conversation, whether it be upon peace or war, on plays or sermons, business or poetry, that he be forthwith desired to take his place in the pulpit.
"This, sir, we humbly presume may in a great measure put a stop to those superficial statesmen who would not dare to stand up in this manner before a whole congregation of politicians, notwithstanding the long and tedious harangues and dissertations which they daily utter in private circles, to the breaking of many honest tradesmen, the seducing of several eminent citizens, the making of numberless malcontents, and to the great detriment and disquiet of her Majesty's subjects."
I do heartily concur with my ingenious friends of the above-mentioned coffee-house in these their proposals; and because I apprehend there may be reasons to put an immediate stop to the grievance complained of, it is my intention that, till such time as the aforesaid pulpits can be erected, every orator do place himself within the bar, and from thence dictate whatsoever he shall think necessary for the public good.
And further, because I am very desirous that proper ways and means should be found out for the suppressing of story-tellers and fine talkers[273] in all ordinary conversation whatsoever, I do insist, that in every private club, company, or meeting over a bottle, there be always an elbow-chair placed at the table, and that as soon as any one begins a long story, or extends his discourse beyond the space of one minute, he be forthwith thrust into the said elbow-chair, unless upon any of the company's calling out to the chair, he breaks off abruptly, and holds his tongue.
There are two species of men, notwithstanding anything that has been here said, whom I would exempt from the disgrace of the elbow-chair. The first are those buffoons that have a talent of mimicking the speech and behaviour of other persons, and turning all their patrons, friends and acquaintance, into ridicule. I look upon your pantomime as a legion in a man, or at least to be like Virgil's monster, with a hundred mouths and as many tongues:
----_Linguæ centum sunt, oraque centum_----
and therefore would give him as much time to talk in, as would be allowed to the whole body of persons he represents, were they actually in the company which they divert by proxy. Provided however, that the said pantomime do not, upon any pretence whatsoever, utter anything in his own particular opinion, language, or character.
I would likewise in the second place grant an exemption from the elbow-chair to any person who treats the company, and by that means may be supposed to pay for his audience. A guest cannot take it ill if he be not allowed to talk in his turn by a person who puts his mouth to a better employment, and stops it with good beef and mutton. In this case the guest is very agreeably silenced, and seems to hold his tongue under that kind of bribery which the ancients called _bos in lingua_.[274]
If I can once extirpate the race of solid and substantial humdrums, I hope, by my wholesome and repeated advices, quickly to reduce the insignificant tittle-tattles and matter-of-fact men that abound in every quarter of this great city.
Epictetus, in his little system of morality, prescribes the following rule with that beautiful simplicity which shines through all his precepts: "Beware that thou never tell thy dreams in company; for notwithstanding thou mayest take a pleasure in telling thy dreams, the company will take no pleasure in hearing them."
This rule is conformable to a maxim which I have laid down in a late paper,[275] and must always inculcate into those of my readers who find in themselves an inclination to be very talkative and impertinent, that they should not speak to please themselves, but those that hear them.
It has been often observed by witty essay writers, that the deepest waters are always the most silent; that empty vessels make the greatest sound, and tinkling cymbals the worst music. The Marquis of Halifax, in his admirable "Advice to a Daughter,"[276] tells her, that good sense has always something sullen in it: but as sullenness does not only imply silence, but an ill-natured silence, I wish his lordship had given a softer name to it. Since I am engaged unawares in quotations, I must not omit the satire which Horace has written against this impertinent talkative companion, and which, I think, is fuller of humour than any other satire he has written. This great author, who had the nicest taste of conversation, and was himself a most agreeable companion, had so strong an antipathy to a great talker, that he was afraid some time or other it would be mortal to him, as he has very humorously described it in his conversation with an impertinent fellow who had liked to have been the death of him:
_Interpellandi locus hic erat: "Est tibi mater; Cognati, quis te salvo est opus?" "Haud mihi quisquam. Omnes composui." "Felices, nunc ego resto. Confice, namque instat fatum mihi triste, Sabella Quod puero cecinit divinâ mota anus urnâ: 'Hunc neque dira venena, nec hosticus auseret ensis, Nec laterum dolor, aut tussis, nec tarda podagra. Garrulus hunc quando consumet cunque: loquaces, Si sapiat, vitet, simul atque adoleverit ætas._'"[277]
Thus translated by Mr. Oldham:
Here I got room to interrupt: "Have you A mother, sir, or kindred living now?" "Not one, they all are dead." "Troth, so I guessed; The happier they," said I, "who are at rest. Poor I am only left unmurdered yet: Haste, I beseech you, and despatch me quite, For I am well convinced my time is come; When I was young, a gipsy told my doom. 'This lad,' said she, and looked upon my hand, 'Shall not by sword or poison come to's end, Nor by the fever, dropsy, gout, or stone; But he shall die by an eternal tongue: Therefore, when he's grown up, if he be wise, Let him avoid great talkers, I advise.'"
FOOTNOTES:
[271] Edward Lloyd's Coffee-house in Tower Street is first heard of in 1688; in 1692 Lloyd moved to Lombard Street, at the corner of Abchurch Lane. Periodical sales were held at his house, which was the resort of merchants and shipowners. The Society of Lloyd's was established in 1770.
