pp
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THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
JONATHAN SlVJlFT JLJL.'IX
l^fffuhfi . Hibiishcii S<fKJ jSvx hi J.ofKmnoi icJifes /'otfrnosfcr J(<n^.
THE
BRITISH ESSAYISTS;
WITH
PREFACES,
JIISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL,
Sir
ALEXANDER CHALMERS, A.M.
VOL. 11.
LONDON:
PRI>rrF,t> .FOR J. JOIINSOV, J. MCHOfJ AVHSOV, R. BAr.DWIV, r. ANDC
HIVINCTO.V, W. OlKlUGt AM) SON', \V. J. AM) J. RICHARDSON, A.
i ilKAIlAV, J. SEWKl.L, K. KAIJLDKK, (.. AVD W. XlCOt., T. rAVNt, G. AND ).
IMl.lNSD.V, W l.DW.MOfcS, G. Wll.KIK, J. MAIUKWS, V. M'UUEEV, CK^ILVY
AM) SON. |. ^,CAl(:ll^,lU), j. uai.klr, vekno; am) hood, h. r,t-A,
^^KrON ASU IIAHVEV, j. NUSN', t.ACKlVGlOV AM) CO. n. WALKKK,
CI.AKKF.ANI) SON, G. KEAKSLLY, 0. I.\W, J. WllIlL, U)Vt..MA\ ANU 1 fc!i^
I ADKLI,. JUN. AND DAVItS, [. RAKKEK, l. WAV, WYNNE AND CO. lOJE
A\D CO. CARl'l.NIEK AND CO. W. MILLER, MURRAY AND lilGIILr.Y, 4.
BAGMF.K, r. ULHSl, r. DOO.iE\ , U. niESEY, W. liAYNLo, J. UA^U1M;>
R. il. EVANS, J. MAWMAN; AND VV. CUE! Cll, EUINIlU.tGH.
9K
TATLER.
! ,
yo 38 8t.
toi n. b 3
1800502
coNTEyrs,
VOL. IL
38. \Js DLiellIng Whisperers withoiil Eni-
uess Characters : addison C'ontl-
rrontal Intelligence.., Steele
Sg. Oxford, and its Almanack Dialogi'.e on
Duels
40. Cure of" Lunatics On Love and Marriaj;e
41. Lxcrcise at Arms Character of a Qnes-
lioncr The Author accused of Per-
soiKiIiiies .
4?. lollies on Bribery : stef.lf, Character of
Aspasia : congreve Inventory of the
Play-honsc ADDISOW
43. D'Urfcy's Dedication: Steele New Sys-
tem of Philosophy : addison On tho
Sublime , STEZLA
44. F.culapiiis in Love uilh Hebe Sale of
the Play-house Articles Huinordus
CoiiiplaitU of Punch The CHtiiiiry
(jt-niU men who cannot bear a Jest
Continental lntelli;:ence
45. Storv of Teraininta Pn|>pct-sho\vs
Scene of liodilv Wit Characters of
I'lo'.ij and Seiiccio . . -m
Vlll .CONTENTS.
Ko.
4{). Character and Gallantries of Aurengezebc
Lines on the March to Tournay
without beat of Drum Continental
Intelligence steelb
47- Character of Sir Taffety Trippet Cure for
the Spleen Passions expn-ssed by
Shakspeare
48. Shades of Conscience and Honour Ge-
nius of Credit
49. I>ove and Lust Florio and Limbcrham
Nocturnus '
50- History of Orlando the Fair Powell's
Puppet-show
51. History of Orlando, Chap. 2. Pantomime
Tricks Powell's Pa]ipet-show ____
;52. Use of Delamira's Fan On Modesty
Characters of Nestor and Varillus
The modest Man and the modest Fel-
low I .
53. The civil Husband Dramatic Criticism
Coniinental Intelligence
54. The Government of Afl'eclion The Wife
and the Mistress Complaint against
Stentor Death of Lisander and Co-
riana ,
55. Story of aCure performed on a blind young
Man Continental Intelligence .
56. On Sliarpers Instances of Longevity in
France: Notices to Correspondents . . .
57. Emilia, a Woman too humble Sharping
Extortioners Satire on the French ap-
plied to the English New Coxcomb -
i;ON TENTS. Uc
Jfo.
ft8. Continence of Scipio Grammatical Pe-
dantryContinental Intelligenee steelr
59. On Sharpers Raffling Shops Character
of Actaeon Author accused of writing
nonsense : Steele Family of Green-
hats : SWIFT Continental Intelligence Steele
60. A Hake reclaimed by his Father's liberality
Women to be gained by nonsense
Mars Triumphant Advertisement ....
Cl. Men of Fire described Use of Satire
Distinction between Goldsmiths and
Coppersmiths Stentor Education and
Beauty of Women ^Letter from the
Artillery Ground ..
C2. Sharpers described as a pack of Dogs On
Wit Women the best Speakers Sal-
lust censured Story of Dampier's
Boatswain Continental Intelligence
^. Of the enjoyment of Life with regard to
others Use of Ridicule : Steele
MadoneUa's Platonic College : s wiFT^
Continental Intelligence Steele
64. Continental Intelligence: Steele Cha-
racter of Cleontes Hbgues
66. Character of a Battle-Critic Conduct of
the Bath Sharpers steels
(jO. Eloquence of the Pulpit : swift and
STEELE Infelicity of Riches to one
who is not a Gendcman Sharpers
(.^cuitiiicntal Intelligence Steele
No.
67. Proposals for Tallies of Fame : swift
(H)nii{)entai Intelligence Skill of Tran-
sition STEELB
68. Tables of Fame Female Sharpers :
SWIFT Causes of Tears Notice of a
Sharper Of a Book Steele
Cq. On acting or parts in Life well Promo-
tion of Eboracensis 'Letter from Two
J-adies inclined to marry the same Man
Bravery of the Allies Various No-
tices , .
70. Eloquence of the Pulpit: swift and
STEELE List of Sharpers steelAj
71. Dangers of Saiirical Writings: Steele
Irregular conduct of a Clergyman .
SWIFT Bctterton's Hamlet Reforma-
tion of Manners at Oxford STEELE
72. Story of PiEtus aiid Arria Want of ear-
nestness in the Pulpit Favonius
Decision of a Wager
73. Letter from Monoculus and Answer:
STEELE Account of a Club of Game-
sters : HUGHES Election for Queen-
hithe Ward STEELE
74. Letter from a Lover Letter 011 the ten-
dency of satirical characters ^l^able of
Fame Continental Intelligence .
75. Miss Jenny's Marriage Choice of Matches
in the Bickerstaff family addisok and STEELB
76. Errors of (jood-nature Com])laint of
Lovewell Bareboiies : Steele De-
CONTENTS. XL
fence of the Taller: hughes Con-
tinental Intelligence Notice to a young
Gentleman steelS
77. Aflectation of Faults and Imperfections
Original Letter from Marshal Eonfflers
Bath Physicians
78. Letters soliciting places at the Table of
Fame Character of Hippocrates Ad-
vertisement and Notice to Corre-
spondents
79. Advice to married Persons Mrs. Jenny's
Wedding-dinner Notice of a Pamphlet
80. Exorbitant price of Books JjCtter from a
splenetic Gentleman From a IJmper
Continenial Inte'lli;;;ence .
91. Vision of the Table of Fame : addi&on
Taking of Mons STEEra
6'.*. Story of the Cornish Lovers Of a Lover
who kills his Mistress
83. Remarks on the Tabic of Fnne Maria
declares a Passion for the Autlior Mis
answer Adv.intagc of being able to say
No Continental Intelligence
84. Censure of I^idles who attend Trinls for
R.ipes (.'asc of Lncrelia I'lgotism of
the French writers On giving Advice,
a Fable
T A T L E R.
N38. THURSDAY, JULY 7, 1709.
^ukquid agunt hominet
nojlri ejl farrago libelli,
JUV. Sat. r. 85, 8tf.
Whate'er men do, or sny, or tliink, or dream,
Our motley paper feizes for its theme. P.
By Mrs. Jenny Distaff, Half-sister to Mr,
BxCKERSTAFF.
From my own Apartment, July 6.
1 FIND among my brother's papers the following
XiiWn verhathn, which 1 wonder how he could sup-
press so long as he has, since it was sent him for no
other end, but to show the good effect his writings
Ikave already had upon the ill customs of the age.
" Sir, London, June 23.
" The end of all public papers ought to be the
benclit :uid instruction, as well as the diversion of
the readers ; to which I see none so truly conducive
as your late performances ; especially those tending-
VOL. U. IS
2 TATLER. N" 38.
to the rooting out from among us that unchristian-
like and bloody custom of dueUing ; which, that you
h.ave already in some measure performed, will ap-
pear to the publick in the following no less true
than heroic story.
" A noble gentleman of this city, who has the
honour of serving his country as Major of the Train-
bands, being at the general mart of stock-iobbers,
called Jonathan's, endeavouring to raise himself (as
all men of honour ought) to the degree of Colonel
at least; it happened that he bought the Bear of ano-
ther officer, wiio, though not commissioned in the
army, yet no less eminently seives the publick than
the other, in raising tlie credit of the kingdom, by
raising that of the stocks. However, having sold
the Bear, and words arising about the delivery, the
most noble Major, no less scorning to be cut-witted
in the cottee-house, than to run into the field, ac-
cording to method, abused the other with the titles
of rogue, villain, bear-skin man, and the like.
Whereupon satisfaction was demanded, and ac-
cepted ; so, forth the Major marched, command-
ing his adversary to follow. To a most spacious
room In the Slierlft^s house, near the place of quar-
rel, they come ; where, having due regard to what
you have lately published, they resohed not to shed
one another's blood In that barbarous manner you
prohibited; yet, not willing to put up afiVonts
without satisfaction, they stripped, and in decent
manner fo'ight full fairly with their wrathful hands.
The combat lasted a quarter of an hour ; in which
tinie victory was often doubtful, and many a dry
b'ow was strenuously laid on by each side, until the
Major, tinding his adversary obstinate, unwilling to
give him further chastisement, with most shrill
\oice cried out, ' I am satisfied enough !' Where-
N" 38. TATLER. S
upon the combat ceased, and both were friends im
meduitely.
" Thus the world may see, how necessary it is to
encourage those men, who make it their business to
instruct the people in every thing necessary tor their
preservation. I am informed, a body of worthy
citizens have agreed on an address of thanks to you
for what you have writ on the foregoing subject,
whereby they acknowledge one of their highly-
esteemed ofticers preserved from deaih.
Your humble servant,
A. B."
I fear the word Bear is hardly to be understood
among the polite people ; but I take the meaning to
be, that one who insures a real value upcn an ima-
ginary thing, is said to sell a Bear, and is the same
thing as a promise among courtiers, or a vow be-
tween lovers. I have writ to my brother to hasten
to town ; and hope that printing the letters directed
to him, which I know not how to answer, will
bring him speedily ; and, therefore, I add also the
following :
*' Mr. BicKERSTAFF, 7/?/ /J, ijoq.
" You have hinted a generous intention of taking
under your consideration tlie whisperers without
business, and laughers without occa-ion j as you
tender the welfare of your country, I intreat you
not to forget or delay so public-spirited a work.
Nov/ or never is the time. Many other calamities
may cease wiih the war ; but I dismally dread the
multiplication of these mortals under the ease and
luxurit)usness of a settled peace, half the blessing of
whit!) may be destroyed by tliem. Their m-.stake
lies certainly here, in a wretched belief, that their
iiiimickry passes for real business, or true wit.
B 3
4 TATLER, N" 38.
Dear Sir, convince them, that it never was, is, or
ever will be, cither of them ; nor ever did, does,
or to all futurity ever can, look like either of them ;
but that it is the most cursed disturbance in nature,
which is possible to be inflicted on mankind, under
the noble definition of a sociable creature. In doing
this. Sir, you will oblige more humble servants th;^u
can lind room to subscribe their names."
IVhites Chncolate-house, July 6.
In pursuance of my last date from hence, I am
to proceed on the accounts I promised of several
personages among the men, whose conspicuous for-
tunes, or ambition in showing their follies, have
exalted them above their fellows : The levity of
their minds is visible in their every word and ges-
ture, and there is not a day passes but puts me in
mind of Mr. Wycherley's character of a Coxcomb :
" He is ugly all over with the affectation of the fine
gentleman." Now though the women may put on
softn. ss in their looks, or affected severity, or inir
pertinent gaiety, or pert smartness, their self-love
and admiration cannot under any of these disguises
appear so invincible as that of the men. You may
easily take notice, that in all their actions there is a
secret approbation, either in the tone of their voice,
the turn of their body, or cast of their eye, which
shews that they are extremely in their own favour.
Take one of your men of business, he shall keep
you halt an hour with your hat off, entertaining you
with his consideration of that affair you spoke of to
him last, until he has drawn a crowd that observes
you in this grimace. Then, when he is public
enough, he immediately runs into secrets, and falls
a whispering. You and he make breaks with ad-
verbs; as, *' Bat however, thus far j" and then you
whisper again, and so on, until they who arc about
K" 38, TATLER, S
you are dispersed, and your busy man's vanity is no
longer gratified by the notice taken of what impor-
tance lie is, and how inconsiderable you are ; for
your pretender to business is never in secret, but in
public.
There is my dear Lord No-where, of all men the
most gracious and most obliging, the terror of Valets
de Chambre, whom he oppresses with good breed-
ing, by enquiring for my good lordj and for my
good lady's health. This inimitable courtier will
whisper a privy counsellor s lacquey with the utmost
goodness and condescension, to know when they
next sit; and is thoroughly taken up, and thinks he
has a part in a secret, if he knows that there is a
secret. " What it is," he will whisper you, that
" time will discover;" then he shrugs, and calls
you back again " Sir, I need not say to you,
tliat these things are not to be spoken of and
haikye, no names, I would not be quoted." What
adds to the jest is, that his emptiness has its moods
and seasons, and he will not condescend to let you
into these his discoveries, except he is in very good
huniour, or has seen somebody of fashion talk to
you. He will keep his nothing to himself, and
pass by and overlook as well as the best of them ;
not observing that he is insolent when he is gracious,
and obliging when he is haughty. Show me a
woman so inconsiderable as this, frequent cha-
racter.
But my mind, now I am in, turns to many no
less observable: Thou dear Will Shoe-string! I
profess myself in love with thee 1 how shall I speak
thee } how shall I address thee ? how shall I draw
thee ? thou dear Outside ! Will you be combing
your wig, playing with your box, or picking your
teeth ? or choosest thou rather to be speaking; to
be speaking for thy only purpose in speaking, to.
B 3
6 TATLER. N'' 38.
show your teeth ? Rub them no longer, dear Shoe-
string * : do not premeditate murder : do not for
ever whiten. Oh ! that for my quiet and his own
they were rotten !
But I will forget him, and give my hand to the
courteous Umbra. He is a fine man indeed, but
the soft creature bows below my apron-string, be-
fore he takes it; yet, after the first ceremonies, he
is as familiar as my physician, and his insignificancy
makes me half ready to complain to him of all I
\vould to my doctor. He is so courtc^ous, that he
carries half the messages of ladies ails in town to
their midwives and nurses. He understands too the
art of medicine as far as to the cure of a pimple, or
a rash. On occasions of the like importance, he
is the most assiduous of all men living, in consuhing
and searching prect^dents from family to family ;
then he speaks of his obsequiousness and diligence
in the style of real services. If you sneer at him,
and thank him for his great friendship, he bows,
and says, " Madam, all the good ofiices in my
power, while I have any knowledge or credit, shnii
be at your service." The consideration of so shal-
low a being, and the intent application with which
he pursues trifles, has made me carefully reflect
upon that sort of men we usually call an Imper-
tinent : and I am, upon mature deliberation, so far
from being offended with him, that I am really
obliged to him ; for though he will take you aside,
and talk half an hour to you upon matters wholly
insignificant with the most solemn air, yet I con-
sider, that these things are of weight in his imagi-
nation, and he thinks he is communicating what is
Sir William Whitlncke, knt. Memher for Oxon, Bencher
of th-^ Middle Temple: He is Che learneii kaigUt ntetuionciJii
Tat. NO 43.
tf" 38. TATLER. 7
for my service. If, therefore, it be a just rule, to
judge of a man by his intention, according to the
equity of good breeding, he that is impertinently
kind or wise, to do you service, ought in return to
have a proportionable place both in your affection
and esteem ; so that the courteous Umbra deserves
the favour of all his acquaintance 5 for though he
never served them, he is ever willing to do it, and
believes he does it.
As impotent kindness is to be returned with all
our abilities to oblige ; so impotent malice is to be
treated with all our force to depress it. For this
reason. Fly-blow (who is received in all the fa-
milies in town, through the degeneracy and iniquity
of their manners) is to be treated like a knave,
tliough he is one of the weakest of fools : he has by
rote, and at second-hand, all that can be said of
any man of figure, wit, and virtue, in town. Name
a man of worth, and this creature tells you the
worst passage of his life. Speak of a beautitul wo-
man, and this pnppy will whisper the next man to
him, though he has nothing to say of her. He is a
fly that feeds on the sore part, and would have no-
thing to live on if the whole body were in health.
You may know him by the frequency of pro-
nouncing the particle but ; for which reason I never
heard him spoke of with common chanty, without
using my L-id against him : for a friend of mine
saying the other day, " iVIrs. Distaff^ has wit, good-
humour, virtue, and friendship j" this oaf added,
" But she is not handsome." " Coxcomb ! the
gentleman, was saying what I was, not vliat I wa*
not."
St. James's Coffee-house, July 6.
The approaches before Tournay have been carried
on with great success; and our advices from the
8; TATLER. N" 38.
canip^ before that place of the eleventh instant say,
that they h;id already made a lodgment on ihc glacis.
Two hundred boats were come up the beheld with
the heavy arrillfr) and ammunition, which would
be en>ploye'd in dismounting the enemy's defences,
and raist'd on the batteries the fifteenth- A great
body of miners are summoned to the camp, to coun-
tirmine the wo. ks of the enemy. ^^'e are con-
vinced of the weakness of the garrison by a certain
account, that they called a council of war, to con-
sult whether it was not advisable to march into the
citadel, and leave the town defenceless. "We are
assured, that when the conteucrate army was ad-
vanciijg towards tlie camp of Marshal Villars, that
General dispatched a courier to his master -with a
letter, t^ivLng an account of their approach, which
concluded with the following words : " 1 he day
begins to break, and )our Majesty's army is already
in ordtr of" battle. BHore noon, I hope to have the
honour of congiatulating your Majesty on the suc-
cess of a great action ; and you shall be very well
satisfied with the Marshal Villars."
*^* Mrs. Distaff hath received the Dialogue
dated Monday Evening, which she has sentforward
to Mr. Bickerstafl'at Maidenhead : ar.d in Uie nitan
time gives her service to the parties.
It is to be noted, that when any j art of this Paper
sppcai^j dull, there is a design in it.
N' 39. TATLER.
N^39. SATURDAY, JULY 9, 1709.
tioJri at farrago llhelli.
JUV. Sat. I, 5, 86.
Whate'er men Jo, or say, or lliink, or dream,
Our moiley paper seizes tor iu ihemc. P.
By Isaac Bicklrstaff, Esquire.
Grecian Cojjxchousc, July '].
As I am called forth, bv tlie immense love I bear to
my fellow-creatures, and the warm inclination I
ftel within mc, to stem, as far as I can, tlie pre-
vailing torrent of vice and ignorance ; so I cannot
more properly pursue that noble impulse, than by
setting forth the excellence of virtue and knowledge
in their native and beautiful colours. For this rea-
son, I made my late excursion to Oxford, whci'c
those qualities appear in their highest lustre, and
are the only pretences to honour and distinction.
Superiority is there gi\cn in proportion to men's
advancement in wisdom and learnings and that just
rule of life is so universally received among those
happy people, that you shall see an Earl walk bare-
headed to the son of the meanest artificer, in respect
to seven years more worth and knowledge than the
nobleman is possessed of. In other places they bow
to men's fortunes, biit here to their understandings.
It is not to be expressed, how pleasing the order,
the discipline, tlie regularity of their lives, is to a
philosopher, who has, by many years experience iu
tlie world, learned to coiitenin ever)' thing but \yha^
to TATLER. N" 39.
is revered in this mansion of select and well taught
spirits. The niaL-initicence of their palaces, the
greatness of their revenues, the sweetness of their
groves and retirements, seem equally adapted for
the residence of princes and {)hilosophers ; and a
familiarity with objects of splcndiuir, as well as
places of recess, prepares the inhabitants with an
equanimity for their future fortunes, whether hum-
ble or illustrious. How was I pleased, when I
looked round at St. Mary's, and could, in the fare?
of the ingenious youth, see ministers of state, chan-
cellors, bishops, and judges. Here only is human
life ! Here only the life <jf man is ti)at of a rational
being ! Here men understand, and are employed
in works worthy their noble nature. This transi-
tory being passes away in an employment not un-
worthy a luture state, the contemplation of the
great decrees of I'rovidence. Each man lives as if
he were to answer the questions made to Job,
" Where wast tliou when I laid the foundations of
the earth ? Who shut up the sea with doors, at.d
said. Hitherto thou slialt come, and no farther ?"
Such speculations n)ake life agreeable, and death
welcome.
Ikit, alas ! I was torn from this noble society by
the business of this dirty mean world, and the cares
of fortune; for I was obliged to be in London
against the seventh day of the term, and accord-
ingly governed myself by my Oxford almanack *,
and came last night ; but tind, to my great .asto-
nishment, that this ignorant town began the term
* The liiimoiir of this paper is not peculi-.nly reftricted to tlie
Oxford ,Mm:iiiack. for the year 1709 ; i'- 15 equ.illy appl.caMe to
?iil tlie Oxford AliTi.iP.acks before (,r s-ire tlia^ peiioj, hfing
founded (Ml Hie dilTcreiicc hetwtcn (lie Univcsicy ttimf ;iiul the
l.:\w tirms, just as nhvioiis now as it was then; .^^ may b
setn, by com^'aring the Oitford with the LoiiJoi) Alai.iiiack..
N" Z9. TATLER. H
on the twenty-fourth of the last month, in opposi-
tion to all the learning and astronomy of the famous
University of which 1 have been speaking ; accord-
ing to which, the term certainly was to commence
on the first instant. You may be sure, a man, who
has turned his studies as I have, could not be mis-
taken in point of time 3 foi', knowing 1 was to
come to town in term, I examined the passing
moments very narrowly, and called an eminent
astronomer to my assistance. Upon very strict ob-
servation we found, th;it the cold has been so se-
rere this last winter (which is allowed to have a
benumbing quality), that it retarded the earth in
Tuoving round, from Christmas to this season, lull
even days and two seconds. TJy learned friend as-
sured me further, that the earth had lalely received
a shogg Irom a comet that crossed its vortex ; which,
if it had come ten degrees nearer to us, had made us
lose this whole term. 1 was indeed once of opi-
nion, that the Gregorian computation was the most
regular, as being eleven days before the Julian ; but
am now fully ctnuinced, that we ought to be seven
days after the chauceilor and judges, and eighteen
before the Pope of Home ; ai^.d that the Oxonian
courpuuition is the best of the three.
These are the re.isons which I have gathered
from philo.iophy and nature; to which I can add
other circumstances in vindication of tlie account of
this learned body who publish this almanack.
It is notorious to philosophers, that joy and grief
can hasten and delay time. Mr. Locke is of opi-
nion, that a man in great misery may so far lose
his measure, as to think a miniUe an hour ; or in
joy make an hour a minute. Let us examine the
jjresent case by this rule, and we shall rind, that
the cause of this general mistake in the British na-
tion, has been the great success of the last cam-
12 tATLER. K" 39*
paign, and the following hopes of peace. Stocks
ran so higli at the Exchange, that the citizens had
gained three days of the courtiers ; and we have,
indeed, been so happy all this reign, that, if the
University did not rectify our mistakes, we should
think ourselves but in the second year of her present
Majesty. It would be endless to enumerate the
many damages that have happened by this igno-
rance of the vulgar. All the recognizances wiihin
the diocese of Oxford have been forfeited, for n.ot
appearing on the first day of this fictitious term.
The University hns been nonsuited, in their action
against the booksellers for priming Clarendon in
quarto. Indeed, what gives me the most quick
concern, is the case of a poor gentleman, my friend,
who was the other day taken in execution by a set
of ignorant bailiffs. He should, it ?cems, have
pleaded in the first week of term ; but being a
Master of Arts of Oxford, he would not recede
from the Oxonian computation. He shewed ISIr.
Broad the almanack, and the very day when the
term began j but the merciless, ignorant felk)w,
against all sense and learning, would hurry him
away : he went indeed quietly enough j but he has
taken exact notes of the time of arrest, and suffi-
cient witnesses of his being carried into gaol ; and
has, by advice of the recorder of Oxford, brought
his action ; and we doubt not but we shall pay them
off with damages, and blemish the reputation of Mr.
Bread. We have one convincing proof, which all
that frequent the Courts of Justice are witnesses of:
the dog that comes constantly to Westminster on the
first day of the term, did not appear until the first
day according to the Oxford almanack ; wliose in-
stinct I take to be a better guide than men's erro-
neous opinions, which are usually biassed by inte-
rest. I judge in this case, as King Charles the Se-
N" 39. TATLER. IJ
cond victualled his navy, with the bread which one
of his dogs chose of several pieces thrown before
him, rather than trust to the asseverations of the
victuallers. Mr. Cowper *, and other learned
counsel, have already urged the authority of this
almanack, in behalf of their clients. We shall,
therefore, go on with all speed in our cause ; and
doubt not, but chancery will give at the end what
we lost in the beginning, by protracting the term
for us until Wednesday come seven-night. And
the University Orator shall for ever pray, ike.
From viy own ^[)artinent, July 31.
The subject of Duels has, I find, been started
with so good success, that it has been the frequent
subject of conversation among polite men ; and a
dialogue of that kind has been transmitted to me
Vfil-atim as follows. The persons concerned in it
are men of honour and experience in the manners
of men, and have fallen upon the truest foundation,
as well as searched the bottom of this evil.
Mr. Sage. If it were in my power, every man
that drew his sword, until in the service, or purely
to defend his life, person, or goods, from violence
{\ mean abstracted from all puncto's or whims of
honour), should ride the wooden horse in the Tilt-
yard for such first otfVnce ; for the second stand in
the pillory j and for the third be prisoner in Bedlam
for life.
Col. Plume. I remember, that a rencounter or
duel was so far from being in fashion among the
otficers that served in the parliament-army, that on
the contrary it was as disreputable, and as great an im-
* Spencer Cowpc, brother to tlie first Earl of the name, at
that tiiii- a cele rit-vi couuselljr, and af.erwards Cliief Justice
of r'u' Comniou PUias.
VOL, II. C
14 TATLER. N' 39.
pedimrnt to advancement in the service, as being
bashful in lime of action.
Sir Mark. Yet .1 have been informed by some
old cavaliers, of famous reputation for brave and
galhint men, that they were much more in mode
among their party than they have been during this
last war.
Col. Plume That is trae too. Sir.
JSIr. Sti^e. By what you say, gentlemen, one
should think that our present military officers are
compounded of an equal proportion of both those
tempers ; since duels arc neillier quite discoun-
tenanced, nor much in vogue. '
Sir Mark. That difference of temper in regard
to duels, which appears to have been between the
court and the parliament-men of the sword, was
not (I conceive) for want of courage in the latter,
nor of a liberal education, because there were some
of the best families in England engaged in that
party ; but gallantry and mode, which glitter agree-
ably to the imagination, were encouraged by the
court, as promoting its splendour ; and it was as na-
tural that the contrary parly (who were to recom-
mend themselves to the pr.blic for men of serious
and solid parts) should deviate from every thing
chimerical.
Mr. Sage. I have never read of a duel among
the Romans, andyet their nobility used more liberty
with their tongues than one may do now without
being challenged.
Sir Mark. Perhaps the Remans were of opinion,
that ill language and brutal manners reflected only
on those who were guilty of them ; and that a man's
reputation was not at all cleared by cutting the per-
son's throat who had reflected upon it : but the cus-
tom of those times had fixed the scandal in tlie
action ; whereas now it lies in the reproach.
JT 39. f ATLER.. 15
Mr. Sage. And yet tlie only sort of dncl that one
can conceive to have been fouglit upon uioiives
truly honourable and allov^'able, was that between
the Horatii and Curiatii.
Sir Mark, Colonel Plume, pray, what was th
method of single combat in your time among the
cavaliers ? I suppose, that as the use of cloaths con-
tinues, though the fashion of them has bfcn mu-
table ; SO duels, though still in use, have had in all
times their particular modes of performance.
Col. Plume. We had no constant rule, but ge-
nerally conducted our dispute and tilt according to
the last that had happened between persons of re-
putation among the very top fello-vs for bravery and
gallantr)'-
^'w Mark. If the fashion of quarrelling and lilt-
ing was so often changed in your time. Colonel
Plume, a man might tight, yet lose his credit for
want of understanding the fashion.
Col Plume. Why, Sir Mark, in the beginning
of July a man woukl have been censuied for want
of courage, or been thought indigent of the true"
notions of honour, if he had put up words, which,
in the end of Si^ptemi)er follov.-ing, one could not
resent without passing for a brutal and quarrelsome
fellow.
Sir Mark. But, Colonel, were duels or ren-
coutiters most in fashion in those days }
Col. Plume. Your men of nice honour. Sir, were
for avoiding all censure of advantage which they
supposed might be taken in a rencounter; therefore
they used seconds, who were to see that all \\':\%
U])on the square, ;ind mnke a faitht'ul report of the
wliole combat; but in a little time it became a
fashion for the seconds to li^at, and 1 will tell yua
how it happened.
c a
16 TATLER. X" 39.
Mr. Sage. Pray do, Colonel Plume, and the
niethud of a duel at that time, and give us some
notion of the puncto's upon which your nice men
quarrelled in those days.
Col. Pliiiiie. I was going to tell you, Mr. Sage,
that one Cornet Modish had desired his friend
Captain Smart's opinion in some atiair, but did n<it
follow it ; upon which Captain Smart sent Major
Adroit (a very tnpplii.<^ fellow of those times) to the
person that had slighted his advice. The Major
jitier enquired into tlie quarrel, because it was not
the mamiT then anic-ng the vrrv topping fellows ;
but got two swcrds of an equal length, and then
waited upon Cornet Modish, desiring him to choose
Ms sword, and meet his friend Cnj)tain Smart.
Cornet M(di.-,h came > ilh his friend to the place of
combat ; there the prinripals put on their pumps,
and stripped to their shirts, to show that they had
nothing hut what men of honour carry about tliem,
and then engaged.
i^ixMark. And did the seconds stand by, Sir?
Col. Flume. It was a received custom until that
time; hut the swords of those days being pretty
long, ?i.d the principals acting on both sides upon
the defensive, and the morning being frosty, Major
A:iroit desired thai the other second, who was also
a \v\y topping fellow, would try a thrust or two,
only to keep tliem warm, until the principals had
decidrd til" matter, \\hich was agreed to by Mo-
di hs second, who ])resently whipt Adroit through
the body, disarmed liim, and then parted the prin-
cipals, V. ho had received no harm at all.
Mr. S ><re. But was not Adroit laughed at .>
Col / li/vie. On the contrary, the very topping
fellows were ever alter of opinion, that no man,
whode-^erved that character, could serve as a second,
without fighting J and the Smarts and Modislies
vr 59. TATLER. 17
finding their account in it, the huniour took without
exposition.
Mr. Sage. Praj^, Colonel, how long- did that
fashion continue ?
Col. Plume. Not long neither, Mr. Sage ; for,
as soon as it became a fasliion, the very topping
fellows thought their honour reflected upon, if they
did not proffer themselves as seconds when any of
tlieir friends had a quarrel, so that sometimes there
were a dozen of a side.
Sir Mark. Bless me ! if tliat custom had con-
tinued, we should have been at a loss now for our
very pretty fellows ;, for they seem to be the proper
men to officer, animate, and keep up an army.
But, pray, Sir how did that sociable manner of
tilting grow out of mode ?
Col. Flume. Why, Sir, I will tell you : it was,
a law among the combatants, that the party which
happened to have the first man disarmed or killed,
should yield as vanquished : which some people
tliought n^ight encourage the Modishes and Smarts
in quarrelling to the destruction of only the very
topping fellows ; and as soon as this reflection was
started, the very topping fellows thought it an in-
cumbrance upon their honour to fight at all them-
selves. Since that time the Modishes and Smarts,
throughout all Europe, have extolled the French
king's edict.
Sir Mark. Our very pretty fellows, whom I take
to be the successors of the very topping fellows,
think a quarrel so little fashionable, tliat they will
not be exposed to it by any otlier man's vanity, or
Avant of sense.
Mr. Sage. But, Colonel, I have observed in,
your account of duels, that there was a great ex-
actness in avoiding all advantage that might poft-
sibly be between Uie combatants,
c 3
IS TATLFR. N' 39-
Col. Plume. That is true. Sir; for the weapons
were always equal.
Mr. Sage. Yes, Sir; but suppose an active
adroit strong man had insultt-d an aukward or a
feeble, or an unpractised sword's-man ?
Col. Plume. Then, Sir, they fought with pistols.
Mr. Sage. But, Sir, there might be a certaia
advantage that way ; for a good marksman will be
sure to hit his man at twenty yards distance ; aud a
man whose hand shakes (which is common to men
that debauch in pleasures, or hnve not xised pistols
out of their holsters) v/ill not venture to fire, un-
less he touches the person he shoots at. Now, Sir,
I am of opinion, that one can get no honour in
killing a man, if one has it all rug, as the gamesters
say, when they have a trick to make the game se-
cure, though they seem to play upon tlie square.
Sir Mark. In truth, Mr. Sage, I think such a
fact must be murder in a man's own private con-
science, whatever it may appear to the world.
Col. Plume. I have known some men so nice,
that they would not fight but upon a cloak with
pistols.
Mr Sage. I believe a custom well established
"would outdo the grand Monarch's edict.
Sir Mark. And bullies would then leave off their
long swords. But I do not find that a very pretty
fellow can stay to change his sword when he is in-
sulted by a bully w ith a long Diego : though his
own at the same time be no longer than a pen-
knife ; which will certainly be the case if such little
swords arc in mode. Pray, Colonel, how was it
between the hectors of your time, and the very
topping fellows ?
Col. Plume. Sir, long swords happened to be ge-
nerally worn in tliose times.
N'' 39. TATLER. 19
Mr. Sage. In answer to what you were snying.
Sir Mark, give me leave to inform you, that your
knights-errant (who were the very pretty fellows of
those antient times) thought they could not ho-
nourably yield, though they had fought their ov/ii
trusty weapoiis to the stumps ; but would ventiu'e
as boldly with the page's leaden sword, as if it had
been of inehanted metal. Whence, I conceive,
there must be a spice of romantic gallantry in the
composition of that very pretty fellow.
Sir I\Iarh. I am of opinion, Mr. Sage, that
fashion governs a very pretty fellow ; nature, or
common sense, your ordinary persons, and some-
times men of fine parts.
Mr. Sage. But what is the reason, that men of
the most excellent sense and morals, in other points,
associate their understandings with the very pretty
fellows in that chimsera of a Duel ?
Sir Mark. There is no disputing against so great
a mijority.
Mr. Sage. But there is one scruple, Colonel
Piunie, and I have done. Do not you believe there
may be some advantage even upon a cloak with
pistols, which a man of nice honour would scruple to
take ?
Col. Plume. Faith, I cannot tell, Sir ; but since
one may reasonably suppose that, in such a case,
there can be but one so far in the wrong as to oc-
casion matters to come to that extremity, I think
the chance of being killed should fall but on one;
whereas, by their close and desperate manner of
figiiting, it may very probably happen to both.
Sir Mark. Why, gentlemen, if they are men
of such nice honour, and must fight, there will be
no fear of ibul play, if they threw up cross or pile
who ihould be shot.
$0 TATLER. N' 40.
N* 40. TUESDAY, JULY 12, 1709.
^icquid agztnt horn i net
noiiri est farrago lihelli,
JUV. Sat, I. 85, 86,
Whnte'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our moilty ;>aper seizes for its tlieme. P.
Will's Coffee-house, July 11.
Lftters from the city of 1 ondon give an account
of a very great consternaticni that place is in at pre-
sent, by reason of a late enquiry made at Guild-
hall *, vvhethtr a noble person has parts enough to
deserve the enjoyment of the great estate of which
he is possesse>l ? The city is apprehensive, that this
precedent usay go further than was at first imagined.
1'he person against whom this inquisition is set up
by his relations, is a peer of a neighbouring king-
dom, and has in his youth made some few bulls,
by whieh it is insinuated, that he has forfeited his
goods and chattels. This is the more astonishing,
in that there are maiiy persons in the said city who
are >till more guilty than his lordship, and who,
though they are idiots, do not only possess, but have
also themselves acquired great estates, contrary to
the known laws of this realm, which vests their
possessions in the crown,
Ih.re is a gentleman in the coffee-house at this
time exhibiting a bill in chancery against his fa-
ther's younger bi other, who, by some strange ma-
gic, has arrived at the value of half a plum, as
* Richard, the fifth viscount Wenman.
W* 40. TATLER. 21
the citizens call an hundred thousand pounds; and
in all the time of growing up to that wealth, was
never known in any of his ordinary words or actions
to discover any proof of rea-son. Upon this foun-
dation my fric-nd has set forth, that he is illegally-
master of his cofters, and has writ two epi-grsnis to
signify his own pretensions and sufKciency for spend-
iaig that estate. He has inserted in his plea some
things which I fear will give offence ; for he pre-
tends to argue, that though a man has a little of the
Itnave mixed with the fool, he is nevertheless liable
to the loss of goods ^ and makes the abuse of reason
as just an avoidance of an estate as the total absence
of it. This is what can never pass ; but witty men
are so full of themselves, that there is no persuading
them ; and my friend will not be convinced, but
that upon quoting Solomon, who always used the
word fool as a term of the same signification with
unjust, and makes all deviation from goodness and
virtue to come under the notion of folly ; I say, he
doubts not, but by the force of this authority, let
his idiot uncle appear never so great a knave, he
sliaJl prove him a fool at the same time.
Ihis affnir led the company here into an exami-
nation of these points; and none coming here but
wits, what was asserted by a young lawyer, that a
lunatic is in tl>e care of the chancery, but a fool in
that o( the crown, was received with general indig-
nation. " Why that ?" says old Renault. " Why
that ? Why must a fool be a courtier more than a
madman ? This is the iniquity of this dull age. I
remember, the time when it went on the mad side ;
all your top-wits were scourc rs, rakes, roarers, and
tlemolishers of windows. I knew a mad lord, wha
was drunk tive years togetlicr, and was the envy of
that age, who is faintly imitated by the dull pre-
tenders to vice and madness in this. Had he Uv<e4
22 TATLER. N 49.
to this day, there had not been a fool in fashion in
the wiiole kingdom." When Renault had don
speaking, a very worthy man assumed the discourse:
' This is," said hC) " Mr. Bickerstaff, a proper ar-
gument for you to treat of in your article from this
place; and if you would send your Pacolet into all
our brains, you would find, that a little fibre or
valve, scarce discernible, makes the distinction be-
tween a politician ami an idiot. We should, there-
fore, throw a veil upon those unhappy instances of
human nature, who seem to breathe without the
direction of reason and understanding, as we should
avert our eyes witJi abhorrence from such as live in
perpetual abuse and contradiction to these noble fa-
culties. Shall this unfortunate man be divested of
his estate, bec:ause he is tractable and indolent, runs
in no man's debt, invades no man's bed, nor spends
tlie estate he owes his children and his character;
when one who shows no sense above him, but in
such practices, shall be esteemed in his senses, and
possibly may pretend to the guardianship of him
who is no ways his inferior, but in being le^is
wicked ? We see old age brings us indiiferently inta
the same impotence of soul, wherein nature has
placed this lord."