[272] The waiter (See No. 1).
[273] See No. 264.
[274] An image of a bull or cow was often stamped on a coin, which was thence called "bos."
[275] No. 264.
[276] Several passages from the "Advice to a Daughter," by George Savile, Marquis of Halifax, were used in Steele's "Ladies' Library" (1714).
[277] Horace, I Sat. ix. 26.
=No. 269.= [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Dec. 26_, to _Thursday, Dec. 28, 1710_.
----Hæ nugæ seria ducent In mala.----
HOR., Ars Poet. 451.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 27._
I find my correspondents are universally offended at me for taking notice so seldom of their letters, and fear people have taken the advantage of my silence to go on in their errors; for which reason I shall hereafter be more careful to answer all lawful questions and just complaints as soon as they come to my hands. The two following epistles relate to very great mischiefs in the most important articles of life, love, and friendship:
* * * * *
_Dorsetshire, Dec. 20._
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"'Tis my misfortune to be enamoured of a lady that is neither very beautiful, very witty, nor at all well-natured; but has the vanity to think she excels in all these qualifications, and therefore is cruel, insolent, and scornful. When I study to please her, she treats me with the utmost rudeness and ill manners: if I approach her person, she fights, she scratches me: if I offer a civil salute, she bites me; insomuch, that very lately, before a whole assembly of ladies and gentlemen, she ripped out a considerable part of my left cheek. This is no sooner done, but she begs my pardon in the most handsome and becoming terms imaginable, gives herself worse language than I could find in my heart to do, lets me embrace her to pacify her while she is railing at herself, protests she deserves the esteem of no one living, says I am too good to contradict her when she thus accuses herself. This atones for all, tempts me to renew my addresses, which are ever returned in the same obliging manner. Thus, without some speedy relief, I am in danger of losing my whole face. Notwithstanding all this, I dote upon her, and am satisfied she loves me, because she takes me for a man of sense, which I have been generally thought, except in this one instance. Your reflections upon this strange amour would be very useful in these parts, where we are overrun with wild beauties and romps. I earnestly beg your assistance, either to deliver me from the power of this unaccountable enchantment, or, by some proper animadversions, civilise the behaviour of this agreeable rustic. I am,
"Sir, "Your most humble Servant, "EBENEZER."[278]
* * * * *
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"I now take leave to address you in your character of censor, and complain to you, that among the various errors in conversation which you have corrected, there is one which, though it has not escaped a general reproof, yet seems to deserve a more particular severity. 'Tis a humour of jesting on disagreeable subjects, and insisting on the jest the more it creates uneasiness; and this some men think they have a title to do as friends. Is the design of jesting to provoke? Or does friendship give a privilege to say things with a design to shock? How can that be called a jest which has nothing in it but bitterness? 'Tis generally allowed necessary, for the peace of company, that men should a little study the tempers of each other; but certainly that must be in order to shun what's offensive, not to make it a constant entertainment. The frequent repetition of what appears harsh, will unavoidably leave a rancour that's fatal to friendship; and I doubt much, whether it would be an argument of a man's good humour, if he should be roused, by perpetual teasing, to treat those that do it as his enemies. In a word, whereas 'tis a common practice to let a story die, merely because it does not touch, I think such as mention one they find does, are as troublesome to society, and as unfit for it, as wags, men of fire, good talkers, or any other apes in conversation; and therefore, for the public benefit, I hope you'll cause them to be branded with such a name as they deserve. I am,
"Sir, yours, "PATIENT FRIENDLY."
The case of Ebenezer is a very common one, and is always cured by neglect. These fantastical returns of affection proceed from a certain vanity in the other sex, supported by a perverted taste in ours. I must publish it as a rule, that no faults which proceed from the will, either in a mistress or a friend, are to be tolerated. But we should be so complaisant to ladies, to let them displease when they aim at doing it. Pluck up a spirit, Ebenezer, recover the use of your judgment, and her faults will appear, or her beauties vanish. "Her faults begin to please me as well as my own," is a sentence very prettily put into the mouth of a lover by the comic poet,[279] but he never designed it for a maxim of life, but the picture of an imperfection. If Ebenezer takes my advice, the same temper which made her insolent to his love, will make her submissive to his indifference.
I cannot wholly ascribe the faults mentioned in the second letter to the same vanity or pride in companions who secretly triumph over their friends, in being sharp upon them in things where they are most tender. But when this sort of behaviour does not proceed from that source, it does from barrenness of invention, and an inability to support a conversation in a way less offensive. It is the same poverty which makes men speak or write smuttily, that forces them to talk vexingly. As obscene language is an address to the lewd for applause, so are sharp allusions an appeal to the ill-natured. But mean and illiterate is that conversation where one man exercises his wit to make another exercise his patience.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Whereas Plagius has been told again and again, both in public and private, that he preaches excellently well, and still goes on to preach as well as ever, and all this to a polite and learned audience; this is to desire, that he would not hereafter be so eloquent, except to a country congregation, the proprietors of Tillotson's works having consulted the learned in the law, whether preaching a sermon they have purchased, is not to be construed publishing their copy.
* * * * *
Mr. Dogood is desired to consider, that his story is severe upon a weakness, and not a folly.
FOOTNOTES:
[278] There is a letter by Robin Harper on the same subject in Lillie's "Letters sent to the _Tatler_ and _Spectator_," i. 326.
[279] Congreve, "The Way of the World," act i. sc. 3.
=No. 270.= [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Dec. 28_, to _Saturday, Dec. 30, 1710_.
Cum pulchris tunicis sumet nova consilia et spes.
HOR., 1 Ep. xviii. 33.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 29._
According to my late resolution, I take the holidays to be no improper season to entertain the town with the addresses of my correspondents. In my walks every day there appear all round me very great offenders in the point of dress. An armed tailor had the impudence yesterday in the park to smile in my face, and pull off a laced hat to me, as it were in contempt of my authority and censure. However, it is a very great satisfaction, that other people as well as myself are offended with these improprieties. The following notices from persons of different sexes and qualities are a sufficient instance how useful my Lucubrations are to the public.
* * * * *
"_Jack's Coffee-house, near Guildhall, Dec. 27._
"COUSIN BICKERSTAFF,
"It has been the peculiar blessing of our family to be always above the smiles or frowns of fortune, and by a certain greatness of mind to restrain all irregular fondnesses or passions. From hence it is, that though a long decay, and a numerous descent, have obliged many of our house to fall into the arts of trade and business, no one person of us has ever made an appearance that betrayed our being unsatisfied with our own station of life, or has ever affected a mien or gesture unsuitable to it.
"You have up and down in your writings very justly remarked, that it is not this or the other profession or quality among men that gives us honour and esteem, but the well or ill behaving ourselves in those characters. It is therefore with no small concern, that I behold in coffee houses and public places my brethren, the tradesmen of this city, put off the smooth, even, and ancient decorum of thriving citizens, for a fantastical dress and figure, improper for their persons and characters, to the utter destruction of that order and distinction which of right ought to be between St. James's and Milk Street, the Camp and Cheapside.
"I have given myself some time to find out, how distinguishing the frays in a lot of muslins, or drawing up a regiment of thread laces, or making a panegyric on pieces of sagathy[280] or Scotch plaid, should entitle a man to a laced hat or sword, a wig tied up with ribbons, or an embroidered coat. The College[281] say, this enormity proceeds from a sort of delirium in the brain, which makes it break out first about the head, and, for want of timely remedies, fall upon the left thigh, and from thence in little mazes and windings run over the whole body, as appears by pretty ornaments on the buttons, button-holes, garterings, sides of the breeches, and the like. I beg the favour of you to give us a discourse wholly upon the subject of habits, which will contribute to the better government of conversation amongst us and in particular oblige,
"Sir, "Your affectionate Cousin, "FELIX TRANQUILLUS."
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.
"_The humble Petition of Ralph Nab, haberdasher of hats and many other poor sufferers of the same trade:_
"Showeth--That for some years last past the use of gold and silver galloon[282] upon hats has been almost universal, being undistinguishably worn by soldiers, squires, lords, footmen, beaus, sportsmen, traders, clerks, prigs, smarts, cullies, pretty fellows, and sharpers.
"That the said use and custom has been two ways very prejudicial to your petitioners: first, in that it has induced men, to the great damage of your petitioners, to wear their hats upon their heads, by which means the said hats last much longer whole than they would do if worn under their arms. Secondly, in that very often a new dressing and a new lace supply the place of a new hat, which grievance we are chiefly sensible of in the spring-time, when the company is leaving the town; it so happening commonly, that a hat shall frequent all winter the finest and best assemblies without any ornaments at all, and in May shall be tricked up with gold or silver to keep company with rustics, and ride in the rain.
"All which premises your petitioners humbly pray you to take into your consideration, and either to appoint a day in your Court of Honour, when all pretenders to the galloon may enter their claims, and have them approved or rejected, or to give us such other relief as to your great wisdom shall seem meet.
"And your petitioners, &c."
Order my friend near Temple Bar, the author of the "Hunting-Cock," to assist the court when this petition is read, of which Mr. Lillie to give him notice.
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.
"_The humble Petition of Elizabeth Slender, spinster:_
"Showeth--That on the 20th of this instant December, her friend Rebecca Hive and your petitioner walking in the Strand, saw a gentleman before us in a gown, whose periwig was so long and so much powdered, that your petitioner took notice of it, and said, she wondered that lawyer would so spoil a new gown with powder. To which it was answered, that he was no lawyer but a clergyman. Upon a wager of a pot of coffee we overtook him, and your petitioner was soon convinced she had lost.
"Your petitioner therefore desires your worship to cite the clergyman before you, and to settle and adjust the length of canonical periwigs, and the quantity of powder to be made use of in them, and to give such other directions as you shall think fit.[283]
"And your petitioner, &c."