There is something very fantastical in the distri-
bution of civil power and capacity among miCn.
1'he law certainly gives these persons into the ward
and care of the crown, because that is best able to
protect them from injuries, and the impositions of
craft and knaveryj that the life of an idiot may not
ruin the intail of a noble house, and his weakness
may not frustrate the industry or capacity of the
founder of his tamily. But when one of bright
parts, as we say, v;ith his eyes open,, and all men's
eyes upon him, destroys those purposes, there is no
rtuucdy. Folly and ignorance arc punished ! loll/
ff 40. TATLJtRr. 25
and guilt are tolerated ! Mr. Locke has somewhere
made a distinction between a madman and a fool r
a fool is he that from right principles makes a wrong
conclusion ; but a madman is one who draws a just
inference from false principles. Thus the fool who
eat off the fellow's head that lay asleep, and hid it,
and then waited to see what he would say when he
awaked and missed his he^Kl-piece, was in the right
in the first thought, that a man would be surprized
to find such an alteration in tilings since he fell
asleep ; but he was a little mistaken to imagine he
could awake at all after his head M'as cut off. A
madman iancies himself a prince j but upcn liis
mistake, he acts suitably to that character j and
though he is out in supposing he has principalities,
while he drinks gruel, and lies in straw, yet you
shall see him keep the port of a distressed monarch
in all his words and actions. These two persons
are equally taken into custody : but what must be
done to half this good company, who every hour of
their life are knowingly and wittingly both fools and
madmen, and yet have capacities both of forming
principles, and drawing conclusions, with the full
use of reason ?
From my own Aparfmenf, July ii.
This evening some ladies came to visit my sister
Jennyj and the discourse, after very many frivolous
and public matters, turned upon the main point
among the women, the passion of love. Sappho,
who always leads on this occasion, began to show
her reading, and told us, that Sir John Suckling
and Milton had, upon a parallel occasion, said the
tenderest thing she ever read. " The circumstance,"
said she, " is such as gives us a notion of that pro-
tecting part, which is the duty of men in their ho-
nourable designs upon, or possession of women,
24 TATLER, N^ 40.
in Suckling's tragedy of Brennoralt he makes the
lover steal into his mistress's bedchamber, and draw
the curtains 5 then, when his heart is full of her
charms, as she lies sleeping, instead of being car-
ried away by the violence of his desires into thoughts
<t a warmer nature, sleep, which is the image of
death, gives this generous lover reflections of a dif-
ferent kind, which regard rather her safety than his
own passion. For, beholding her as she lies sleep-
kig, he utters these words :
" So misers look upon their gold,
" Which, while they joy to see, they fear to iofe i
** The pleasure of the sight scarce equalling
" The jealousy of being dispossessM by otl>ers.
" Her face is like t!>e milky way i'th' sky,
" A meeting of gentle lights without name 1"
*' Heav'n ! slialithis fresh ornament of the world,
** These precious love-liiies, pass with other common
" things
*' Amongst the wastes of time ? what pity 'twe-^e !
" When Milton makes Adam leaning on his arm,
beholding Eve, and lying in the contemplation of
her beauty, he describes the utmost tenderness and
guardian alfection in one word :
" Adam, with looks of cordinl love,
" Hung over her ciianioiu'il."
*' This is that sort of passion which truly deserves
the name of love, and has something more generons
than friendship itself 5 for it has a constant care of
the object beloved, abstracted from its own intei'ests
in the possession of it."
Sappho was proceeding on the subject, when my
sister produced a letter sent to her in the time of my
absence, in celebration of the marriage state, which
is the condition wherein only this sort of passion.
reigus iu full attthority. The epistle is as follows ;
N'^ 40. TATLER. 25
" Dear Madam, -
" Your brother being absent, I dare take the li-
berty^ of writing to you my thoughts of that state,
which our whole sex either is, or desires to be in.
You will easily guess I mean matrimony, which I
hrar so much decryed, that it was with no small
labovir I maintained my ground against two oppo-
nents 5 but, as your brother observed cf Socrates,
1 drew them into my conclusion, from their own
concessions ; thus :
" In marriage are two liappy tliitrr'; alltw' ',
" A wife in wedding shee's, and in a sliroiiil.
" Hi)w can a marriage-state tlun b arcari'J,
" Since the last day 's as liappy as the first ?
" If you think they were too easily confuted, you
may conclude them not of the first senre, by their
talking against marriage. Yours,
Mariana."
I observed Sappho began to redden at this epistle;
and turning to a lady, who was playing with a dog
she was so fond of as to carry him abroad with her j
" Nay," says she, " I cannot blame the men if they
have mean ideas of our souls and affections, and
wonder so many are brought to take us for compa-
nions for life, when they see our endearments so
triliingly placed : for, to my knowledge, Mr. Tru-
man would give half his estate for half tlie atfection
you have shown to that Shock : nor do I believe
you would be ashamed to confess, that I saw you
cry, when he had the colic last week with lapping
sour milk. What more could you do for your lover
himself?" ""What more!" replied the lady.
*' Tliere is not a man in England for whom I could
lament half so much." Then she stifled the animal
with kisses, and called liim beau, hfe, dear, monsieur,
VOL. II. D
26 TATLER, N" 41,
pretty fellow, and what not, in the hurry of her
impertinence. Sappho rose up ; as she always does
at any thing she observes done, which discovers in
her own sex a levity of mind, that renders them in,
considerable in the opinion of ours.
N^ 41. THURSDAY, JULY 14, 1709,
Celehrare domeslica facta.
To celebrate domestic deeds. N.
JVhites Chocolate-house, July I3.
There is no one thing more to be lamented In our
nation, than their general affectation of every thing
that is foreign ; nay, we carry it so far, that we are
more anxious for our own countrymen when they
have crossed the seas, than when we see them in the
same dangerous condition before our eyes at home :
else how is it possible, that on the twenty-ninth of
the last month, there should have been a battle
fought in our very streets of London, and nobody at
this end of the town have heai"d of it ? I protest, I,
who make it my business to enquire after adven-
tures, should never have known this, had not the
following account been sent me inclosed in a letter.
This, it seems, is the way of giving out orders ii>
the Artillery-company ; and they prepare for a day
of action with so little concern, as only to call it,
" An Exercise of Arms."
^''41. tATLER* 27
" An Exercise at Arms of the Artillery-rompany,
to be performed on Wednesday, June the twen-
ty-ninth, 1709, under the command of Sir
Joseph V,'oolfc, Knight and Alderman, Ge-
neral ; Charles Hopson, Esquire, present She-
riti", Lieutenant-general ; Captain Richard Synge,
Major 3 Major John Shorey, Captain of Grena-
diers ; Captain William Grayhurst, Captain
John Butler, Captain Robert Carellis, Captains.
The body marched from the Artillery-ground,
through Moorgate, Coleman-street, Lothbury, Broad-*
street. Finch-lane, Cornhill, Cheapside, St. Mar-
tin's, St. Anne's-lanc, hault the pikes under the
wall in Noble-street, draw up the firelocks facing
the Goldsmiths-hall, make ready and face to the
left, and fire, and so ditto three times. Beat to
arms, and march nmnd the hall, as up Lad-lane,
Gutter-lane, Honey-lane, and so wheel to the
right, and make your salute to my lord, and so
down St, Anne's-lane, up Aldersgate-strcet, Bar-
bican, and draw up in Red-tross-street, the right at
St. Paul's alley in the rear. March off Lieutenant-
general with hiilf the body ud Bceeh-lane : he sends
a sub-division up King's-head-court, and takes post
in it, and marches two divisions round into Red-
lion-market, to defend that pass, and succour the
division in King's-head-court 3 but keeps in White-
crdss-street, facing Beech-lane, the rest of the body
ready drawn up. Then the General marches up
Beech-lane, is attacked, but forces the division in
tlie court, into the maiket, and enters with three
divisions while he presses the Lientenant-generars
main body ; aivl at the same time tlie three divisions
fovce th.ose of (lie revolters out of the nuirket, aud
*-( all the Licuteiiant-generars body retreats into
Ch;s'.\ell-street, and lodges two divisions in Grub-
D 2
2S TATLER. N'4I.
Street ; and as the General marches on, they fall on
his flank, but soon made to give way : but having a
x'ctreating-place in Red-lion-conrt, but could not
hold it, being pat to flight through Paul's-alky,
nnd pursued by the General's grenadiers, while iie
marches up and attacks their main body, but are-
opposed again by a party of men as lay in Black -
raven-court ; but they are forced also to retire soon
in the utmost confusion, and at the same time,
those brave divisions in Paul's-alley ply their rear
with grenadocs, that with precipitation they take
to the route along Bunhill-row : so the General
marches into the Artillery-ground, and being drawn
up, finds the revolting party to have found en-
trance, and makes a show as if for a battle, and
both armies soon engage in form^ and fire by
platoons."
Much might be said for the improvement of this
system; which, for its style and invention, may
instruct Generals and their historians, both in figlit-
ing a battle, and describing it when it is over.
These elegant expressions, " ditto and so but
soon- but having but could not but are but
they finds the party to have found," &c. do cer-
tainly give great life and spirit to the relation.
Indeed, 1 am extremely concerned for the Lieu-
tenant-general, who, by his overthrow and defeat,
is made a deplorable instance of the fortune of war,
and vicissitudes of human aflairs. He, alas ! has
lost, in Beech- lane and Chiswell-street, all the glory
he lately gained in and about Holborn and St. Giles's.
The art of subdividing first, and dividing afterwards,
is new and surprising ; and according to this me-
thod, the troops are disposed in King's-head-court
and Red -lion-market : nor is the conduct of these
leaders less conspicuous in their choice of the
ground or field of battle. Happy was it, that the
N'= 41. TATLER. 29
greatest part of the atchievements of this day was
to be performed near Grub-street, that there might
not be wanting a sufficient number of faithful histo-
rians, who, being eye-witnesses of these wonders,
should impartially transmit them to posterity I But
then it can never be enough regretted, that we ares
left in the dark as to the name and title of that ex-
traordinary hero, who commanded the divisions in
Paul's alley 5 especially because those divi-.iops are
justly styled brave, and accordingly were to push the
enemy along Bunhill-row,. and thereby occasion a
general battle. But Pallas appeared in the form of
a shower of rain, and prevented the luigliter and
desolation which were threatened by these extraor-
dinary preparations.
Hi motui ati'morutn, at/jrtt hiCc cerfamfna tanta
I'ulnjerii exigui juctu cotnfreisa quicicuit,
ViRG. Georg. IV. 86.
" Yf t all '(lose dreadful deed?, this doiibtful fray,
*' A cast of scatter'*! dust will soon allay."
Drtden.
U'llls Coffee-house, July 13.
Some part of the company keep up the old way
of conversation in this place, which usually turned
upon the examination of nature, and an enquiry into
the manners of men. There is one in the room so
very judicious, that he manages impertinents witli
the utmost dexterity. It was diverting this evening
to hear a discourse between him and one of these
gentlemen. He told me, before ih !t person joined
us, that he was a question^ r, who according to his
description, is one who asks questions, not with a
design to receive information, but an affectation to
shj. his uneasiness for wail of it. He went on in
as-c' ting, that there are crowds of that modest ara-
3
30 TATLER. ^"41.
bitlon, as to aim no farther than to demonstrate that
they are in doubt. By tliis time Will Whynot was
sat down by us. " So, gentlemen," says he, " in
how many days, think you, shall we be masters of
Tournay ? Is the account of the action of the
Vivarois to be depended upon ? Could you have
imagined England bad so much money in it as you
see it has produced ? Pray, Sirs, what do you think ?
Will the duke of Savoy make an irruption into
France ? But," says he, " time will clear all these
mysteries." His answer to himself gave me the
altitude of his head, and to all his questions I thus
answered very satisfactorily. " Sir, have you heard
that this Slaughterford * never owned the fact for
which he died ? Have the news-papers mentioned
that matter ? But, pray, can you tell me what me-
thod will be taken to provide for these Palalines ?
But this, as you say, time will clear." "Ay, ay,"
says he, and whispers me, " they will never let us
into these things beforehand." I whispered him
again, *' We shall know it as soon as tliere is a pro-
clamation." He tells me in the other ear, " You
are in the right of it." Then he whispered my
friend, to know what my name was ; then made
an obliging bow, and went to examine another
table. This led my friend and me to weigh (his
-wandering manner in many other incidents, and he
took out of his pocket several little notes or tickets
to solicit for votes to employments : as, " Mr. John
Taplash having served all otfices, and being reduced
to great poverty, desires your vote for singing-clerk
of this parish. Another has had ten children, all
whom his wife has suckled herself j thereibre hum-
bly desires to be a school -master."
* A fellow hanged for the murder of his sweetlieart.
^41^ TATLER, 31
There is nothing so frequent as this wny of appli-
cation for offices. It is not that you are fit for the
place, but because the place would be convenient
for you, that you claim a merit to it. But com-
mend me to the great Kirlcus, who has lately set up
for midwifery, and to help child-birtii, for no other
reason, but that he i3 himself the " Unborn
Doctor." The way is, to hit upon something that
puts the vulgar upon the stare, or touches (heir com-
passion, winch is often the weakest part about us.
I know a good lady, a\ ho has taken her daughters
from their old dancing-master, to place them with
another, for no other reason, but because the new
jnan has broke his leg, which is so ill set, tliat he
can never dance more.
From viy own Aparlmevt, July 15.
As it Is a frequent mortification lo me to receive
letters, wherein people tell me, without a name,
they know I meant them in such and such a passage;
so that very accusation is an argument, that there
arc such beings in human life, as fall under our de-
scription, and that our discourse is not altogether
fantastical and groundless. But in this case I am
treated as I saw a boy was the other day, who gave,
out pocky bills : every plain fellow took it that passed
by, and went on his way without further notice ;
and at last came one with his nose a little abridged;
who knocks the lad down, with a " Why, you son
of a w e, do you think I am p d r" But 5hak-
speare has made the best apology for this way of
talking against the public errors : he makes Jacques,
in the play called " As you like it," express himself
thas :
" Why, who cries out on pride,
" That can therein tax any private paity ?
*' Wliat wo.iiaii ill tlie city do I naaie,
52 TATLER. N" 42.
" When that I siy, the city woman bears
" Tie cost of prioces on unworthy shouU'ers ?
" Who can come in and say tliat I mean her,
** When sucli a one as she, sucli is her neighbour ?-
*' Or, what is he of basest function,
*' Tliat says liis bravery is not on my cost ?
*' Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
" His folly to the mettle of my speech.
<' There tb.en ! How then ? Tlien let me see wlierein
" My tongue hath wrong'd him : If it do him right,
" 1 hen he haiii wrongM himself: If he be free,
" Why then my taxing like a wild goose flies,
'< Unclaim'J of any man."
N42. SATURDxVY, JULY 16, 1709.
Ceklrare dameilica facta,
" To celebrate domestic deeds." N.
From my own Apartment, July 15.
Looking over some old papers, I found a little
treatise, written by my great-grandfather, concern-
ing bribery, and thought his manner of treating that
subject not unworthy iv remark. He there has a
digression concerning a ( ossibility, that in some
circumstances a man may receive an injury, .and yet
be conscious to himself that he deserves it. There are
abundance of fine things said on the subject ; but
the whole wrapped up in so much jingle and pun,
which was the wit of those times, that it is scarce
intelligible ; but I thought the design was well
enough in the following sketch of an old gentle-
N" 42. TATLER. 33
man's poetry : for in this case, where two are rivals
for the same thhig, and propose to obtain it by
presents, lie that attempts the judge's honesty, by
niaking him offers of reward, ought not to complain
when he loses his cause by a better bidder. The
good old doggrel runs thus :
" A poor mnn once a judge besought
' To judge arifjlu liis cause,
" Anil with a pot of oil salutes
" This jiulger of tlie laws.
' My friend,' quoth he, < thy cause is good:'
" He glnd away did trudge;
" Anon his wealthy foe did come
*' Before this p;irtial judge.
' A hog well fetl this churl presents,
" Anil craves a strain of law ;
*' The hog receiv'd, the poor man's right
" Was juJg'd not worth a straw.
*' Therewiili he cry'd, ' O ! partial judge,
" Thy doom has me undone ;
" When oil f gave, my cavise was good,
" But now to ruin rusi.'
" Poor man,' quoth he, < f thee forgot,
" And see t' y c-use of foil ;
" A hog c;ime since into my house,
*' And broke thy pot of oil*."
Wills Coffee-house, July 15,
The discourse happened tliis evening to fall upon
characters drawn in Plays ; and a gentleman re-
marked, that there was no method in the world of
knowing the taste of an age, or period of time, so
good, as by the observations of the persons reprc-
gentcd in their comedies. There were several in-
* From George Whetstone's " English Mirror, &c." Lon
don, 1586, 4to,
34 TATLER. U' 4'2.
stances produced, as Ben Jonson's bringing in a
fellow snioaking, as a piece of foppery ; " but,"
said the gentleman who entertained us on this sub-
ject, " this matter is nowhere so observable as in
the difference of the characters of w omen on the
stage in the last age, and in this. Jt is not to be
supposed that it was a poverty of genius in Shak-
speare, that his women made so small a figure in
his dialogues j but it certainly is, that he drew
women as they then were in life : for lliat sex had
Hot in those days tliat freedom in conversation ; av.d
their characters were only, that they were mothers,
sisters, daughters, and wives. There were not
then among the ladies, shining wits, politicians,
virtuosce, free-thinkers, and disputants j nay, there
was then hardly such a creature even as a coquette :
but vanity had quile another turn, and the most
conspicuous woman at that time of day was only tlie
best housewife. Were it possible to bring into life
an assembly of matrons of that age, and introduce
the learned Lady Woodby into their company, they
would not believe the same nation could prcnluce a
creature so unlike any thing they ever saw in it.
" But these antients would be as much astonished to
see in the same age so illustrious a pattern to all who
love things praise-worthy as the divine Aspasia *.
Methinks, I now see her walking in her garden
like our first parent, with unaffected charms, before
beauty had spectators, and bearing celestial con-
scious virtue in her aspect. Her countenance is
the lively picture of her mind, which is the seat of
* The character of Aspasia was written hy Mr. Congreve ;
and t!ie per-^^on meant was La<'y Elizabeth Hastu^gs. See the
authority for tills, with an edifying account of tins extracrtli-
nary lady, and her benefactions, in a book in folio, inii iih!il,
" M'emorials and Characters, &c." London, i7-}ij printed
for Joliii Wiifoid, p. 7 So.
N" 42. TATLER. 35
Lonour, truth, compassiofi, knowledge, and inno-
cence.
" T. eie dwells the scorn of vice, an.l pity too."
Ill the midst of the most ample fortune, and vene-
jMtion of ail that behold and know her, without the
least atfcctation, slie consults retiieinent, the con-
templation of her own beiuff, ai>d that supreme
Power wiiich bestowed it. Without the learning of
BL'hools, or knowledge, of a long coarse of argu-
'meiits, she goes on in a steady course of unintei'-
rapted piety and virtue, and adds to the severity
and privacy of tiie h'st age all the freedom and ease
of this. Tlie language and mien of a court she is
possessed ot in the highest degree ; but the simpli-
city and humble thoughts of a cottage are her more
welcome entertainments. Aspasia is a female phi-
losopher, v.'lio does not only live up to the resigna-
tion of the most retired lives of the antient sages,
but also to the scheme's and plans which they thought
beautiful, thongli inimitai)le. This lady is the most
exai t (economist, without appearing busy; the most
strictly virtuous, without tasting the praise of it;
and shuns applause \\'ith as much industry, as others
do reproach. This character is so particular, that
it will very easily be fixed on her only, by all that
know her; but I dare say, she wiiJ be the last that
finds it out.
But, alas ! if we have one or two such ladles,
how many dozens are there like the restless P )lu-
glossa, who is acquainted with all the world but
herself; vvlio has the appearance of al', and pos-
session of no one viriue : she has, indeed, in her
practice the absence of vice, bufher disrour.-e is the
continual history of it ; and it is apparent, svhcn she
speaks of the criminal gratitications of others, that
he; inaoceuce is only a restraint, with a certaia
36 TATLER. 1^' 43.
mixture of envy. She is so perfectly opposite to the
character of Aspasia, that as vice is terrible to her
only as it is the object of reproach, so virtue
is agreeable only as it is attended with applause."
Si. James's Coffee-house, July 15.
It is now twelve of the dock at noon-, and no
mail come in j therefore, I am not without hopes
that the town vwU allow me the liberty which my
brother news-writers take, in giving them what
may be for their information in another kind, and
indulge me in doing an act of friendship, by pub-
lishing the following account of goods and move-
ables.
*^* This is to give notice, that a magnificent
palace, with great variety of gardens, statues, and
water-works, maybe bought cheap in Drury-lane }
where there are likewise several castles to be dis-
posed of, very delightfully situated ; as also groves,
woods, forests, fountains, and country-seats, with
very pleasant prospects on all sides of them : being
the moveables of Christopher Rich, Esquire, who is
breaking up house-keeping, and has many curious
pieces of furniture to dispose of, which may be seen
between the hours of six and ten in the evening.
The Inventory.
Spirits of right Nantz brandy, for lambent flames
and apparitions.
Three bottles and a half of lightning.
. One shower ot snow in the whitest French papen
Two showers of a browner sort.
A sea, consisting of a dozen large waves ; the
tenth bigger than ordinaiy, and a hitle daiuaged.
H" 4:2. tAtler. 37
A dozen and ahalf of clouds, trimmed witli black,
and well-conditioned.
A rainbow, a little faded.
A set of clouds after tiie French mode, streaked
with lightning, and furbelowed.
A new moon, something decayed.
A pint of the finest Spanish wash, being all that
is left of two hogsheads sent over last winter.
A coach very finely gilt, and little used, with a
pair of dragons, to be sold cheap.
A sdtting-sun, a pennyworth.
An imperial mantle, made for C}Tus the Great,
and worn by Julius Cssar, Bajazet, King Harry
the Eighth, and Sigiior Valentini.
A basket-Jiilted sword, very convenient to carry
niilk in.
Roxana's night-gown.
Othello's handkerchief.
The imperial robes of Xerxes, never worn but
once.
A wild boar killed by Mrs. Tofts and Dioclesian.
A sequent to sting Cleopatra.
A mustard-bowl to make thunder with.
Another of a bigger sort, by Mr. D s's *
directions, little used.
Six elbow-chairs, very expert in country-dances,
with six rlower-pots for their partners.
The whiskers of a Turkish Eassa.
The complexion of a murderer in a bandbox ;
consisting of a large piece of burnt cork, and a
coal-black peruke.
A suit of cloaths for a ghost, viz. a bloody shirt,
a doublet curiously pinked, and a coat with thresi
great eyelet-holes upon the breast.
A bale of red Spanish wool.
* John Dennis, the celcbr.'itcd criiic.
VOL. II. E
33 TATLER, K" 42,
Modern plots, commonly known by the name of
trap-doors, ladders of ropes, vizard-masques, and
tables with broad carpets over them.
Three oak-cudgels, with one of crab-tree 3 all
bought for the use of Mr. Pinkethman.
Materials for dancing; as masques, castanets,
and a ladder of ten rounds,
Aurengezebe's scymitar, made by Will. Browq
in Piccadilly.
A plume of feathers, never used but by Oedipus
and the Earl of Essex.
There are also swords, halbards, sheep-hooks,
cardinals hats, turbans, drums, gallipots, a gibbet,
a cradle, a rack, a cart-wheel, an altar, an helmet,
a back-piece, a breast-plate, a bell, a tub, and a
jointed baby.
These are the hard shifts we intelligencers are
forced to 3 therefore our readers ought to excuse us,
if a westerly wind, blowing for a fortnight together,
generally fills every paper with an order of battle ;
when we show our martial skill in every line, and
accordmg to the space we have to fill, we range our
men in squadrons and battalions, or draw out com-
pany by company, and troop by troop ; ever ob-
serving that no muster is to be made, but when the
wind is in a cross-point, which often happens at the
end of a campaign, when half the men are deserted
or killed. The Courant is sometimes ten deep, his
ranks close : the Post-boy is generally in files, for
greater exactness ; and the Post-man comes down
upon you rather after the Turkish way, sword in
liand, pell-mell, without form or discipline ; but
sure to bring men enough into the field ; and
wherever they are raised, never to lose a battle for
want of numbers.
il" 43fc tATLER. 99
iSf43. TUESDAY, JULY 19, 1709.
. ' - Bene nummatum dccorat Suadela Venusque,
The goddess of persuasion forms his train,
And Venus decks the well>bemoney'd swain.
HoR.
Francis.
tVhite^s Chocolate-house, July i8.
t wRiTte from hence at present to complain, that
wit and merit are so little encouraged by people of
rank and quality, that the wits of the age are
obliged to run within Tetnple-bar for patronage.
There is a deplorable instance of this kind ni the
case of Mr. D'Urfey, who has dedicated his inimi-
table comedy, called " The Modern Prophets," to
2. worthy knight, to whom, it seems, he had before
communicated liis plan, which was, " To ridicule
the ridiculers of our established doctrine." I have
elsewhere celebrated the contrivance of this excel-
lent drama ; but was not, until I read the dedi-
cation, wholly let into the religious design of it. I
am afraid, it has suffered discontinuance at this gay
end of the town, for no other reason but the piety
of the purpose. There is, however, in this epistle,
the true life of panegyrical performance ; and I do
not doubt but if the patron would part with it, I
can help him to others with good pretensions to it,
viz. of " uncommon understanding," who M'ill give
him as much as he gave for it. I know perfectly
well a noble person, whom these words (which are
tlie body of the panegyric) would lit to a hair.
2
40 TATLER, N^ 43,
* " Your easiness of humour, or rather your
harmonious disposition, is so admirably mixed with
your composure, that the rugged cares and distur-
bance that public affairs bring with it, which does
so vexatiously affect the heads of other great men of
business, &c. does scarce ever ruffle your un-
clouded brow so much as with a frown. And what
above all is praise-worthy, you are so far from think-
ing yourself better than others, that a flourishing
and opulent fortune, which, by a certain natural
corruption in its quality, seldom fails to infect other
possessors with pride, seems in this case as if only
providentially disposed to enlarge your humility.
" But, 1 find. Sir, I am now got into a very large
field, where though I could with great ease raise a
jiuniber of plants in relation to your merit of this
plauditory nature ; yet, for fear of an author's ge-
neral vice, and that the plain justice I have done
you should by my proceeding, and others mistaken
judgment, be imagined flattery, a thing the blunt-
jicss of ray nature does not care to be concerned
with, and which I also know you abominate."
It is wonderful to see how many judges of these
fine things spring up every day by the rise of stocks,
and other elegant methods of abridging the way to
learning and criticism. But I do hereby forbid all
dedications to any persons within the city of Lon-
don ; except Sir Francis f, Sir Stephen, and the
Bank, will take epigrams and epistles as value re-
ceived for their notes ; and the East India company-
accept of heroic poems for their sealed bondij,
* An extract from 0'Urf';y*s dedication.
|- Sir Francis a-x! Sir Stephen were evidently bankers of tlie
times ; and of ihose ihe two mo, t eminent were Sir Francis
Clnld and S r S epi'.tn Evance. The latter was ruined, it i;;
thought, in ;he Soth-sea year.
V' 43. TATLER. 41
Upon which bottom our publishers have full power
to treat with the city in behalf of us authors, to
enable traders to become patrons and fellows of the
Royal Society*, as well as to receive certain de-
grees of skill in the Latin and Greek tongues, ac-
cording to the quantity of the commodities which
they take off our hands.
Grecian Coffee-house, July i8.
The learned have so long laboured under the im-
putation of dryness and dulness in their accounts of
their ph:i nomena, that an ingenious gentleman of our
society has resolved to write a system of philosophy
jn a more lively method, both as to the matter and
language, than has been hitherto attempted. He
read to us the plan upon which he intends to pro-
ceed. I thought his account, by way of fable of
the worlds about us, had so much vivacity in it, that
I could not forbear transcribing his hypothesis, to
give the reader a taste of my friend's treatise, which
is now in thf^ press.
" The inferior deities, having designed on a day
to play a game at football, kneaded together a num-
berless collection of dancing atoms into the form
of seven rolling globes: and, that nature might be
kept from a dull inactivity, each separate particle is
endued with a principle of motion, or a power of
attraction, whereby all the several parcels of matter
draw each other proportion ably to their magnitudes
and distances into such a remarkable variety of dif-
ferent forms, as to produce all the wonderful ap-
* Mr. Whiflon, allinled to in the following part of this
pnper, was at tbi"; 'ime prt.posfd as a niemher of the Royal So-
ce'y, ,Tml itjecteil. Tl-.e pretctided account of his hypotliesis
th.it follows is mere p^essantry, ami not a quotaiioQ from his
book, or any true account of his " Theory."
E 3
42 TATLER. N= 43.
pearances we now observe in empire, philosophy,
and religion. But to proceed :
" At the beginning of the game, each of the globes,
being struck forward with a vast violence, ran out
of sight, and wandered in a straight line through the
infinite spaces. The nimble deities pursue, breath-
less almost, and spent in the eager chase ; each of
them caught hold of one, and stamped it with his
namej as, Satiu'n, Jupiter, Mars, and so of the
rest. To prevent this inconvenience for the future,
the seven are condemned to a precipitation, which
in our inferior stile we call gravity. Thus the tan-
gential and centripetal forces, by their counter-
struggle, make the celestial bodies describe an exact
ellipsis."
There will be added to this an appendix, in de-
fence of the first day of the term according to the
Oxford almanack, by a learned knight of this realm,
with an apology for the said knight's manner of
dress j proving, that his habit, according to this
hypothesis, is the true modern and fashionable j
and that buckles are not to be worn, by this system,
until the tenth of March in the year 17 14, which,
according to the computation of some of our greatest
divines, is to be the first year of the millennium ;
in which blessed age all habits will be reduced to a
primitive simplicity ; and whoever shall be found to
have persevered in a constancy of dress, in spite of
all the allurements of prophane and heathen habits,
shall be rewarded with a never-fading doublet of a
thousand years. All points in the system, which
are doubted, shall be attested by the knight's ex-
temporary oath, for the satisfaction of his readers.
Will's Coffee-house, July 18.
We were upon the heroic strain this evening; and
the question was, ** What is the true sublime ?"
N" 43. TATLER, 4S
Many very good discourses happened thereupon j
after which a gentleman at the table, who is, it
seems, writing on that subject, assumed the argu-
ment; and though he ran through many instances
of sublimity from the antient writers, said, " he
had hardly known an occasion wherein the true
greatness of soul, which animates a general in
action, is so well represented, with regard to the
person of whom it was spoken, and the time in
which it was writ, as in a few lines in a modern
poem. There is," continued he, " nothing so forced
and constrained, as what we frequently meet with
in tragedies ; to make a man under the weight of
great sorrow, or full of meditation upon what he is
soon to execute, cast about for a simile to what he
himself is, or the thing which he is going to act :
but there is nothing more proper and natural for a
poet, whose business is to describe, and who is
spectator of one in that circumstance, when his
mind is working upon a great image, and that the
ideas hurry upon his imagination I say, there is
nothing so natural, as for a poet to relieve and clear
himself from the burden of thought at that time,
by uttering his conception in simile and metaphor.
The highest act of the mind of man is to possess
itself with tranquillity in imminent danger, and to
have its thoughts so free, as to act at that time
without perplexity. The antient authors have com-
pared this sedate courage to a rock that remains
immoveable amidst the rage of winds and waves }
but that is too stupid and inanimate a similitude,
and could do no credit to the hero. At other timts
they are ail of them wonderfully obliged to a Libyan
lion, which may give indeed very agreeable terrors
to a description, but is no compliment to the person
to whom it is applied : eagles, tigers, and wolves,
are made use of on the same occasion, and veiy
44 TATLER. N' 43,
often with much beauty ; but this is still an honoiu^
done to the brute rather than the hero. Mars,
Pa 11 as, Bacchus^ and Hercules, have each of them
furnished very^ood similes in their time, and made,
doubtless, a greater impression on the mind of a
heathen, than they have on that of a modern reader,
But the sublime image that I am talking of, and
which I really think as great as ever entered into
the thonslu of man, is in the poem called " The
Campaign " ;" where the simile of a ministering an-
gel sets forth the most sedate and the most active
courage, engaged in an uproar of nature, a con-
fusion of elements, and a scene of divine vengeance.
Add to all, that these lines compliment the general
and his queen at the same time, and have all the
natural horrors heightened by the image tliat wa^
still fresh in the mind of every reader f :
" Tvvas til- n great Mirlbro's m g'lty soul was prov'd,
" Tliat, in I'.'e shock of charging hosts unmov'd,
* Aiiiiilst ci;i)fi!sion, horror, ^n-J ilespair,
" ExaiTJt 'li 11 th; liicx'ful serines of war;
*' In piiaceful t!i"Ug!i' .he f\>.-\>.\ of death s'.irvey'd,
" T- fainting sci i roii&s-.-nt the ti:"e'y :-.id,
" Insi>'.r il Tcpn'sM b:u?aliors to <;nr,nge,
*' Ani! taiK'lt t!ie Hoi'.htful bitile where to rage.
*' So w' fii an Angel, bv iliviiv- corr.nianJ,
" With rising lemnests fh .kef a guilty land,
** Svch .IS of l.-ite o'c! j;ale B. itni\nia p-ts",
' C lor' ini.! sfiicne In; drives the furiou- hl.ist;
*' \'\, ;il; s'd th' Almighty 's orders t<i ptrfarifl,
" R.d^^s in the; v. li'! U"- ind, and directs tlie s^ornn J."
The wh.-.le poriTi is so exquisitely noble and poetic,
that 1 think it an honour to our nation and language.
* Ry .^|.!d'So , puMisIied in t7''4.
+ Ti'. ii:'v r ailiu'es here to the terrible tempests which
liapfiened 111 Novemt^er 17^3, and iTwuie .'^ad havock. in Eng-
laiai, a d in sc er.Tl other places of Europe.
+ tsalm cxlvui. 8.
y
NO 43. TATLER. 45
The gentleman concluded his critique on this
work, by saying that " he esteemed it wholly new,
and a wonderful attempt to keep up the ordinary
ideas of a march of an army, just as .they happened,
in so warm and great a style, and yet be at once fa-
miliar and heroic. Such a performance is a chro-
nicle as well as a poem, and will preserve the me-
mory of our hero, when all the edifices and statues
erected to his honour are blended with common
dust."
Si. James's Coffee-house, July i8.
Letters from the Hague, of the twenty-third in-
stant, N. S. say, that the allies were so forward in
the siege of Tournay, that they were preparing for a
general assault, which, it was supposed, would be
made within a few days. Deserters from the town
gave an account, that the garrison were carrying
their ammunition and provisions into the citadel,
which occasioned a tumult among the inhabitants of
the town. The French army had laid bridges over
the Scarp, and made a motion as if they intended to
pass that river : but though they are joined by the
reinforcernent expected from Germany, it was not
believed they would make any attempt towards re-
lieving Tournay, JL^etters from Brabant say, there
has been a discovery made of a design to deliver up
Antwerp to the enemy. The States of Holland
have agreed to a general naturalization of ail Pro-
testants who shall fly into their dominions : to
which purpose a proclamation was to be issued
within a few days.
They write from France, that the great misery
and want under which that nation has so long la-
boured, has ended in a pestilence, which began to
ftppcar in Burgundy and Dauphinc. They add,
that in the town of Ma^qn, three hundred per^iQH^
4^ tATLilit* N 44i
had dieci In the space of ten days. Letters from
Lisle, of the twenty-fourth instant, advise, that
great numbers of deserters came daily into that city,
the most part of whom are dragoons. Letters from
France say, that the Loire having overflowed its
banks, hath laid the country under water for three
hundred miles together.
N44. THURSDAY, JULY 21, 1709*
* Nullii amor est medicabilis herhis. OviDi
* No herb, alas ! can cure the pangs of love.*'
Whites Chocolate-house, July ig,
Titis day, passing through Covent-garden, I At^as
stopped in the piazza by Pacolet, to observe what
he called the triumph of love and youth. I turned
to the object he pointed at, and there I saw a gay
gilt chariot, drawn by fresh prancing horses ; the
coachman with a new cockade, and the lacqueys
with insolence and plenty in their countenances. I
asked immediately, " What young heir or lovet
owned that glittering equipage ?" But my compa-
nion interrupted : " Do you not see there th6
mourning iEsculapius * ?" " The mourning ?" said
I. " Yes, Isaac," said Pacolet, " he is in deep
mourning, and is the languishing, hopeless lover of
the divine Hebe, the emblem of youth and beauty.
* This paper was written in ridicule of a love-affair which
befel Dr. Radcliffe, who was at this time about sixty.
N 44. TATLER. 4"f
The excellent and learned sage you behold in that
furniture is the strongest instance imaginable, that
love is the most powerful of all things.
" You are not so ignorant as to be a stranger to
the character of ^sculapius, as the patron and
most successful of all who profess the art of me-
dicine. But as most of his operations are owing to
a natural sagacity or impulse, he has very little
troubled himself with the doctrine of drugs, but has
always given nature more room to help herself, thau
any of her learned assistants ; and, consequently,
has done greater wonders than is in the power of
art to perform : for which reason he is half deified
by the people; and has ever been justly courted by
all the world, as if he were a seventh son,
" It happened, that the charming Hebe was re-
duced, by a long and violent fever, to the most ex-
treme danger of death ; and when all skill failed,
they sent for ^sculapius. The renowned artist
was touched with the deepest compassion to see the
faded charms and faint bloom of Hebe ; and had a
generous concern in beholding a struggle, not be-
tween life, but rather between youth and death.
All his skill and his passion tended to the recovery
of Hebe, beautiful even in sickness ; but, alas !
the unhappy physician knew not that in all his care
he was only sharpening darts for his own destruction.
In a word, his fortune was the same with that of
the statuary, who fell in love with the image of his
own making ; and the unfortunate ^sculapius is
become the patient of her whom he lately recovered.
Long before this disaster, iEsculapius was far gone
in the unnecessary and superfluous amusements of
old age, in increasing unwieldy stores, and pro-
viding, in the midst of an incapacity of enjoyment
of what he had, for a supply of more wants than
he had calls for in youth itself. But these low con-
48 " TATLER. 1^0 44.
sideratiohs are now no more, and love has taken
place of avarice, or rather is become an avarice of
another kind, which still urges him to pursue what
he does not want. But, behold the metamorphosis;
the anxious, mean cares of an usurer are turned
into the languishments and complaints of a lover."
" Behold," says the aged iEsculapius, " I submit ;
I own, great Love, thy empire : pity, Hebe, (he
fop which you have made. What have I to do with
gilding but on pills ? Yet, O fair ! for thee I sit
amidst a crowd of painted deities on my chariot,
buttoned in gold, clasped in gold, without having
any value for that beloved metal, but as it adorns
the person, and laces the hat, of thy dying lover.
I ask not to live, O Hebe ! give me but gentle
death : EtJSa aa, Eu6avac7i *, that is all 1 im-
plore."