Q. Whether this gentleman be not chaplain to a regiment, and in such case allow powder accordingly?
After all that can be thought on these subjects, I must confess, that the men who dress with a certain ambition to appear more than they are, are much more excusable than those who betray, in the adorning their persons, a secret vanity and inclination to shine in things, wherein if they did succeed, it would rather lessen than advance their character. For this reason, I am more provoked at the allegations relating to the clergyman, than any other hinted at in these complaints. I have indeed a long time with much concern observed abundance of pretty fellows in sacred orders, and shall in due time let them know, that I pretend to give ecclesiastical as well as civil censures. A man well bred and well dressed in that habit, adds to the sacredness of his function an agreeableness not to be met with among the laity. I own I have spent some evenings among the men of wit of that profession with an inexpressible delight. Their habitual care of their character gives such a chastisement to their fancy, that all which they utter in company is as much above what you meet with in other conversations, as the charms of a modest are superior to those of a light woman. I therefore earnestly desire our young missionaries from the Universities to consider where they are, and not dress, and look, and move like young officers. It is no disadvantage to have a very handsome white hand; but were I to preach repentance to a gallery of ladies, I would, methinks, keep my gloves on. I have an unfeigned affection to the class of mankind appointed to serve at the altar, therefore am in danger of running out of my way, and growing too serious on this occasion; for which reason I shall end with the following epistle, which, by my interest in Tom Trot the penny-post, I procured a copy of.
"To the Rev. Mr. RALPH INCENSE, Chaplain to the Countess-Dowager of Brumpton.
"SIR,
"I heard and saw you preach last Sunday. I am an ignorant young woman, and understood not half you said: but ah! your manner, when you held up both your hands toward our pew! Did you design to win me to heaven, or yourself?
"Your humble Servant, "PENITENCE GENTLE."
ADVERTISEMENTS.
Mr. Proctorstaff, of Clare Hall, in Cambridge, is received as a kinsman, according to his request bearing date the 20th instant.
The distressed son of Æsculapius is desired to be more particular.
FOOTNOTES:
[280] A serge material.
[281] College of Physicians.
[282] Close lace made of gold, of silver, or silk.
[283] Anthony Wood says that Nathaniel Vincent, D.D., chaplain-in-ordinary to Charles II, preached before him at Newmarket in a long periwig, &c., according to the then fashion for gentlemen; and that his Majesty was so offended at it, that he commanded the Duke of Monmouth, Chancellor to the University of Cambridge, to see the statutes concerning decency of apparel put in execution; which was done accordingly. Thiers, in his treatise of perukes, says that no ecclesiastic wore a peruke before the Restoration.
=No. 271.= [STEELE.[284]
From _Saturday, Dec. 30, 1710_, to _Tuesday, Jan. 2, 1710-1_.
The printer having informed me, that there are as many of these papers printed as will make four volumes, I am now come to the end of my ambition in this matter, and have nothing further to say to the world, under the character of Isaac Bickerstaff. This work has indeed for some time been disagreeable to me, and the purpose of it wholly lost by my being so long understood as the author. I never designed in it to give any man any secret wound by my concealment, but spoke in the character of an old man, a philosopher, a humourist, an astrologer, and a censor, to allure my reader with the variety of my subjects, and insinuate, if I could, the weight of reason with the agreeableness of wit. The general purpose of the whole has been to recommend truth, innocence, honour, and virtue, as the chief ornaments of life; but I considered, that severity of manners was absolutely necessary to him who would censure others, and for that reason, and that only, chose to talk in a mask. I shall not carry my humility so far as to call myself a vicious man; but at the same time must confess, my life is at best but pardonable. And with no greater character than this, a man would make but an indifferent progress in attacking prevailing and fashionable vices, which Mr. Bickerstaff has done with a freedom of spirit that would have lost both its beauty and efficacy, had it been pretended to by Mr. Steele.
As to the work itself, the acceptance it has met with is the best proof of its value; but I should err against that candour which an honest man should always carry about him, if I did not own, that the most approved pieces in it were written by others, and those which have been most excepted against by myself. The hand[285] that has assisted me in those noble discourses upon the immortality of the soul, the glorious prospects of another life, and the most sublime ideas of religion and virtue, is a person who is too fondly my friend ever to own them; but I should little deserve to be his, if I usurped the glory of them. I must acknowledge at the same time, that I think the finest strokes of wit and humour in all Mr. Bickerstaff's Lucubrations are those for which he is also beholden to him.
As for the satirical parts of these writings, those against the gentlemen who profess gaming[286] are the most licentious; but the main of them I take to come from losing gamesters, as invectives against the fortunate; for in very many of them, I was very little else but the transcriber. If any have been more particularly marked at, such persons may impute it to their own behaviour (before they were touched upon) in publicly speaking their resentment against the author, and professing they would support any man who should insult him. When I mention this subject, I hope Major-General Davenport,[287] Brigadier Bisset,[288] and my Lord Forbes,[289] will accept of my thanks for their frequent good offices,[290] in professing their readiness to partake any danger that should befall me in so just an undertaking, as the endeavour to banish fraud and cozenage from the presence and conversation of gentlemen.