When jEsculapius had finished his complaint,
Pacolet went on in deep morals on the incertainty of
riches, with this remarkable exclamation : " O
wealth ! how impotent art thou ! and how little
dost thou supply us with real happiness, when the
usurer himself can forget thee fcr the love of what
is as foreign to his felicity as thou art !"
JVill's Coffee-house, July 19.
The company here, who have all a delicate taste
for theatrical representations, had made a gathering
to purchase the moveables of the neighbouring play-
house, for the encouragement of one which is setting
up in the Hay-market. But the proceedings at the
auction, by which method the goods have been sold
this evening, have been so unfair, that this ge-
nei^ous design has been frustrated ; for the imperial
* A Greek wonl, that signifies " easy death," which was
the coninnon wish uf the Emperor Augustus.
U" 44. TATLER. 49
mantle made for Cyrus was missing, as also the
chariot and two dragons : but upon examination it
was found, that a gentleman of Hampsliire had
clandestinely bought them both, and is gone down
to his country seat ; and that on Saturda^^ last he
passed through Staines, attired in that robe, and
drawn by the said dragons, assisted by two only of
his own horses. This theatrical traveller has also
left orders with Mr. Hall * to send the faded rain-
bow to the scourer's, and when it comes home, to
dispatch it after him. At the same time Christopher
Richf, esquire, is invited to bringdown his setting-
sun himself, and be box-keeper to a theatre erected
by this gentleman near Southampton. Thus there
has been nothing but artitice in the management of
this affair ; for which reason I beg pardon of the
town, that I inserted the in\^entory in my paper;
and solemnly protest, I knew notliing of this artful
design of vending these rarities : but I meant only
the good of the world, in that, and all other tilings
which I divulge.
And now I am upon this subject, I must do my-
self justice in relation to an article in a former
paper J, wherein I made mention of a person who
keeps a puppet-show in the town of Bath ; I, was
tender of naming names, and only just hinted, that
he makes larger promises, when he invites people to
his dramatic representations, than he is able to per-
form : but I am credibly informed, that he makes a
* A noted auctioneer of those times.
f The patentee of Drurv-lane pl.iy-house, which was shut
up about tliis time by an order from the Lord Ciiamberlain.
X All the papers and pas'^ages aboui Pe-Ael, the pnppet-
sho'v-man, relate to tl.e controversy between H'ladly and
Oif pring B'arkall, bishop of Exeter, on which they were
intended i>s a banter; it is needless to say that the wit and
raillery is employed on the side of Hoadly,
VOL. U, f
J0 TATLER, N 44,
prophane, lewd jester, whom he calls Punch, speak
\o the dishonour of Isaac BickerstafF with great fa-
miliarity ; and, before all my learned friends in that
place, takes upon him to dispute my title to the ap-
pellation of esquire. I think I need not say much
to convince all tlie world, that this Mr. Powel, for
that is his name, is a pragmatical and vain person,
to pretend to argue with me on any subject, Mecum
ccrtasseferetur ; that is to say. It will be an honour
to him to have it said he contended with me : but I
would have him to know, that I can look beyond
his wires, and know very well tiie whole trick of his
art 5 and that it is only by these wires that the eye
of the spectator is cheated, and hindered from
seeing that there is a thread on one of Punch's
chops, which draws it up, and lets it fall at the dis-
cretion of the said Powel, who stands behind and
plays him, and makes him speak saucily of his
betters. He ! to pretend to make prologues against
me ! But a man never behaves himself with de-
cency in his own case ; therefore, I shall command
myself, and never trouble me further with this
little fellow, who is himself but a tall puppet, and
has not brains enough to make even wood speak as
it ought to do : and I, that have heard i\\t groaning
hoard, can despise all that his puppets shall be able
to speak as long as they live. But, Ex quovis ligno
non Jit Mercurius. " Every log of wood will not
make a Mercury." He has pretended to write to me
also from the Bath, and says he thought to have de-
ferred giving me an answer until he came to his
books ; but that my writings might do well with the
waters : which are pert expressions, that become a
school-boy better than one that is to teach others :
and when I have said a civil thing to him, he cries,
" Oh ! I thank you for that 1 am your humble
servant for that." Ah! Mr, Powel, these smart
jp 44. f At Lfek. St
civilities will never run dovsrn men of learning : 1
know well enough your design is to have all men
automata, like your puppets ; but tlie world is grown
too wise, and can look through these thin devices.
I know your design to make a reply to this : but be
sure you stick close to my words j for if you bring
me into discourses concerning the government of
your puppets, I must tell you, " I neither am, nor
have been, nor will be, at leisure to answer you,"
It is really a burning shame this man should be to-
lerated in abusing the world with such represen-
tations of things : but his parts decay, and he is not
much more alive than Partridge.
From my own Apartment, July 14.
I must beg pardon of my readers, that for this
time I have, I fear, huddled up my discourse, hav-
ing been very busy in helping an old friend of mine
out of town. He has a very good estate, and is a
man of wit ; but he has been three years absent
from town, and caimot bear a jest 5 for which rea-
son I have, with some pains, convinced him, that
he can no more live here than if he were a down-
right bankrupt. He was so fond of dear London,
that he began to fret, only inwardly; but being un-
able to laugh and be laughed at, I took a place in
the northern coach for him and his family ; and
hope he is got to-night safe from all sneerers in his
own parlour.
St. James s Coffee-house, July 20.
This morning we received by express the agree-
able news of the surrender of the town of Tournay
on the twenty-eighth instant, N. S. The place was
assaulted by the attacks of General Schuylemberg,
and that of General Lottum, at the same time.
The action at both those parts of the town was very
F 2
52 TATLER. N 45.
obstinate, and the allies lost a considerable number
in the beginning of the dispute ; but the fight was
continued with so great bravery, that the enemy,
observing our men to be masters of all the posts
which were necessary for a general attack, beat the
chamade, and hostages were received from the town,
and others sent from the besiegers, in order to come
to a formal capitulation for the surrender of the
place. We have also this day received advice, that
Sir John Leake, who lies off Dunkirk, had inter-
cepted several ships laden with corn from the
Baltic ; and that the Dutch privateers had fallen in
with others, and carried them into Holland. The
French letters advise, that the young son to the
Duke of Anjou lived but eight days.
W 45. SATURDAY, JULY 23, 1709.
Crtdo pudicitiam Saturw rcge iporatatH
In tern's .
JUV. Sat. vr. I.
* In Saturn's reign, at nature's early birth,
f There was that thing call'tl chaBtity on earth." ^
Dbyden.
Urates Chocolate-house, July 22.
The other day I took a walk a mile or two out of
town, and strr)lling wherever chance led me, I was
insensibly carrird into a by-road, along which was
^ very agreeable (juickset, of an extraordinary height^
K* 45. TATLER. ^3
which sun'oundcd a very delicioufs seat and garden.
From one angle of the hedge, I heard a voice cry,
" Sir, Sir !" This raised my curiosity, and I
heard the same voice say, but in a gentle tone,
" Come forward, come forward !" I did so, and
one through tin! hedge called me by my name, and
bid me go on to the left, and I should be admitted
to visit an old acquaintance in distre^is. The laws
t>f knight-errantry made me obey the summons with-
out hesitation ; and I was let in at the back-gate of
a lovely house by a maid-servant, who carried me
from room to room until I came into a gallery ; at
the end of which, I saw a fine lady, dressed in the
most sumptuous habit, as if she were going to a
ball, but with the most abject and disconsolate sor-
row in her face that I ever beheld. As I came near,
she burst into tears, and cried, " Sir, do not yon
know the unhappy Teraminta ?" I soon recollected
her whole person : " But," said I, " madam, the
simplicity of dress, In which I have ever seen you
at your good father's house, and the chearfulness of
countenance v/ith which you always appeared, are
so unlike the fashion and temper you are now in,
that I did not easily recover the memory of yoxi. .
Your habit was then decent and modest, your looks
serene and beautiful : whence then this unaccounta-
ble change ? Nothing can speak so deep a sorrow as
your present aspect ; [yet your dress is made for jol-
lity and revelling !" " It is," said she, " an un-
speakable pleasure to meet with one I know, and to
bewail myself to any that is not an utter stranger to
humanity.
" When your friend my father died, he left me to
a wide world, with no detcnce against the insults of
fortune ; but rather, a thousand snares to entrap
me in the dangers to which youth and innocence are
exposed, in an age wherein honour and virtue are
54 TATLER. K" 45.
become mere words, and used only as they serve to
betray those who understand them in their native
sense, and obey them as the guides and motives of
their being. The wickedest of all men living, the
abandoned Decius, who has no knowledge of any
good art or purpose of human life, but as it tends to
the satisfaction of his appetites, had opportunities
of frequently seeing and entertaining me at a house
where mixed company boarded, and where he placed
himself for the base intention which he has since
brought to pass. Decius saw enough in me to raise
his brutal desires, and my circumstances gave him
hopes of accomplishing them. But all the glittering
expectations he could lay before nie, joined by my
private terrors of poverty itself, could not for some
months prevail upon me j yet, however I hated his
intention, 1 still had a secret satisfaction in his
courtship, and always exposed myself to his solici-
tations. See here the bane of our sex ! Let the flat-
tery be never so apparent, the flatterer never so ill
thought of, his praises are still agreeable, and we
contribute to our own deceit, I was, therefore,
ever fond of all opportunities and pretences of being
in his company. In a word, I was at last ruined
by liim, and brought to this place, where I have
been ever since immured; and from the fatal day
after my fall from innocence, my worshipper became
my master and my tyrant.
" Thus you see me habited in the most gorgeous
manner, not in honour of me as a woman he loves,
but as this attire charms his own eye, and urges
him to repeat the gratification he takes in me, as the
servant of his brutish lusts and appetites. I know
not where to fly for redress ; but am here pining
away life in the solitude and severity of a nun, but
the conscience and guilt of an harlot. I live in this
lewd practice with a religious awe of my minister of
N' 45. TATLER. ^5
darkness, upbraided with the support I receive from
him, for the inestimable possession of youth, of in-
nocence, of honour, and of conscience. I see, Sir,
my discourse grows painful to you j all I beg of you
is, to paint it in so strong colours, as to let Decius
see I am discovered to be in his possession, that I
may be turned out of this detestable scene of regular
iniquity, and either think no more, or sin no more.
If your writings have the good effect of gaining my
enlargement, I promise you I will atone for this un-
happy step, by preferring an innocent laborious po-
verty, to all the guilty affluence the world can offer
me."
JVllVs Coffee-house, July 21.
To show that I do not bear an irreconcileable ha-
tred to my mortal enemy, Mr. Powel at Bath, I do his
function the honour to publish to the world, that
plays represented by puppets are permitted in our
tuiiversities, and that sort of drama is not wholly
thought unworthy the critique of learned heads j
but, as I have been conversant rather with the
greater ode, as I think the critics call it, I must be
so humble as to make a request to Mr. Powel, and
desire him to apply his thoughts to answering the
difficulties with which my kinsman, the author of
the following letter, seems to be embarrassed.
*' To my honoured kinsman, Isaac Bickerstaff,
Esquire.
From Mather Gourdon'sat Hedington, near Oxon, June 16.
" Dear Cousik,
" Had the family of the BeadlestafFs, whereof I,
though unworthy, am one, known of your being
lately at Oxon, we had in our own name, and in the
56 TATLER. N" 45.
Tiniversity's, as it is our office, made you a compli-
ment : but your short stay here robbed us of an op-
portunity of paying our due respects, and you of
receiving an ingenious entertainment, with which
Ave at present divert ourselves and strangers, A
puppet-show at this time supplies the want of an
act. And since the nymphs of this city are disap-
pointed of a luscious music-speech, and the country
ladies of hearing their sons or brothers speak verses j
yet the vocal machines, like them, by the help of a
prompter, say things as much to the benefit of the
audience, and almost as properly their own. The
licence of a Terra; Filius is refined to the well-bred
satire of Punchenello. Now, cousin Bickerstaff,
though Punch has neither a French night-cap, nor
long pockets, yet you must own him to be a pretty
fellow, a very pretty fellow : nay, since he seldom
leaves the company, without calling son of a whore,
demanding satisfaction, and duelling, he must be
owned a smart fellow, too. Yet, by some inde-
cencies towards the ladies, he seems to be of a third
character, distinct from any you have yet touched
upon. A young gentleman who sat next me (for I
had the curiosity of seeing this entertainment) in a
tufted gown, red stockings, and long wig (which I
pronounce to be tantamount to red heels, and a
dangling cane), was enraged when Punchenello
disturbed a soft love-scene with his ribaldry. You
would oblige us mightily by laying down some rules
for adjusting the extravagant behaviour of this AI-
manzor of the play, and by writing a treatise on this
fort of dramatic poetry, so much favoured, and so
little under; iood, by the learned world.
From its being conveyed in a cart, after the Thes-
pian manner, all the parts being recited by one per-
son, as the custom was before iEschylus, and from
the behaviour of Punch, as if he had won the goal.
N 45. TATLER. 57
you may possibly deduce its antiquity, and settle
the chronology, as well as some of our modern
criticks. In its natural transitions from mournful
to merry ; as from the hanging of a lover to dancing
upon the rope ; from the stalking of a gho>t to a
lady's presenting you with a jig, you may discover
such a decorum, as is not to be found elsewhere
than in our tragi-comedies. But I forget myself j it
is not for me to dictate : I thought fit, dear cousin,
to give you these hints, to show you, that the Beadle-
staifs do not walk before men of letters to no pur-
pose 3 and that though we do but hold up the train
of arts and sciences, yet, like other pages, we arc
now and then let into our ladies secrets. I am your
affectionate kinsman,
Benjamin Beadlestaff."
From my own Apartment , Jahj 22.
I am got hither safe, but never spent time with
so little satisfaction as this evening 3 for yen must
know, I was five hours with three merry, and two
honest fellows. The former sang catches 5 and the
latter even died with laughing at the noise they
made. "Well," says Tom Bellfrcy, " you scholars,
Mr. BickerstafF, are the worst company in the
world." " Ay," says his opposite, ' you are dull
to-night; prythee be merry." With that I huzzaed,
and took a jump cross the table, then came clever
upon my legs, and fell a-laughing. " Let TJr
Bickerstatf alone," says one of the honest fellows}
*' when lie is iii a good humour, he is as good com-
pany as any man in England." He had no sooner
.spoke, but I snatched his hat olT his head, and
clapped it upon my own, and burst out a-laughing
again 3 upon which wc all fell a-laughing for half
^n hour. One of the honest fellows got behind me
58 t ATLft. fj" IS.
in the intfcrirn, and hit me a sound skp On the back;
upon which he got the laugh out of my hands ; and
it was such a twang on my shoulders, that I confess
he was much merrier than I. I M^as half angry ; but
resolved to keep up the good-humour of the com-
pany 5 and after hollowing as loud as f could pos-
sibly, I drank off a bumper of claret, that made me
stare again. " Nay," says one of the honest fel-
lows, " Mi", Isaac is in the right, there is no con-
versation in this ; what signifies jumping, or hitting
one another on the back ? let us drink about," We
did so from seven of the clock until eleven ; and
now I am come hither, and, after the manner of
the wise Pythagoras, begin to reflect upon the pas-
sages of the day. I remember nothing but that I
am bruised to death ; and as it is my way to write
down all the good things I have heard in the last
conversation, to furnish my paper, I can from this
only tell you my sufferings and my bangs,
I named Pythagoras just now ; and I protest to
you, as he believed men after death entered into
other species, I am now and then tempted to think
other animals enter into men, and could name seve-
ral on two legs, that never discover any sentiments
above what is common with the species of a lower
kind ; as we see in these bodily wits with whom I
was to-night, whose parts consist in strength and
activity ; but their boisterous mirth gives me great
impatience for the return of such happiness as I en-
joyed in a conversalion last week. Among others
in that company we had Florio, who never inter-
rupted any man living when he was speaking j or
ever ceased to speak, but ethers lamented that he
had done. His discourse ever arises from the ful-
ness of the matter before him, and not from osten-
tation or triumph of his understanding; for though
he seldom delivers what he need fear being re-
H' 45, TATLER. 59
peated, he speaks without havhig that end in view j
and his forbearance of cahimny or bitterness is owing
rather to his good-nature than his discretion j for
which reason he is esteemed a gentleman perfectiy
quaUfied for conversation, in whom a general good-
will to mankind takes off the necessity of cautiori
and circumspection.
We had at the same time that evening the best
sort of companion that can be, a good-natured old
man. This person, in the company of young men,
meets with veneration for his benevolence ; and is
not only valued for the good qualities of which he is
master, but reaps an acceptance from the pardon he
gives to other men's faults : and the ingenuous sort
of men with whom he converses, have so just a re-
gard for him, that he rather is an example, than a
check, to their behaviour. For this reason, as Se--
necio nev-cr pretends to be a man of pleasure before
youth, so young men never set up for wisdom be-
fore Senecio ; so that you never meet, where he is,
those monsters of conversation, who are grave or
gay above their years. He never converses but with
followers of nature and good sense, where all that
is uttered is only the effect of a communicable tem-
per, and not of emulation to excel their compa-
nions ; all desire of superiority being a contradiction
to that spirit which makes a just conversation, the
very essence of which is mutual good- will. Hence
it is, that I take it for a rule, that the natural, and
not the acquired man, is the companion. Learning,
wit, gallantry, and good breeding, are all but sub-
ordinate qualities in society, and are of no value,
but as they arc subser\'ient to benevolence, and tend -
to a certain manner of being or appearing equal to
the rest of the company ; for conversation is com-
posed of an assembly of men, as they are men, and
not as they are distinguished by fortune : therefore
TATLER. - N" 46.
he who brings his quality with him into conver-
sation, should always pay the reckoning ; for he
came to receive homage, and not to meet his
friends. ^^But the din about my ears from the cla-
mour of the people I was with this evening, has
carried me beyond my intended purpose, which was
to explain upon the order of merry fellows ; but I
think I may pronounce of them, as I heard good
Senecio, with a spice of the wit of the last age,
say, viz. " That a merry fellow is the saddest fel-
low in the world."
N?46. TUESDAY, JULY 26, 1709.
Nofi bene conveniunt , nee in una sede morantur,
Majestas & amor.
Ovid. Met. II. SS.
" Love but ill agrees with kingly pride."
Whites Chocolate-house, July 25.
We see every day volumes written against that ty-
rant of human life called Love 3 and yet there is no
help found against his cruelties, or barrier against
the inroads he is pleased to make into the mind of
man. After this preface, you will expect I am
going to give particular instances of what I have as-'
serted. That expectation cannot be raised too high
for the novelty of the history, and manner of life,
of the emperor Aurengezebe, who has resided for
some years in the cities of London and Westminster,
with the air and mien indeed of his imperial qua-
Ko 46. TATI.ER. 61
I'lty, but the equipage and appointment only of a
private gentleman. This potentate, for a long series
of time, appeared from the hour of twelve until
that of two at a coftee-house near the Exchange,
and had a seat (though without a canopy) sacred to
himself, where he gave diurnal audiences concern-
ing commerce, politics, tare and tret, usury and
abatement, with all things necessary for helping the
distressed, who are willing to give one limb for the
better maintenance of the rest ; or such joyous
youths, whose philosophy is confined to the present
hour, and were desirous to cali in the revenue of the
next half-year to double the enjoyment of th's.
Long did this growing monarch employ himself
after this manner : and as alliances are necessary to
all great kingdoms, he took particularly the interests
of Lewis the XlVth into his care and px^otection.
AVhen all mankind were attacking that vmhappy^
monarch, and those who had neither valour nor wit
to oppose against him would be still showing their
impotent malice, by laying wagers in opposition to
his interests ; Aurengezebe ever took the part of his
contemporary, and laid immense treasures on his
side, in defence of his important magazine of
Toulon. Aurengezebe also had all this while a
constant Intelligence with India ; and his letters
were answered in jewels, which he soon made bril-
liant, and caused to be atiixed to his imperial
castor, which he alw^ays wears cocked in front, to
show his defiance ; with an heap of imperial snuff
in the middle of his ample visage, to show his sa-
gacity. The zealots for this little spot called Great
Eritain fell universally into this emperor's policies,
and paid homage to his superior genius, in forfeiting
their coffers to his treasury.
But wealth and wisdom are possessions too solemn
not to give weariness lo active minds, without the
VOL. II. u
62 TATLER. NO 46.
relief (in vacant hours) of wit and love, which are
the proper amusements of the powerful and tlie
wise. This emperor, therefore, with great regula-
rity, every day at five in the afternoon, leaves his
money-changers, his publicans, and little hoarders
of wealth, to their low pursuits, and ascends his
chariot, to drive to Will's ; where the taste is re-
fined, and a relish given to men's possessions, by a
polite skill in gratifying their passions and appetites.
There it is that the emperor has learned to live and
to love, and not, like a raiser, to gaze only on his
ingots or his treasures ; but, with a nobler satis-
faction, to lii^e the admiration of others, for his
splendour and happiness in being master of them.
But a prince is no more to be his own caterer in his
love, than in his food; therefore Aurengezebe has
ever In waiting two purveyors for his dishes, and his
wenches for his retired hours, by whom the scene
of his diversion is prepared in the following man-
ner :
There is near Covent-garden a street known by
the name of Drury, which, before the days of
Christianity, was purchased by the queen of Paphos,
and is the only part of Great Britain wliere the te-
ntire of vassalage is still in being. All that long
course of building is under particular districts or la-
dyships, after the manner of lordships in other parts,
over which matrons of known abihties preside, and
have, for the support of their age and infirmities,
certain taxes paid out of the rewards of the amorous
labours of the young. This seraglio of Great Bri-
tain is disposed into convenient alleys and apart-
ments, and every house, from the cellar to the
garret, inhabited by nymphs of different orders,
that persons of every rank may be accommodated
with an immediate consort, to allay their flames,
and partake of their cares. Here it is that, when
N^ 46. TATLER. 63
Anrengezebe tlnnks fit to give a loose to dalliance,
the purveyors prepare the entertainment ; and what
makes it more august is, that every person con-
cerned in the interlude has his set part, and the
prince sends beforehand word what he designs to
sa)-, and directs also the very answer which shall be
made to him.
Ir has been before hinted, that this emperor has a
continual commerce with India ; and it is to be
noted, that the largest stone that rich earth has pro-
duced is in our Aurengezebe's possession.
But all things are now disposed for his reception.
At his entrance into the seraglio, a servant delivers
him his beaver of state and love, on which is fixed
this ineslimablc jewel as his diadem. When he is
seated, the purveyors, Pandarus and Nuncio,
marching on each side of the matron of the house,
introduce her into his presence. In the midst of the
room, they bow all together to the diadem. "When
the matron
" Whoever thou art, as thy awful aspect speaks
thee a man of power, be propitious to this mansion
of love, and let not the severity of thy wisdom dis-
dain, that by the representation of naked innocence,
or pastoral figures, we revive in thee the memory at
least of that power of Venus, to which all the wise
and the brave are some part of their lives, devoted."
Aurengezebe consents by a nod, and they go out
backward.
After this, an unhappy nymph, who is to be sup-
posed just escaped trora the hands of a ravisher,
with her tresses dishevelled, runs into the room
with a dagger in her hand, and falls before the em-
peror.
" Pity, oh ! pity, whoever thou art, an unhappy
virgin, whom one of thy train has robbed of her
innocence j her innocence, which was all her
G %
64 TATLER. N'^ 46,
portion Or rather, let me die like the memo-
rable Lucretia." Upon which she stabs herself.
The body is immediately examined afrer the man-
ner of our coroners. Lncretia recovers by a cnp of
right Nantz ; and the matron, who is her next re-
lation, stops all process at law.
This unhappy affair is no sooner over, but a naked
mad woman breaks into the room, calls for her
duke, her lord, her emperor. As soon as she spies
Aurengezebe, the object of all her fury and love,
she calls for petticoats, is ready to sink with shame,
and is dressed in all haste in new attire at his charge.
This unexpected accident of the mad woman makes
Aurengezebe curious to know, whether others who
are in their senses can guess at his quality, For
which reason, the whole convent is examined one
by one. The matron marches in with a tawdry
country girl "Pray, Winifred," says she, "who
do you think that fine man with those jewels and
pearls is .'" " I believe," says Winifred, " it is our
landlord It must be the esquire himself." The
emperor laughs at her simplicity " Go, fool," says
the matron : then turning to the emperor" ^ our
greatness will pardon her ignorance!" After her,
several others of different characters are instructed
to mistake who he is, in the same manner : then
the whole sisterhood are called together, and the
emperor rises, and cocking his hat, declares, he is
the Great Mogul, and they his conpnbines. A ge-
neral murmur goes through the whole assembly :
and Aurengezebe, certifying that he keeps them for
state rather than use, tells them, t'ley are peruiitted
to receive all men into their jjpartments ; then ])ro-
ceeds through the crowd, among whom he tlirows
medals shaped like half-crownii^ and reLurns (o his
fliariot.
N'' 46. TATLER. 65
This being all that passed the last day in which
Aurengezebe visited the women's apartments, I
consulted Pacolet concerning the foundation of such
strange amusements in old age : to which he an-
swered, " You may remember, when J gave you
an account of my good fortune in being drowned on
the thirtieth day of my human life, I told you of
the disasters I should otherwise have met with be-
fore I arrived at the end of my stamen, which was
sixty years. I may now add an observation to you,
that all who exceed that period, except the latter
part of it is spent ia the exercise of virtue and con-
templation of futurity, must necessarily fall into an
indecent old age ; because, with regard to all the
eniorments of the years of vigour aixl m.inliood,
cJiiklhood returns upon them: and as infants ride
on sticks, build houses in dirt, and make ships in
gutters, by a faint idea of things they are to act
hereafter; so old men play the lovers, potentates,
rmd emperors, from the decaying image of the more
perfect performances of their stronger years : there-
fore, be sure to insert yl^sculapias and Aurengezebe
in your next bill of mortality of the metaphorically
defunct."
TVills Cqffec-housc , July 24,
As soon as I came hither this evening, no less
than ten people produced the following poem, which
they all reported was sent to each. of them by the
penny-post from an unknown hand. All the battle-
writers in the room were in debate, who could be
the author of a piece so martially written 5 and
every body applauded the adth^ess and skill of the
author, in calHng it a postscript : it being the nature
of a postscript to contain something very m;it;"rial
which was forgotten, or not clearly expressed in the
ktier itself. Thus the verses being occasioned by a
G 3
6 TATLER. N"" 46.
march without beat of drum, and tliat circumstance
being no ways taken notice of in any of the stanzas,
the author calls it a postscript ; not that it is a post-
script, but figuratively, because it wants a post-
script. Common writers, when what they mean is
not expressed in the book itself, supply it by a pre-
face j but a postscript seems to me the more just
way of apologyj because otherwise a man makes an
excuse before the offence is committed. All the
heroic poets were guessed at for its author ; but
though we could not find out his name, yet one
repeated a couplet in Hudibras, which spoke his
qualifications :
" I'th' midst of all this warlike rabble,
" Crowdeiomarch'd, expert and able."
The poem is admirably suited to the occasion :
for to write without discovering your meaning,
bears a just resemblance to marching without beat
of drum.
** On the march to Tournay without beat of drum,
'* The Brussels Postscript.
" Could I with plainest words express
" Tliat great man's wonderful address,
*' His peneiration, and his tow'ring thought ;
" It would the gazing world surprise,
** To see one man at all times wise,
* To view the wonders he with ease has wrought.
" Refining schemes approach his mind,
' Like breezes of a southern wind,
* To temperate a sultry glorious day ;
" Wl.o?e fannings, with an useful pride,
*' Its mighty heat do softly guide,
Anil, having clear'd the air, glide silently away,
" Thus his immensity of thought
Is deeply form'd, and gently wrought,
N^ 46. TATLER. 67
" His temper always softening life's disease j
" Tliat Fortune, when she does intend
" To rndely frown, she turns hi^ friend,
** Admires his judgment, and applauds his ease.
" His great address in this design
" Does now, and will for ever slime,
. ** And wants a Wailer but to do him right 3
" The whole amufemei\t was so ftrong,
" Like fate he doom'd them to be wrung,
" And Tournay 's took by a peculiar flight.
" Thus, Madam, all mankind beiiold
** Your vast ascendant, not by gold,
*' But by your wisdom and your pious life ;
'* Your aim no more, than to destroy
" That which dots Europe's ease annoy,
*' And supersede a reign of shame and strife."
St. James's Coffee-house, July 24.
My brethren of the quill, the ingenious society
of news-writers, having with great spirit and ele-
gance already informed the world, that the town of
Tournay capitulated on the twenty-eighth instant 5
there is nothing left for me to say, but to congra-
late the good company here, that we have reason t.o
hope for an opportunity of thanking Mr. Withers
next winter in this place, for the service he has
done his country. No man deserves better of his
friends than that gentleman, whose distinguishing
character it is, that he gives his orders with the fa-
miliarity, and enjoys his fortune with the generosity,
of a fellow-soldier. His grace the duke of Argyle
had also an eminent part in the reduction of this
important place. That illustrious youth discovers
the peculiar turn of spirit and greatness of soul,
which only make men of high birth and quality use-
ful to their country ; and considers nobility as an
imaginary distinction, unless accompanied with the
practice of those generous virtues by which it ought
68 TATLER. K-^ 47.
to be obtained. But, that onr military glory is ar-
rived at its present height, and that men of all ranks
so passionately affect their share in it, is certainly
owing to the merit and conduct of our glorious ge-
neral : for as the great secret in chymistry, though
not in nature, has occasioned many useful disco-
veries ; and the fantastic notion of being wholly
disinterested in friendship has made men do a thou-
sand generous actions above themselves ; so, though
the present grandeur and fame of the duke of
Marlborough is a station of glory to which no one
hopes to arrive, yet all carry their actions to an
higher pitch, by having that great example laid be-
fore them.
N'^ 47. THURSDAY, JULY 28, 1709.
^icquid agunt homines
noitri est fur r ago libelH.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Whiite'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Oui motley paper seizes for its theme. P.
JVhites Chocolate-house, July 29.
My friend Sir Thomas has communicated to me
his letters from Epsom of the twenty-fifth instant,
which give, in general, a very good account of the
present posture of affairs in that place; but that the
tranquillity and correspondence of the company
begins to be interrupted by the arrival of Sir
N" 41. TATLER. 69
TalFety Trlppet *, a fortune-hunter^ whose follies
are too gross to give diversion ; and whose vanity is
too stupid to let him be sensible that he is a public
offence. If people will indulge a splenetic humour,
it is impossible to be at ease, when such creatures as
are the scandal of our species set up for gallantry
and adveutares. It will be much more easy, there-
fore, to laugh Sir Taffety into reason, than convert
him from his foppery by any serious contempt. I
knew a gentleman that made it a maxim to open his
doors, and ever run into the way of bullies, to avoid
their insolence* The rule will hold as well with
coxcombs : they are never mortified, but when they
see you receive and despise them ; otherwise they
rest assured, that it is your ignorance makes them
oat of your good graces ; or, that it is only want of
admittance prevents their being amiable where they
are shunned and avoided. But Sir Taffety is a fop
of so sanguine a complexion, that I fear it will be
very hard for the fair-one he at present pursues to
get rid of the chace, without being so tired, as, for
her own ease, to fall into the mouth of the mongrel
she runs from. But the history of Sir Taffety is as
pleasant as his character.
It happened that, when he first set up for a
fortune-hunter, he chose Tunbridge for the scene of
action, where were at that time two sisters upon
the same design. The knight believed of course
the elder must be the better prize ; and consequently
makes all his sail that way. People that want sense
do always in an egregious manner want modesty,
wiiich made our hero triumph in making his amour
as public as was possible. The adored Jady was no
* Henry Cromwe!!, E'^q. who ilied in 1728, was tlie ori-
g ml of the chaiactei here ilelineaied under the name of Sjr
J.'iKiy Frippct.
70 TATLER. N" 47.
less vain of his public addresses. An attorney with
one cause is not half so restless as a woman with one
lover. Wherever they met, they talked to each
other aloud, chose each other partner at balls, sa-
luted at the most conspicuous parts of the service of
the church, and practised, in honour of each other,
all the remarkable particularities which are usual for
persons who admire one another, and are contempti-
ble to the rest of the world. These two lovers
seemed as much made for each other as Adam iu:d
Eve, and all pronounced it a match of nature's own
making; but the night before the nuptials, so uni-
versally approved, the younger sister, envious of the
good fortune even of her sister, who had been pre-
sent at most of their interviews, and had an equal
taste for the charms of a fop, as there are a set of
women made for that order of men ; the younger,
I say, unable to see so rich a prize pass by her, dis-
covered to Sir Taffety, that a coquet air, much
tongue, and three suits, was all the portion of his
mistress. His love vanished that moment, himself
and equipage the next morning. It is uncertain
where the lover has been ever since engaged ; but
certain it is, he has not appeared in his character as
a follower of love and fortune until he arrived at
Epsom, where there is at present a young lady of
youth, beauty, and fortune, who has alarml:d all
the vain and the impertinent to infest that quarter.
At the head of this assembly. Sir Taffety shines in
the brightest manner, with all the accomplishments
which usually ensnare the heart of a woman ; with
this particular merit, v/hich often is of great ser-
vice, that he is laughed at for her sake. The
friends of the fair-one are in much pain for the suf-
ferings she goes through from the ])er.sevcrance of
this hero ; but they may be much more so from the
danger of his succeeding, toward wliich they give a
N 47. TATLER. 71
helping hand, if they dissuade her with bitterness;
for there is a fantastical generosity in the sex to ap-
prove creatures of the least merit imaginable, when
they see the imperfections of their admirers are be-
come marks of derision for their sakes ; and there is
nothing so frequent, as that he, who was con-
temptible to a woman in her own judgment, has
won her by being too violently opposed by others.
Grecian Coffee-house, July 37.
In the several capacities I bear, of astrologer, ci-
vilian, and physician, I have with great application
studied the public emolument: to this end serve all
my lucubrations, speculations, and whatever otlier
labours I undertake, whether nocturnal or diui'nal.
On tills motive am I induced to publish a never-
failing medicine for the spleen : my experience in
this distemper came from a very remarkable cure on
my ever worthy friend Tom Spindle, who, through
excessive gaiety, had exhausted that natural stock
of wit and spirits he had long been blessed with : he
was sunk and flattened to the lowest degree imagi-
nable, sitting whole hours over the " Book of
Martyrs" and " Pilgrim's Progress ;" his other con-
templations never rising higher than the colour of
his urine, or the regularity of his pulse. In this
condition I found him, accompanied by the learned
Dr. Di-achm, and a good old nurse. Drachm had
prescribed magazines of herbs, and mines of steel.
1 soon discovered the malady, and descanted on the
nature of it, until 1 convinced both the patient and
his nurse, that the spleen is not to be cured by me-
dicine, but by poetry. Apollo, the author of phy-
sic, shone with diffusive rays, the best of poets as
well as of physicians 5 and it is in this double ca-
pacny that I have made my way; and have found
swc^t, easy, flowing numbers are oft superior to
12 TATLER. N^- 47,
our noblest medicines. When the spirits are low,
and nature sunk, the muse, with sprightly and har-
monious notes, gives an unexpected turn with a
grain of poetry ; which I prepare without the use of
mercury. I have done wonders in this kind ; for
the spleen is like the Tarantula, the errects of whose
malignant poison are to be prevented by no other
remedy but the charms of music : for you are to
understand, that as some noxious animals carry an-
tidotes for their own poisons, so there is something
equally unaccountable in poetry ; for though it is
sometimes a disease, it is to be cured only by itself.
Now I, knowing Tom Spindle's constitution, and
that he is not only a pretty gentleman, but also a
pretty poet, found the true cause of his distemper
was a violent grief, that moved his affections too
strongly : for during the late treaty of peace, he
had writ a most excellent poem on that subject 3 and
when he wanted but two lines in the last stanza for
finishing the whole piece, there comes news that the
French tyrant would not sign. Spindle in a few
days took his bed, and had lain there still, had not
I been sent for. I immediately told him, there was
-great probability the French would now sue to us for
''peace. T saw immediately a new life in his eyesj
and I knew that nothing could help him forward so
well, as hearing verses which he would believe
worse than his own. I read him, therefore, the
Brussels Postscript : after M'hich I recited some
heroic lines of my own, which operated so strongly
on the tympanum of his ear, that 1 doubt not but I
have kept out all other sounds for a fortnight 3 and
have reason to hope, we shall see him abroad the
day before his poem.
This, you see, is a particular secret I have found
out, vi%. that you are not to choose your physician
for his knowledge in your distemper, but for having
N" 41. TATLER. *li
it himself. Therefore, I am at hand or all ma-
ladies arising from poetical vapours, beyond which
I never pretend. For being called the other day to
one in love, I took indeed their three guineas, and
gave them my advice, which was to send for is-
culapius *. iEsculapins, as soon as he saw the
patient, cries out, " It is love ! it is love ! Oh ! the
unequal pulse ! These are the symptoms a lover
feels 5 such sighs, such pangs, attend the uneasy
mind J nor can our art, or all our boasted skill,
avail. Yet, O fair ! for thee" Thus the sage ran
on, and owned the passion which he pitied, as well
as that he felt a greater pain than ever he cured :
after which he concluded, " All I can advise, is
marriage : charms and beauty will give new life and
vigour, and turn the course of nature to its better
prospect. " This is the new way ; and thus -^scu-
iapius has left his beloved powders, and writes a
recipe for a wife at sixty. In short, my friend fol-
lowed the prescription, and married youth and
beauty in its perfect bloom.
" Supine in Silvia's snowy arms he lieS)
" And ;i!l the busy cares of life defies :
" Encli hapjiy hoiii is fiii'd with fr; s'l delight,
" While peace the ilay, and pleasure crowns the n'gbt."
From my oiun Apartment, July 27.
Tragical passion was the subject of the discourse
where I last visited this evening: and a gentleman
who knows that I am at present writing a very deep
tragedy, directed his discourse in a particular mani-
ner to me, " It is the common fault," said he,
" of you gentlemen who write in the buskin st)^.,
that you give us rather the sentiments of such who
^ * Dr. Radcliffe.
VOL. II. ' H
.74 TATLER. N 47.
behold tragical events, than of such who bear a part
in them themselves. I would advise all who pre-
tend this way, to read Shakspeare with care j and
they will soon be deterred from putting forth what
is usually called tragedy. The way of common
writers in this kind is rather the description than
the expression of sorrow. There is no medium in
these attempts, and you must go to the very bcjttom
of the heart, or it is all mere language j and the
writer of such lines is no more a poet, than a man
is a physician for knowing the names of distempers,
without the causes of them. Men of sense are pro-
fessed enemies to all such empty labours : for he
who pretends to be sorrowful, and is not, is a wretch
yet more contemptible than he who pretends to be
merry, and is not. Such a tragedian is only maud-
lin drunk." The gentleman went on with much
warmth ; but all he could say had little effect upon
me: but when I came hither, I so far observed his
counsel, tliat I looked into Shakspeare, The tra-
gedy I dipped into was " Henry the Fourth." I;i
the scene where Morton is preparing to tell Nor-
thumberland of his son's death, the old man does
not give him time to speak, but says,
*' The whiteness of thy cheeks
" Is apter t!ian thy tongue to tell tliy errand ;
' Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
" So dull, so ilcsd in look, so woe-be-gone,
' Drew f'riam's curtain at the dead of night,
' And would have told him half his Troy was burnt}
" But Pi iam found the fire, ere he his tongue,
" And I my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it.''