But what I find is the least excusable part of all this work is, that I have, in some places in it, touched upon matters which concern both the Church and State. All I shall say for this is, that the points I alluded to are such as concerned every Christian and freeholder in England; and I could not be cold enough to conceal my opinion on subjects which related to either of those characters. But politics apart, I must confess, it has been a most exquisite pleasure to me to frame characters of domestic life, and put those parts of it which are least observed into an agreeable view; to inquire into the seeds of vanity and affectation, to lay before my readers the emptiness of ambition: in a word, to trace human life through all its mazes and recesses, and show much shorter methods than men ordinarily practise, to be happy, agreeable, and great.
But to inquire into men's faults and weaknesses has something in it so unwelcome, that I have often seen people in pain to act before me, whose modesty only make them think themselves liable to censure. This, and a thousand other nameless things, have made it an irksome task to me to personate Mr. Bickerstaff any longer; and I believe it does not often happen, that the reader is delighted where the author is displeased.
All I can now do for the further gratification of the town, is to give them a faithful index and explication of passages and allusions, and sometimes of persons intended in the several scattered parts of the work. At the same time, the succeeding volumes shall discover which of the whole have been written by me, and which by others, and by whom, as far as I am able, or permitted.[291]
Thus I have voluntarily done what I think all authors should do when called upon. I have published my name to my writings, and given myself up to the mercy of the town (as Shakespeare expresses it) with all my imperfections on my head.[292] The indulgent readers'
Most obliged, Most obedient, Humble Servant, RICHARD STEELE.
FOOTNOTES:
[284] "Steele's last _Tatler_ came out to-day. You will see it before this comes to you, and how he takes leave of the world. He never told so much as Addison of it, who was surprised as much as I; but, to say the truth, it was time, for he grew cruel dull and dry. To my knowledge he had several good hints to go upon; but he was so lazy, and weary of the work, that he would not improve them" (Swift's "Journal," Jan. 2, 1711). A curious pamphlet, called "The Friendly Courier: By way of Letters from Persons in Town to their Acquaintance in the Country, containing whatever is Curious or Remarkable at Home or Abroad. Numb. I. To be continued" (London, 1711), opens with an account of the discontinuance of the _Tatler_: "What should this great matter be, but that the old man, the philosopher, the humourist, the astrologer, the censor, the undertaker, the constellation-monger, the Tatler, should be no longer Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq.; that he should have neither maid, dog, cat, pipes, or tobacco-box, in Sheer Lane; but one Richard Steele: from whence arises many fatal mischiefs," &c.
[285] Addison.
[286] See No. 56, &c.
[287] Major-General Sherington Davenport, of Worfield, in Shropshire, was, at the time here spoken of, lieutenant-colonel of the first troop of Horse Guards; towards the end of April 1714, having fallen under the displeasure of the Court, he was ordered to sell his commission in favour of Brigadier Panton. Colonel Wood and Colonel Paget had orders at the same time to sell their companies in the Foot Guards ("Polit. State," vols. vii. and viii. p. 412). About a year after, in the end of February 1714-15, Major-General Davenport bought, it is said, the regiment of Colonel Jocelyn, in Ireland, for £4000 (_Weekly Packet_, February 26, 1714-15).--(Nichols.)
[288] Brigadier Andrew Bisset was a native of Aberdeenshire, in North Britain. On the 25th of August 1717, he was appointed by George I. to the command of a regiment of foot, now called the 30th Regiment.
[289] George, Lord Forbes, admiral and diplomatist, was born in 1685, and succeeded his father as third Earl of Granard in 1734. He died in 1765 (see No. 61, note). In 1710 Lord Forbes was a captain in the navy, and a brigadier in the 4th troop of Horse Guards. He was wounded at the battle of Villaviciosa on the 10th of December.
[290] The story of the defence against angry sharpers afforded to Steele by Lord Forbes and his friends, has been told in a note to No. 115.
[291] See the preface to the original collected edition, given in vol. i.
[292] "Hamlet," act i. sc. 5.
APPENDIX
ADVERTISEMENTS FROM THE ORIGINAL NUMBERS OF THE "TATLER"
The most volatile Smelling-Bottle in the World; which smelled to, momentarily fetches the most dismal faintings, or swooning fits, and in a minute removes flushings, vapours, dulness, headache, megrims, &c. It takes off all heavy sleepiness, retards swoonings, keeps up the spirits to a miracle; and by its use admits of no faintings, but invigorates and enlivens the whole man, recreates and makes cheerful although never so sad, and in a moment raises all the sensitive faculties. It's also to be taken inwardly by drops, which effectually takes off and eradicates the very cause; for it potently relieves, comforts and strengthens the brain, creates and corroborates a stomach, removes sickness from it, helps digestion, cleanses the blood; and in a word, is the greatest cephalic, stomatic, hepatic, and powerful aromatic possible; therefore is extreme necessary for all Gentlemen, Ladies, &c., always to be carried in their pockets. Is only sold at Mr. King's, Picture-shop, in the Poultry, and at Mr. Overton's, at the Golden Buck, Picture-shop, against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet Street, at 2s. and 6d. each, with printed directions. (No. 47.)
* * * * *
This is to certify that I, Anne Gimball, daughter of Ezekiel Gimball, in Christ Church parish in Southwark, was blind of cataracts from my birth, and continued so till I was sixteen years of age, when I applied myself to Sir William Read, Her Majesty's Oculist, in Durham Yard in the Strand, London; who couched, and brought me to sight of both my eyes in less than two minutes, and have now so perfect a sight, that I am capable of any business; as is attested for the benefit of the Public, this 4th of Nov. 1709.
ANNE GIMBALL. _Witness_, EZEKIEL GIMBALL. (No. 92.)
* * * * *
Just Published, an exact narrative of many surprising matters of fact, uncontestably wrought by an evil spirit or spirits, in the house of Master Jan Smagge, farmer, in Canvy Island, near Leigh in Essex, upon the 10th, 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th of September last, in the day time; in the presence of the Rev. Mr. Lord, curate to the said island, Jan Smagge, master of the house, and of several neighbours, servants, and strangers, who came at different times, as Mr. Lord's particular care to discharge his duty, and their curiosity, led them to this place of the wonders. Together with a short account of some of the extraordinary things credibly said to have formerly disturbed the house, both before and since Mr. Smagge came into it. The utmost caution being used not to exceed the truth in the minutest circumstance. In a letter from Malden in Essex, to a gentleman in London. Printed and sold by John Morphew, 1709, pr. 2d. (No. 95.)
* * * * *
The Queen's Bagnio, in Long Acre, is made very convenient for both sexes to sweat and bathe, privately every day, and to be cupped in the best perfection, there being the best and newest instrument for that purpose, pr. 5s. for one single person; but if 2 or more come together, 4s. each. There is no entertainment for women after 12 o'clock at night. But all gentlemen who desire beds may have them for 2s. per night.--HENRY AYME.
If any persons desire to be cupped at their own houses, he will wait on them himself.... The way of cupping is the very same as was used by the late Mr. Verdier deceased. (No. 95.)
* * * * *
Perfect cure for the Asthma by an Elixir (a pleasant and innocent medicine) to be taken in drops, which has done wonders in that case; but the author's saying so being not so convincing as trying it will be, he desires you would for your own sakes, when, if it does no good, can do no harm to the body, nor much to the purse in laying out 3s. 6d. which is the price of a bottle. To be had only at Mr. Lawrence's, a Toyshop at the Griffin, the corner of Bucklersbury, Poultry. (No. 98.)
* * * * *
The Perpetual Office of the Charitable Society of single persons in city or country, for raising and assuring money upon marriages; when they pay but sixpence entrance, and two shillings per quarter, till they marry; and whensoever that is, they are secured to receive all their money back, and 150 per cent. clear profit certain, whether full or not, and stand very fair to gain £40 or £50 when full, and may get 1, 2, 3, or £400. The entries daily increase, and the shares of the new married are risen from 48s. to above £7 since the last month. The sooner you enter, the more you are like to gain; all which doth more fully appear from the proposals, given gratis, at the said office, at London Stone, in Cannon Street. (No. 102.)
* * * * *
Any gentleman that wants a man for shooting, hunting, setting, or any manner of game, may hear of one well qualified at the Printing Press in Little Britain. He is a good scholar, and shaves well. (No. 116.)
* * * * *
Mr. Vickers, the clergyman, who cures the King's Evil, liveth in Sherburne Lane, near Lombard Street, who hath cured great numbers of people grievously afflicted therewith (as himself formerly was) in their eyes and joints. See the printed account of his specific Remedy.... 3rd edition. (No. 155.)
* * * * *
I, Ellin. Newcomb, living with my Lady Holt, in Bedford Row, London, having had the stone and cholic for four years last past; and tho' I made use of eminent advice, and took a great many medicines without the least advantage, I at last happily heard of Mr. J. Moore, apothecary, at the Pestle and Mortar in Abchurch Lane, near Lombard Street, London, and I have never been troubled with my former illness since the taking his medicines, but continue in perfect health; and for the good of the public I desire that this may be published. Witness my hand, April 14, 1710. Eleanor Newcomb. (No. 168.)
* * * * *
An excellent secret to prevent and take away all pits, scabs or marks of the Small-Pox; also all manner of scurf or redness occasioned by that distemper, rendering the skin smooth, soft and delicately fair; being speedily applied after the smallpox begins to die, it certainly prevents pitting, and assuredly takes away all settled humours, freckles or any defilement of the skin. Sold only at Mr. Stephens', the sign of the Golden Comb, Toyshop, under St. Dunstan's Church, Fleet Street, at 2s. 6d. a pot, with directions at large. (No. 175.)
* * * * *
Mr. Pory's sale of goods, to be disposed of by way of lots, is to be drawn on Saturday, the 16th instant, at the Blue Boar in Eagle Street, near Red Lion Square, being near full. (No. 222.)
FROM THE FOLIO EDINBURGH REPRINT OF THE "TATLER."
These who design to make a collection of this paper, and will subscribe to take them for a year, shall be duly furnished by the printer, and their copies printed on a fine writing-paper, at the rate of 7s. sterl. for a whole year's papers, one half of which is to be paid at subscribing, and the other at the expiration of a year after their subscription. No more fine copies will be printed than what are subscribed for. Subscriptions will be taken in at the printer's shop, next door to the Red Lion, opposite to the Lucken-booths, Edinburgh.