The Image in this place is wonderfully noble and
great ; yet this man in all this is but rising towards
his great affliction, and is still enough himself, as
you see, to make a simile. But when he is certain
of his son's deaths he is lost to all patiencCj and
N* 47. TATLEk/ t5
gives up all the regards of this life ; and since the
last of evils is fallen upon him, he calls for it upon
all the world.
" Now let not nature's band
" Keep t'le wild flood confin'd; let order dici
** An I ler the world no longer be a sugej
" To feed coiitenti'in in a lingering act;
' Bui let one spirit of thf- first-horn Cain
*' Ri;iK,n in all bosoms, lliat each heart being set
' On bloody courses, the wide scene may enJ,
' And darkness be the burier of the dead."
Reading but this one scene has convinced me,
that he, who describes the concern of great men,
must have a sonl as noble, and as susceptible of
high thoughts, as they whom he represents : I shall
therefore lay by my dramA for some time, and turn
my thoughts to cares and griefs, somewhat below
that of heroes, but no less moving. A misfortune,
proper for me to take notice of, has too lately hap-
pened : the disconsolate Maria has three days kept
her chamber for the loss of the beauteous Fidelia,
her lap-dog. Lesbia herself did not shed more
tears for her sparrow. What makes her the more
concerned, is, that we know not whether Fidelia
was killed or stolen j but she was seen in the par-
lour-window when the train-bands went by, and
never since. Whoever gives notice of her dead
or alive, shall be rewarded with a kiss of her
lady.
H a
ie tATLER. N' 4S^
W 48. SATURDAY, JULY 30, 1709.
Plrtuiemverba futant, ut
Lucum ligna
HOR. Ep. VI. 31.
** They kok on virtue as an empty name."
From my own Apartment, July 29.
This day I obliged Pacolet to entertain 'me with'
matters which regad-ded persons of his own cha-
racter and occupation. We chose to take onr Avalk
on Tower-hill; and as we were coming; frora
thence, in order to stroll as far as Garraway's *, !
observed two men, -who had but just landed, com-'
ing from the water-side. I thought there was some-
thing uncommon in their mien and aspect ; but
though tliey seemed by their visagis to be related^
yet was there a warmth in their manner, as if they-
differed very much in their sentiments of the subject
on which they were talking. One of them seemed
to have a natural contidence, mixed \^ith an inge-
nuous freedom, in his gesture; his dress very plain,
but very graceful and becoming : the other, in the
midst of an over-bearing carriage, betrayed, by fre-
quently looking round him, a suspicion that he wag
not enough regarded by those he met, or that he
feared they would make some attack upon him.
This person was much taller than his companion,
* Garraway kept a cofFce-house at that time, oppnsite to
tbe Royal Excliangp, probably in the place wli^rs thsre is nav
a coffee-house well known by the same name.
TSI'' i8. TATLER. 77
and added to that height the advantage of a feather
in his Iral-, and heels to his shoes so monstrously
hrgh, that he had three or four times fallen down,
had he not been supported by his friend. They
made a full stop as they came within a few }:ird.s of
the place where we stood. The plain gcr.tleman
bowed to Pacolet, the other looked upon him with
some displeasure : upon which I asked him, who
they both were? when he thus informed nie of tlieir
persons and circumstances :
" You may remember, Isaac, that I have often
told you, there are beings of a superior rank to
mankind; who frequently visit the habitations -of
men, in order to call them from some wrong pur-
suits in which they are actually engaged, or divert
them from methods which will lead them into errors
for the future. He that will carefully reflect upon
the occurrences of, his life, will lind he has been
sometimes extricated out of difficulties, and re-
ceived favours where he could never have expected
such benefits ; as well as met with cross events from
some unseen hand, which has disappointed his best-
laid designs. Such accidents arrive from the inter-
ventions of aerial beings, as they are benevolent or
hurtful to the nature of man ; and attend his steps
in the tracks of ambition, of bushicss, and of plea-
sure. Before I ever appeared to you in the manner
I do now, I have frequently followed you in your
evening-walks ; and have often, by throwing some
accident in your way, as the passing by of a fu-
neral, or the appearance of some other solemn ob-
ject, given your imagination a hew turn, and
changed a night you have destined to mirth and
jollity, into an exercise of study and contemplation,
I was the old soldier who met you last summer in
Chelsea-helds, and pretended that I had broken my
wooden leg, and could not get homej but I snapped
H 3
'/S TATLER. N 48.
it short off, on purpose that you might fall into the
rrflections you did on that subject, and take me into
your hack. If you remember, you made yourself
very merry on that fracture, and asked me whether
1 thought I should next winter feel cold in the toes
of that leg ? as is usually observed, that those who
lose limbs are sensible of pains in the extreme parts,
even after those limbs are cut of}'. However, my
keeping you then in the story of the battle of the
Boyne prevented an assignation, which would have
led you into more disasters than I then related.
" To be short: those two persons whom you see
yonder are such as I am ; they are not real men,
but are mere shades and figures ; one is named
Alethes, the other Verisimilis. Their office is to be
the guardians and representatives of conscience and
honour. They are now going to visit the several
parts of the town, to see how their interests in the
world decay or flourish, and to purge themselves
from the many false imputations they daily meet
with in the commerce and conversation of men.
You observed Verisimilis frowned when he first saw
me. What he is provoked at is, that I told him
one day, though he strutted and dressed with so
much ostentation, if he kept himself within his own
bounds, he was but a lacquey, and wore only that
gentleman's livery whom he is now with. I'his
frets him to the heart: for you must know, he has
pretended a longtime to set up for himself, and gets
among a crowd of the more unthinking part of man-
kind, who take him for a person of the first qua-
lity ; though his introduction into the world was
wholly owing to his present companion."
This encounter was veiy agreeable to me, and I
was resolved to dog^ them, and desired Pacolet to
accompany me. 1 soon perceived what he told me,
in the gesture of the persons ; for when they looked
N" 48; TATLER. *7^
at each other in discourse, the well-dressed man
suddenly cast down his eyes, and discovered that
the other had a painful superiority over him. After
some further discourse, they took leave. The plain
gentleman went down towards Thames-street, in
order to be present, at least, at the oaths taken at
the Custom-house ; and the other made directly for
the heart of the city. It is incredible how great a
change there immediately appeared in the man of
honour, when he got rid of his uneasy companion :
he adjusted the cock of his hat a-new, settled his
sword-knct, and had an appearance that attracted a
sudden inclination for him and his interests in all
who beheld him. " For my part," said I to Pacolet,
" I cannot but think you are mistaken in calling
this person of the lov/er quality 3 for he looks more
like a gentleman than the other. Do not you ob-
.serve all eyes are upon him, as he advances ? how
each sex gazes at his stature, aspect, address, and
motion ?" Pacolet only smiled, and shaked his
head ; as leaving me to be convinced by my own
further observation. We kept on our way after him
until we came to Exchangoalley, where the plain
gentleman again came up to the other 3 and they
stood together after the manner of eminent mer-
cliants, as if ready to receive application ; but I
could obseiTC no man talk to either of them. The
one v/as laughed at as a fopj and I heard many
whispers against the other, as a whimsical sort of a
fellow, and a great enemy to trade. They crossed
Corn!) ill together, and came into the full Exchange,
where some bowed, and gave tiiemselve^ airs in
being knovN^n to so tine a man as Verisirailis, who,
they said, had great interest in all princes courts ;
and the otlier was taken notice of by several, as one
they had seen somewhere long before. One more
particularly said, he had formerly been a man gf
80 TATLER. N' 43
consideration in the world ; but was so nnluok^j'
that they who dealt with him, by some strange in-
fatuation or other, had a way of cutting ott' their
own bills, and were prodigiously slo'^ in in)proving.
their stock. But as much as 1 was curious to ob-
serve the reception these gentlemen met with upon
the Exchange, I could not help being interrupted
by one that came up towards us, to whom every
body made their compliments. He was of the
common height, and in his dress there seemed to
be great care to appear no way particular, except in
a certain exact and feat manner of behaviour and
circumspection. He was wonderfully careful that
his shoes and cloaths should be without the least
speck upon them ; and seemed to think, that on
such an accident depended his very life and fortune.
There was hardly a man on the Exchange who had
not a note upon him ; and each seemed very well
satisfied that their money lay in his hands, without
demanding payment. I asked Pacolet, what great
merchant that was, who was so universally addressed
to, yet made too familiar an appearar>ce to com-
jnand that extraordinary deference ? J'acolet an-
swered, " This person is the da-mon or genius of
credit} his name is XTmbra. If you observe, he
follows Alethes and Verisimilis at a distance ; and
indeed has no foundation for the figure he makes m
the world, but that he is thought to keep their cashj
though, at the same time, none who trust him
would trust the others for a groat." As the com-
pany rolled about, the three spectres were jumbled
into one place : when they were so, and all thought
there was an alliance between them, they immedi-
ately drew upon them the business of the whole
Exchange, But their affairs soon increased to such
an unvieldy bulk, that Alethes took his leave, and
said, " he would not engage further than he had au
N' 48. TATLER. 81
immediate fund to answer." Verisirailis pretended,
" that though he had revenues large enough to go
on his own bottom, yet it was btlow one of his fa-
mily to condescend to trade in l.is o'.vn namej"
therefore he also retired. I was exlremely troubled
to sec the glorious mart of London left witli no othei*
guardian but him of credit. But I'acoiet told me,
'' that traders had nothing to do with the honour or
conscience of their correspondents, provided they
supported a general beliaviour in the world, which
C(~)uld not hurt their credit or their purses : for,"
said he, " you may. in this one tract of building of
London and Westminster, see the imaginary mo-
tives on Vvhich the greatest aftairs move, as well as
in rambling over the face of the earth For tluxigh
Alethes is the real governor, as well as legislator of
mankind, he has very little business but to make up
quarrels ; and is only a general referee, to whom
every man pretends to appeal, but is satisfied with
his determinations no further than tLey promote his
own interest. Hence it is, that the soldier and the
courtier model their actions according to Verisimilis's
manner, and the merchant according to that of
Umbra. Among these men, honour and credit are
not valuable possessions in themselves, or pursued
out of a princi])le of justice ; but merely as they are
serviceable to ambition and to commerce. But the
world will never be in any manner of order or tran-
quillity, until men are firmly convinced, that con-
science, honour, and credit, are all in one interest ;
and that, without the concurrence of the former,
the latter are but impositions upon . ourselves and
others. The force these delusive words have is not
seen in the transactions -of the busy world only, but
they have also their tyranny over the fair sex. Were
you to ask the unhappy Lais, what pangs of rc-
il"cLion preferring the consideration of her honour
82 *f AtLEft. Jjo 4,
to hCr conscience has given her ? she could tell you,
that it has forced her to drink up half a gallon this
winter of Tom Dassapas's potions ; that she still
pines away fur fear of being a mother ; and knows
hot but, the moment she is such, she shall be a
murderess : but if conscience had as strong a force
upon the mind as honour, the first step to her un-
happy condition had riever been made } she had
still been innocent, as she is beautiful. Were men
so enlightened and studious of iheirown good, as to
act by the dictates of th( ir reascm and reflection,
and not the opinion of others, conscience would be
the steady ruler of human life ; and the words truth,
law, reason, equity, and religion, would be but sy-
nonymous terms for that only guide which makes us
pass our days in our oWn favour and approbation."
N" 49. TUESDAY, AUGUST 2, 1709.
^uicquid figunt bomtnes
noitri at/ut-rago Uhdli.
JUV. Sat.I.Sf, 36.
Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or ilrcam,
Our motley paper seizes for its then e. P.
JJ'lutcs Chocolate-hoiise, August i.
The imposition of honest names and wc.rds upon
improper subjects, has made so regular a contusion
among us, that we are :,pt to sit down with oui"
errors, well enough satished with the methods wc
V 49. TATLER. 83
are fallen into, without attemptinp: to deliver our-
selves from the tyranny under which we are re-
duced by such innovations. Of all the laudable
motives of human life, none have suffered so much
in this kind, as love; under which revered name a
brutal desire called lust is frequently concealed and
admitted ; though they differ as much as a matron
from a prostitute, or a companion from a buffoon.
Philander the other day v/as bewailing this misfor-
tune with much indignation, and upbraided mc for
having some time since quoted those excellent lines
of the satirist :
" To an exact perfeciicn they have brought
" The actnii love, the pas?ioa is f )rgot. '
" How could you," said he, "leave such a hint
so coldly ? How could Aspasia and Sempronia enter
into your imagination at the same time, and you
never declare to us the different receptions you gave
them ?"
The figures which the antient mythologists and
poets put upon Love and Lust in their writings are
very instructive. Love is a beauteous blind child,
adorned with a quiver and a bow, which he plays
with, and shoots around him, without design or di-
rection ; to intimate to us, that the person beloved
has no intention to give us the anxieties we meet
with, but that the beauties of a worthy object are
like the charms of a lovely infant ; they cannot but
attract your concern and fondness, though the child
so regarded is as insensible of the value you put
upon it, as it is that it deserves your benevolence.
On the other side, the sages figured Lust in the
form of a satyr ; of shape, part human, part bestial ;
to signify that the followers of it prostitute the rea-
son of a man to pvirsue the appetites of a beast.
This satyr is made to haunt the paths and coverts
"84 TATLER. N 49.
of the wood-nymphs and shepherdesses, to kirk on
the banks of rivulets, and watch the purling streams,
as the resorts of retired virgins; to show, that law-
less desire tends chiefly to prey upon innocence,
and has something so unnatural in it, that it hates
its own make, and shuns the object it loved, as soon
as it has made it like itself. Love, therefore, is a
child that complains and bewails its inability to help
itself, and weeps for assistance, without an imme-
diate reflection or knowledge of the food it wants :
Lust, a watchful thief, which seizes its prev, and
lays snares for its own relief j and its principal ob-
ject being innocence^ it never robs, but it murders
at the same time.
From this idea of a Cupid and a Satyr, we may
settle our notions of these different desires, and ac-
cordingly rank their followers. Aspasia must,
therefore, be allowed to be the first of the beaiiteous
order of Love, whose unaffected freedom, and con-
scious innocence, give her the attendance of the
Graces in all her actions. That awful distance
which we bear toward her in all our thoughts of her,
and that chearful familiarity with which we ap-
proach her, are certain instances of her being the
truest object of love of any of her sex. In this
accomplished lady, love is the constant effect, be-
cause it is never the design. Yet, though her mien
carries much more invitation than command, to be-
hold her is an immediate check to loose behaviour;
and to love her is a liberal education ; for, it being
the nature of all love to create an imitation of the
beloved person in the lover, a regard for Aspasia
naturally produces decency of manners, and good
conduct of life, in her admirers. ]f, therefore, the
giggling Leucippe could but see her train of fops
assembled, and Aspasia move by them, she would
be mortiiied at the veneration with which she is
H" 49. TATLER. 85
beheld, even by Leucippe's own unthinking equi-
page, whose passions have long taken leave of their
nnderstandings.
As charity is esteemed a conjunction of the .good
qualities necessary to a virtuous man, so love is the
happy composition of all the accomplishments that
make a tine gentleman. The motive of a man's
life is seen in all his actions ; and such as have the
beauteous boy for their inspirer have a simplicity of
behaviour, and a certain evenness of desire, which
burns like the lamp of life in their bosoms ; v/hile
they who are instigated by the satyr are ever tor-
tured by jealousies of the object of their wishes ;
often desire what they scorn, and as often con-
sciously and knowingly embrace where they are mu-
tually indiflercnt.
Florio, the generous husband, and Limberham,
the kind keeper, are noted examples of the different
effects which these desires produce in the mind.
Amanda, who. is the wife of Florio, lives in the
continual enjoyment of new instances of her hus-
band's friendship, and sees it the end of all his am-
bition to make her hfe one series of pleasure and sa-
tisfaction ; and Amanda's relish of the goods of life
is all that makes them pleasing to Florio : they be-
have themselves to each other, when present, with
a certain apparent Ixtnevolence, which transports
above rapture j and they think of each other in ab-
sence with a conhdence unknown to the highest
friendship : their satisfactions are doubled, their
sorrows lessened, by participation.
On the other hand, Corinna*, who is the mis-
ti'ess of Limberham, lives in constant torment : her
* The persons here alluded to under the names of Corinna
and Liniberhun, were Mrsi Elizabeth Thomas, junior, and
Henry Cromwell, Esquire.
VOL. II. i
86 TATLER. N 49*
equipage is an old woman, who was what Corinna
is now 3 an antiquated footman, who was pimp
to Limberham's father J and a chambermaid, who
is Limberhain's wench by tits, out of a principle of
politics to make her jealous and watchful of Co-
rinna, Under this guard, and in this conversation,
Corinna lives in state : the furniture of her habi-
tation, and her own gorgeous dress, make her the
envy of all the strolling ladies in the town ; but
Corinna knows she herself is but part of Limber-
ham's houshold stuff, and is as capable of being
disposed of elsewhere, as any other moveable. But
while her keeper is persuaded by his spies, that no
enemy has been within his doors since his last visit,
no Persian prince was ever so magnificently boun-
tiful : a kind look or falling tear is worth a piece of
brocade, a sigh is a jewel, and a smile is a cupboard
hf plate. All this is shared between Corinna and
her guard in his absence. With this great ceco-
nomy and industry docs the unhappy Liraberham
purchase the constant tortures of jealousy, the fa-^
vour of spending his estate, and the opportunity of
enriching one by whom he knows he is hated and
despised. These are the ordinary and common evils
which attend keepers ; and Corinna is a wench but
of common size of wickedness, were you to know
what passes under the roof where the fair Messalina
reigns with her humble adorer.
Messalina is the professed mistress of mankind ;
she has left the bed of her husband, and her beau-
teous offspring, to give a loose to want of shame
and fulness of desire. Wretched Nocturnus, her
feeble keeper! How the poor creature fribbles in
his gait, and skuttles from place to place, to dis-
patch his necessary affairs in painful daylight, that
he may return to the constant twilight preserved in
that scene of wantonness, Messalina's bed cliambcr!
jr* 4f . f atlea. St
How does he, while he is absent from thence, con-
sider in his imagination the breadth of his porter's
shoulders, the spruce night-cap of his valet, the
ready attendance of his butler ! any of all whom he
knows she admits, and professes to approve of. This>
alas ! is the gallantry, this the freedom of our line
gentlemen ; for this they preserve their liberty, and
keep dear of that bugbear, marriage. But he does
not understand either vice or virtue, who will not
allow, that hfe without the rules of morality is a
wayward uneasy being, with snatches only of plea-
sure j but under the regulation of virtue, a reason-
able and uniform habit of enjoyment. I have seen^
in a play of old Haywood's, a speech at the end of
an act, which touched this point with much spirit.
He makes a married man in the play, upon some en-
dearing occasion, look at his spouse with an air of
fondness, and fall into the following reflection on
his condition :
Oh marriage ! happiest, easiest, siifest state ;
Let debauchees anJ (Jrniikartls scorn thy rices,
Wlia, in their nauseous draughts and lu'^ts, profane
Both thee and Heav'n, by ivhonti thon wait ordaiu'd.
How can the savage c.ili it loss of freedom,
Thus to converse with, thns to gaze at
A faithful, beaateoas friend ?
Bhish not, my fair-one, that thy love applauvlsthee^
Nor he it painful to my weddeil wifj
That nrty full heart o'erflows in praiss of thee.
Tliou arc by law, by interest, passion, mine :
Passion and reaso.i jom in 1 )ve of tht-e.
Thuj, tliro.ig:i a vvotld of calumny ani fr in ',
VVa pass both nmepro itli'd, botli umiec.iv'J j
W'h le ill c Ci) otl'.ei's intereit and li.-pjiincss.
We wit!i()\ic srt all facu!iies employ,
A:d all our seiibcs wiiliout guilt enjoy.
I 2
98 TATLER. U" 50.
N'' 50. THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, 1709.
^uJcquid tigunt homines
noitri est farrago liU//i.
jUV. Sat.I. 85, U,
Wbats'er mei; do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our motley paj-er seizes for its theme. P.
White s Chocolate-house, August a.
The History of Orlando the Fair.
'VVhatever malicious men may say of our Lucu-'
brations, we have no design but to produce un-
known merit, or place in a proper light the actions
of our conteinporaries who labour to distinguish
themselves, whether it be by vice ox virtue. For
we shall never give accounts to the world of any
thing, but what the lives and endeavours of the
persons, of whom we treat, make the basis of their
fame and reputation. For this reason, it is to be
hoped that our appearance is reputed a public be-
nefit ; and though certain persons may turn what
we mean for panegyric into scandal, let it be an-
swered once for all, that if our praises are really
designed as raillery, such malevolent persons" owe
their safety from it, only to their being too incon-
siderable for history. It is not every man who deals
in rats bane, oris unseasonably amorous, that can
adorn story like ^sculapius * ; nor every stock-
jobber of the India ccm.pany can assume the port,
^nd personate the figure of Aurengczebe. My noble
* Dr. Radcliffe,
N' 60. TATLER. Sgi
ancestor, j\Ir, Shakspeare, who was of the I'nce ot
the Staffs, was not more fond of the memorable Sir
John Falstaff, than I am of those worthies ; but
the Latins have an admirable admonition expressed
in three words, to wit, Ne quid nimis, which foi;-
bids my indulging myself on those delightful sub-
jects, and calls me to do justice to others, who
make no less figures in our generation : of such,
the first and most renowned is, that eminent hero
and lover Orlando* the handsome, whose disap-
pointments in love, in gallantry, and in war, have
banished him from public view, and made him vo-
luntarily enter into a confinement to which tlie un-
grateful age would otherwise have forced him. Ten
lustra and more are wholl)^ passed since Orlanda
first appeared in the metropolis of this island : his
descent nohic, his wit humorous, his person charm-
ing. Rut to none of these recommendatory advan-
tages was his title so undoubted, as that of his
beauty. His complexion was fair, bat his coun-
tenance manlv ; his stature of the tallest, his shape
tlie most exact : and though in all his limbs he had
2- proportion as delicate as we see in the works of
the most skilful statuaries, his body had a strength
;ind firmness little inferior to the marble of which
such images are formed. This made Orlando the
universal fianie of all the fair sex; innocent virgins
sighed for him, as Adonis ; experienced widows, as
Hercules. Thus did this figure walk alone the
pattern and ornament of our species, but of course
the envy of all who had the same passions without
his superior merit, and pretences to the favour of
* Rnhert Fieldins;, esq. commonly known then by the
rnxe of Boati Fid^Urg, :i h.iiu'some and very comely gentle-
nun, n:uoli ii;tt:i.2u;shed in the *' Annals of Gallantry" at that
90 TATLER. N" 50.
that enchanting creature, woman. However, the
generous Orlando believed himself formed for the
World, and not to be ingrossed by any particular af-
fection. He sighed not for Delia, for Chioris, for
Chloe, for Betty, nor my lady, nor for the ready
chamber-maid, nor distant baroness : woman was
his mistress, and the whole sex his seraglio. His
form was always irresistible : and if we consider,
that not one of five hundred can bear the least fa-
vour from a lady without being exalted above him-
self j if also we must allow, that a smile from a
side-box has made Jack Spruce half mad ; we can-
not think it wonderful that Orlando's repeated con-
quests touched his brain : so it certainly did, and.
Orlando became an enthusiast in love; and in all
his address, contracted something out of the ordi-
nary course of breeding and civility. However,
powerful as he was, he would still add to the ad-
vantages of his person that of a profession wiiich
the ladies always favour, and immediately com-
menced soldier. Thus equipped for love and ho-
nour^ our hero seeks distant climes and adventures,
and leaves the despairing nymphs of Great Britain,
to the courtships of beaux and witlings till his re-
turn. His exploits in foreign nations and courts
have not been regularly enough communicated unto
us, to report them with that veracity, which we
profess in our narrations: but after many feats of
arms (which those who were witnesses to them
have suppressed out of envy, but which we have
had faithfully related from his own mouth in our
public streets) Orlando returns home full, but not
loaded, witli years. Be^ux born in his absence
made it their business to decry his furniture, his
dress, his marmer ; but all such rivalry he sup-
pressed (as the philosopher did the sceptic, who
argued there was no such thing as motion) by only
N 50. TATLER. ffl
moving. The beauteous Villaria *, Avh only was
fomied for his paramour, became the object of his
aftection. His first speech to her was as follows :
" Madam,
" It is not only that nature has made us tAvo the
most accomplished of earh sex, and pointed to us to
obey her dictates in becoming one ; but that there
is also an ambition in following the mighty persons
you have favoured. Where kings and heroes, as
great as Alexander, or such as could personate
Alexander, have bowed, permit your General to lay
his laurels,"
According to Milton ;
The Fair with c 'nscious mijesty approv'd
His pleaded leasjn.
Fortune having now supplied Orlando with ne-
cessaries for his high taste of gallantry and pleasure,
his equipage and Gpconomy had something in them
more sumptuous and gallant than could be received
in our degenerate age ; therefore his figure, though
highly graceful, appeared so exotic, that it as-
sembled all the Britons under the age of sixteen,
who saw his grandeur, to follow his chariot with
shouts and acclamations 5 which he regarded with
the contempt which great minds affect in the midst
of applauses. I remember, I had the honour to see
him one day stop, and call the youths about him, to
whom he spake as follows :
" Good bastards Go to school, and do not lose
your time in following my wheels : I am loth to hurt
you, because I know not but you are all my own
offspring : hark ye, you sirrah with the white hair,
Barbara, daughter and heiress to William Yilliers lord
v.s count Grandison of the kingdom of Ireland.
S2 TATLER. N SO,
I am sure you are mine : there is half a crown.
Tell your mother, this, with the half crown I gave
her when J got you, comes to five shillings. Thou
hast cost me all that, and yet thou art good for
nothing. Why, you young dogs, did you never
see a man before ?" ' Never such a one as you,
noble general,' replied a truant from Westminster.
'' Sirrah, I believe thee: there is a crown for thee.
Drive on, coachman."
This vehic'e, though sacred to love, was not
adorned with doves : such an hieroglyphic denoted
too languishing a passion. Orlando therefore gave
the eagle, as being of a constitution which inclined
him rather to seize his prey with talons, than pine
for it with murmurs.
Froin viy own Apartment, August 2.
I have i-eceived the followiiig letter from Mr.
Powel of Bath, who> I think, runs from the point
between us J which I leave the whole world to
judge.
''To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire:
" Sir>- Bath, July 2S.
" Having a great deal of more advantageous bu-
siness at present on my hands, I thought to have
deferred answering, your Tatler of the twenty-first
instant until the company was gone, and season
over J but having resolved not to regard any imper-
tinehcies of your paper, except what relate parti-
cularly to me, .1 am the more easily induced to an-
swer you, as I shall find time to do it. First, partly
lest you should think yourself neglected, which. I
have reason to believe you would take heinously
ill. Secondly, partly because it will increase my
fiime, and consequently my audience^ when all tlie
a'&O, TATLEK, ^
quality shall s^e Avith how iruch wit and raillery I
shbw you I do not care a farthing for you. '1 hird-
ly, partly because being without books, .if I do not
show much learning, it will not be imputed to ray
having none,
*' I have travelled Italy, France, and Spain, and
fully comprehend whatever any German artist in
the world can do ; yet cannot I imagine, why you
should endeavour to disturb the repose and plenty
which, though unworthy >, I enjoy at this place. It
cannot be, that you take offence at my prologue-
and epilogues, which you are pleased to miscall
foolish and abusive. No, no, until you give a
better, I shall not forbear thinking that the true
reason of your picking a quarrel with me was, be-
cause it is more agreeable to your principles, as well
as "more to the horiour of your assured victory, t.a
attack a governor. Mr. Isaac, Mr. Isaac, I can see
into a miU-stone as far as another, as the saying is ;
3'ou arc for sowing the seeds of sedition and disobe-
dience among my puppets, and your zeal for the
good old canse would make you persuade Punch fo
puU tbn string from his cho]is, and not move his jaw
wlien I have a mind he should harangue. Now, J
appeal to all men, if this be not contrary to that un-
accoujit.'ihie and vmcontroulable dominion, winch by
the laws of nature I exercise over them; for all
sori:s of wood and wire were made for the use ami
benefit of man : 1 have, therefore, an unquestiona-
ble right to frame, fashion, and ])ut them together
as I please ; and having made them what they are,
my puppets are my property, and- therefore my
slaves : nor is there in nature any thing more just,
than the homage which is paid by a less to a more'
excellent being : so that by the right, therefore, of
9 superior genius, I am their supreme inodera^or.
^'4 tAtLfelt. ^j" 50.
although you would insinuate, agreeably to your
levelling principles, that I am myself but a great
puppet, and can therefore have but a co-ordinate
jurisdiction with them. I suppose, I have now sut-
liciently made it appear, that 1 have a paternal right
to keep a pujipet-show, and this right I Mill main-
tain in my prologues oil all occasions.
" And, therefore, ,if you wiite a defence of your-
self against this my self-defence, I admonish you.
to keep within bounds j fot' every day will not be so
propitious to you as the twenty-ninth of April ; and
perhaps my resentmelit may get the better of my
generosity, and I may no longer scorn to tight one
who is not my equal, with unequal weapons : there
are such things as scandalums viagnatuvis ; there-
fore, take heed hereafter how you write such things
as I cannot easily answer, for that will put me in a
passion.
" I order you to handle only these two propo-
sitions, to which our dispute may be reduced : the
first, whether 1 have not an absolute power, when-
ever I please, to light a pipe with one oi Piiuch'a
legs, or warm my fingers with his whole carcase ?
the second, whether the devil would not be in
Punch, should he by word or deed oppose my so-
vereign will and pleasure ? and then, perhaps, I
may, if I can lind leisure for it, give you the trou-
ble of a se.ctmd letter.
" But if you intend to tell me of the original of
puppet-shows ; and the several changes and revo-
lutions that have happened in them since Thespis,
and I do n.)l care who, that is Noli me tangere!
1 have solemnly engaged to say nothing cf what I
cannot approve. Or, if you talk of certain con-
tracts with I he mayor and burgesses, or fees to the
constablesj for the privilege of acting, I will n6t
N 50* TATLER. &5-
write one single word about any snch matters ; but
shall leave you to be munabled by the learned and
very ingenious author of a late book, who knows
very well what is to be said and done in such cases.
He is now shuffling the cards, and dealing to Ti-
mothy > but if he wins the game, I will send him
to play at back-gammon with you ; and then he
will satisfy you, that deuce-ace makes five.
*< And so, submitting myself to be tried by my
country, and allov.^ing any jury of twelve good
nxcn, and true, to be that country 5 not excepting
any unless Mr. Isaac BickerstafF to be of the pan-
nel, for you are neither good nov true ; I bid you
keartily farewell ; and am. Sir,
Your loving friend,
POWEL."
Advertisement.
Proper cuts for the historical part of this paper,
are now almost finished, by an engraver lately ar-
rived from Paris, and will be sold at all the toy-t
fehops in London and Westminster.
96 TATLER. N' 51.
N51. SATURDAY, AUGUST 6, 1709.
^icquid agunt hominei
nostri at farrago libellL
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Wiiate'er men do, or fay, or think, or dream,
I Our motley paper feizes for its theme. P.
Whites Chocolate-house, August 5.
Continuation of the History of Orlando the Fair*,
Fortune being now propitious to the gay Orlando,
he dressed, he spoke, he moved as a man might be.
supposed to do in a nation of pygmies, and had an
equal vahic for our approbation or dislike. It is
Usual for thbse who profess, a contempt for the
world, to fly from it and live in obscurity ; but Or-
lando, with a greater magnanimity, contemned it,
and appeared in it to tell them so. If, therefore,
his exalted mien met with an unwelcome reception,
he was sure always to double the cause which gave
the distaste. You see our beauties affect a negli-
gence in the ornament of their hair, and adjusting
their head-dresses, as conscious that they adora
whatever they wear. Orlando had not only this
humour in common with other beauties, but also
had a neglect whether things became him, or not,
in a world he contemned. For this reason, a noble
particularity appeared in all his of.conomy, furni-
ture, and equipage And to convince the present
little race, how unequal all their measures were to
* See p. 83.
3^= 51. TATLER. 9l
nn Antediluvian as he called himself, in respect of
fhe insects which tiOw appear for men, he some-
times rode in an open ttiriibril,- of less size than or-
dinnr}', to show the largeness of hi?! limbs, and the
grandeur of his personage, to the greater advantage.
vVt other seasons, all his appointments had a magni-
ncence, as if it were formed by the genius of Tri-
Jiialeliio of old, which showed itself in doing ordi-
nary things, with an air of pomp and grandeur.
( )rlando therefore called for tea by beat (rf dram ;
iiis valet got ready to shave him by a trumpet to
horse ; and water was brought for liis teeth, when
tlie sound was changed to boots and saddle.
In all these glorious excesses from the commoix
practice, did the happy Orlando live and reign in an
uninterrupted tranquillity, until an luilucky acci-
dent brought to his ren:!cmbrance, that one evening
he v\as married before he courted the nujitials of
V'iilaria. Several fatal memorandums were pro-
duced to revive the memory of this accident ; and
the unhappy lover was for ever banished her pre-
sence, to whom he owed the support of his just
renown and gallantry. But distress does not debase
noble minds ; it only changes the scene, and gives
them new glory by that alteration. Orlando there-
tore now raves in a garret, and calls to his neigh-
bour-skies to pity his dolours, and to find redress
for an unhappy lover. All high spirits, in any great
agitation of mind, are inclined to relieve themselves
by poetry : the renowned porter of Oliver had not
more volumes around his cell in his college of Bed-
lam, than Orlando in his present apartment. And
though inserting poetry in the midst of prose be
thought a licence among correct writers not to be
indulged, it is hoped the necessity of doing it, to
give a just idea of the hero of whgm we treat, will
plead for the liberty we shall hereafter Uike, to
yoL. II. K
98 TATLER. ' N^5I.
print Orlando's soliloquies in verse and prose, after
the manner of gieat wits, and such as those to
whom they are nearly allied.
Iflirs Cojfee^house, August 5.
A good company of us were this day to spe, or
rather to hear, an artful person do several feats of
activity with his throat and v/indpipe. The first
thing wherewith he presented us, was a ring of
bells, which he imitated in a most miraculous man-
ner 3 after that, he gave us all the different ^notes of
a pack of hounds, to our great delight and astonish-
ment. The company expressed their applause with
much noise ; and never was heard such a harmony
of men and dogs : but a certain plump merry fellow,
from an angle of the room, fell a crowing like a
cock so ingeniously, that he won our hearts from
the other operator in an instant. As soon as I saw
him, I recollected I had seen him on the stage,
and immediately knew it to be Tom Mirrour *, the
comical actor. He immediately addressed himself
to me, and told me, *' he was surprised to see a vir-
tuoso take satisfaction in any representations below
that of human life 5" and asked me, " whether I
thought this acting of bells and dogs was to be con-
sidered under the notion of wit, humour, or satire?
Were it not better," continued he, " to have some
particular picture of man laid before your eyes, that
miight incite your laughter ?" He had no sooner
spoke the word, but he immediately quitted his na-
tural shape, and talked to me in a very different air
and tone from what he had used before : upon
which, all that sat near us laughed ; but I saw no
distortion in his countenance, or any thing that ap-
* Mr. Richard Estcourt, commonly called Dick Estcourt,
celebrated for hi!; mimtck powers^ in which he was inimitable.
^'51. TAfLER. 99
peared to nie disagreeable. I asked Pacolet, "what
meant that sudden whisper about us ? for T could
not take the jest." He answered, " The gentleman
you were talking to assumed your air and coun-
tenance so exactly, that all fell a-laughing tu see
how little you knew yourself, and how much you
were enamoured with your own image. But thst
person," continued my monitor, " if men would
make the right use of him, might be as instru-
mental to their reforming errors in gesture, lan-
guage, and speech, as a dancing-master, linguist,
or orator You see he laid yourself before you with
so much address, that you saw nothing particular
in his behaviour : he has so happy a knack of reprcr-
senting errors and imperfections, that you can bear
your faults in him as well as in yourself: he is the
first mimick that ever gave the beauties, as well as
the deformities, of the man he acted. What Mr.
Dryden said of a very great man^ may be well ap-
plied to him :
" He seems to be
" Not one, but iiU mankind's epitome."
You are to know, that this Pantomime may be
said to be a species of himself : he has no com.merce
with the rest of mankind, but as they are the ob-
jects of imitation; like the Indian fuwl, called the
Mock -bird, who has no note of his own, but hits
every sound in the wood as soon as he hears itj so
that Mirrour is at once a copy and an original.
Poor Mirrour's fate, as well as talent, is like that of
the bird, Mc just now spoke of ; the nightingale, the
linnet, the lark, are delighted with jiis company j
but the buzzard, the crow, and tlie o\\ 1, are ob-
served to be his mortal enemies. Whenever So-
phronius meets INIirrour, he receives him with ci-
vility and ''esocct, and well knows a good copy of
K 2
100 TATLER. n'SI.
himself can be no injury to him ; but Bathillus
shuns the street where he expects to meet him ; for
he, that knows his every step ;uul look is con-
strained and allected, mu-t be afraid to be rivalled
in his action, and of having it discovered to be un-
natm-alj by its being ])ractised by another as well as
himself.
I
From my otvn Jpartment, August 5.
Letters from Coventry and other places have been
sent to me, in answer to what 1 have said in relation
to my antagonist Mr. Powell ; and advise me, with
warm language, to keep to subjects more proper
for me than such high points Eut the writers of
these epistles mistake the use and service I proposed
to the learned world by such observations : for you
are to understand, that the title of this paper gives
me a right in taking to myself, and inserting in it,
all such parts of any I)ook or letter Mhich are foreign
to the purpose intended, or proi'essed, by the writer:
so that suppose two great divines should argue, and
treat each other with warmth and levity unbecoming
their subject or character, all that they say unht
for that place is very proper to be inserted here.
Therefore, from time to time, in all writings which
shall hereafter be publislied, you shall have from nie
"extracts of all that shail appear not to the purpose j
and for the benefit of the gentle reader, I will show
what to turn over unread, and what to peruse. For
this end I have a mathematical sieve j)reparing, in
which I will sift every page and paragraph j and all
that falls through I Siiail make bold with for my
own use. TJie same tJiiiig vt'ill be as benericial in
.speech ; for all superfluous CA})ression.s in talk fall
to me also : as when a pleader at thf; bar det!if;ns
to be extremely impertinent and troublesome, :ind
qrieSj "Under lavour of the coiut with sub-^
N" 51. TATLER,.
mission, my lord 1 humbly offer"-
tliink I have well considered this matter; for I
v.ould be very far from trifling with your lordship's,
tiiue, or trespassing upon your patience however,
thus I will venture to say " and so forth. Of
else, when a sufficient self-conceited coxcomb is
bringing out somrtliing in his own praise, and be-
gins, " Without vanity, I must take this upon me
to assert." Tliere is also a trick which the fair sex
have, that will greatly contribute to swell my vo-
lumes : as, when a woman is going to abuse her
best f-iend, " Pray," says she, " have you heard
what is said of Mrs. such-a-one ? I am heartily
sorry to hear any thing of that kind of one T have
so great a value for ; but they make no scruple of
telling it; and it was not spoken of to me as a
secret, fur now all the town rings of it." All such
iiowcrs in rhetorick, and little refuges for malice,
are to be noted, and naturally belong only to
Tatlers. By this method you will immediately fmd
folios contract themselves into octavos, and the la-
bour of a fortnight got over in half a day.
Sf. James's C(>ffee- house, August _5
Last night arrived a mail from Lisbon, which
gives a very pleasing account of the posture of af-
fairs in that part of the world, the enemy having
been necessitated wholly to abandon the blockade
of Olivv-nza. Thhse advices say, that Sir John
Jennings is arrived at I,isbon. When that gentle-
man left Barcelona, his Catholic Majesty was taking
all possible methods for carrying on ah offensive war.