The ISOBEL of Kinghorn, burden 50 tons, Robert Tod, Master, for present lying at Bruntisland, and from thence will come to Leith and take in goods and passengers, and will sail with the first convoy for London. The Master is to be spoke with when at Edinburgh at Andrew Turnbull's in Mary King's Closs; and when in Leith at Mrs. Baird's, and at his own house in Kinghorn. (No. 64.)
* * * * *
At Skinner's Hall, on Friday the 21st instant, will be a Consort of Music, for the benefit of Mr. Krumbein, being the last this session. Where will be sung some Songs of the Opera of Hiddaspes by Mr. Steill; as also Mr. Craig is to play a solo. The consort begins at six a clock. Tickets are to be had at the London Coffee-house, at half-a-crown each. The gentry are intreated to absent their servants from the Music-Hall. No plaids. (No. 67.)
* * * * *
The Private Gentleman's Collection of Books, lately mentioned in the Scots _Courant_, and consisting of about 130 Volumes in Folio, 100 Volumes in Quarto, and above 600 Volumes in Octavo _et infra_ (beside a considerable collection of rare pamphlets of all sorts) are to be sold by auction at the house of Andrew Brown, Watchmaker, over against the Tron Church in Edinburgh; where printed Catalogues, with the Conditions of Sale, may be had, as also at James Watson the Printer's shop next door to the Red Lion; and Catalogues may likewise be seen at all the Coffee-Houses in Town. The auction will begin on Tuesday the 2d of January, 1711, by 2 a clock in the afternoon precisely, and will continue daily till all be sold. Note, there are several very choice and curiously bound books in this collection fit for Ladies' closets, both for private and public devotion, &c. (No. 140.)
CORRIGENDA
Vol. i. p. 74, note 2. _Delete_ "and put to death."
Vol. i. p. 229, note. _For_ "fair" _read_ "fan."
Vol. i. p. 280, note. _For_ "Harry" _read_ "Hans."
Vol. ii. p. 420. _For_ "petulantium" _read_ "petulantiam."
Vol. iii. p. 266, l. 9. _For_ "surpass" _read_ "suppress."
Vol. iv. p. 154, note. _For_ "Anglia" _read_ "Angliæ."
Vol. iv. p. 294, note. _For_ "Notitiæ" _read_ "Notitia."
INDEX
Abchurch Lane, iii. 95 _note_; iv. 152 _note_, 360 _note_, 381
Abercorn, Earl of, ii. 20 _note_
Abigail, Mrs., i. 89 _note_; iv. 167
Abingdon, Countess of, i. 325 _note_
Absolute power satirised, i. 100 _seq._
Abstinence the best physic, iv. 227 _seq._
Ace, a sharper, ii. 177
Achilles, his shade rejoices in the virtue of his son, iii. 203, 204: referred to, i. 57, 58, 59, 60, 256; ii. 129, 232; iii. 172; iv. 160
Acorn, an honest Englishman, i. 107
"Act, an," a meeting for conferring degrees, i. 366 and _note_
Acting, as taught by Hamlet, i. 288, 289
Actæon under enchantment of the sharpers, ii. 69: fair prey to sharpers, ii. 195
Actors should not gag, ii. 280, 281: advice to, iv. 42, 43
_Adagia_, the, of Erasmus, i. 360 _note_
Adam, puppet, i. 140; iii. 188, 189: as a husband, iv. 116, 117, 126, 127: referred to, i. 55, 56, 330, 381; ii. 358, 424; iv. 211, 249, 340
Addison, his age and position at starting of _The Tatler_, i. vii, viii: his share in the work, i. xiii, xiv, xv: called in and found indispensable, i. 4: author of characters of men and women under names of musical instruments, the distress of the news-writers, the inventory of the play-house, description of thermometer, _ibid._: credited Steele with wit, i. 5: against opera, i. 40 _note_: on Dryden, i. 56 _note_: his _Remarks on several parts of Italy_, and _Dialogues on Medals_, i. 152 _note_: his _The Drummer_, i. 155 _note_, 158 _note_, 192 _note_; iii. 227 _note_: on witches, i. 180 _note_: plea for D'Urfey, i. 348 _note_: his _The Campaign_, i. 353 and _note_: on the fan, ii. 21 _note_: on absurd fuss over dresses on stage, ii. 33 _note_: account of Switzerland, ii. 299, 300: his _Rosamund_, iii. 276 _note_: his treatment of death, iii. 351 _note_: a tribute to his assistance, iv. 376