It is observed with great satisfaction in the court of
Spain, that there is very good intelligence between
the general officers : Count Staremberg and Mr.
Stanhope acting in all things with such unanimity,
that the public affair,s receive great advantages from
I- 3
102 TATJ.ER. N~ 52.
their personal friendship and esteem to each other,
and mutual assistance in promoting the service ot
the common cause.
** This is to give notice, that if any able-
bodied Palatine will enter into the bonds of matri-
mony with Betty Pepin, the said Palatine shall bo
settled in a freehold of forty -shillings per annuvi in
tlae county of Middlesex.
N 52. THURSDAY, AUGUST 9, 1709.
^Uquid agunt homines
ncitii tit farrago libel! i.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Wliate'er men Jo, or say, or tliink, or dream,
Our motley paper seizes for its theme, P.
Delamira resigns her Fan^.
I-oKG had the crowd of the gay and young stood in
suspence, as to their fate in their passion to the
beauteous Delamira ; but all their hopes are lately
vanished, by the declaration that she has made of
her choice, to take tlie happy Archibald * for her
companion for life. Upon her making this known,
The Honourable Lord Archibald Hamilton of Motherwell,
son to William third duke of Hamilton, was probably the hitpfy
Arciiibald here mant, who about this time muried Lady Jaas
Hamilton, youngest daughter of James Earl of Abercorn.
K' 52. TATLER. 103
the expfnrcof sweet powder and jessnmine are con-
siderably abated J and the mercers and milliners
O'liMplain of her want of public spirit, in not con-
cc.iling longer a stcret which was so much the be-
nefit of trade. But so it has happened ; and no
one was in confidence with her \n carrying on this
treaty, but the matchless Virgulta, whose despair of
ever entering the matrimonial slate made her, some
nights before Dclamira's resolution was published
to the world, address herself to her in the following
manner:
" Delamira ! you are now going into that stale of
life wherein the use of your charms is wholly to be
ai)plicd to the pleasing only one man. That swim-
ming air of your body, that janty bearing of your
head over one shoulder, and that inexpressible beau-
ty in your manner of playing your Fan, must be
lowered into a more confined behaviour ; to show,
that you would ratlicrshun than receive addresses for
the future. Therefore, dear Delamira, give me
those excellences you leave oiY, and acquaint me
with your manner of charming : for 1 take the li-
berty of our friendship to say, that when I consider
my own stature, motion. comj)lexion, wit, or breed-
ing, I cannot think myself any way your inferior ;
yet do 1 go through crowds without wounding a
man, and all my acquaintance marry round me,
while I live a virgin unasked, and I think unre-
garded."
Delamira licard her with great attention, and,
with that dexterity which is natural to her, told
Jier, that " all she had above the rest of her sex
and contemporary beauties, was wholly o\\ ing to a
r'an (that was left her by her mother, aiul had been
long in the family), which whoever had in pos-
session, and used with skill, should command the
hearts of all her beholders : and since," said she
104- TATLER. N" 52.
smiling, '' I have no tuore to c'ci with extending inr
conquests or triumphs, I will make you a inrsnit ot"
this inestimable mrlty." VIrgulta nv.de hei ex-
pressions of the highest gratitude for so nn<'(>mmon
a confidenee in her, and desired she would "show
her what was peeuliar in the management of that
utensil, which rendered it of such geiicr.;! force
vhile she was mistress of it." Dclamira replied,
" You see, madam, Cupid is the principvd ligure
painted on it ; and the sWill in playing the Fan is,
in your several motions of it, lo let him appear as
little as possible ; for honourable lovers tly all en-
deavours to ensnare them ; and your Cupid must
hide his bow and arrow, or he will never be sure of
his game. You may observe," continued she, " that
in all public assemblies, the sexes seem to separate
themselves, and draw up to attack each other with
eye-shot: tliat is the time when the Fan, which is
all the armour of a woman, is of most use in our
defence ; for our minds are construed by the waving
qf that little instrument, and our thouglUs a]'.pe;!r in
composure or agitation^, according to the mu'ii'n of
it. You may observe, when \\'ill Peregrine cop.ies
into the side-box. Miss Gatty flutters hrr fan. as a
fly does its wings round a candle ; while her eldest
sister, who is as much in love w ith him as she is, is
as grave as a vestal at his entrance j and the conse-
quence is accordingly. He watches half the play
for a glance from her sister, while (iatty is over-
looked and neglected. I. wish you heartily as nnich
sticcess in the management of it as I have had :
If you think fit to go on where I left off, I will give
you a short account oi the execution I have made
with it.
" Cymon, who is the dullest of mortals, and
though a wonderful great scholar, does not only
paube, but seems Lo take a nap with hix eyes opeti
N 52. TATLER. 105
between every, other sentence in his discourse:
him have I made a leader in assemblies ; and one
blow on the shoulder as I passed by him has raised
him to a downright impertinent in all conversations.
The airy ^Vill Sampler is become as lethargic by this
my wand, as Cimon is sprightly. Take it, good
gill, and use it without mercy ; for the reign of
beauty never lasted full three years, but it ended
in marriage, or condemnation to virginity. As you
i'ear, therefore, the one, and hope for the other, I
expect an hourly journal of your triumphs ; for I
have it by certain tradition, that it was given to the
first who wore it, by an inchantress, with this re-
markabk- power, tluu it bestovvs a husband in half a
year on her who does not overlook her proper mi-
nute ; but assigns to a long despair the woman who
i.s well oifered, and neglects that proposal. May
occasion attend your cliarms, and your charms slip
no occasion ! Give me, I say, an account of the
progi<:-.s of your forces at our next meeting ; and you
bhall lu ar what I think of my new condition. I
should meet my future spouse this moment. Fare-
wtli. ]/iVc in just terror of the dreadful words.
Bill-: WAS."
J'loiii vr.j oirn Apartment, August 8.
I hid the h'liu-.ur this evening to visit some ladies,
where the subject of the conversation was Modesty ;
which they cummended as a quality quite as be-
< oniiup in men as in women. 1 took the liberty to
.-;!v, ' Uiii';;!it be as beautiful in our behaviour as in
tb.cir';, y( i ii could n(t be said, it was as successlul
in life ; liir as ii was the only reconunendation in
tlKi',1. M) il V. .-.s (he greatest obstacle to us, both
in !(Ac : :ui biiv.ncss."' A giaillenian present was of
niv i;:';i.1. ;ir.i.! siiitl, tb.at " we must describe the
tiiiicrcuix^ belucui the Modesty of women aud that
106 TATLER. N" 52.
of men, or we should be confounded in our rea-
sonings upon it; fur this virtue is to be regarded
with respect to our different ways of life. Tlie
woman's province is, to be careful in her a-conon^y,
and chaste in her affections : the man's, to be active
in the improvement of his fortune, antl ready to un-
dertake whatever is consistent with his reputation
for that end." Modesty, therefore, in a \\onian,
has a certain agreeable fear in all she enters upon ;
and in men, it is composed of a right judgment of
what is proper for them to attempt. From hence it
is, that a discreet man is always a modest one. It
is to be noted that Modesty in a man is never to be
allowed as a good quality, but a weakness, if it
sup;)rcsses his virtue, and hides it iVom the world,
when he has at the same time a mind to exert him-
self. A French author says very justly, that Mo-
desty is to the other virtues in a man, what shade
in a picture is to the parts of the thing represented.
It makes all the other beauties conspicuous, which
would otherwise be but a wild heap of colours.
, This shade in our actions must, therefore, be very
justly applied ; for if there be too much, it hides
our good qualities, instead of showing them to ad-
vantage.
Nestor in Athens was an unhappy instance of this
truth ; for he was not only in his profession the
greatest man of that age, but had given more proofs
of it than any other man ever did ; yet, for want of
that natural freedom and audacity which is neces-
sary in commerce M'ith men, his personal Modesty
overthrew ail his public actions. Nestor was in those
days a skilful architect, and in a manner the in-
ventor of the use of mechanic powi.Ts ; which he
brought to so great perfection, that he knew to an
atom what foundation would bear such a snper-
stinicture : and they record of him, that he was so
N" 52. TATLER. 107
f)rocligiuu.sly exact, that, for the experiment's sake,
ic built an edifice of great beauty, and seeming
strength ; but contrived so as to bear only its own
wi'ight, and not to admit the addition of the least
particle. This building was beheld with much ad-
iniration by all the Virtuosi of tliat time ; but fell
down with no other pressure, but the settling of a
Wren upon the top of it. Yet Nestor's modesty
was such, that his art and skill were soon disre-
garded, fur want of that manner with which men of
the world support and assert the merit of their own
performances. Soon after this instance of his art,
Athens was, by iht; treachery of its enemies, burned
to the ground. This gave Nestor the greatest oc-
cusion that ever builder had to render his name im-
mortal, and his person venerable : for all the new
city rose according to his disposition, and all the
monuments of the glories and distresses of that
people were erected by that sole artist : nay, all
their temples, as well as houses, were the effects of
his study and labour j insomuch that it was said by
an old sage, " Sure Nestor will now be famous,
for the habitations of Gods, as well as men, are
built by his contrivance." But this bashful quality
.still put a damp upon his great knowledge, which has
as fatal an etfcct upon men's reputations as poverty;
for as it was said, ^' the poor man saved the city,
and the poor man's labour was forgot 5" so here we
find, " the modest man built the city, and the mo-
dest man's skill was unknown."
Thus, we see, every man is the maker of his own
fortune ; and what is very odd to consider, he must
in some measure be the trumpeter of his own fame :
not that men are to be tolerated who directly praise
themselves; but they are to be endued with a sort
of defensive eloquence, by which they shall be al-
105 TATLER. N^ 52.
ways capable of expressing the rules and arts where-
by they govern themselves.
Varilliis was the nian, of all I have rc:ul of, the
happiest in tlie true possession of thi.-> (jnality of Mn-
desty. My author says of him, JVIodeMty in Va-
rillus is really a virtue, for it is a voluntary (|\iality,
and the effect of good sense. lie is naiarallv bold
and enterprising 5 but so justly discreet, tliai he
never acts or speaks any thing, but those who b<
hold him know lie has forborn much mure thini hf
has performed or uttered, out of dcfereuro to th-,!
persons before whom he is. This makes Varillus
truly amiable, and all his attempts su>.'cessful ; for,
as bad as the world is thought to be by those who
are perhaps unskilled in it, want of success in our
actions is generally owing to v/ant of judgment in
what we ought to attt'Ojpt, or a rustic modesty,
which will not give us leave to undertake what we
ought. But how unfortunate this difHdent temper is
to those Wiho are possessed with it, may be best seen
in the success of such as are v.holly unaccjuaintcd
with it.
We have one peculiar elegance in our language
above all others, which is conspicuous in the term
" Fellow." This word, added to any of our ad-
jectives, extremely varies, or quite alters, the sense
of that with which it is joined. Thus though " a
modest man" is the most unfortunate of all men,
yet " a modest fellow" is as superlatively happy.
" A modest fellow" is a ready creature, who, with
great humility, and as great forwardness, visits his
patrons at all hours, and meets them in all places,
and has so moderate an opinion of himself, that he
makes his court at large. If you will not give him
a great employment, he will be glad of a little one.
He has so great a deference for -his benefactor's
N" 52. TATLER. 109
judgment, that as he thinks himself fit for any
thing he can get, so he is above nothing which is
oftered. He is like the young bachelor of arts,
who came to town recommended to a chaplain's
place ; but none being vacant^ modestly accepted
that of a postillion.
Wc have very many conspicuous persons of this
undertaking yet modest turn : I have a grandson
who is very happy in this quality : I sent hini
in the time of the last peace into France. As soon
as he landed at Calais, he sent me an exact ac-
count of the nature of the people^ and the policies
of tlic king of France. I got hitn since chosen a
member of a corporation : the modest creature,
as sdon as he came into the common-council, told
a senior burgess, he was perfectly out of the orders
of their house. In other circumstances he is so
thoioughly " modest a fellow" that he seems to
pretend only to things he understands. He is
a citizen only at court, and in tlie city a courtier.
In a word, to speak the characteristlcal difference
between " a modest man" and " a modest fellow ;"
t!ie Modest Man is in doubt in all his actions ; a
Mode-,t Fellow never has a doubt from lus cradle
to his grave.
VOL. 11.
110 TATLER. N" 53.
N^53. THURSDAY, AUGUST 11, 1769.
^icquld agunt homines
MUri tit farrago UhtUi.
JUV. Sa. I. 85, 86.
Whate'er men do, or Jay, or think, or tlieam.
Our motley paper seizes for its theme. P.
Whites Qhocol ale-house, August 10.
The Civil Husbaxd.
The fate and character of the inconstant Osmyn
is a just excuse for the little notice taken by his wi-
dow of his departure out of this life, which was
equally troublesome to Elmira, his faithful spouse,
and to himself. That life passed between them
after tliis manner, is the reason the town has just
now received a lady with all that gaiety, after
having been a relict but three months, which other
women hardly assume under fifteen, after such a
disaster. Elmira is the daughter of a rich and wor-
thy citizen, who gave her to Osmyn, witli a portion
which might have obtained her an alliance with our
noblest houses, and fixed her in the eye of the world,
where her story had not been now to be related :
for her good qualities had made her the object of
universal esteem among the polite part of mankind,
from whom she has been banished and immured
until the death of her gaoler. It is now full fifteen
years since tliat beauteous lady was given into the
hands of the happy Osmyn, who, in the sense of
all the world, received at that time a present more
valuable tlian the possession of botli the Indies. She
N" 53. TATLER. Ill
was then In her early bloom, with an understanding
and discretion very little inferior to the most expe-
rienced matrons. She was not beholden to the
charms of her sex, that her company was preferable
to any Osmyn could meet with abroad ; for were
all she said considered without regard to her being
a woman, it might stand the examination of tlie
severest judges. She had all the beauty of her own
sex, with ail the conversation-accomplishments of
ours. But Osmyn very soon grew surfeited with
the charms of her person by possession, and of her
luind by w;int of taste ; for he was one of that
loose sort of men, who have but one reason for
setting any value upon the fair sex ; who consider
even brides but as new women, and consequently
neglect them when they cease to be such. All the
merit of Elmira could not prevent her becoming a
mere wife within few months after her nuptials ;
and Osmyn had so little relish for her conversation,
that he complained of the advantages of it. " My
spouse," said he to one of his companions, " is so
very discreet, so good, so virtuous, and I know not
what, that I think her person is rather the object of
esteem than of love ; and there is such a thing as a
merit which causes rather distance than passion,"
But there being no medium in the state of matri-
mony, their life began to take tlie usual gradations
to become the most irkome of all beings. They
gn A' in the first place very complaisant ; and having
at heart a certain knowledge that they were indif-
ferent lo each oilier, apologies were made for every
little circumstance which they thought betrayed
their mutual coldness. This lasted but few months,
wlicM ihey shewed a difference of opinion in every
tritlf ; and, as a sign of certain decay of affection,
the word " perhaps" was introduced in all their
discourse. " 1 have a mind to go to the park,"
L 3
112 TATLER. N 53.
says she ; ** but perhaps, my dear, you will wiint
the coach on some other occasion." He " would
very willingly carry her to the play; but perlutps
she had rather go to lady Centaurs and j/lay at
onibrc." They were both ])ers(;ns of good dis-
cerning, and soon found that ihcy mortally hated
each other, by their manner of hiding it. Certain
it is, that there are some genio's which arc n<<t
ca[r.ble of pure affection, and a man is born with
talents for it as much as for poetry or any othc r
science.
Osmjn began too late to find the imperfection of
his own heart; and used all the methods in the
world to correct it, and argue himself into return of
desire and passion for his wife, hy the conteinplatlon
of her excellent qualities, his great obligations to
licr, and the high value he saw all the world except
himself did put upon her. But such is man's un-
happy condition, that though the weakness of the
heart has a prevailing power over the strength of
the head, yet the strength of the head has but sn:iall
force against the weakness of the heart. Osmyn,
therefore, struggled in vain to revive departed de-
sire; and for that reason resolved to retire to one of
his estates in the country, and pass away his hours of
wedlock in the noble diversions of the field ; and in
the fury of a disappointed lover, made an oath to
leave neither stag, fox, or hare living, during the
days of his wife. Besides that country-sports would
be an amusement, he hoped also, that his spouse
would be half killed by the very sense of seeing this
town no more, and would think her life ended as
soon as she left it. He communicated his design ty
Klmira, who received it, as now she did all things,
like a person too unhappy to be relieved or afilicted
by the circumstance of place. This unexpected re-
signation made Osmyn resolve to be as obliging to
N"' 53. TATLER. 113
her as possible ; and if he could not prevail upon
himself to be kind, he took a resolution at least to
act sincerely, and communicate frankly to her the
weakness of his temper, to excuse tlie indifference
of his behaviour. He disposed his houshold in t!ie
way to Rutland, so as he and his lady travelled only
in the coach, for the convenience of discourse.
They had not gone many miles out of town, when
Osmyn spoke to this purpose :
" My dear, I believe I look quite as silly now I
am going to tell you I do not love you, as when I
first told yoi: I did. We are now going into the
country together, with only one hope for making
this life agreeable, survivurship : desire is not in our
power; mine is all gone for you. What shall we
do to carry it with decency to the world, and hate
one another with discretion ?"
The lady answered, without the least observation
on the extravagance of his speech:
" My dear, you have lived most of your days in a
court, anil I have not been wholly unacquainted
with tliat sort of life. In courts, you seegoodwill
is spoken with great warmth, ill-will covered with
great civility. Men are long in civilities to those
they hate, and short in expressions of kindness to
those t'.iey love. Therefore, my dear, let us be
well-bred 'till ; and it is no matter, as to all who
see us, whether we love or hate : and to let you
see how much you are beholden to me for my con-
duct, f have Ixjth hated and despised you, my dear,
this half year; and yet neither in languiige or be-
haviour lias it been visibh^ but that I loved you ten-
derly. Therefore, as I know you go out of town
to divert life in pursuit of bca>^l3, and conversation
w ith men just abuve them ; so, my life, from this
moment, T shall read all the learned cooks who
have ever writ; study broths, plasters, and con-
L 3
114 TATLER. N" 53.
serves, until from a fine lady I become a notable
woman. We must take our minds a note or two
lower, or we shall be tortured by jealousy, or anger.
Thus, I am resolved to kill all keen passions, by
employing my mind on little subjects, and lessening
the easiness of my spirit ; while you, my dear, with
much ale, exercise, and ill company, are so good
as to endeavour to be as contemptible, as it is ne-
cessary for my quiet I should think you."
At Rutland they arrived, and lived with great but
secret impatience for many successive years, until
Osmyn thought of an happy expedient to give their
affairs a new turn. One day he took Elmira aside,
and spoke as follows :
" My dear, you see here the air is so temperate
and serene 5 the rivulets, the groves, and soil, so
extremely kind to nature, that we are stronger and
firmer in our health since we left the town ; so that
there is no hope of a release in this place : but if
you will be so kind as to go with me to my estate in
the hundreds of Essex, it is possible some kind damp
may one day or other relieve us. If you will con-
descend to accept of this offer, I will add that whole
estate to your jointure in this county."
Elmira, who was all goodness, accepted the offer,
removed accordingly, and has left her spouse in
that place to rest with his fathers.
This is the real figure in which Elmira ought to
be beheld in this town ; and not thought guilty of
an indecorum, in not professing the sense, or bear-
ing the habit of sorrow, for one who robbed her of
all the endearments of life, and gave her only com-
mon civility, instead of complacency of manners,
dignity of passion, and that constant assemblage of
soft desires and aflections, which all feel who love^
but none can express.
N 5 J. TATLER. Il5
IFiirs Coffee-house, August loi
Mr. Trumaiij who is a mighty admirer of dra
matic poetry, and knows I am about a tragedy, ne-
ver meets me, but he is giving admonitions and
hints for my conduct. " Mr. BickerstaffV said he,
' I was reading last night your second act you were
so kind to lend me : but I find you depend mightily
upon the retinue of your hero to make him magni-
ficent. You make guards, and ushers, and courtiers,
and commons, and nobles, march before ; and thea
enters your prince, and says, they cannot defend
him from his love. Why, prj'thee, Isaac, who
ever thought they could ? Place me your loving
monarch in a solitude, let him have no sense at all
of his grandeur, but lei it be eaten up with his
passion. He must value himself as the greatest of
lovers, not as the first of princes : and then let him
say a more tender thing than ever man said before-
fur hxa feather and eagle's beak are nothing at all.
The man is to be expressed by his sentiments and
aft'ections, and not by his fortune or equipage. You
are also to take care, that at his first entrance he
says something, which may give us an idea of what
we are to expect in a person of his way of thinking.
Shakspeare is your pattern. In the tragedy of
Cesar he introduces his hero in his night-gown.
He had at that time all the power of Rome : deposed
consuls, subordinate generals, and captive piinces
might have preceded himj but his genius was above
such mechanic methods of shewing greatness.
Therefore, he rather presents that great soul de-
bating upon the subject of life and deatli with his
intimate friends, without endeavouring to pre-
possess his audience with empty show and pomp.
Vvhcn those who attend him talk of the many omca9
which had appeared that day, h answers :
116 TATLER. NO 53.
** Cowards die many times before their deaths;
*' The valiant never taste of death but once.
** Of all the wonders tliat I yet have heaid,
** It seems to me most strange Mint men should fear ;
** Seeing that death, :i necessary end,
** Will come, when it will come."
" When the hero has spoken this sentiment, there
is nothing that is great, which cannot be expected
from one, whose lirst position is the contempt of
death to so high a degree, as to make hisexita t!)ing
wholly indirt'crent, and not a part of his care, biu
that of Heaven and fate."
St. James's Coffee- house, August lo.
Letters from Brussels, of the fifteenth instant,
K. S. say, that major-general Kavignan returned on
the eighth, with the French king's answer to the
intended capitulation for ijie citadel of Tournay ;
which is, that he does not think fit to sign that ca-
pituhiMon, except the allies will grant a cessation of
arms in general, during the time in which all ads of
hostility were to have ceased between the citadel
and the besiegers. Soon after the receipt of this
news, the cannon on each side began to play. There
are two attacks against the citadel, commanded by
general I.ottum and general Schuylemberg, wiiich
arc both carried on with great success; and it is not
doubted but the citadel will be in the hands of the
allies before the last day of this montli. Letters
from Ipres say, that, on the ninth instant, part of
the garrison of that place had mutinied in t\\ o
bodies, each consisting of two hundred ; who
being dispersed the same day, a body of eight
hundred appeared in the market-place at nine tiie
night following, and seized all manner of provisions,
but were with much di faculty quieted. The go-
vernor has not punished any of the offenders, the
N' 5t. TATLER. 117
dissatisfaction being universal in that place ; and it
is thought the oliicers foment those disorders, that
the ministry may be convinced of the necessity of
paying those troops, and sui)plylng them with pro-
visions. These advices add, that, on the fourteenth,
the marquis d'Este passed express through Brussels
from the duke of Savoy, with advice that die army
of his royal highness had forced the n trenchments
of the enemy in Savoy, and dcfeatcii tiiat body of
men which guarded those passes under the command
of the marquis de Thouy.
K= 54. SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1709,
^uJetjuid agunt htmints
n-ijlri ejl f^rrag'j lihfJU,
JUV. Sat.I. 85, 86.
Wlute'er men Jo, or say, or think, or dream,
Our moiley paper fcizes for its tlierae. P.
li^liUes Chocolate-house, Auguft 12.
Of the Government of Affection.
When labour was pronounced to be the portion of
man, that doom reached the aftVetions of his mind,
as well as his person, the matter on which he was
to feed, and all tlie animal and vegetable world about
him. There is, therefore, an assiduous care and
cultivation lo be bestowed upon our passions and
atllctioiis; for they, as they are the excrescences of
our souls, like our hair and beards, look horrid or
118 TATLER, N 54.
becoming, -as we cut, or let them grow. All this
grave preface is meant to assign a reason in nature
lor the unaccountable behaviour of Duumvir, the
husband and keeper. Ten thousand follies had this
unhappy man escaped, had he made a compact with
himself to be upon his guard, and not permitted his
vagrant eye to let in so many different inclinations
upon him, as all his days he has been perplexed
with. But indeed, at present, he has brought him-
self to be contined only to one prevailing mistress ;
betv/cen whom and his wife. Duumvir passes his
hours in all the vicissitudes which attend passion
and affection, without the intervention of reason.
Laura his wife, and Phillis his mistress, are all with
whom he has had, for sonic months, the least
amorous commerce. Duumvir has passed the noon
of life; but cannot withdraw from those entertain-
ments which arc pardonable only before that itagc
of our being, and which after that season are rather
punishments than satisfactions : for palled appetite
is humoaidus, and must be gratified with sauces
rather than food. For which end Duumvir is pro-
vided with an haughty, imperious, expensive, and
fantastic mistress, to whom he retires from the con-
ver.salion of an aftable, humble, discreet, and af-
fectionate wife. Lanra receives him after absence,
with an easy and unaffected complacency ; but that
he calls insipid : Phillis rales him for his absence,
and bids him return from whence hecaine; this he
calls spirit and tire: Laura's gentleness is thought
mean ; Phillls's insolence, sprightly. Were you to
see him at his own home, and his mistress's
lodgings; to Phillis he appears an obsequious lover,
to I.aura an imperious master. Nay, so unjust is
the taste of Duiunvir, that he owns I.aura has no ill
quality, but that she is his wife; Phillis no good
one, but that she is his mistress. And lie hi.s him-
N" 54. TATLER. 119
elf often said, were he married to any one else, he
would rather keep Laura than any woman hving j
yet allows, at the same time, that Phillis, were she
a woman of honour, would have been the most in-
sipid animal breathing. The other day Laura, who
has a voice like an angel, began to sing to him.
*' Fie, madam," he cried, " we must be past all
these gaieties." Phillis has a note as rude and as
loud as that of a milk-maid : when she begins to
warble, " Well," says he, " tJiere is such a pleasing
simplicity in all that wench does." In a word, the
atfcctionate part of his heart being corrupted, and
his true taste that way whtjlly lost, he has con-
tracted a prejudice to all the behaviour of Laura,
and a general partiality in favcnir of Phillis. It is
not in the power of the wife to do a pleasing thing,
nor in the mistress to commit one that is disagrre-
aMc. There is something too melancholy in tlie re-
flection on this circumstance, to be the subject of
raillery. He said a sour thing to Laura at dinner the
other day ; upon which she burst into tears. " What
the devil, madam," says he, " cannot I speak in
my own house ?" He answered Phillis a little
abruptly at supper the same evening, upon which
she threw his periwig into the fire." " Weil," said
he, " thou art a brave termagant jade : do you
know, hussy, that fair wig cost forty guineas ?"
Oh Laura! is it for this that the faithful Cromius
sighed for you in vain .' How is thy condition al-
tered, since crowds of youth hung on thy eve, and
watched its glances ? It is not many months since
Laura was the wonder and pride of her own sex, as
well as the desire and passion of ours. At plays and
at balls, the just turn of her bihaviour, the de-
cency of her virgin charms, chastised, yet added ro
diversions. At public devotions, her wmnmg mo-
desty, her resigned carriage, made virtue and re*
120 TATLER. N5t.
ligion nppear with new ornrments, and in the na-
tural apparel of simplicitv niid hcauty. In ordinary
conversations, a sweet ccniionnity ot manners, and
nn humility which hcighteijf'd all the complacencies
ot" good-breeding and education, gave her more
slaves than all the pride ot her sex ever made
women wish tor, Laura's hours are now spent in
the sad reflection on her choice, and that deceitful
vanity, aluiost inseparable from the sex, of be-
lieving she could reclaim one that had so often en-
snared others ; as it now is, it is not even in the
power of Duumvir himself to do her justice : for
though beauty and merit are things real and inde-
pendent on taste and opinion, yet agreeableness is
arbitrary, and the mistress has much the advantage
of the wife. But whenever fate is so kind to her
and her spouse as to end her days, wiili all this
passion for Phillis, and indiilerence for I, aura, he
lias a second wife in view, who may avenge the in-
juiies done to her predecessor. Aglaiira is the de-
stined lady, who has hved in assemblies, has am-
bition and play for her entertainment, and thinks of
a man, not as the object of love, but the tool of her
interest or pride. If ever Aglaura comes to the
empire of this inconstant, she will endear the me-
mory of her predecessor. But in the mean lime it
is melancholy to consider, that the virtue of a wife
is like the merit of a poet, never justly valued until
after death.
From my own apartment, August ii.
As we have professed that all the actions of men
are our subject, the most solemn are not to be
omitted, if there happens to creep into their be-
haviour any thing improper for such occasions.
Therefore the offence mentioned in the following
epistles^ though it may seem to be committed in k
K^ 54. TATLER. 121
place sacred from observation, is such, that it is our
duty to remark upon it : for though he. who does
it is himself only guilty of an indecorum, he oc-
casions a criminal levity in all others who are pre-
sent at it.
" Si. Paul's Church Yard, August ii*
" ISIr. BiCKERSTAFF,
" It being mine as well as tlie opinion of many
others, that your papers arc extremely well fitted to
reform any irregular or indecent practice, I present
the following as one which requires your correction.
Myself, and a great many good people whotrequent
the divine service at St. Paul's, have been a long
time scandalized by the imprudent conduct of
Stentor* in that cathedral. This gentleman, you
must know, is always very exact and zealous in his
devotion, which I believe nobody blames ; but then
he is accustomed to roar and bellow so terribly loud
in the responses, that he frightens e\en us of the
congregation who are daily used to him : and one
of our petty canons, a punning Cambridge scholar,
calls his way of worship a Bull-offering. His harsh
untuneable pipe is no more fit than a raven's to join
with the music of a ch lir ; yet, nobody having been
enough his friend, I suppose, to inform him of it j
he never fails, when present, to drown the har-
mony of every hymn and anthem, by an inundation
of sound beyond that of the bridge at the ebb of the
tide, or the neighbouring lions in the anguish of
their hunger. This is a grievance, which, to my
certain knowledge, several worthy people desire to
sec redressed ; and if, by inserting this epistle ia
your paper, or by representing the matter your own
* Dr. Wi.iJam Sunley, Dean of St. Paul's,
VOL. II. M
122 TATLER. N* 54.
way, you can convince Stentor, that discord in a
choir is the same sin tliat schism is in the church in
general, you would lay a great obligation upon us ;
and make some atonement for certain of your pa-
ragraphs, which have not been highly approved
by us. I am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Jeoffry Chanticleer.**
It is wonderful that there should be such a general
lamentation, and the grievance so frequent, and yet
the offender never know any tiling of it. I have
received the following letter from my kinsman at
the Heralds-office, near the same place.
" Dear Cousin,
" This office, which has had its share in the
impartial justice of your censures, demands at pre-
sent your vindication of their rights and privileges.
There arc certain hours when our young heralds are
exercised in the faculties of making proclamation,
and other vociferations, which of right belong to us
only to utter: but at the same hours Stentor in St.
Paul's Church, in spite of the coaches, carts, Lon-
don cries, and all other sounds between us, exalts
his throat to so high a key, that the most noisy of
our order is utterly unheard. If you please to ob-
serve upon this, you will ever oblige, &c."
There have been communicated to me some other
in consequences from the same cause ; as, the over-
turning of coaches by sudden starts of the horses as
they passed that way, women pregnant frightened,
and heirs to families lost ; which are public disasters,
though arising from a good intention ; but it is
hoped, after this admonition, that Stentor will
avoid an act of so great supererogation, as singing
without a voice.
H^ 55. TATtER. i23
But I am diverted from prosecuting Stentor's re-
formation, by an account, that the two faithful
lovers, Lisander and Coriana, are dead; for, no
longer ago than the first day of the last month, they
swore eternal fidelity to each other, and to love
until deatli. Ever since that time, Lisander his
been twice a day at the chocolate- house, visits in
every circle, is missing four hours in four-and-
twenty, and will give no account of himself. Tliese
are undoubted proofs of the departure of a lover j
and consequently Coriana is also dead as a mistress.
I have written to Stentor, to give this couple three
calls at the church-door, which they must hear if
they are living within the bills of mortality ; and if
they do not answer at that time, they are from that
moment added to the number of my defunct.
N55. TUESDAY, AUGUST 16, 1709.
Paulo m.tjoia canamut. VlUG. EcI. IV. I,
** Begin a loftier strain."
White's Chocolate-house, August i /J.
WnitE others are busied in relations which concern
the interest of princi^s, the peace of nations, and
revolutions of empire ; I think, though these are
very great subjects, my theme of discourse is some-
times to be of matters of a yet higher consideration.
7'he slow steps of providence and nature, and
strange events which are brought about in an iu-
M a
1 24 TATLER. N 55^
statit, arc what, as they come witliln our view and
cbservntion, shall be givtn to the public. Siidi
thhigs arc not accompanied with show and noise,
and therefore seldom draw the eyes of the unat-
tentive part of mankind ; but are very proper at
once to exercise our humanity, please our imagi-
nations, and improve our judgments. It may not,
therefore, be nnuseful to relate many circumstances,
wliicli were observable upon a late cure done upon
a young gentleman who v;as born blind, and on the
twenty-ninth of June Jast received his sight, at tho
age of twenty years, by the operation of an oculist.
This happened no farther off than Newington,
and the work was prepared for in the following
manner.
Tlie operator, Mr. Grant, having observed the
eyes of his patient, and convinced his friends an!
relations, among others the reverend Mr. Caswell,
minister of t!ie place, that it was highly probable
that he should remove the obstacle which prevented
the use of his sight; all his ac(|uaintance, who had
any regard for the young man, or curiosity to be
present when one of full age and understanding re-
ceived a new sense, assembled themselves on this
occasion, Mr. Caswell, being a gentleman parti-
cularly curious, desired the whole company, in case
the blindness should be cured, to keep silence : and
let the patient make his ow n observations, without
the direction of any thing he had received by his
other senses, or the advantage of discovering his
friends by their voices. Among several others, the
inother, breilnen, sisters, and a young gentlewoman
for whom he had a passion, were present. The
work was performed w ith great skill and dexterity.
When tlie patient first received the dawn of light,
there appeared such an ecstacy in his action, that he
seemed ready to sw oon away in the surprize of joy
N 55. TATLER. 125
and wonder. The surgeon .stood before him with
his instruments in his hands. The youn^ man ob-
served him from head to foot ; after which lie sur-
veyed himself as carefully, and seemed to compare
him to himself; and, observing both their hands,
seemed to think tliey were exactly alike, except the
instruments, which he took for parts of his hands.
When he had continued in this amazement some
time, his mother could not longer bear the agi-
tations of so many passions as thronged upon her j
but fell upon his neck, crying out, " My son ! my
son !" The youth knew her voice, and could speak
no more than, " Oh me ! are you my mother?" and
fainted. The whole room, you will easily conceive,
were very affectionately employed in recovering
him ; but, above all, tlie young gentlewoinan who
loved him, and whom he loved, shrieked in the
l;>udest manner. That voice seemed to have a sud-
den- clFcct upon him as he recovered, and he shewed
a double curiosity in observing her as she spoke and
riUrd to him; imlil. at last he broke out, " What
has been done to me ? Wiiither am I carried? Is
all this about me, the thing I have heard so often
of? is this the light r Is this seeing? Were you
always thus happy, when you said you were glad to
see each other? Where is Tom, who used to lead
me ? But I could now, methinks, go any where
without him." He offered to move, but seemed
afraid of every thing around him. When they saw
his difficulty, they told him, " until he became
better acquainted with his new being, he must let
the servant still lead him." The boy was called for,
and presented to him. Mr. Caswell asked him,
" what sort of thing he took Tom to be before he
had seen him ?" He answered, " he believed there
was not so much of him as himself ; but he fancied
him tlicsame sort of creature.'' The noise of this
M 3
126 TATLER. N' 55.
sudden change made all the neighbourhood throng
to the place where he ^ca3. As he saw the crowd
thickening, he desired Mr. Caswell to tell hina how
many there were in all to be seen. The gentleman,
smiling, answered him, that " it would be very
proper tor him to return to his late condition, and
sufi'er his eyes to be covered, until they had received
strength : for he might remember well enough, tliat
by degrees he had from little and little come to the
strength he had at present in his ability of walking
and moving ; and that it was the same thing with
his eyes, which," he said, " would lose the power
of continuing to him that wonderful transport he
was now in, except he would be contented to lay
aside the use of them, until they were strong
enough to bear the light without so much feeling as,
he knew, he underwent at present." With much
reluctance he was prevailed upon to have his eyes
bound j in which condition they kept him in a dark
room, until it was proper to let the organ receive its
objects without further precaution. During the
time of this darkness, he bewailed himself in the
most distressed manner ; and accused all his friends,
complaining that " some incantation had been
wrought upon him, and some strange magic used to
deceive him into an opinion that he had enjoyed what
they called sight." He added, " that the im-
pressions then let in upon his soul would certainly
distract him, if he were not so at that present."
J^t another time, he would strive to name the per-
sons he had seen among the crowd after he was
couched, and would pretend to speak, in perplexed
terms of his own making, of what he in that short
time observed. But on the sixth instant it was
thought iit to unbind his head, and the young wo-
man whom he loved was instructed to open his eyes
accordingly j as well to endear herself to him by
N'55. TATLER. I2t
such a circumstance, as to moderate his ecstacies
by the persuasion of a voice which had so much
power over him as hers ever had. When this be-
loved young ^voman began to take off the binding
of his eyes, she talked to him as follows :
" Mr. William, I am now taking the binding off",
though, when I consider what I am doing, I trem-
ble with the apprehension, that, though I have
from my very childhood loved you, dark as you
were, and thoi;gh you had conceived so strong a
love for me, you will find tliere is such a thing as
beauty, which may ensnare you into a thousand
passions of which you are now innocent, and take
you from me for ever. But, before I put myself to
that hazard, tell me in what manner that love, you
always professed to me, entered into your heart ; for
its usual admission is at the eyes."
The young man answered, " Dear Lidia, if I am
to lose by sight the soft pantings which I have ahvays
felt when I heard your voice ; if I am no more to
distinguish the step of her I love when she ap-
proaches me, but to change that sweet and frequent
pleasure for such an amazement as I knew the little
time 1 lately saw j or if I am to have any thing be-
sides, which may take from me the sense I have of
"what appeared most pleasing to mc at that time,
which apparition it seems was you ; pull out these
cyts, before they lead me to be ungrateful to you,
or undo myself. 1 wished for them but to see you j
pull them out, if they are to make me forget you."
Lidia was extremely satistied witli these assu-
rances } and pleased herself with playing with his
perplexities. In all his talk to her, he shewed but
very faint ideas of any thing which had not been
received at the ears ; and closed his protestation to
her, by saying, that if he were to see Valentia and
Barcelona, whom he supposed the most esteemed of
128 TATLER. 11=55.
all women, by the quarrel there was about them, he
would never like any but Lidia.
St. James's Coffee-house, August 15.
We have repeated advices of the entire defeat of
the Swedish army near Pultowa, on the twenty-
seventii of June, O. S. and letters from Berlin give
the following account of the remains of the Swedish
army since the battle; prince Menzikoff, being or-
dered to pursue the victory, came up with the Swe-
dish army, which was left to the command of ge-
neral Lewcnhaupt, on the thirtieth of June, O. S.
on the banks of the Boristhenes , whereupon he
sent general Lewenhaupt a summons to submit him-
self to his present fortune: Lewenhaupt immedi-
ately dispatched three general officers to that prince,
to treat about a capitulation ; but the Swedes,
though they consisted of lifteen thousand men, were
in so great want of provision and ammunition, that
they were obliged to surrender themselves at dis-
cretion. His Czarish majesty dispatched an express
to general Goltz, with an account of these parti-
culars, and also with instructions to send out de-
tachments of his cavalry, to prevent the king of
Sweden's joining his army in Poland. That prince
made his escape with a small party by swimming
over the Boristhenes ; and it was thought he de-
signed to retire into Poland by the way of Voir
hinia. Advices from Bern of the eleventh instant
say, that the general diet of the Helvetic body held
at Baden concluded on the sixth ; but the deputies
of the six cantons, who are deputed to determine
the afiair of Tockenburg, continue their application
to that business, notwithstanding some new dith-
culties started by the abbot of St. Gall. Letters
from Geneva, of the ninth, say, that the duke ot
Savoy's cavalry had joined count Thaun, as had
N" 55. TATLER^ 129
alsj two imperial regiments of hussars J and that his
royal highness's army was disposed in the following
nKinner : the troops under the command of cx)unt
Th:mn are extended from Contlans to St. Peter
J)"A'ibigni. Small parties are left in several posts
ironi thence to Little St. Bernard, to preserve the
communication with Piedmont by the \A\cy of
Aosta. Some forces are also posted at Taloir, and
in the castle of Doin, on each side of the lake of
Anneci. (General Rhebinder is encamped in the
valley of Oulx with ten thousand foot, and some
detachments of horse : his troops are extended from
Kxilles to mount Gencvrc, so that he may easily
penetrate into Dauphinc on the least motion of the
enemy ; but the duke of Berwick takes all nects-
snry precautions to prevent such an enterprize.
That general's head quarters are at Francin ; and
he halh disposed his army in several parties, to pre-
serve a connnunication with the Mauiienne and
Briunfjon. He hath no provisions for his army but
iVoni Savoy 5 Provence and ])auphinc being unable-
to supply him with necessaries. He left two regi-
ments of dragoons at Annen, who suftered very
much in the late action at Te^sons, where they loat
iiiieen hundred, who were killed on the spot, four
standards, and three hundred prisoners, among
whom were forty officers. The last letters Irom the
duke of Marlborough's camp at (Jrcliies, of the.
nineteenth instimt, advise, that JNTonsieur Uaviguoii
being rt luriutd from the French court with an ac-
count that the king of France had refused to ratify
the lapitulation for the surrender ol the citadel of
'i'ournay, the approaches havi- been carried on wiili
great vigour and success; our miners have disco-
vered several of the enemy's mines, who have
.sprung divirs others, whiih did little CNecutinn ;
but, for the better security of the troops, both
130 TATLER. K56.
assaults are carried oil by the cautions way of sap-
ping. On the eighteenth, the confederate army
made a general forage without any loss. Marshall
Villars continues in his former camp, and applies
himself with great diligence in casting up new \iuvs
behind the old on the IScarp. The duke of Marf-
borough and prince Eugene designed to begin a ge-
neral review of tlie army on the twentietli.
N*^. THURSDAY, AUGUST 18, 1709.
^Uquid agunt homines
Mitri est farrago Hbelli.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Whatever good is done, wbatevtr ill
By human kind, stiall this collection fill.
IVtiites Chocolate' house, August 17.
There is a young foreigner committed to my care,
who puzzles me extremely in the questions he asks
about the persons of figure we meet in public
places. He has but very little of our language, and
therefore I am mightily at a loss to express to him
things for which they have no word in that tongue
to which he was born. It has been often my an-
wcr, upon his asking who such a fine gentleman
is) r That he is what we call a Sharper : and he wants
my explication. J thought it would be very unjust
to tell him, he is the same the French call Coguin i
K" 56. TATLER. 11
the Latins Nelulo ; or tlie Greeks, VtivKei\
SL& custom is the most powerful of all laws, and
tliat the order of men we call Sharpers are received
amongst us, not only with permission, but favour,
I thought it unjust to use them like persons upon
no establishment ; besides that it would be an un-
pardonable dishonour to our country, to let him
leave us with an opinion, thot our nobility and gentry
keep company with common thieves and cheats : I
told him, " they were a sort of tame Hussars, that
were allowed in our cities, like the wild ones in our
camp ; who had all the privileges belonging to us,
but at the same time were not tied to our discipline
or laws." Aletheus, who is a gentleman of too
much virtue for the age he lives in, would not let
this mattt^r be thus palliated} but told my pupil,
*' that he was to understand that distinction, qua-
fity, merit, nnd industry, were laid aside among us
bv the incursions of tliese civil hussars ; who had
got so much countenance, that the breeding and
fashion of the age turned their way to tlie ruin of
order and ceconomy in all places where they are ad-
mitted." But Sophronius, who never falls into heat
ujx)n any subject, but applies proper language, tcm-
j>cr, and skill, with which the thing in debate is to
be treated, told the youth, " that gentleman had
spoken nothing but what was literally true ; but fell
upon it with t(X) much earnestness to give a true idea
of that sort of people he was declaiming against, or
to remedy the evil which he bewailed : for the ac-
ceptance of these men being an ill which had crept
into the conversation-part of our lives, and not into
our constitution itself, it must be corrected where it
began : and consequently is to be amended only by
bringing raillery and derittion upon the persons who
* The word " rascal," printed in Greek characters.
132 TATLER. K' 5G.
arc guilty, or those who converse with them. For
the Sl)arpeis," continued he, " at present are not as
formerly, under the acceptation of pick-pockels ;
but arc by custom erected into a real and venerable
body of men, and have subdued us to so very parti-
cular a deference tothem, that though they are known
to be men without honour or conscience, no demand
is called a debt of honour so indisputably as theirs.
You may lose your honour to them, but they lay
none agiunst you: as the priesthood in Roman ca-
tholic countries can purchase what they please for
the church, but they can alienate nothing from it.
It is from this toleration, that Sharpers are to be
found among all sorts of assemblies and companies;
and every talent amongst men is made use of by
some one or other of the society, for the good of
their common cause : so that an unexperienced
young gentleman is as often ensnared by his under-
standing as his folly ; for who could be unmoved,
to Ik ar the elocpjent Dromio explain the consti-
tution, talk in the key of Cato, with the severity of
one of the antient sages, and debate the greatest
question of state in a common chocolate or coffee-
house ? who could, I say, hear this generous de-
clamator, without being tired at his noble zeal, and
becoming his professed follower, if he might be ad-
mitted ? Monocuius's gravity would be no less in-
viting to a beginner in conversation ; and tlie snare
of his eloquence would equally catch one who had
never seen an old gentleman so very wise, and yet
so little severe. Many other instances of extraor-
dinary men among the brotherhood might be pro-
xlueed; but every man, who knows the town, can
supply himself with such examples without their
being named." Will Vafer, who is skilful at find-
ing out the ridiculous side of a thing, and placing it
ill a new and proper light, though lie very seldom
N 56. TATLER. 133
tiilks, thouglit fit to enter into this subject. He
lins lattly lost certain loose sums, which half the in-
come ot" iiis estate will bring in within seven years,:
besides which, he jiroposes to marry, to set all
right. He was, therrtbre, indolent enough to speak,
ot" this matter with great impartiality. " When I
l(X)k around nie," s:iid this easy gentleman, " and
consider in a just balance us liiH/fs, elder brothers,
whose support our dull tathers contrived to depend
upon certain acres, with the rooks, w hose ancestors
left them the wide world ; I cannot but admire
their fraternity, and contemn my own. ]s not Jack
Heyday much to be preferred to the Knight he has
bu!)bled ? Jack has his equipage, his wenches, and
his followers : the Knight, .so far from a retinue,
that he is almost one of Jack's. However, he is
gay, you see, still ; a florid outside. His habit
si]K"aks the man And since h must unbutton, he
vuuld not be reduced outwardly, but is .stripped to
his upper coat. But though 1 iiave great temptation
to it, I will not at this time give the history of the
loiing side ; but speak the elfeets of my thoughts,
kince the loss (;f my money, upon the gaining peo-
ple. 'I'his ill fortune makes most men contem-
plative and given to reading ; at least it lias hap-
pened so to me } and the rise and fall of the family'
of Sharpers in all ages has been my contem-
plation."
1 rind, all times have had of this people: Homer,
ill his excellent heroic poem, calls them Myrmi-
dons, who were a body that kept among them-
selves, and had nothing to lose ; therefore never
spared either Greek or Trojan, when they fell in
their wav, upon a party. Hut there is a memorable
verse, w hich gives us an account of what broke that
whole body, and made both Greeks and Troian*
masters of the Kccrct of tlu ir warfare and pku.der.
Vuj.. 11. N
13* TATLER, N" 56.
There is nothing so pedantic as many quotations ;
therefore I shall inform you only, that in this bat-
talion tliere were two officers called Thersites and
Pandarus : they were both less renowned for tlieir
beauty than their wit j but each had this particular
happiness, that they were plunged over head and
ears in the same water which made Achilles invul-
nerable ; and had ever after certain gifts, which the
rest of the world were never to enjoy. Amcnig
others, they were never to know they were the most
dreadful to the sight of all mortals, never to be dif-
fident of their own abilities, never to blush, or ever
to be wounded but by each other. Though some
historians say, gaming began among the Lydians
to divert hunger, I could cite many authorities to
trove it had its rise at the siege of Troy; and that
riysses won the sevenfold shield at hazard. But
be that as it may, the ruin of the corps of the Myr-
midons proceeded from a breach between Thersites
and Pandarus. The first of these was leader of a
squadron, whereiti the latter was but a private
man ; but having all the good qualities necessary
for a partisan, he was the favourite of his otHcer.
But the whole history of the several changes in the
order of Sharpers, from those Myrmidons to our
modern men of address and plunder, will require
that we consult some antient manuscripts. As we
make these inquiries, we shall diurnally commu-
nicate them to the public, tliat the Knights of the
Industry may be better understood by the good peo-
ple of England. These sort of men, in some ages,
were sycophants and flatterers only, and were en-
dued with arts of life to capacitate them for the
conversation of the rich and great; but now the
bubble courts the impostor, and pretends at the ut-
most to be but his equal. To clear up the reasons
and causes iu such revolutions^ and the dift'erent
1J 56. TATLER. 135
conduct between fools and cheats, shall be one of
our labours for the good of this kingdom. How
therefore pimps, footmen, lidlers, and lacqueys,
are elevated .into companions in this present age,
sliall be accounted for from the influence of the
pinuet Mercury on this island j the ascendency of
Avhich Sharper over Sol, who is a patron of the
Muses and all honest professions, has been noted by
the learned Job Gadbury *, to be the cause, that
" cunning and trick are more esteemed than art and
science." It must be allowed also, to the memory
of Mr. Partridge, late of Cecil-street, in the
Strand, that in his answer to an horar)' question.
At what hour of the night to set a fox-trap in June
17015 ? he has largely discussed, under the cha-
racter of Reynard, the manner of surprising all
Sharpers as well as him. But of these great point*,
after more mature deliberation.
St. James's Coffee-house, August 17.
" To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq.
*' Sir,
*' We have nothing at present new, but that we
understand by some Owlcrs f, old people die in
France. I^^tters from Paris, of the tenth instant,
N. S. say, that Monsieur d'Andre, Marquis d'Orai-
son, died at eighty-five : Monsieur Brumars, at one
hundred and two years, died for love of his wife,
wlio was ninety-two at her death, after seventy
ycarw cohabitation. Nicholas de Bouthciller, parish-
prciichcr of Sasscvillc, being a bachelor, held out to
GaJbnry was an almsn.ick-mnker, an astrologer.
f Ovvler signifies one who carries coiitrabano g\>oil?; the
void is perli.ips ilerivcd fiom the necessity uf c^nyingonan
illicit trade by iiiglit.
N a
136 TATLER. n 56'
one hundred and sixteen. Dame Claud de Massy,
relict of Monsieur Peter de jSIoiuvaux, Grand Aii-
diencer ot France, died on the seventeenth, aged
one hundred and seven. Letters ot" the seventeenth
say, Monsieur Cluestien de Lamoignon died on tlie
seventh instant, a person of great piety and virtue j
but having died young, his age is coneeajcd for rea-
sons of state. On the fifteenth, his Most Christian
Majesty, attended by the Dauphin, the duke of
Burgundy, the duke and dutchess of Berry, assisted
at the procession which he yearly performs in me-
mory of a vow made by Lewis the Thirteenth, in
1638. For which act of piety, his JVIajesty received
absolation of his confessor, for the breach of all in-
convenient vows made by himself. I am. Sir, your
most humble servant,
" Humphrey Kidnfy."
From my own Apartment, j4vgnst ly.
I am to acknowledge several letters which I linve
lately received ; among others, one subscribed Phi-
lanthropos, another Emilia, both which shall be
honoured. I have a third from an oriiccr in the
army, wherein he desires 1 would do justice to the
many gallant actions which have been done by men
of private characters, or officers of lower stations,
during this long war ; that their families may have
the pleasure of seeing we lived in an age, wherein
men of all orders had th^-ir proper share in fame
and glory. Ihere is nothing I should undertake
with greater pleasure than matters of this kintl ;
if tiierefore tiny, who are actjuainted with such
facts, would please to conmiunicate ihtm, by let-
ters directed to nic at Mr. Morplunv s, no pains
should be spared to put ihcui in a proper and dis-
tinguishing light.
N^ 57. TATLER. 13T
*^* This is to adraonisli Stentor, that it was
not admiration of his voice, but my publicatioa
of it, which has lately increased t^e number of hU
liearcrs.
N' 57. SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1709.
^i!cquid ngunt bominfi
noilri ett farrago libclli,
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
^.Vli.itffver Eor>iI is Jone, ivbatever ill
By hum-id kind, shall tins collection fill.
in Its Ci>Oy:>housc, yl II gust 19.
I WAS this evening representing a complaint sent
me out ot' the r uinitry from Kmilia. Slie says, her
Dcighhoiirs t!u-re have so little sense of what a re-
fined lady of the town is, that she, who was a ce-
lcl)ralcd wit in London, is in that dull part of the
world in so little esteem, that thev call her in their
base style a Tdngue-pnd. Old Truepenny bid me
advise her to keep her wit until sh(; comes to town
again, and admonish her, that both wit and breed-
ing are local ; for a tine court-lady is as aukward
among country housewives, as one of them would
appear in a drawing-room. It is therefore the
ino^t useful knowledge one; can attain at, to under-
stand among what sort of men we make the hesc
ligure ; for if there be a place where tlie beauteous
and accomplished Kniilia is unacceptable, it is ccr-
N 3
13S TATLER. NO 57.
tainly a vain endeavour to attempt pleasing in all
conversations Here is Will Ubi, who is so tliirsty
after the reputation of a companion, that his com-
pany is for any body that will accept of it ; and fbf
vant of knowing whom to choose for hiniself, is
never chosen by others. There is a certain chastity
of behaviour which makes a man desirable ; and
which if he transgresses, his wit will have the same
fate with Delia's beauty, which no one regards, be-
caase all know it is within their power. The best
course Emilia can take is, to have less humility ;
for if she could have as good an opinion of herself
for having every quality, as seme of her neighbours
have of themselves with one, she would inspire even
them with a sense of her merit, and make that
carriage, which is now the subject of their derision,
the sole object of their imitation. Until she has
arrived at this value of herself, she must be con-
tented with the fate of that uncommon creature, a
Woman too humble.
IVhitcs Chocolate-house, August ig.
Since my last, I have received a letter from Tom
Trump, to desire that I would do the fraternity of
gamesters the justice to own, that there are noto-
rious Sharpers, who are not of their class. Among
others he presented me with the picture of Harry
Coppersmith, in little, who, he says, is at this day
worth half a plumb *, by means much more indirect
flian by false dice. I must confess, there appeared
some reason in what he asserted) and he met me
since, and accosted me in the following manner :
" It is wonderful to me, Mr. Bickerstifl", that you
can pretend to be a man of penetration, and fall
upon us Knights of the Industry as the wickedesk
* A Plumb it a terai in the city for . 1 00,000.
N 57. TATLER, 139,
of mortals, when there are so many who live in the
constant practice of baser methods unobserved. You
cannot, though you know the story of myself and
the North Briton, but allow I am an honester man
than Will Coppersmith, for all his great credit
among the Lombards. I get my money by men's
follies, and he gets his by their distresses. The de-
clining merchant communicates his griefs to him,
and he augments them by extortion. If, therefore,
reg:ird is to be had to tlie merit of the persons we
injure, who is the more blameable, he that op-
presses an unhappy man, or he that cheats a foolish
one ? All mankind are indifferently liable to adverse
strokes of fortune ; and he who adds to them,
when he might relieve them, is certainly a worse
subject, than he who unburdens a man whose pros-
perity is unwieldy to him. Besides all which, he
that borrows of Coppersmith does it out of ne-
cessity ; he that plays with me docs it out of
choice."
I allowed Trump there are men as bad as him-
self, which is the height of his pretensions : and
must confess, that Coppersmith is the most wicked
and impudent of all Sharpers : a creature that cheats
with credit, and is a robber in the habit of a friend.
'Jhe contemplation of this worthy person made me
reflect on the wonderful successes I have observed
men of the meanest capacities meet witli in the
world, and recollect an observation I once heard a
sage man make ; which was, " That he had ob-
served, tliat in some professions, the lower the un-
derstanding, the greater the capacity." I remem-
ber, he instanced that of a banker, and said, that
" the fewer appetites, passions, and ideas a man
had, he was the better for his business."
There is little Sir Tristram, without connexion
in his speech, or so much as comniun sense, has
140 TATLER. N'' 57.
arrived by his own natural parts at one of the
greatest estates amongst us. Eiit honest Sir Tris-
tram knows himself to be but a repository for cash:
lieis just such an utensil as his iron chest, and may
rather be said to hold money, than possess it. There
is nothing so pleasant as to be in the conversation of
these wealthy proficients. I had lately the h(jnour
to drink half a pint with Sir Tristram, Harry Cop-
persmith, and Giles Twoshoes. These wags gave
one another credit in discourse, according to their
purses; they jest by the pound, and make answers
as they honour bills. Without vanity, 1 thougiit
myself the prettiest fellow of the company ; but 1
had no manner of power over one muscle in ihrir
faces, though they smirked at every word spoken
by each other. Sir Tristram called for a pipe of
tobacco; and telling us " tobacco was a pot-herb,"
bid the drawer bring him the other half pint.
Twoshoes laughed at the Knight's wit without mo-
deration ; I took the liberty to say it was but a
pun." " A pun !" s;iid Coppersmith ; "you would
be a better man by ten thousand pounds if you could
pun like Sir Tristram." With that they all burst
out together. The queer curs maintained this style
of dialogue until we had drunk our quart a-piece by
half-pints. All I could bring away with me is,
that Twoshoes is not worth twenty thousand pounds :
for his mirth, though he was as insipid as either of
the others, had no more effect upon the company
than if he had been a bankrupt.
From my own Apartment, August 19.
I have heard, it has been advised by a Diocesan
to his inferior clergy, that, instead of broaching
opinions of their own, and uttering doctrines which
may lead themselves and hearers into error, they
would read some of the most celebrated sermons^
K"" 57. TATLER. 141
printed by others for the instruction of their con-
gregations. In imitation of such preachers at se-
cond-iiand, I shall transcribe from Bruyere one of
the most elegant pieces of raillery and satire which I
iiave ever read. He descril)es the French as if
speaking of a people not yet discovered, in the air
and style of a traveller.
" I have heard talk of a country, where the old
men are gallant, polite, and civil : the young men,
on the contrary, stubborn, wild, without either
manners or civility. They are free from passion for
women at the age when in other countries they be-
gin to 'fc(;l it ; and prefer beasts, victuals, and ridi-
culous amours before them. Amongst these people,
he is sober who is never drunk with any thing but
wine J the too frequent use of it having rendered it
tlat and insipid to them : They endeavour by bran-
dy, and other strong liquors, to quicken tlieir taste,
jilready extinguished, and want nothing to complete
their debauches, but to drink aqua-fortis. The
women of that country hasten the decay of tlieir
beauty, by their artifices to preserve it : they paint
their checks, eyebrows, and shoulders, which they
lay open, together witli their breasts, arras, and
ears, as if they were afraid to hide those places
which tliey think will please, and never think they
show enough of them. The physiognomies of the
people of that country are not at all neat, but con-
fused and embarrassed with a bundle of strange hair,
which ihcy prefer before their natural : with this
tliey weave something to cover their heads, which
descends down half wjy their bodies, hides their
features, :md hinders you from knowing men by
th'ir fac s. Tliis nation has, besides this, their
(iod ami tlieir king. TIk; grandees go every day,
at a le.itain lunir, ton tiuiple they call a church:
ai the up[)er end oi that temple there stands an
142 TATLER. N" 57.
altar consecrated to their God, tvhrrf the prirst ce-
lebrates some mysteries which they call holy, sa-
cred, and tremendous. The great n)cn make a vast
circle at the foot of the altar, standing \s ith their
backs to the priest and the holy mysteries, and their
faces erected towards their king, who is seen on his
knees upon a throne, and to whom tliey seem to
direct the desires of their hearts, and all their de-
votion. However, in this custom, there is to be
remarked a sort of snbordinaticn ; for the people
ai)pear adoring their prince, and their prince iidoring
God. The inhabitants of this region call it
It is from forty-eight degrees of latitude, and more-
than eleven hundred leagues by sea, from the
Iroquois and Hurons."
Letters from Hampstead say, there is a coxcomb
arrived there, of a kind which is utterly new. The
fellow has courage, which he takes himself to be
obliged to give proofs of every hour he lives. He is
ever fighting with lh(? men, and contradicting the
women. A lady, who sent to me, superscribed him
witla this description out of Suckling :
I am a man of wat and might,
' Am! know tSuis much that I can tight,
*' Whether I am i\h' wrong or right,
" Devoutly.
" No woman under Heaven I fejr,
New oaths 1 can exactly swear ;
** And folly liealths my brain will bear,
' Most stoutly.**
S" 58. TATLER. 143
N^ 58. TUESDAY, AUGUST 23, 1709.
^t'rtquiJ agunl bom net
iKitri nt farrago lihelll.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
WhateVr men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our moilsy paper seizes for its ctienie. P.
Uliites Chocolate-house, August 22.
Poor Cynthlo, who does me the honour to talk to
nic now and then very tVeely of his most secret
thoughts, and tells mc his most private frailties,
owned to me, tljat though he is in his very prime
of life, love had killed ail his desires, and, he was
now as much to be trusted witli a fme lady, as if he
were eighty. " That one passion for Clarissa has
taken up," said he, " my whole soul ; and ail my
idle iiamc:; ant extinguished, as you may observe or-
dinary tires are often put out by the sun-shine."
This was a declaration not to be made but upon
the highest opinion of a man's sincerity j yet as
much a subject of raillery as such a speech would
be, it is certain, that chastity is a nobler quality,
and as much to be valued in men as in women.
The mighty Scipio, * who," as Bluffe says iu the
comedy, " was a pretty fellow in his time," wa^ of
this mind, and is celebrated for ii by an author of
good sense. When he lived, wit, and humour,
and raillery, and public success, were at as higli a
pilch at Rome, as at present in England ; yet, 1 be-
lic\ c, there was no man in those days thought that
144 TATLER. N' 5.
general at all ridiculous in his behaviour in the lol-
lowing account ot him.
Scipio, at tuur-and twenty years of age, had ob-
tained a great victory ; and a muliitude vt j)risoner.s,
of each sex, and all conditions, fell into liis pos-
session : among others, an agreeable virgin in lur
early bloom and beauty. He had too sensible a spi-
rit to seethe, most lovely of all objects without being
moved with passion : besides which, there m as no
obligation of honour or virtue to restrain his desires
towards one who was his by the fortune of war.
But a noble indignation, and a sudden sorrow,
which appeared in her countenance, when the con-
queror cast his eyes upon her, raised his curiosity to
know her story. He was informed, that she was
a lady of the highest condition in that country, and
contracted to Indibilis, a man of merit and quality.
The generous Roman soon placed himself in the
condition of that unhappy man, who was to lose so
charming a bride; and thougli a youth, a bachelor,
a lover, and a conqueror, immediately resolved to
resign all the invitations of his passion, and the rights
of his power, to restore her to her destined hus-
band. With this purpose he conmianded her pa-
rents and relations_, as well as her husband, to at-
tend him at an appointed time. When they met,
and were waiting for the general, my author frames
to himself the different concern of an unhappy fa-
ther, a despairing lover, and a tender mother, in
the several persons who were so related to the cap-
tive. But, for fear of injuring the delicate cir-
cumstances with an old translation, I shall proceed
to tell you, that Scipio appears to them, and leads in
iiis prisoner into their presence. The Romans, as
noble as ifiey were, seemed to allow then5selve> a
little too much triumph over the conquered : there-
N^ 58. TATLER. -145
fore, as Scipio approached, they all threw them-
scU'es on their knees, except the lover of the Jady :
bin Scipio observing in him a manly sullenness, was
tiie more inclined to favour him, and spoke to him
in these words :
" It is not the manner of the Romans to use all
the power tliey justly may: we fight not to ravage
comitrics, or break through the ties of humanity. I
am acqiuiiiitcd w ith your worth, and your interest
in this lady : fortune has made me your master;
but I desire to be your friend. This is your wife ;
take her, and may tlie gods bless you with her !
Bat. f.ir be it from Scipio to purchase a loose and
mnniciitary pleasure at the rate of making an honest
UKUi unhappy.''
lndlbilis"s heart was too full to make him any
answer ; but he threw himself at tlie feet of the ge-
neral, and wept aloud. The captive lady fell into
the same posture, and they both remained so, until
the failier burst into tlie following words : " O di-
vine Scipio ! l!ie gods have given you more than hu-
uj.in virtue. O glorious leader ! O wondrous youth !
docs not that obliged virgin give you, while slie
prays to the gods for your prosperity, and thinks
you sent down from them, raptures, above all the
transports which you could have reaped from the
possession of her injured person r" The temperate
Scipio answered hitn without much emotion, and,
s:iying, "Father, be a friend to Rome," retired. An
immense sum was offered as her ransom j but he sent
it to her husband, and, smiling, said, " This is a
trifle after what I have given him already ; but let
hidibilis know, that chastity at my age is a much
more dirficult virtue to jiractise than gttierosity."
I observed Cynthio was very much taken with my
narrative; but told mc, "this was a virtue that
would bear but a very inconsiderable ligure in our
VOL. 11. o
146 TATLER. N* 58.
days." However, I took the liberty to say, that
" we ought not to lose our ideas of things, though
we bad debauched our true relish in our practice,
for, after we have done laughing, solid virtue will
keep its place in men's opinions: and though cus-
tom made it not so scandalous as it ought to be, to
ensnare innocent women, and triumph in the false-
hood ; such actions, as we have here related, must
be accounted true gallantry, and rise the higher in
our esteem, tlie farther they are removed from our
imitation."
IFilts Coffee-house, August 22.
A man would be apt to think, in this laughing
town, that it were impossible a thing so exploded
as speaking hard words should be practised by any
one that had ever seen good company 5 but, as if
there were a standard in our minds as well as bodies,
you see very many just where they were twenty
years ago, and more they cannot, will not arrive at.
Were it not thus, the noble Martins would not be
the only man in England whom nobody can under-
stand, though he talks nrore than any man el^e.
Will Dactyle theepigranimatist. Jack Comma the
grammarian, Nick Cr)ss-grain who writes ana-
grams, and myself, made a pretty company at a
corner of this room ; and entered very peaceably
upon a sv.bject fit enough for us, which was, the
examination of the force of the particle For, when
Maitiu.-> joined us. He, bung well known to us
all, a->ked " what we were upon .' for he had a
mii.d to consummate the happiness of the day,
vhich had been apent among the .'^'..ars of the first
wrgniiude, ainonfl; the men ot letters; and there-
fore, to put a period to it ns he had commenced it,
lie sho'ild be glnd to be allowed to participate of the
pleasure of our society." I told him llie subject.
U" .58. TATLER. 14T
" Faith, gentlemen," said Marlins, '* your subject
is humble ; and if you will give me leave to elevate
the conversation, I should humbly offer^ that you
would enlarge your inquiries to the word For-as-
much ; for though I take it," said he, ** to be but
one word, yet the particle Much implying quantity,
the particle As similitude, it will be greater, and
more like ourselves, to treat of For-as-much." Jack
Comma is always serious, and answered j Martins,
1 must take the liberty to say, that you have fallen
into all this error and profuse manner of speech by
a certain hurry in your imagination, for want of
being more exact in the knowledge of the parts of
speech ; and it is so with all men who have not well
studied the particle For. You have spoken For
without making any inference, which is the great
use of that particle. There is no manner of force
in your observation of quantity and similitude in the
syllables As and Much. But it is ever the fault of
men of great wit to be incorrect ; which evil they
run into by an indiscreet use of the word For.
Consider all the books of controver.sy which have
been written, and I will engage you will observe,
that all the debate lies in this point, Whether they
brought in For in a just manner ; or forced it in for
their own use, rather than as understanding the use
of the word itself ? There is nothing like familiar
instances : you have heard the story of the Irishman,
who reading, ' Money for live hair,' took a lodging,
and expected to be paid for living at that house.
If this man had known. For was in that place of a
quite different signification from the particle To,
he could not have fallen into the mistake of taking
Live for what the Latins call rivere, or ratlier
Ha hit art'."
Martins seemed at a loss; and, admiring his pro-
found learning, wished he had been bred a scholar.
143 TATLER. K" 5S
for he did not take the scope of his discourse. 1 his
vise dfbate, of which we had much more, made
me reflect upon the difference of their capacities,
and wonder that there could be as it were a diver-
sity in mt n's genius for ronsense ; that one should
bluster, while another crept, in absurdities, Mar-
tius moves like a blind man, lifting his legs higher
than the ordinary way of stepping ; and Comma,
like one who is only short-sighted, picking his way
when he should be marching on. Want of learning
makes Martins a brisk entertaining fool, and gives
him a full scope ; but that which Comma has, and
calls learning, makes him diffident, and curbs his
natural misunderstanding to the great loss of the
men of raillery. 1 his conversation confirmed me
in the opinion, that learning usually does but im-
prove in us what nature endowed us with, fie that
wants good sense is unhappy in having learning,
for he has thereby only more ways of exposing hiin-
self ; and he that has sense knows that learning is
not knowledge, but rather the art of using it.
St. James s Coffee-house, August 22.
We have undoubted intelligence of the defeat of
the king of Sweden ; and that prince, who for some
years had hovered like an approaching tempest, and,
was looked up ai by all the nations of Europe, which
seemed to expect thtir fate according to the course
he should take, is now, in all probability, an un-
happy exile, without the common necessaries of
life. His Czarish n)ajesiy treats his prisoners with
great gallantry and distinction. Count Rhensfeildt
has liad particular marks of his majesty's esteem,
for his merit and services to his m:;ster j but Count
Piper, whom his mrijcsty believes aniiior of the most
violent counsels into which his prince entered, is
disarmed^ and entertained accordingly. I'hat dc-
rr- 59s TATLER. 149
cisive battle was ended at nine in the morning ; and
all the Swedish generals dined with the Czar that
very day, and received assurances, that they should
lind Muscovy was not unacquainted with the laws
ot honour and humanity.
N^59, THURSDAY, AUGUST 25, 1709.
S^jicjuiil agunt hdmiiiei
tiMlri (St faoiigo lihellu
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
VhateVr men do, or say, or think, or Jream,
Out mutley paper seizes for ils theme. P.
Whitt$ Chocolate-house, August 24.
yEsor has gained to himself an immortal renown
tor figuring the manners, desires, passions, and in-
terrsts of men, by fables of beasts and birds. I
shall, in my future accounts of our modern heroes
and wits, vulgarly called Sharpers, imitate the me-
thod of that dcliglitful moralist ; and think, I can-
not represent those worthies more naturally than
under the shadow of a pack of dogs j for this set
of men are, like them, made up of Kindcrs,
Lurchers, and Setters. Some search for the prry,
others pursue, others take it ; and if it be worth it,
they all come in at the death, and worry the car-
cass. It would require a most e.Kact knowledge of
the field and the harbours where the deer lie, tore-
count all tlie revolutions in the chace.
o 3
150 TATLER. N= $9,
But I am diverted from the train of my disconrsc
of the fraternity about this town, by letters from
Hampstead, which give me an account, tliere is a
late institution tliere, under the name of a Raffling-
shop ; which is, it seems, secretly supported by a
person who is a deep practitioner in the law, and
out of tenderness of conscience has. under the name
of his maid Sisly, set up this easier way of convey-
ancing and alienating estates from one family to
another. He is so far from having an intelligence
with the rest of the fraternity, that all the humbler
cheats, who appear there, are out-faced by the
partners in the bank, and driven off by the reflection
of superior brass. This notice is given to all the
silly jfaces that pass that way, that they may not be
decoyed in by the soft allurement of a fine lady,
who is the sign to the pageantry. At the same time
Signior Hawksly, who is the patron of the house-
hold, is desired to leave off this interloping trade,
or admit, as he ought to do, the Knights of tlie In-
dustry to their share in the spoil. But this little
matter is only byway of digression. Therefore to
return to our worthies.
The present race of terriers and hounds would
starve, were it not for the inchanted Actceon, who
lias kept the whole pack for many successions of
hunting seasons. Actaeon has long tracts of rich
soil ; but had the misfortune in his youth to fall
under the power of sorcery, and has been ever
since, some parts of the year, a deer, and in some
parts a man. While he is a man, such is the force
of magic, he no sooner grows to such a bulk and
fatness, but he is again turned into a deer, and
hunted until he is lean; upon which he returns to
his human shape. Many arts have been tried, and
many resolutions taken by Acteon himself, to fol-
low such methods as would break the inchantraent ;
N^ 59. TATLER. 151
but all have hitherto proved ineffectual. I have
therefore, by midnight vt^atchings and much care,
found out, that there is no way to save him from
the jaws of his hounds, but to destroy the pack,
wliich, by astrological prescience, I find I am
destined to perform. For which end I have sent out
my familiar, to bring me a list of all the places
where they are harboured, that I may know where
to sound my horn, and bring them together, and
take an account of their haunts and tlieir marks,
against another opportunity.
JVilCs Coffee-house, August 14.
The author of the ensuing letter, by his name,
and the quotations he makes from the antients,
steins a sort of spy from the old world, whom we
moderns ought to be careful 'of offending ; there-
fore, I must be free, and own it a fair hit where he
takes me, rather than disoblige iiira. ;
" Sir,
" Having a peculiar humour of desiring to be
somewhat the better or wiser for what I read, I am
always uneasy wlien, in any profound writer, for I
read no others, I happen to meet with what I can-
not understand. When this falls out, it is a great
grievance to me that I am not able to consult the
author himself about his meaning, for commcn-
t.itors are a sect that has little share in my esteem :
your elaborate writings hav<^ among many others,
tliii advantage ; that their author is still alive, an<l
ready, as his extensive charity make us expect, to
explain whatever may be found in them too sublime
fur vulgar xmderstandings. This, Sir, makes ine
presume to ask you, how the Ilampstead hero's cha-
racter could be perfectly new when the last Itticra
ame away, and yet Sir John Suckling so well
153 TATLER. N 59.
acquainted with it sixty years ago ? I hope, Sir,
you will not take this amiss : I can a?sure you, I
have a profound rcs[)ect for you, which makes me
write this, with the same disposition with which
Longinus bids us read Homer and Plato, When in
reading, says he, any of those celebrated authors,
we mcft with a passage to which we cannot well
reconcile our reasons, we ought firmly to believe,
that were those great wits present to answer for
themsehes we should to our wonder be convinced^
that we only are guilty of the mistakes we before
attributed to them. If you think fit to remove the
scruple that now torments me, it will be an en-
couragement to me to settle a frequent correspon-
dence with you ; several things falling in rny way
which would rot, perhaps, be altogether foreign to
your purpose, r.nd whereon your thoughts would be
very acceptable to your most humble servant,
Obadiaii Gkkenhat."
I own this is clean, and Mr. Greenhat has con-
vinced me that I have writ nonsense^ yet am I not
at all offended at him.
Sun-.uif iSj banc ve/i/am fetimuique ditmutque viciaim.
HoK. Ars Poet. ver. ii.
" I own th' indulgence Such I give and take."
Fkancis.
This is the true art of raillery, when a man turns
another into ridicule, and shows at the same time
he is in good humour, and not urged on by malice
against the per.son he rallies. Obadiah Greenhat
has hit this very well : for to make an apology to
Isaac Bickerstaff, an unknown student and horaiy
historian, as well as astrologer, and with a grave
face to say, he speaks of him by the same rules
with which lie would treat Homer or Hato, is to
N" 59. TATT.ER. 153
place him In company where he cannot expect to
make a figure ; and makes him flatter himself, that
it is only being named with them which renders
him most ridiculous.
I have not known, and I am now past my grand
climacteric, being sixty-four years of age, accord-
ing to my way of life ; or rather, if you will allow
puiHiing in an old gentleman, according to my way
of paUinie; I say, as old as I am, I have not been
acquainted with many of the Greenhats. There is
indeed one Zedckiah Grecnhat, who is lucky also in
his way. He has a very agreeable manner j for
when he has a mind thoroughly to correct a man,
he never takes from him any thing, but he allows
him something for it j or else he blames him for
things wherein he is not defective, as well as for
matters wherein he is. This makes a weak man
believe he is in jest in the whole. The otl.er day
he told Beau Prim, who is thought impotent,
*' that his mistress had declared she would not have
him, because he was a sloven, and had committed a
rape." Tlie Beau bit at the banter, and said very
gravely, " he thought to be clean wai as much ag
was necessaiy ; and that as to the rape, he won-
dered by what witchcraft that should come to her
cars ; but it had indeed cost him an hundred pounds
to hush the affair."
The Greenhats are a family with small voices and
short arms, therefore they have power with none
but tlieir friends : they never call alter those wlio
ynu away from them, or pretend to take hold of you
if you r( sist. But it has been remarkable, that all
w ho have shunned their company, or not listened to
tiiein, have fallen into the hands of such as have
knnckcd out their biaiu';, or broken their bones. I
have looked over our jiciligree upon the reec i;.t of
this cpi^ile^ a!id fuul ill': C^icenhats are a-kin to llic
154 TATLER. N" 5?.
Staffs. They descend from Maudlin, the left-
handed wife of Nehemiah Bickerstaff, in the reign
of Harry the second. And it is remarkable, tliat
they are all left-handed, and have always been very
expert at single rapier. A man must be very muca
used to their play to know how to defeid him-
self, for their posture is so diflerent from that of
the right-handed, that you run upon their sv/ords
if you push forward ; and they are in with you,
if you offer to fall back witliout keeping your
guard.
There have been also letters lately sent to mc
which relate to other people : among the rest, some
whom I have heretofore declared to be so, are de-
ceased. I must not therefore break through rules
so far, as to speak ill of the dead. This maxim ex-
tends to all but the late Partridge, who still denies
his death. I am informed indeed by several, that
he walks ; but I shall with all convenient speed lay
him.
St. James's Coffee-house, August 24.
We hear from Toiirnay, that on the night be-
tween the twenty-second and twenty- third, they
went on with their works in the enemy's mines,
and levelled the earth which was taken out of them.
The next day, at eight in the morning, when the
French observed we were relieving our trenches,
they sprung a larger mine than any Uiey had lircd
during the siege, which killed only four private
ccntinels. The ensuing night we had three men
and two officers killed, as also seven men wounded.