Referred to, i. 22 _note_, 32 _note_, 36 _note_, 41 _note_, 49 _note_, 57 _note_, 112 _note_, 136 _note_, 155 _note_, 192 _note_, 217 _note_, 265 _note_, 291 _note_, 292 _note_, 350 _note_, 362 _note_, 371 _note_, 382 _note_; ii. 92 _note_, 146 _note_, 171 _note_, 201 _note_, 331 _note_, 349 _note_, 423 _note_; iii. 5 _note_, 44 _note_, 55 _note_, 111 _note_, 113 _note_, 178 _note_, 218 _note_, 227 _note_, 299 _note_, 332 _note_, 389 _note_; iv. 32 _note_, 93 _note_, 94 _note_, 116 _note_, 142 _note_, 154 _note_, 201 _note_, 210 _note_, 264 _note_, 374 _note_
Author of _Tatler_, Nos. 24, 96, 97, 100, 108, 116, 119-122, 129, 131, 133, 146, 148, 152-158, 161-163, 165, 192, 216, 218, 220, 221, 224, 226, 239, 240, 249, 250, 255, 267
Author (?) of Nos. 36, 37, 38, 50, 51, 77, 78, 118, 130, 136, 151, 219, 222, 237 with Steele, author of Nos. 42, 75, 81, 86, 93, 101, 103, 110, 111, 114, 147, 160, 253, 259, 260, 262, 265
(?) Editor of No. 223
Part author of Nos. 18 (?), 59 (?), 214
Articles by, i. 344; ii. 27, 35, 273, 282 _seq._
Addison, Gulston, brother of Joseph, Governor of Fort George, iv. 204 _note_
---- Dorothy, wife of Dr. Sartre, and later of Daniel Combes, iv. 204 _note_
---- Lancelot, of Magdalen, iv. 204 _note_
---- Dr. Lancelot, a model father, iv. 204 and _note_: referred to, iv. 201 _note_
"Address to the cock-killers," iii. 113 _note_
Admiralty, the, ii. 125 _note_
Adonis, ii. 5; iii. 341; iv. 250
Adroit, Major, a very topping fellow, i. 320
_Advancement of Learning_, by Bacon, quoted, i. 145; ii. 392, 393
Advertisements, in _Tatler_, increased, i. 182 _note_: concerning, iv. 147 _seq._: a scheme for, iv. 170, 171: from original edition of _Tatler_, iv. 379 _seq._
Advice, the danger of giving, i. 210, 211
_Advice to a Daughter_, by Halifax, iv. 363 and _note_
_Advice to a Painter_, by Waller, i. 34 and _note_
_Advice to the Poets_, by Sir Richard Blackmore, i. 122 and _note_
Ælia, iii. 86
Æneas, marriage with Lavinia, ii. 281 _note_: visits the shades, iii. 211 _seq._, 235: referred to, i. 52, 57; ii. 129, 232; iii. 105; iv. 262
_Æneid_ quoted, i. 215 and _note_, 257; ii. 142, 146, 308, 332, 405; iii. 22, 105, 330 and _note_; iv. 104: a sequel to, ii. 281 and _note_: referred to, iii. 263
Æschines, ii. 119; iii. 360
Æschylus, i. 367
Æsculapius (_i.e._ Dr. John Radcliffe), disappointed in love at the age of sixty, i. 355 _note_ and _seq._, 376, 384; ii. 4, 128
---- iv. 160, 374
Æsop, his Fables imitated, ii. 68 _seq._, 315; iii. 11: referred to, ii. 232
Æthiopians, i. 58
Affectation condemned, i. 8: a budget of, ii. 202 _seq._
Affection, the government of, ii. 35 _seq._
Affliction, strange causes of, iii. 171
Africanus, _i.e._ Sir Scipio Hill, i. 296 _seq._
Afterday, Will, a man of expectations, iv. 18, 19
"After-life," an, iv. 351 and _note_
Afterwit, Solomon, ii. 236 _note_: letter from, ii. 243, 244
Agamemnon, i. 58, 59; iii. 202, 203
Age, old, the keenest pleasure of, iv. 69: the follies of, iv. 350 _seq._
Agesilaus, ii. 412 and _note_
Agincourt won on beef and mutton, iii. 179
Aglaura, destined for second wife of Duumvir, ii. 38
Agreda, iv. 158
Agrippa, ii. 286; iii. 137
Aisne, the, ii. 133
Aitken, G. A., on "Steele and some English Grammars," iv. 196 _note_
Ajax, i. 59, 60; iii. 104, 204, 205
Alba, Duke d', i. 97
Albemarle, Earl of, i. 399
Albergotti, iii. 333 and _note_
_Alchemist, The_, by Ben Jonson, i. 125, 126
Alcmena, iii. 202
Aldersgate Street, i. 334 _seq._; iii. 234 _note_
Aldobrandini, iii. 364
Aldrich, Dr. Henry, Dean of Christchurch, i. 281 _note_; ii. 171
Aldus, ii. 218; iii. 234, 249
Alethes, the guardian spirit of conscience, i. 389 _seq._
Aletheus, a gentleman of too much virtue for the age he lives in, ii. 50
_Alexander the Great; or, The Rival Queens_, by Lee, Mrs. Bracegirdle in, i. 17 _note_: George Powell in, i. 36: burlesque of, iii. 398 _note_ and _seq._: referred to, i. 139, 140, 141
Alexander, set a fashion in wry necks, ii. 202: at table of Fame, ii. 228: and his physician, iv. 78 _seq._: his character, iv. 81: referred to, i. 74 _note_, 257, 270; ii. 135 and _note_, 207, 297;