Between the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth, we
repaired some works which the enemy had ruined.
On the next day, some of the enemy's magazines
blew up ; and it is thought they were dcitroyed on
K' 59. TATLER. 153
purpose by some of their men, who are impatient
of the hardships of the present service. There
happened nothing remarkable for two or three days
following. A deserter who came out of the citadel
on the twenty-seventh, says, the garrison is brought
to the utmost necessity ; that their bread and water
are both very bad : and that they were reduced to
cat horse-fle^. The manner of fighting in tliis
siege has discovered a gallantry in our men unknown
to former ages ; their meeting with adverse parties
under ground, where every step is taken with ap-
prehensions of being blown up with mines below
them, or crushed by the fall of the earth above
them, and all this acted in darkness, has something
in it more terrible than ever is met with in any
other part of a soldier's duty. However, this is
performed with great chearfulness. In other parts
of the war we have also good prospects : Count
Thaun has taken Annecy, and the Count de Merci
marched into Franche Compte, while his Electoral
Highness is much superior in number to Monsieur
d'Harcourt ; so that both on tlie side of Savoy and
Germany, we have reason to expect very suddenly
6ome great event.
156 TATLER. N^ 60.
N' 60. SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1709.
Sluicijuid agunt homines
Mitii est farrago lilelli,
JUV. Sat. I. S5, 86.
Wliate'cr men t!o, or fay, or think, or dream,
Our muiicy paper feizes for its theme. P.
IVhites Chocolate-house, JiiguM 26.
To proceed regularly in the history of my Worthirs,
I ought to give an account of what has passed froia
day to day in this place ; bat a young fellow of my
acquaintance has so lately been rescued out of the
hands oi tlie Knights of tlie Industry, that I rather
chuse to relate the manner of his escape from them,
and the uncommon way which was used to reclaim
him, than to go on in my intended diary.
You are to know then, that Tom Wildair is a stu-
dent of the Inner Temple, and has spent his time,
since he left the university for that place, in the
common diversions of men of fashion ; that is to
say, in whoring, drinking, and gaming. The two-
former vices he had from his father ; but was led
into the last by the conversation of a partizan of the
Myrmidons who had chambers near him. His al-
lowance from his father was a very plentiful one for
a man of sense, but as scanty for a modern fine gen-
tleman. His frequent losses had reduced him to so
necessitous a condition, tliat his lodgings were al-
ways haunted by impatient creditors ; and all liis
tlioughts employed in contriving low methods to
support himself iu a way of life from which hp
W60. TATLERi 15T
knew not how to retreat, and in which lie wanted
means to proceed. There is never wanting some
good-natured person to send a nian an account of
what he has no mind to hear ; therefore many
epistles were conveyed to the father of this extra-
vagant, to inform him of the company, the plea-
sures, the distresses, and entertainments, in which
his son f<assed his time. The old fellow received
these advices with all the pain of a parent, but fre-
quently consulted his pillow, to know how to be-
have himself on such important occasions, as the
welfare of his son, and tlie safety of his fortune.
After many agitations of mind, he reflected, that
necessity was the usual snare which made men fall
into meanness, and that a liberal fortune generally
made a liberal and honest mind ; he resolved there-
fore to save him from his ruin, by giving him op-
portunities of tasting what it is to be at ease, and
inclosed to him tlie following order upon Sir
Tristram Cash.
" Sir,
" Pray pay to Mr. Thomas Wildair, or order, the
sum of one thousand pounds, and place it to the ac-
count of yours,
Humphry Wildair."
Tom was so astonished witli the receipt of this
order, that though he knew it to be his father's
hand, and that he had always large sums at Sir
Tristram's; yet a thousand pounds was a trust of
which his conduct had always made him appear so
little capable, that he kept his note by him, until
lie writ to his father the following letter :
" Honoured Father,
" I liave received an order under your hand for a
thousand pounds^ in words at length; and I tliiiik
Vol. II. V
158 TATLER. K"60.
I could swear it is your own hand. I have looked
it over and over twenty thousand times. There is
in plain letters, T,h,o,u,s,a,n,d ; and after it, th
letters P,o,u,n,d,s. I have it still by me, and shall,
1 believe, continue reading it until 1 hear irom
you."
The old gentleman took no manner of notice of
the receipt of his letter j but sent him another order
for three thousand pounds more. His amazement
on this second letter was unspeakable. He imme-
diately double-locked his door, and sat down care-
fully to reading and comparing both his orders.
After he had read them until he was half mad, he
walked six or seven turns in his chamber, then
opens his door, then locks it again ; and, to ex-
amine thoroughly this mntter, he locks his door
again, puts his table and chairs against it ; then
goes into his closet, and, locking himself in, rend
ins notes over again about nineteen times, which
did but increase his astonishment. Soon after, he
began to recollect many stories he had formerly-
heard of persons, who had been possessed with
imaginations and appearances which had no foun-
dation in nature, but had been taken with sudden
madness in the midst of a seeming clear and un-
tainted reason. This made him very gravely con-
clude he was out of his wits; and, with a design
to compose himself, he immediately betakes him to
his night-cap, with a resolution to sleep himself
into his former poverty and senses. To bed there-
fore he goes at noon-day ; but soon rose again, and
resolved to visit Sir Tristram upon this occasion.
He did so, and dined with the knight, expecting
he would mention some advice from his Intlier
about paying him money; but no such thing being
said, " Look you. Sir Tristram," said he, "you
are to know, that an affair has happened, which
W' 60. . TATLIR* 15^
" Look you," says Tristram, " I know, Mr. Wild-
air, you are going to desire me to advance } but tlie
Lite call of the bank, where I have not yet made
my last payment, has obliged me " Tom inter-
rupted him, by showing him the bill of a thousand
pounds. When he had itx^ked at it for a convenient
time, and as often surveyed Toms looks and coun-
txinance ; *' Look you, Mr. Wildair, a thovisand
pounds " Before he could proceed, he shows him
the order for three thousand more Sir Tristram ex-
ainined the orders at the light, and tinding at tlie
writing the name, there was a certain stroke in one
letter, which the father and he had agreed should
be to such directions as he desired might be more
immediately honoured, he forthwith pays the mo-
my. The possession of four thousand pounds gave
my young gentleman a new train of thoughts : he
began to reflect upon his birth, the great expec-
tations he was born to, and the unsuitable ways he
had long pursued. Instead of that imthinking
creature he was before, he is now provident, ge-
nerous, and discreet. The father and son have an
exact and regular correspondence, with mutual and
unreserved confidence in each other. The son looks
upon his father as the best tenant he could have in
tlie country, and the father finds the son the most
safe banker he could have in tlie city.
IVilCs Cojjie house, August 26.
There is not any thing in nature so extravagant,
but that you will find one man or other that sliali
practise or maintain it; otherwise Harry Spondee
could not have made so long an harangue as he did
here tlii'? evening, concerning the force and efii-
cacy of well-applied nonsense. Among Indies, he
pi>silivcly averred, it was the mast prevailing part
uf eloquence : and had so little complaisar.ce as to
! a
160 TATLER. N'fioC
83y^ " a woman is never taken by her reason, but
always by her passion." He proceeded to assert,
" the way to move that, was only to astonish her.
I know," continued he, " a very late instance of
this ; for being by accident in the room next to
Strephon, I could not help over-hearing him, as he
made love to a certain great lady's woman. The
true method in your application to one of this se-
cond rank of understanding, is not to elevate and
sui-prize, but ratlicr to elevate and amaze. Stre-
phon is a perfect master in this kind of persuasion :
ins way is, to run over with a soft air a multitude of
words, without meaning or connexion 5 but such a
do each of tiiem apart give a pleasing idea, though
they have notliing to do with each otlier us he as-
sembles them. After the common phrases of salu-
tation, and making his entry into the room, I per-
ceived be had taken the fiiir nymph's hand, and
kissing it said, ' Witness to my happiness^ ye
groves ! be still, ye rivulets ! Oh ! w<M)ds, caves,
Jountains, trees, dales, mountains, hills, and streams?
oh ! fairest ! could you love me .'' To which I
overheard her answer, witli a very pretty lisp, * oh!
Strephon, you are a dangerous creature : why do
you talk these tender things to me ? but you rnen of
v.'it ' ' Is it then possible,* said the enamoured
Strephon, ' that she regards my sorrows ! oh ! pity,
thou balmy cure to an heart over-loaded! If rap-
ture, solicitittion, solt desire, and pleasing anxiety
But still I live in the mtjst afflicting of all circum-
stances, doubt Cannot my ch:irmer name the
pbce and moment .'''
' Tli'Te ;ill those joys in^ati.ibl/ lo prove,
' Willi whicti rich beauty feeds the glutton love,'
" Forgive me, madam ; it is not that my heart Is
weary oi its chain, but * This incoherent stufl"
K" 60. TATLER. 161
was answered by a tender sigh, ' Wliy do you put
jroui- wit to a weak woman ?' SLrephoii saw he had
made some progress in her heart, and pursued it, by
saying that ' He would certainly wait upon her at
such an hour near Rosamond's pond ; and then^
the sylvan deities, and rural powers of the place,
sacred and inviolable to love ; love, the mover of
all noble artSj should hear his vows repeated by the
streams and echoes,* The assignation was accord-
ingly made. This style he calls the unintelligible-
metliod of speaking his mind ; and I will engage,
bad this giillant spoken plain English, she had never
nuderstood him half so readily : for we may take it
for granted, that he v/ill be esteemed as a very cold
lovt r, wlio discovers to his mistress that he is in his
seuita."
From my awn Apartment, August 26.
Tlic following letter came to my hand, with a re-
quest to liave the subject recommended to our
yea<lcrs, particularly the smart fellows ; whoare de-
sired to repair to Major Touch-hole, who can he!p
them to firelocks that are only tit for exercise.
" Just ready for the Press.
" Mars Triumphant ; or, London's Glory : be-
ing the whole art of encampment, with the method
of embattelling armies, marching them off, posting
the oflicers, forming hollow squares, and the va-
rious ways of paying the salute widi the half-pike ;
as it was pertbrmed by the trained-bands of London
this year, one thousand seven hundred and nine,
ill that nursery of Eellona, the Artillery-ground.
AVhcrein you have a new method how to form a
strong line of foot, with large intervals betweea
each platoon, very uscfid to prevent the breaking-*
162 TATLER. N" 60.
in of horse. A civil way of performing tlie mi-
litary ceremony ; wherein the major alights from
hitf horse, and at the head of his company salutes
the lieutenant-colonel j and the lieutenant-colonel,
to return the compliment, courteously dismounts,
and after the same manner salutes his major; ex-
actly as it was performed, with abundance of ap-
plause, on the fifth of July last. Likewise an ac-
count of a new invention, made use of in the red
regiment, to quell mutineering captains ; with se-
veral other things alike useful for the public. To
which is added, an ajipendix by major Touch-hole ;
proving the method of discipline now used in our
armies to be very defective : witli an essay towards
an amendment. Dedicated to the lieutenant-co-
lonel of the first regiment."
*.* Mr. BickerstafF has now in the press, " A
defence of aukward fellows against the class of the
smarts : with a dissertation upon the gravity which
becomes weighty persons. Illustrated by way of
fable, and a discourse on the nature of the elephant,
the cow, the dray-horse, and the dromedary, which
have motions equally steady and grave. To tliis is
added a treatise written by an elephant, according
to Pliny, against receiving foreigners into the forest.
Adapted to some present circumstances. Together
with allusions to such beasts as declare against tlic
poor Palatines."
ir 61. TATLER^ ICJ
N61. TUESDAY, AUGUST 30, 1709.
^icquid agunt bominti
nettri tit fdtrago lilelU.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Whate'rr men do, or Uj, or think, or dream,
Our motley paper feizes for iu tlieme. F.
TJ^i'ites Chocolate-house, August 29.
Among many phrases which have crept into con-
versation, especially of such company as frequent
this place, there is not one which misleads me
more, than that of a " Fellow of a great deal of
fire." This metaphorical term, Fire, has done
mvich good in keeping coxcombs in awe of one ano-
ther; but at the same time it has made them trou-
blesome to every body else. You see, in the very-
air of " a Fellow of Fire," something so expressive
of what he would be at, that if it were not for self-
preservation, a man would laugh out.
1 had last night the fate to drink a bottle with two
of these Firemen, who are indeed dispersed like the
Myrmidons in all quarters, and to be met with
among those of the most different education. One
of my companions was a scholar with Fircj and
the other a soldier of the same complexion. My
karncd man would fall into disputes, and argue
without any manner of provocation or contra-
!ii tion ; the other was decisive without words, and
V. ould give a shrug or an oath to express his opi-
niv>n. My learned man was a mere scholar, and
ray man of war as mere a soldier. The particularity
164 TATLER. K^'ei,
of the first was ridiculous, tliat of the second, ter-
rible. They were relations by blood, which in
some measure moderated their extravagances to-
wards each other : I gave myself up merely as a
person of no note in the company, but as if brought
to be convinced that I was an inconsiderable thing,
any otherwise than that they would show each other
to me, and make me spectator of the triumph they
alternately enjoyed. The scholar has been very
conversant with books, and the other with mci'>,
only ; which makes them both superficial : for tlie
taste q{ books is necessary to our behaviour in the
best company, and the knowledge of men is re-
quired for a true relish of books : but they have
both Fire, which makes one pass for a man of
sense, and the other for a line gentleman. I found,
I could easily enough pass my time with the scho-
lar : for if I seemed not to do justice to his parts and
sentiments, he pitied me, and let me alone. But
the warrior could not let it rest there ; I must know
all that happened within his shallow observations of
the nature of the war : to all which he added an air
of laziness, and contempt of those of his compa-
nions who were eminent for delighting in the ex-
ercise and knowledge of their duty. Thus it is,
that all the young fellows of much animal life, and
little understanding, who repair to our armies,
usurp upon the conversation of reasonable men, un-
der the notion of having Fire.
The word has not been of greater use to shallow
lovers, to supply them with chat to their mistresses,
than it has been to pretended men of plt-asure, to
support them in being pert and dull, and saying of
eveiy fool of their order, " buch a one has Fiie."
There is colonel Truncheon, who marches with di-
visions ready on all occasions ; an hero who never
doubted in hi life, but is ever positively fixed in
IT' 61. TATLER. 165
the wrong, not out of obstinate opinion, but invin-
cible stupidity.
It is very unhappy for this latitude of London,
that it is possible for such as can learn only fashion,
habit, and a bet of common phrases of salutation,
to pass with no other accomplisliments, in thi.-i
nation of I'reedom, for men of conversation and
sense. All these ought to pretend to is, not to
ottend ; but they carry it so far, as to be negligent
whctlitr they offfud or not ; " for tjiey have Tire."
But their force differs from true spirit, as much as
a vicious from a mettlesome horse. A man of Fire
is a general cnen)y to all the waiters where you
drink ; is the only man aflrontcd at the company's
being neglected ; and makes the drawers abroad,
his valet de chamlrc and footman at home, know he
is not to be provoked without danger.
This is not the Fire that animates the noble Ma-
rinus, a youth of good nature, affability, and mo-
deration. He commands his ship as an intelligence
moves its orb : he is the vital life, and his oflicers
the limbs of the machine. His vivacity is seen in
doing all the offices of lite with readiness of spirit,
and propriety in the manner of doing them. To be
ever active in laudable pursuits, is the distinguishing
character of a man of merit; while the common
behaviour of every gay coxcomb of Fire is, to be
confidently in the wrong, and dare to persist in it.
Wilts Cnjf'ee-house, j4ugust 29.
It is a common objection against writings of a
satirical mixture, that ihey hurt men in their repu-
tations, and conse(jUently in their fortunes and pos-
sessions ; but a gcntlcnnui who frequents this room
declared he was of opinion it ought to be so, pro-
vided such perlormances had their proj>rr re-
jtricuons. The greatest evils in hunian society are
166 TATLER. N^el.
such as no law can come at ; as In the case of in-
gratitude, where the manner of obliging very often
leaves the benefactor without means of demanding
justice, though that very circumstance shoukl be
the more binding to the person who has received
tlx; benefit. On such an occasion, shall it be pos-
sible for the malefactor to escape ? and is it not
lawful to set marks upon persons who live withia
the. law, and do base things ? shall not we use the
ame protection of those laws to punish them,
which they have to defend themselves ? We shall
tlierefore take it for a very moral action to find a
good appellation for offenders, and to turn thcra
into ridicule under feigned names.
I am advertised by a letter of August 25, that
the name of Coppersmith has very much wanted
explanation in the city, and by that means is un-
justly given, by those who are conscious they de-
serve it themselves, to an honest and worthy ci-
tizen belonging to the Copper-office ; but that word
is framed out of a moral consideration of weidth
amongst men, whereby he that has gotten any part
of it by injustice and extortion, is to be thought ia
the eye of virtuous men so much the poorer for such
gain. Thus, all the gold which is torn from our
neighbours, by making advantage of their wants,
is Copper ; and I authorise the Lombards to distin-
guish themselves accordingly. All the honest, who
make a reasonable profit, both for the advantage of
themselves and those they deal with, are Gold-
smiths ; but those who tear unjustly all they can.
Coppersmiths. At the same time, I desire him
wlio is most guilty, to sit down satisfied with riches
and contempt, and be known by the title of " The
Coppersmitli ;" as being the chief of tliat respected,
fcuulemptible fraternity.
N 61. TATLER. 167
This is the case of all others mentioned in our
Lucubrations ; particularly of Stentor, who goes
on in his vociferations at St. Paul's with so much
obstinacy, that he has received admonition from St.
Peter's for it, from a person of eminent wit and
piety ; but w ho is by old age reduced to the infir-
mity of sleeping at a service, to which he had been
fifty years attentive j and whose death, whenever
it happens, may, with that of the saints, well be
called ** Falling asleep :" for the innocence of his
life makes him expect it as indifferently as he does
his ordinary rest. This gives him a chearfulness of
spirit to rally on his own weakness, and hath made
him write to Stentor to hearken to my admonitions.
*' Brother Stentor," said he, " for the repose of the
ciuirch, hearken to Bickerstaff ; and consider that,
while you are so devout at Saint Paul's, we cuimot
sleep for you at Saint Peter's."
From my own Apartment, Aitgusi 29.
There has been lately sent me a much harder
question than was ^ver yet put to me, since I pro-
fessed astrology ; to wit, how far, and to what'^ge,
women ought to make their beauty their chief con-
cern ? The regard and care of their faces and per-
sons are as variously to be considered, as their com-
plexions themselves ditfer; but if one may transgress
against the careful practice of the fair sc\ so much
as to give an opinion against it, I humbly presume,
that less care, better applied, would increase their
empire, and make it last as long as life. Whereas
now, from their own example, we take our esteem
of their merit from it ; for it is very just that she
who values herself only on her beauty, should be
regarded by others on no other consideration.
There is certainly a liberal and a pedantic education
among women, as well as men } and the merit lasts
4^8 TATLER. KOCl*
accordingly. She, therefore, that Is bred with free-
dom, and in good company, conhiders men accord-
ing to their respective characters and distinctions ;
while she, that is locked up from such observations,
will consider her father's butler, not as a butler,
but as a man. In like manner, when men con-
verse with women, the well-bred and intelligent
are looked upon with an observation suitable to their
different talents and accomplishments, without re-^
spect to their sex ; while a mere woman can be ob-
served under no consideration but that of a woaiaa ;
and there can be but one reason for placinj^ any
value upon her, or losing time in her coir,p;tnv.
Wlierefore, I am cf opinion, that the ruU; for
pleasing long is, to obtain such qualiticaticns as
would make them so, were they not women.
Let the beauteous Cleoniira then show us hrr real
face, and know that every stage of life has its pe-
culiar charms, and that there is no necessity tor
fifty to be fifteen. That childish colouring of her
cheeks is now as ungraceful, as that shape would
have been when her face wore its real countenance.
She has sense, and ought to kno^, that if she will
not follow nature, nature will follow her. Time
then has made that person which had, when I vi-
sited her grandfather, an agreeable bloom, sprightly
air, and soft utterance, now no less graceful in a
lovely aspect, an awful manner, and maternal wis-
dom. But her heart was so set upon her fii'st cha-
racter, that she neglects and repines at her present ;
not that she is against a more stayed conduct in
Others, for she recommends gravity, circumspection,
and severity of countenance to her daughter. Thus,
against all chronology, the girl is the sage, the mo-
ther the fine lady.
But these great evils proceed from an unaccounta-
ble wild method in the education of the better half
N^61. tATLER. IC9
of the world, the women. We have no such thing
as a standard for good breeding. I was the other
day at my lady Wcalthy's, and asked one of her
daught(-r.s how she did ? She answered, " She ne-
ver conversed witli men." The same day I visited
at lady Plantwell's, and asked her daughter the
same question. She answers, ' What is that to
you, you old thief?" and gives me a slap on the
shoulders.
I defy any man in England, except he knows they
fiimily before he enters, to be able to judge whether
he shall be agreeable or not, when he comes into it.
You tind either some odd old woman, who is per-
mitted to rule as long as she lives, in hopes of her
death, and to inten'uj)t all things ^ or some imper-
linent young woman, who will talk sillily upon the
strength of looking beautifully. I will not answer
for it, but it may be, that I (like all other old fel-
lows) have a fondness for the fashions and man-
ners which prevailed when I was young and in
fashion myself. But certain it is, that the taste of
grace and beauty is very nmcli lowered. The tine
women they show me now-a-days are at best but
pretty girls to me who have seen Sacharissa, whca
all the world repeated the poems she inspired ; and
Villaria *, when a youthful king was her subject.
The Things you follow, and make songs on novjr^
should be sent to knit or sit down to bobbins or
bone-lace : they are indeed neat, and so are their
sempstresses ; they arc pretty, and so are their
hand-maids. But that graceful motion, that awful
mien, and that winning attraction, which grew
upon them from the thoughts and conversation*
tiicy met with in my time, arc now no more sceiu
* The dutchefs of Clevelan4
TOL. II. a
170 TATLER. NC1.
They tell me I am old : I am glad I am so 5 for I do
not like your present young ladies.
Those among us who set up for any thing of dc'
corum, do so mistake the matter, that they otfend
on the other side. Five young ladies, who are of
no small fame for their great severity of manners,
and exemplary behaviour, would lately go no where
with their lovers but to an organ-loft in a church ;
where they had a cold treat, and some few opera
songs, to their great refreshment and edification.
Whether these prudent persons had not been as
much so if this had been done at a tavern, is not
very hard to determine. It is such silly starts and
incoherences as these, which undervalue the beau-
teous sex, and puzzle us in our choice of sweetness
of temper and simplicity of manners, which arc the
only lasting charms of woman. But I must leave
this important subject, at present, for some matters
which press for publication j as you will pbserve in
the following letter :
" Dear Sir,
" London, Aug. 26, Artillery Ground.
" It is natural for distant relations to claim kin-
dred with a rising family 5 though at this time zeal
to my country, not interest, calls me oat. The
city-forces being shortly to take the field, all good
protestants would be pleased that their arms and va-
lour should shine with equal lustre. A council of
war was lately held, the honourable colonel Mortar
being president. After many debates, it was una-
nimously resolved. That major Blunder, a most ex-
pert officer, should be detached for Birmingham, to
buy arms, and to prove his firelocks on the spot, as
well to prevent expence, as disappointment in the
day of battle. The major, being a person of con-
K 61. TATLER. HI
summate experience, was invested with a discre-
tionary power. He knew from antient story, that
securing the rear, and making a glorious retreat,
was the most celebrated piece of conduct. Ac-
cordingly such measures were taken to prevent sur-
prize in the rear of his arms, that even Pallas her-
self, in the shape of rust, could not invade them.
They were drawn into close order, firmly embodied,
and arrived securely without touch-holes. Great
and national actions deserve popular applause; and
as praise is no expence to the public, therefore,
dearest kinsman, I communicate this to you, as well
to oblige this nursery of heroes, as to do justice to
my native country. lam.
Your most allectionate kinsman.
Offspring Twig."
*** A war-horse, belonging to one of the co-
h^nels of the artillery, to be let or sold. He may be
ficen adorned with ribbands, and set forth to the
best advantage, the next training day.
a 1
lli TATLER, N" 62.
N-62. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER], 1709.
^icquti agunt biminei
nonri est farrago libeH!.
JUV, Sat. 1.85, 86.
Whatever pood is done, vuhaJevcr ill - -
By human iim/, shall this cullcction fill.
Whites Chocolate-house, August ^i.
This place being freqivented by persons of con-*
dition, I am desired to recommend a dog-kennel to
any who shall want a pack. It lies not far from
Suffolk-street, and is kept by two who were formerly
dragoons in the French service; bnt left plundering
for the more orderly life of keeping dogs : besides
that, according to tht^ir expectation, they find it
more profitable, as well as more conducing to the
safety of their skin, to follow this trade, than the
beat of drum. Their residence is very convenient
for the dogs to whelp in, and bring up a right breed
to follow the scent. The most eminent of the ken-
nel are blood-hounds, which lead the van, and arc
as follow :
A list of the dogs.
Jowler, of a right Irish breed, called Captain.
Rockwood, of French race, with long hair, by
the courtesy of England, called also Captain.
Pompey, a tall hound, kennelled in a convent in
France, and knows a rich soil".
These two last hunt in couple, and are followed by
Ringwood, a French black wliclji of the same
breed, a fine open-mouthed dog; and an old sick
N 62. TATLER. t'JS
hound, always in kennel, but of the true blood,
with a good nose, Frencli breed.
Tiicrc is also an Italian grey-hound, with good
legs, and knows perfectly the ground from Ghent
to Paris.
Ten setting dogs, right English.
Four mongrels of the same nation.
And twenty whelps, fit for any game.
Tliese curs are so extremely hungry, that they
arc too keen at the sport, and worry their game be-
fore the keepers can come in. The other day a wild
boar from the north rushed into the kennel, and at
tirs!, indeed, defended himself against the whole
pack ; but they proved at last too many for him,
and tore twenty-five jxjunds of flesh from off his
b.ick, willi which they filled their bellies, and made
so great a noise in the neighbourhood, that the
keepers are obliged to hasten the sale. That quarter
<;f the town where they are kennelled is generally
inhabited by strangers, \v4i0be blood the hounds
have often sucked in such a manner, that many a
German count, and other virtuosi, who came from
the continent, have lost the intention of their
tra\ <;!s, and been unable to proceed on their journey.
If these hounds are not very soon disposed of to
some gooil purchaser, as also those at the kennels
nearer Saint James's, it is humbly proposed, that
they may be all together transported to America,
wlune the dogs are few, and the wild beasts many :
or that, during their stay in these parts, some emi-
nent justice of the peace may have it in particular
direction to visit tiieir harbours ; and that the
Bherilf of Middlesc^x may allow him the assistau'.e of
the common hangman to cut olf tbeir ears, or part
of them, lor distinciion-sake, that we may know
Uic blu:;d-hounds from the mongrels and setters.
3
174 TATLER. N* 62.
Until these things are regulated, you may enquire
at an house belonging to Paris, at the upper-end of
Suffolk-street, or an house belonging to Ghent,
opposite to the lower end of Pall-mall, and know
further.
It were to be wished that these curs were disposed
of; for it is a very great nuisance to have tiu-ni to-
lerated in cities. That of London takes care, th.it
the " Common Hunt," assisted by the serjcaiitsniid
bailiffs, expel them whenever they are found within
the walls; though it is said, some private families
keep them, to the destruction of their neighbours :
but it is desired, that all who know of any of these
curs, or have been bit by them, won^d send me
their marks, and the houses where they are har-
boured ; and I do not doubt but I shall alarm the
people so well, as to have them used like mad dogs
V herever they appear. In the mean time, I advise
all such as entertain this kind of vermin, that if
they give me timely notice that their dogs are dis-
missed, I shall let them go unregarded ; otherwise
am obliged to admonish my fellow-subjects in this
behalf, and instruct them how to avoid being
worried, when they are going about their lawful
professions and callings. There was lately a young
gentleman bit to the bone; who has now indeed
reco\ercdhis health, but is as lean as a skeleton.
It grieved my heart to see a 'gentleman's son run
among the hounds ; but he is, they tell me, as fleet
and as dangerous as the best of the pack.
iVUCs Coffee-house, August 31.
This evening was spent at our table in discourse
of propriety of words and thoughts, which is Mr.
Dryden's definition of wit ; but a very odd fellow,
who would intrude upon us, and has a briskness of
imagination more like madness than regular thoughts.
N" 62. TATLER. 175
said, that " Harry Jacks was the first who told
him of the taking of the citadel of Toiirnay ; and,"
says he, " Harry deserves a statue more than the
boy wlio ran to the senate with a thorn in his foot,
to tell of a victory." We were astonislicd at the as-
sertion, and Spondee asked him, " What affinity is
there between that boy and Harry, that you say
tlicir merit has so near a resemblance as y(m just
now told us ?" Why," says he, " Harry, you
know, is in the French interest; and it was more
pain to him to tell the story of Tournay, tiian to the
boy to run upon a thorn to relate the victory which
he was glad of." The gentleman, who was in the
chair upon the subject of propriety of words and
thoughts, would by no means allow, that tliere was
wit in this comparison ; and urged, that " to have
any thing gracefully said, it must be natural j but
that whatsoever was introduced in common dis-
course with so much premeditation, was insuffer-
able." That critic went on : " Had Mr. Jacks,"
said he, " told him the citadel was taken, and ano-
ther had answered, * he deserves a statue as well as
the Roman boy, for he told it with as much pain,'
it miglit have passed for a sprightly expression ; but
there is a wit for discourse, and a wit for writing.
The easiness and familiarity of the first is not to
savour in tlie least of study ; but the exactness of
the other is to admit of something like the freedom
of discourse, especially in treatises of humanity,
and what regards the Idles letlrcs. I do not in this
allow, that Biekerstaff's Tatlers, or discourses of
wit by retail, and for tlic penny, should come with-
in the description of writing." I bowed at his com-
pliment, and But he would not let me proceed.
You see in no place of conversation the perfection
of speech so much as in an accomi)lished woman.
AN'liClln;!- it bc^ that there is a partiality irresistible
176 TATLER. N" 62.
when we judge of that sex, or whatever it is, you
may observe a wonderful freedom in their utterance,
and an easy flow of words, without being distracted
(as we often are who rend muehj in the choice of
dictions and phrases. My lady Courtly is an instance
of this. She was talking the other day of dress,
and did it with so excellent an air and gesture, tliat
you would have sworn she had learned her action
from our Demosthenes. Besides which, her words
were so particularly well adapted to the matter she
talked of, that though di-ess was a new thing to us
men, she avoided the terms of art in it, and de-
scribed an unaffected garb and manner in so proper
terrns, that she came up to that of Horace's " sivi-
plex mundillls ;" which whoever can translate in
two words, has as much eloquence as lady Courtly.
I took the liberty to tell her, that " all she had said
with so much good grace, was spoken in two words
in Horace, but would not undertake to translate
them :" upon which she smiled, and told me, " she
believed me a very great scholarj" and 1 took my
Jeavc.
From my otvn Apartment^ August ^i*
I have been just now reading the introduction to
the history of Catiline by Sallust, an author who is
very much in my favour : but when I reflect upon
his professing himself wholly disinterested, and at
the sarne time see how industriously he has avoided
sayirig any thing to the praise of Cicero, to whose
vigilance the commonwealth owed its safety, it very
much lessens my esteem for that writer ; and is one
argument, among others, for laughing at all who
pretend to be out of the interests of the world, and
profess purely to act for the service of mankind,
without the least regard to themselves. I do not
deny but that the rewards are different ; some aim
N' 62. TATLfTR. 17*7
at riches, otlicTS at honour, by their puWlc services.
However, they are all pursuing some end to them-
selves, though indeed those ends differ as much as
right and wrong, llie must graceful way then, I
fchould think, would be to acknowledge, that you
aim at serving yourselves ; but at the same time
make it appear, it is for the service of others tliat
you have these opportunities.
Of all the disinterested professors I have ever
lieard of, I take the boatswain of Dampier's sliip to
be the most impudent, but the most excuseable.
You are to know that, in the wild searches that na-
vigator was making, they happened to be out at sea,
far distant from any shore, in want of all the ne-
cessaries of life J insomuch that they began to look,
not wiihout hunger, on eadi other. The boatswaia
v/as a fat, healthy, fresh fellow, and attracted the
eyes of tke whole crew. In such an extreme ne-
cessity, all forms of su[x;riority were laid aside:
the captain and licuten.mt were safe only by being
carrion, and the unhappy boatswain in danger only
by being worth eating. To be short, the company
vere unanimous, and the boatswain must be cut up.
He saw their intention, and desired he might speak
a few words betore they proceeded ; which being
permitted, he dcliveied himself as follows:
" Gentlemen Sailors,
*' Far be it tlial I should speak it for any private
ir.tc'n M of my own ; but I take it that I should not
die uixh a good conscience, if I did not confess to
y\<v., li'.al 1 am nut sound, I say, genllemt-n, jus-
tice, and tlic tcsiiniiuy of a good conscience, as
v.dl as l')\r of my country, to which I liope you
V. ill all rciurn, oblige me to own, that black Kate
;!i J); ]):t'i..'\l has nja jc uic very uns:ilc to cat^ and.
178 TATLtR. N" 62.
I speak it with shame, I am afraid, gentlemen, I
should poison you."
This speech had a good effect in the boatswain's
favour; but the surgeon of the ship protested he
had cured him very w ell, and offered to eat the first
steak of him himself.
The boatswain replied, like an orator, with a
true notion of tlie people, and in hopes to gain
time, that " he was heartily glad if he could be for
their service ;" and thanked the surgeon for his in-
formation. " However," said he, " I must infcirm
you for your own good, that I have, ever since n\y
cure, been very thirsty and dropsical ; therefore, I
jiresume, it would be much better to tap me, and
drink me off, than eat me at once, and have no
man in the ship fit to be drunk." As he v.-as going
on with his harangue, a fresh gale arose, and gave
the crew hopes of a better repast at the nearest
shore, to which they arrived next morning.
Most of the self-denials we meet with are of lliis
sort 3 therefore, I think he acts fairest who owns,
he hopes at least to have brother's fare, without pro-
essing that he gives himself up with pleasure to be
devoured for the preservation of his fellows.
Si. James's CoJJee-house, August 31.
Letters from the Hague, of the sixth of Sep-
tember, N. S. say, that the governor of the eitudei
of Tournay having offered their Highnesses the
Duke of Marlborough and the Prince of Savoy to
surrender that place on the thirty-first of the last
month, on terms which were not allov.ed them by
those princes, hostilities w^re thereupon rent wed;
but that on the third the place was sunendeieci,
with a seeming condition granted to the bebieged,
above tliat of being prisoners of war : for they were
TfO 62. TATLER. 179
forthwith to be conducted to Cond^, but were to be
exchanged for prisoners of the Alhes, and particu-
lar! v those of \Varneton were mentioned in the de-
maud. Both armies having stretched towards Mons
Avith the utmost diHgcnce, that of the Allies, though
they passed the much more difficult road, arrived
first before that town, which they have now actu-
ally invested ; and the quarter-niaster-general was,
at the time of dispatching these letters, marking
the ground for the encampment of the covering
army.
" To the booksellers, or others whom this adver-
tisement may concern.
" Mr. Oiuicron *, the unborn poet, gives notice,
tl; !l iic writes all treatises, as well in virsc as prose,
biin^ a ninth son, and translates out of all lan-
guages, without learning or study.
" If any bookseller will treat for his pastoral on
tlie siege and surrender of the citadel of Tournay,
he must send in his proposals before the news of a
capitulation for any other town,
" The undertaker for either play-house may have
an opera written by him ; or, if it shall suit their
design, a satire upon operas j botli ready for next
winter."
Mr. Oldmixon was probably here ridicaleJ under ihc name
of Mr. O.nicron.
180 TATLEil. N= 63v
N63. SATURDAY^ SEPTEMBER 3, 170^.
^uicquld agunt Jkmines -
noitri est farrago lihtllc.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our motley paper seizes for its llieme. P.
Whites Chocolafe-lwuse, Septemlcr 2.
Gf the enjoyment of life with regard to others.
.1 HAVE ever thought it tlie greatest diminution to
the RoiTum glory imaginable, that in their institu-
tion of public triumphs, they led their enemies in
chains when they were pri-soncrs. It is to be al-
lowed that doing all honour to tl^ superiority of
heroes above the rest of mankind, must needs con-
duce to the glory and advantage of a nation ; but
what shocks the imagination to reflect upon is, that
a polite people should think it reasonable, that au
unhappy man, who was no way inferior to tlie vic-
tor but by the chance of war, should be led like a
slave at the wheels of his chariot. Indeed, these
other circumstances ot' a triumph, that it was nr^t
allowed in a civil war, lest one part should be in
tears, while the other was making acclamatioub )
that it should not be graiited, except such a number
were slain in battle j that the general should be dis-
graced who made a falfe muster of his dead ; these,
1 say, had great and politic ends in their being esta-
blished, and tended to the apparent benefit of the
common-wcalili. JBut this behaviour to tlie con-
K^ 6 j. TATLEfe. 181
quered had no foundation in nature or policy, only
to gratify the insolence of an haughty people, who
triumphed over barbarous nations, by acting what
was tit only for those very barbarians to practise.
It seems wonderful, that they who were so retined
as to take care, that, to complete the honour done
to the victorious officer, no power should be known
above him in the empire on the day of his triumph,
but that the consuls themselves should be but guests
at his table that evening, could not take it into
thought to make the man of chief note among liis
prisoners one of the company. This would have
improved the gladness of the occasion ; and the vic-
tor had made a much greater figure, in that no other
man appeared unhappy on his day, than because no
other man appeared great.
But we will wave at present such important inci-
dents, and turn our thoughts rather to the familiar
part of human life, and we shall find, that the great
business we contend for is in a less degree what
those Romans did on more solemn occasions, to
triumph over our fellow-creatures ; and there is
hardly a man to be found, who \\'ould not r.ither be
in pain to appear happy, than be really happy and
thought miserable. This men attempt by sumptuous
equipages, splendid houses, numerous sei vants, and
all the cares and pursuits of an ambitious or faahion-
able life.
Bromeo and Tabic are particularly ill-wishers to
each oihcr, and rivals in happintss. There is no
way in nature so good to procure tlie esteem of the
one, as to give him little notices of certain secret
points, wherein the other is uneasy. Gnatho 'ins
the skill of doing this, and never applauds the im-
provements Bromeo has been many years making,
and ever will be making, but he adds, " Now this
very thing was ray tliought when Tabio was pulling
VOL. 11. R,
183 TATLER, N 8.
up his underwood, yet he never wotild hear of it ;
but now your gardens are in this posture, he is
ready to hang himself. Well, to be sincere, that
situation of his can never make an agreeable seat ;
he may make his house and appurtenances what he
pleases, but he cannot remove them to the same
ground where Bromeo's stands ; and of all things
under the sun, a man that is happy at second-hand
is the most monstrous," ' It is a very strange mad-
uess,'* anfwers Bromeo, " if a man on these occa-
sions can think of any end but pleasing himself.
As for my part, if things are convenient, J hate all
ostentation. There is no end of the folly of adapt-
ing our affairs to the imagination of others." Upon
which, the next thing he does is to enlarge what-
ever he hears his rival has attempted to imitate him
in ; but their misfortune is, that they are in their
time of life, in their estates, and in their under-
standings, equal} so that the emulation may continue
to the last day of their lives. As it stands now,
Tabio has heard, that Bromeo has lately purchased
two bundled a year in the aniuiities since he last
settled the account of their happiness, in which he
thought himself to have the balance. This may
seem a very fantastical way of thinking in these
men ; but there is nothing so common, as a man's
endeavouring rather to go farther than some other
person towards an easy fortune, than to form any
certain standard that would make himself happy.
iViil's Coffee-house, Septemher 2.
Mr. Dactyle has been this evening very profuse of
his eloquence upon the talent of turning things into
ridicule ; aiid seemed to say very justly, that " there
was generally in it something too disingenuous for
the society of liberal men, except it were governed
by the circumstances of persons^ time, and place.
N 63. TATLER. 183
This talent," continued he, " is to be used as a
man does liis sword, not to be drawn but in his
own defence, or to bring pretenders and impostors
in society to a true light. But we have seen this
fi^culty so mistaken, that the buHesque of Virgil
liimself has passed, among men of little taste, for
wit ; and the noblest thoughts that can enter into
the heart of man levelled with ribaldry and base*
ness : though' by the rules of justice, no man ought
to be ridiculed for any imperfection, who does not
set up for eminent sufficiency in that way wherein
he is defective. Thus cowards, v/ho would hide
themseU'es by an affected terror in their mien and
dress j and pedants, who would shew the depth of
their knowledge by a supercilious gravity, are
equally the objects of laughter. Not that they are
in themselves ridiculous, for their want of courage,
or weakness of understanding; but that they seeni
insensible of their own place in life, and unhappily
rank themselves with those whose abilities, com*
pared to their defects, make them contemptible.
At the same time, it must be remarked, that, risi-
bility being the etVcct of reason, a man ought to bo
expelled from sober company who laughs without
it." ' Ha ha !" says Will Truby, who sat by^
' will any man pretend to give me laws when I
should laugh, or tell me what I should laugh at ?"'
" Look ye," answered Humphy Slyboots, " you are
mightily mistaken ; you may, if you please, make
what noise you will, and nobody can hinder an En-
glish gentleman from putting his face into what
posture lu; thinks lit ; but take my word for it, that
motion which you now make with your mouth
open, and the agitation of your stomach, which
you relieve by holding your sides, is not laughter :
laughter is a more weiglity thing than you imagine;
and I will tell you a secret, you never did lau^h ia
A 2
184- TATI.ER, r." 63.
your life : and truly I am afraid you never will,
except you take great care to be cured of those con-
vulsive lits." Truby left us, and when he had got
two yards from us, " Well," said he, " you are
strange fellows !" and was immediately taken with
another fit.
The Tiubies are a well-natured family, whose
particular make is such, that they have the same
pleasure out of good-will, which other people have
in that scorn which is the cause of laughter j there-
fore their bursting into the figures of men, when
laughing, proceeds only from a general benevolence
they are born with ; as the Slyboots smile only on
the greatest occasion of mirth ; which difference is
caused rather from a different structure of their or-
gans, than that one is less moved than the other.
J know Sourly frets inwardly, when Will Truby
laughs at him ; but when I meet him, and he bursts
out, I know it is out of his abundant joy to see me,
which he expresses by that vociferation which is in
others laughter. But I shall defer considering this
subject at large, until I come to my treatise of osci-
tation, laughter, and ridicule.
From viy oivn Apartment, Septemler 2.
The following letter being a panegyric upon me
for a quality which every man may atiain, an ac-
knowledgement of his faults ; I thought it for the
good of my fellow-writers to publish it.
" Sir,
" It must be allowed, that Esquire BickerstafF
is of all authors the most ingenuous. There are few,
very few, that will own themselves in a mistake,
though all the world see them to be in dov\ nriglit
nonsense. You will be pleased. Sir, to pardon this
expression, for the same reason for which you once
desired us to excuse you, when you seemed any
N" 63. TATLER. \B^
thing dull. Most writers, like the generality of
Paul Lorraine's Saints, seem to place a peculiar va-
nity in dying hard. But you. Sir, to shew a good
example to your brethren, have not only confessed,
but of your own accord mended the indictment.
Nay, you have been so good-natured as to discover
beauties in it, which, I will assure you, he that
drew it never dreamed of. And, to make your ci-
vility the more accomplished, you have honoured
him with the title of your kinsman, which, though
derived by the left-hand, he is not a little proud of.
My brother, for such Obadiah is, being at present
very busy about nothing, has ordered me to return
you his sincere thanks for all these favours ; and as
a small token of his gratitude, to communicate to
you the following piece of intelligence, which, he
thinks, belongs more properly to you, than to any
others of our modern historians.
" MadoncUa, who, as it was thought, had long
since taken her flight towards the JEtherial mansions,
still walks, it seems, in .the regions of mortality;
where she has found, by deep reflections on tlie re-
volution mentioned in yours of June the twenty-
third, that where early instructions have been want-
ing to imprint true ideas of things on the tender
souls of those of her sex, they are never after able
to arrive at such a pitch of perfection, as to be
above the laws of matter and motion ; laws which
are considerably enforced by the principles usually
imbibed in nurseries and boarding-schools. To re-
medy this evil, she has laid the scheme of a college
for young damsels ; where (instead of scissars,
needles, and samplers,) pens, compasses, quadrants,
books, manuscripts, Greek, Latin, and Hebrew,
are to take up their whole time. Only on holidays
the students will, for moderate exercise, be allowed
to divert tliemselvcs with the u^c of some of the
R 3
iSB TATtEft. N 63.
lightest and most voluble weapons j and proper care
will be taken to give them at least a superficial
tincture of the aritient and modern Amazonian
tactics. Of these military performances, the di-
rection is undertaken by Epicene *, the writer of
* Memoirs from the Mediterranean,' who, by the
help of some artificial poisons conveyed by smells,
has within these few weeks brought many persona
of both sexes to an untimely fate ; and, what is
more surprising, has, contrary to her profession,
with the same odours, revived others who had long
since been drowned in the whirlpools of Lethe.
Another of the professors is to be a certain lady,
who is now publishing two of the choicest Saxon
novels, which are said to have been in as great re-
pute with the ladies of queen Emma's court, as
the * Memoirs from the New Atalantis' are with
those of ours. I shall make it my business to in^
quire into the progress of this learned institution,
and give you the first notice of their * Philosophical
Transactions, and Searches after Nature.*
Yours, &c,
TobiaH Greenhat."
St. James's Coffee-house, September 2.
This day we have received advices by the way of
Ostend, which give an account of an engagement
between the French and the Allies, on the eleventh
instant, N. S. Marshal Bouftlers arrived in the
enemy's camp on the fifth, and acquainted marshal
Villars, that he did not come in any character, but
to receive his commands for the king's service, and
communicate to him his orders uyKyn the present
posture of affairs. On the ninth both armies ad-
vanced towards each other, and cannonaded all the
* Epicene means Mrs. D. Manley.
N 64. TATLEft..' 187
ensuing day, until the dose of the evening, and
stood on their arms all that night. On the day of
battle the cannonading was renewed about seven :
the duke of Argyle had orders to attack the wood
Sart on the right, which he executed so successfully,
that he pierced through it, and won a considerable
post. The prince of Orange had the same good
fortune in a wood on the left : after which the whole
body of the confederates, joined by the forces from
the siege, marched up and engaged the enemy, who
were drawn up at some distance from these woods.
The dispute was verr warm for some time ; but to-
wards noon, the French began to give ground from
one wing to the other ; which advantage being ob-
served by our generals, the whole array was urged
on with fresh vigour, and in a few hours the day
ended with the entire defeat of the enemy.
N 64. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1709.
Siuit care: ora cruort nostre t HOR. I. Od. ii. 36.
What coast, encircled by the briny flood,
Boists not the slurlois tribute of our blood.
From my own Apartment, September 5.
When I lately spoke of triumphs, and the be-
haviour of the Romans on tliose occasions, I knew,
by my skill in astrology, that there was a great event
approjching'to our advantage; but, not having yet
taken upon me to tell fortunes, I thought tit to de-
IS^ TATLER, K" 64,
IfTtfie mention of the battle near Mons until it hap-
pened; which moderation was no small pain to me:
but I should wrong ray art, if I concealed that some
of ray aerial intelligencers had signified to mc the
news of it even from Paris, before the arrival of
lieutenant-colonel Graham in England *. All na-
tions, as wi 11 as persons, have their good and evil
genius attending them j but the kingdom of France
has three, the last of which is neither for it nor
against it in reality j but has for some months past
acted an ambiguous part, and attempted to save its
\vard from the incursion of its powerful enemies,
by little subterfuges and tricks, which a nation is
more than undone when it is reduced to practise.
Thus, instead of giving exact accounts and repre-
sentations of things, they tell what is indeed true,
but at the same time a falshood when all the cir-
cumstances come to be related, Pacolet was at the
court of France on Friday night last, when this ge-
nius of that kingdom came thither in the shape of a
post-boy, and cried out, that Mons was rrlievcd,
and the duke of Marlborough marched. Pacolet
was much astonished at this account, and imme-
diately changed his form, and flew to the neigh-
bourhood of Mons, from whence he found the
AlKes had really marched ; and began to inquire
into the reasons of tliis sudden change, and half
feared he had heard a truth of the posture of the
French atfairs, even iji their own country. But,
upon diligent enquiry among the aerials who attend
those regions, and consultation with the neighbour-
ing peasants, he was able to bring me the following
account of the inotions of the armies since they re-
L'ent. Col. Graham cr.me express with an account of the
b,v.tle if Mali^laquet.
N'' 64. TATLER. 189
tired iVom about that place, and the action which
f"ullr)\v('(l thereupon.
On Saturday, the seventh of September, N. S.
the contederate anny was alarmed in their camp at
Ilivrc, by intelligence, that the enemy were march-
ing to attack the prince of Hesse. Upon this ad-
vice, the duke of Marlborough commanded that the
troops should immediately move ; which was ac-
cordingly performed, and they were all joined on
Sunday the eighth at noon. On that day in the
morning it appeared, that instead of being attacked,
the advanced guard of the detachment, commanded,
by tile prince of Hesse, had dispersed and taken
prisoners a party of the enemy's horse, wliich was sent
out to observe the march of the confederates. The
French moved from tiuiverain on Sunday in the
morning, and inclined to the right from thence all
tiiat day. The ninth, the Monday following, tliey
continued their march, until on Tuesday, the tenth,
they possessed themselves of the woods of Dour and
]il.iugies. As soon as they came into that ground,
till y threw up entrenchments with all expedition.
The Allies arrived within few hours after the enemy
Avas posted ; but the duke of Marlborough thought
fit to wait for the arrival of' the reinforcement which
he expected from tlie siege of Tournay. Upon no-
tice that these tr(X)ps were so advanced as to be de-
p uded on for an action the riext day, it was ac-
cordingly resolved to engage the enemy.
it will be necessary for understanding the great-
ness of the action, and the several motions made irv
the time of the engngeinenl, that you have in your
mind an idea of thi; place. T!ie two armies, on the
elcventii instant, were both drawn uj) before the
woods of Dour, Klaugies, b.nt, and Jansart ; the.
army of the prince of Savoy on the right before that
of B!ni!gi<s3 the forces of Great Britain in the
\96 TATtfek. NO 64s-
'center on his left ; those of the higli Allies, with
the wood Sart, as well as a large interval of plain
ground, and Jansart on the left of the whole. The
enemy were intrenched in the paths of the Woods,
and drawn up behind two intrcnchments over-
against them, opposite to the armies of the duke of
Marlborough and prince Eugene. There V/erc also
two lines intrenched in the plains ovef-against the
army of the States. This was the post\ire of the
French and confederate forces when the signal
was given, and the whole line moved on to the
charge.
The Dutch army, commanded by the prince of
Hesse, attacked with the most undaunted bravery,
and, after a very obstinate resistance, forced the
first intrenchmentof the enemy in the plain between
Sart and Jansart ^ but were repulsed in their attack
on the second with great slaughter on both sides.
The duke of Marlborough, while this w^as transact-
ing on the left, had with very much ditficulty
inarched through Sart, and beaten the enemy from
the several intrenchnients they had thrown up in it.
As soon as the duke had marched into the plain, he
observed the main body of the enemy drawn up and
intrenched in the front of his army. This situation
of the enemy, in the ordinary course of war, is usu-
ally thought an advantage hardly to be surmounted ;
and might appear impracticable to any, but that
army which had just overcome greater difficulties.
The duke commanded the troops to form, but to
forbear charging until further order. In the meart
time he visited ihc left of our line, where the troops
of the States had been engaged. The slaughter on
this side had been very great, and the Dutch inca-
pable of making further p.'Ogress, except they were
suddenly reinforced. The right of our line was at-
tacked soon after their coming upon the plain 5 but
V' 64, TATLER. 19\
they drove back the enemy with such bravery, that
the victory began to incline to the Allies by the pre-*
cipitate retreat of the French to tlieir works, from
whence they were immediately beaten. The duke,
upon observing this advantage on the right, com-,
manded the earl of Orkney to march with a suf-
ficient number of battalions, to force the enemy
from their intrenchmcnts on the plain between the
woods of Sart and Jansart ; which being performed,
the horse of the Allies marched into the plains, co-
vered by their own foot, and forming themselves in
good order, the cavalry of the enemy attempted no
rnore, but to cover the foot in their retreat. The
Allies made so good use of the beginning of tlie
victory, th^t all their troops moved on with fresh
resolution, until they saw the enemy fly before
them towards Ck)nde andMaubcuge; after whom
proper detachments were sent, who made a terrible
slaughter in the pursuit.
]n this action, it is said, prince Eugene was
wounded, as also the duke of Aremberg, and lieu-
tenant-general Webb. The covuit of Oxenstern,
colonel Lalo, and SirThomas Pendergrass, were killed.
This wonderful success, obtained under all the
difficulties that could be opposed in the way of an
army, must be acknowledged as owing to the ge-
nius, courage, and conduct of the duke of Marl-
borough, a consummate hero ; who has hved not
only beyond the time in which Ca;sar said he was
arrived at a satiety of life and glory j but also been
so long the subject of panegyric, that it is as hard
to say any thing new in his praise, as to add to tlic
merit which requires sqch culogiums,
Jill's Coffee-house, Septemler 5.
The following letter being very explanatory of the
true design of our lucubrations, and at the samp
19^ tatler. ir 64.
lime an excellent model for pcrfc rming it, it is ab-
solutely necessary, for tlie better uniltrstauding our
Works> to publish it.
** To Isaac BickerStaff, Esq.
*' Sir,
" Though I have hot the honour to be of the fa-
hiily of the Staffs, nor related to any branch of it^
yet I applaud your wholesome project of making
wit useful.
" This is what has been, br should have been,
intended by the best comedies. But nobody, I
think, before you, thought of a way to bring the
stage as it were into the colTee-honsc, and there at-
tack those gentlemen who thought themselves out
of the reach of raillery, by pnuUntly avoiding its
chief walks and districts. I smile when I see a solid
citizen of threescore read the article from Will's
coffee-house, and seem to be just beginning to learn
his alphabet of wit in spectacles; and to hear the
attentive table sometimes stop him with pertirient
queries, which he is puzzled to answer, and thea
join in commending it the sineerest way, by freely
owning he does not understand it.
'' In pursuing this design, you will always hare a
large scene before you, and can never be at a loss
for characters to entertain a town so plentifully
stocked with them. The follies of the finest minds,
which a philosophic surgeon knows how to dissect,
will best employ your skill : and of this sort, I take
the liberty to send you the following sketch.
" Cleontes is a man of good family, good learn-
ing, entertaining conversation, and acute wit. lie
talks well, is master of style, and writes not con-
temptibly in verse. Yet all this serves but to make
him politely ridiculous } and he is above the rank
of common characters, only to have the privilege
N 65. TAtLER. iSi^
of being laughed at by the best. His family makes
him proud and scornful j his learning, assuming
and absurd ; and his wit, arrogant and satirical.
He mixes some of the best qualities of the head
w ith the worst of the heart. Every body is enter-
tained by him, while nobody esteems him. I ara>
Sir, youi" most aftectionate monitor,
" JosiAH Couplet.'*
*j^* Ix)st, from the Coco:i- tree, in Pall-mall, two
Ii'ish dogs, belonging to the pack of London ; one
a tall white wolf-dog ; the other a black nimble
greyhound, not very sound, and supposed to be
gone to the Bath, by instinct, for cure. The man
k>t the iini from whence they ran, being now there,;
is desired, if he meets either of them, to tie them
lip. Several others are lost about Tunbridge and
Epsom ; which whoever will maintain may keep.
N'^ 65. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1709.
^kquid agunt bsmint^
noitii at farrago lihtllL
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86,
Whatever good is lone, ivbatmer ill '
Py human kind, shall this collection filL
IJ^ilCs Cnffi-c- house, S^ptemlery.
7 CAME hither this evening, and expected nothing
rise but mutual congratulations in the company on
thf late victory; but found our room, which one
VOL, II. S
594 TATLEa. K* 65,
would have hoped to have seen full of good humour
and alacrity upon so glorious an occasion, full of
sour animals, inquiring into the action, in doubt of
what had happened, and fearful of the success of
their conntrj'men. It is natural to believe easily
vhat we wish heartily; and a certain rule, that
they are not friends to a glad occasion vho speak all
they can against the truth of it j who end their argu-
raent^against our happiness, that they wish it other-
wise. When I came into the room, a gentltnnn
was declaiming : "If," says he, " we have so great
and complete a victory, why have we not the names
of the prisoners ? Why is not an exact relation of
the conduct of our generals laid before the W(;rld ?
Why do we not know where and whom to applaud?
If we are victorious, why do we not give an account
of our captives and our slain ? But we are to be sa-
tisfied with general notices we are conquerors, and
to believe it so. Sure this is approving the despotic
way of treating the world, which we pretend to
fight against, if we sit down satisfied with such
contradictory accounts, which have the words of
triumph, but do nut bear the spirit of it." I whis-
pered Mr. Greenhat, " Pray, what can that dissa-
tisfied man be ?" " He is," answered he, " a cha-
racter you have not yet perhaps observed. You have
heard of battle-painters, have mentioned a battle-
poet; but this is a battle-critic. He is a fellow
that lives in a government so gentle, that, though
it sees him an enemy, suffers his malice, because
they know his impotence. He is to examine the
weight of an advantage before the company wilZ
allow it." Greenhat was going on in his expla-
nation, when Sir George England thought fit to take
up the discourse in the following manner :
" Gentlemen, The action you are in so great
doubt to approve of, is greater than ever has bee
ISrtS. TATLE^. I^^
performed in any age ; and the value of it I observe
from your disbatisfaction : for battle -critics are like:
ail others ; you are the more offended, the more yoii
ought to be, and are convinced you ought to be
pleased. Had this engagement happened in the
time of the old Romans, and such things been acted
in their service, there would not be a foot of the
wood which was pierced but had been consecrated
to some deity, or made memorable by the death of
him who expired in it for the sake of his country.
It had been said on some monument at the en-
trance ; Here the duke of Argyle drew his sword,
and said ' March.' Here Webb, after having an
'accomptibhed fame for gallantry, exposed himself
like a common soldier. Here Rivett, who wai
wounded at the beginning of the day, and carried
off' as dead, returned to the field, and received his
denth. Medals had been struck for our general's
behaviour when he lirst canle into the plain. Here
was the fury of the action, and here the hero stood
as fearless as if invulnerable. Such certainly had
been the cares of that state for their own honour,
and in gratilude to their heroic subjects. But the
wood intrenched, (he plain made more impassable
than the wood, and all the ditficulties opposed trt
the most gallant army and the most intrepid leadei^s
that ever the sun shone upcn, are treated by the
talk of some in this r(K)m as objections to the merit
of our general and our army : but," continued he,
" I leave all the examination of this matter, and a
proper discourse on our sense of public actions, to
tny friend Mr. Bickerstaff ; who may let beaux and
gamesters res', until he has examined into the re;t-
sons of mens being malccontents, in the only
nation that suffers profeSbcd enemies to breathe in
open air."
s %
I9e TATLER. NoeS.
From my own apartment, Septemler 7.
The following letters are sent to me from re-
lations ; and though I do not know who and who
are intended, I publish them. I have only writ
^lousensc, if there is nothing in them ; and done a
good aciipn, if they alanu any heedless men against
tlic fraternity of the Knights, whom the Greeks
call I'a'oxa^s.
" Mr. BicKERSTAFF, Balk, Aug.^o,
* It is taken very ill by several gentlemen here,
that yoit are so little vigilant, as to let the dogs run
from their kennels to this place. Had you done
your duty, we should have bad notice of their ar-
rival ; but the sharpers are now become so formi-
dable here, that they have divided themselves into
nobles and commons ; beau Bogg, beau Pert, Rake,
and Tallboy, are of their upper house ; broken
captains, ignorant attornies, and such other bank-
rupts from industrious professions, compose their
lower order. Among these two sets of men, there
Jiappened here lately some unhappy differences.
Esquire Humphry came down among us with four
hundred guineas} his raw appearance, and certain
signals in the good-natured muscles of Humphry's
countenance, alarmed the societies ; for sharpers
are as skilful as beggars in physiognomy, and know-
as well where to hope fur plunder, as the others Xo
ask for alms. Pert was the man exactly lilted for
taking with Humphry, as a fine gentleman ; for a
raw fool is ever enamoured with his contrary, a
coxcomb; and a coxcomb is what the booby, who
vants experience, and is unused to company, re-
gards as thi first of men. He ever looks at hira
with c;uy, and would certainly be such, if he were
|3ut oppressed by his rusticity or bashfulness. Therq
Ijo 65. TATLER. }9f
arose an entire friendship by tliis sympathy between
Pert and Humphry, which ended in stripping the
latter. We now could see this forlorn youth for
some days moneyless, without sword, and one day
"without his hat, and with secret melancholy pining;
for his snuff-box; tlie jest of the whole towu^ hu%
most of those who robbed him.
" At last fresh bills came down, when imriledi'*
ately their countenances cleared up, antient kind^
nesses and familiarity renewed, and to dinner he
was invited by the fraternity. You are to know,
that while he was in his days of solitude, a com-
moner, who was excluded from his share of the
prey, had whimpered the esquire, that he was bit^
and cautioned him of venturing again. However,
hopes of recovering his snuft'-box, which was given
him by his aunt, made him fall to play after din-
ner ; yet, mindful of what he was told, he saw
something that provoked him to tell them, they
were a company of sharpers. Presently Tallboy felj
on him, and, being too hard at fisty-cuffs, drove
him out ot doors. The valiant Pert followed, and
kicked him in his turn ; which the esquire resented,
as being nearer his match ; so challenged him : but
differing about time and place, friends interposed,
for he had still money left, and persuaded him to
ask pardon for provoking them to beat him, and
they asked his fordoing it. The house, consulting,
whence Humphry could have his information, con-
cluded it must be from some malicious commoner j
and, to be revenged, beau Hogg watched their
haunts, and in a shop where some of them were at
play with ladies, shewed dice which he found, or
pretended to find, upon them ; and, declaring how
false they were, warned the company to take care
who they played with. By his seeming candour,
he cleared his reputation at least to fools and some
2
i9ft TATLERi W 65i
fiilly women ; but it was still blasted by the esquire**
story with thinking men : however, he gained a
great point by it ; for the next day he got the com-
pany shut up with himself and fellow-members,
and robbed them at discretion.
" I cannot express to you with what Indignation I
behold the noble spirit of gentlemen degenerated
to that of private cut-purses. It is in vain to hope
a remedy, while so many of the fraternity get and
enjoy estates of twenty, thirty, and fifty thousand
pounds, with impunity, creep into the best conver-
Baiions, and spread the infectious villauy through
the nation, while the lesser rogues, that rob lor
hunger or nakedness, are sacrificed by the blind,
and, in this respect, partial and defective law.
Could you open men's eyes against the occasion of
all this, the great corrupter of our manners and mo-
rality, the author of more bankrupts than the war,
and sure bane of all industr)--, frugality, and good-
nature ; in a word, of all virtues ; I mean, public
or private play at cards or dice j how willingly would
I contribute my utmost, and possibly send you some
memoirs of the lives and politics of some of thfc
fraternity of great figure, that might be of use to
you in setting this in a clear light against next
session ; that all who care for their country or pos-
terity, and see the pernicious effects of such a public
vice, may endeavour its destruction by some ef-
fectual laws. In concurrence to this good design,
I remain your humble servant, &c."
" Mr. BicKERSTAFF, Friday, Sept. 2.
" I heartily join with you in your laudable de-
sign against the Myrmidons, as well as your late in-
sinuations against Coxcombs of Fire ; and I take
tliis opportunity to congratulate you on the success
f your labours, which I gbsened yesterday iu ouc
ir 66a tatler, ig^
of the hottest fire-men in town ; who riot only af-
fects a soft smile, but was seen to be thrice con-
tradicted without showing any sign of impatience.
These, I say, so happy beginnings promise fair, and
on this account I rejoice you have undertaken to
nnkennel the ears ; a work of such iise, that I ad-
mire it so long escaped your vigilance ; and exhort
jrou, by the concern you have for the good people
ot England, to pursue your design : and, tl>at these
rermin may not flatter themselves that they pass un-
discovered, I desire you would acquaim Jack
Haughty, that the whole secret of his bubbling his
friend with the Swiss at the Thatched-house is welt
known, as also his sweetening the knight j and I
shall acknowledge the favour.
Your most humble servant, &g
N 66. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, itOSf.
^icquid agunt homines-
noUri tit farrago lihelli,
JUV. Sat. I. 8s, 85.
Whate'er mert Jo, or say, or think, or dream.
Our motley paper seizes for its theme.
P.
JViirs Coffee-house, Septemlet 9.
The subject of the discourse this evening 'was elo-
quence and graceful action. Lysander, who is
something particular in his way of thinking and
speaking, told us, ** a man could not be eloquent
?00 TATLER. K 6,
without action : for the deportment of the body,
the turn of the eye, and an apt sound to every word
that is uttered, must all conspire to make an accom-
plished speaker. Action in one that speaks in pub-
lic, is the same thing as a good mien in ordinary
life. Thus, as a certain insensibility in the coun-
tenance recommends a sentence of humour and jest,
so it must be a very hvely consciousness that gives
grace to great sentiments. The jest is to be a thing
unexpected ; therefore your undesigning manner is
a beauty in expressions of mirth ; but when you are
to talk on a set subject, the more you are moved
yourself, the more you will move others.
" There is," said he, " a remarkable example of
that kind. iEschincs, a famous orator of antiqtiity,
had pleaded at Athens in a great cause against De-
mosthenes ; but having lost it, retired to Rhodes."
Eloquence was then the quality most admired among
men ; and the magistrates of that place, having
heard he had a copy of the speech of Demosthenes,
desired him to repeat both their pleadings. After
his own, he recited also the oration of his anta-
gonist. The people expressed their admiration of
both, but more of that of Demosthenes. *^ If you
arc," said he, " thus touched with hearing only
what that great orator said, how would you have
been affected had you seen him speak ? For he who
hears Demosthenes only, loses much the better part
of the oration." Certain it is that they who speak
gr'acefully are very lamely represented in having
their speeches read or repeated by unskilful people j
for there is something native to each man, so inhe-
rent to his thoughts and sentiments, which it is
hardly possible for another to give a true idea of.
You may observe in common talk, when a sentence
of any man's is repeated^ an acquaintance of his
KO 65. TATLER. 201
shall immediately observe, " that is so like him,
mrthinks I see how he looked when he said it."
But ot all the people on the earth, there are none
who puzzle me so much as the Clergy of Great-
Britain, who are, I believe, the most learned body
of men now in the world ; and yet this art of speaking,
with the proper ornaments of voice and gesture, is
wholly neglected nmong them ; and I will engage,
were a deaf man to behold the greater part of then\
preach, he would rather think they were reading the
contents only of some discourse they intended tq
make, than actually in the body of an oration, even
when they are upon matters of such a nature, a?
one would believe it were impossible to think of
without emotion.
I own there are exceptions to this general obser-
vation, and that the Dean we heard tlie other day
together is an orator *. He has so much regard to
his congregation, that he commits to his memory
y/hat he has to say to them ; and has so soft and
graceful a behaviour, that it must attract your at-
tention. His person, it is to be confessed, is no
small recommendation ; but he is to be highly com-
nit nded Jbr not losing that advantage, and adding
to tlie propriety of speech, which might pass the
criticism oi Longinus, an action whjch would have
been approved by Demosthenes. He has a peculiar
force in his way, and has many of his audience )
who could not be intelligent hearers of his dis-
course, were there not explanation a? well as grace
in his action. This art of his is used with the most
exact and honest skill : he never attempts your
passions until he has convinced your reason. AU
* Dr Atteibury.
+ At the ch pel of HriilcweU Hospital, where he was tweni|
yeais minibicr .Uid prc.ic!ier.
SOlS TATLER. N" ^9.
the objections \v!uch he can form are laid open and
dispersed, before he uses the least vehemence in hw
sermon ; but when he thinks he has your head, he
Very soon wins your heart ; and never pretends to
show the beauty of holiness, until he hatli coiv-
vinced you of the truth of it.
Would every one of our clergymen be thus care-
ful to recommend truth and virtue in their proper
figures, and show so much concern for them as to
give them all the additional force they were able, it
is not possible that nonsense should have so many
hearers as you find it has in dissenting congre-
gations, for no reason in the world, but because it
is spoken extempore : for ordinary minds are wholly
governed by their eyes and ears, and there is no way
to come at thieir hearts, but by power over tlieir
imaginations.
There is my friend and merry companion Daniel*.
He knows a great deal better than he speaks, and
can form a proper discourse as well ns any orthodox
neighbour. But he knows very well, that to bawl
out " My beloved !" and tlie words " grace !" '' re-
generation !" " sanctification !" "a new light!"
*' the day ! the day ! ay, my beloved, the day ! or
rather the night ! tlie night is coming !" and
" judgment will come, when we least think of it !"
and so forth. He knows to be vehement is the
only way to come at his audience. Daniel, when
he sees my friend Greenhat come in, can give a
good hint, and cry out, " This is only tor the
saints ! the regenerated !"* By this force of action,
though mixed with all the incoherence and ribaldry
* Dr. Paiiifcl Burgess, who preached to a congre^r^tion of
independetirs at the iiieeting-tiuuse in a court aUjoiniixg t
Cjuey-stieec, near Liuculu's Ian.
N' 66, TATLER. 303
imaginable, Daniel can laugh at his diocesan, antj
grow fat by voluntary subscription, while the parson
of the parish goes to law for half his dues. Daniel
will tell you, "it is not the shepherd, but the
sheep with the bell, which the flock follows."
Another thing, very wonderful this learned body
should omit, is, learning to read ; which is a most
necessary part of eloquence in one who is to serve
at ll>e altar : for there is no man but must be sen-
sible, that the lazy tone, and inarticulate sound of
our common readers, depreciates the most proper
form of words that were ever extant, in any nation
or languns;^, to speak our own wants, or his power
from vk hom we ask relief.
Tliere cannot be a greater instance of the power
of action, than in little parson Dapper, who is the
common relief to all the lazy pulpits in town. This
smart youth has a very good memory, a quick eye,
and a clean handkerchief. Thus equipped, be opens
his text, shuts bis book fairly, shows he has no
notes in his Bible, opens both palms, and shows all
is fair there too. Thus, with a decisive air, my
young man goes on without hesitation j and though
from the beginning to the end of his pretty dis-
course he has not used one proper gesture, yet at
the conclusion the churchwarden pulls his gloves
from oft' his hands ; " Pray, who is this extraordi-
nar)' young man ?" Thus the force of action is
such, that it is more prevalent, even when im-
proper, than all the reason and argument in the
world without it. This gentleman concluded his
discourse by saying, " I do not doubt but if our
preachers would learn to speak, and our readers to
read, within six months time we should not have a
dissenter within a mile of a church in Great-
tritaiu."
204 -tATLElii ii' 66,
From my otvn Apartment, Septemler 9.
i have a letter from a young fellow, who com-
plains to me that " he was bred a mercer, and is
now just out of his time; but unfortunately (for
he has no manner of education suitable to his pre-
sent estate) an uncle has left him one thousand
pounds per annum " The young man is Sensible,
that he is so ?pruce, that he fears he shall never be
genteel as long as he lives ; but applies himself to
hie to know what method to take, to help his air,
and be a fine gentleman.
He says, " that several of those ladies who were
formerly his customers, visit his mother on purpose
to fall in his way, and fears he shall be obliged to*
marry against his will 3 for," says he, "if any of
them should ask me, I shall not be able to deny
her. lam," says he further, " utterly at a loss how-
to deal with them j for though I was the most pert
creature in the world when I was forenian, and
could hand a woman of the first quality to her coach
as well as her own gentleman usher, I am now quite
out of my way, and speechless in their company.
TI:ey commend my modesty to my face. No one
scruples to say, Icertainlyshould make the best hus-
band in the world, a man of my sober education.
Mrs. Would-be watches all opportunities to be alone
with me: therefore, good Mr. Bickcrstjfi^', here are
my writings inclosed : if you can find any flaw in.
my title, so as it may go to the next heir, who goes
to St. James's colfee-house, and White's, and could
enjoy it, I should be extremely well pleased with
two thousand pounds to setup my trade, and live in
a way 1 know I should become, rather tlian be
laughed at all my life among too good company. If
you could send for my cousai^ and persuade him to
fs' 60. TATLtti, 26
take the estate on these terms, and let nobody know
it, you would extremely oblige nie."
Upon first sight, I thought tliis a very whimsical
proposal ; however^ upon more mntiire considera-
tion, I could not but admire the young gentleman's
prudence and good sense ; for there is nothing so
irksome as livii>g in a way a man knows he does not
become. I consulted Mr. Obadiah Greenhat * on
this occasion, and he is so well pleased with the
man, that he has half a mind to take the estate
himself J but, upoli second thoughts, he proposed
this expi'dicnt : "I should be very willing," said
ho, " to keep the estate where it is, if we could
make the young man any way easy ; therefore, I
humbly propose, he should take to drinking for one
half year, and make a sloven of him, and from
tlicnce begin his education a-new : for it is a max-
im, that one who is ill-taught is in a worse con-
dition than he who is wholly ignorant 5 therefore a
spruce mercer is farther off the air of a fine gentlc-
MKUi than a down-right clown. To make our patient
any thing better, we must unmake him what he
is." I indeed proposed to flux him ; but Greenhat
answered, ' that if he recovered, he would be as
prim and feat as ever he was." Therefore he would
have it his way, and our friend is to drink until he
is carbunclcd and tun-bellied ; after which we will
send him down to smoke and be buried with his
ancestors in Derbyshire. I am indeed desirous he
should have his life in the estate, because he has
.such a just sense of himself and his abilities, as to
know that it is an unhappiness to him to be a man
of fortune.
This youth seems to understand, that a gentle-
man's life is tliat oi all others tlie hardest to pass
* Mr, Obadiah Greenhat means AiIili3on
VOL. U, X
206 TATLER. N= 66%
through with propriety of behaviour ; for though he
lias a support without art or labour, yet his manner
of enjoying that circumstance is a thing to be con-
eiderevl ; and you see, among men who are ho-
noured with the common appellation of gentlemen,
so many contradictions to that character, that it is
the utmost ill-fortune to bear it : for which reason I
am obliged to change the circumstances of several
about this town. Harry Lacker is so very exact in
his dress, that I shall give his estate to his younger
brother, and make him a dancing-master. Noke.-;
Lightfoot is so nimble, and values himself so much
upon it, that I have thoughts of making him hunts-
man to a pack of beagles, and giving his land ta
somebody that will stay upon it.
Now I am upon the topic of becoming what we
enjoy, I forbid all persons who are not of the first
quality, or who do not bear some important olfice
that requires so much distinction, to go to Hyde-
Park with six horses j for I cannot but esteem it
the highest insolence. Therefore hereafter no man
shall do it merely because he is able, without any
other pretension. But, what may serve all pur-
poses quite as well, it shall be allowed all such who
think riches the chief distinction, to appear in
the ring with two horses only, and a rent-roll
hanging out of each side of their coach. This is
a thought of Mr. Greenhat's, who designs very
soon to publish a sumptuary discourse upon the sub-
ject of equipage, wherein he will give us rules on
that subject, and assign the proper duties and qua-
lifications of masters and servants, as well as that of
husbands and wives ; with a treatise of oeconomy
without doors, or the complete art of appearing in
the world. This will be very useful to ail who ax
suddenly rich, or are ashamed of being poor.
ti G6. TATLER. fiOl
. Sunt rerta p!aeu!a, quiC le
7er Pure UctiJ foterunt recreate iiiclh.
HOR.I. Ep. i. 36,
Am! j like a cliarm, fo ;h* iipiig'it w.ind and pure.
If thrice rcsd o'er, will yield a certain cure.
I have notice of a new pack of dogs, of quite
Another sort than hitherto mentioned. I have not
an exact account of their way of hunting, the fol-
lowing letter giving only a bare notice of them :
" Sir, Septcmler 7.
" There are another pack of dogs to be disposed
of, who kennel about Charing Cross, at the old Fat
Dog's, at the corner of Buckingham Court, near
Spring Garden : two of them are said to \)C wlielped
in Alsatia *, now in ruins ; but they, with the rest
of the pack, are as pernicious, as if the old kennel
had never been bloken down. The antients distin-
guished this sort of curs by the name of Htrrcdi-
petes, the most pernicious of all biters, for seizing
young heirs, especially when their estates are eft-
tailed ; whom they reduce by one good bite to such
a condition, that they cannot ever after come to the
use of their teeth, or get a smelling of a crust. You
are desired to di-pose of these as soon as you can, that
the breed m;iy not increase ; and your care in tying
them up will be acknow lodged by, Sir,
Your hurhble servant,
Philamhropos."
St. James's Cr> [fee-house, September 9.
We have received letters from the duke of Marl-
borough's camp, which bring us further particulars
of the great and gloiious victory obtained over the
enemy on the eleventh instant, N.S. The number
Wlilte Friar$.
T a
JiOB TATLER. N" 67,
of the wounded and prisoners is much greater than
was expected from our first account. Ihe day was
doubtful until after twelve of tlie clock ; but the
enemy made little resistance after their first line oi^
the left began to give way. An exact narration of
the whole atlair is expected next post. The French
have had two days allowed them to bury their dead,
and carry off their wounded men, upon i)ar()lc.
Those regiments of Great-Britain which suflcrcd
most are ordered into garrison, and fresh troops
commanded to march into the field. The States
have also directed troops to march out of the towns,
to relieve those who lost so many men in attacking
the second intrenchment of the French in tlie plain
J^etween Sart and Jansart.
^67. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1709,
Quicquid agunt homines
pojlii ejl farrago lihtUi.
JUV. Sat. 1.85, 86
Whate'er men do, or sny, or think, or dre.im,
Our motley paper feizes for its theme, P.
From my own A[)arlment, Septemier 12.
No man can conceive, until he comes to try it, how
great a pain it is to be a public-spirited person. I
am sure I am unable to express to llie world what
great anxiety I have suffered, to see of how littlo
benefit my Lucubrations have been to my fellow-
gubjccts. JNIeu will go on in their own wavj iu-
N" 67. TATLER. 209
spite of all my labour. I gave Mr. DIdapper a pri-
vate reprimand for wearing red-heeled shoes, and
at the same time was so indulgent as to connive at
iiini for fourteen days, because. I would give hinti
the wearing of them out ; but, after all this, I ana
informed he appeared yesterday with a new pair of
the same sort. I have no better success with Mr,
What-d'ye-call, as to his buttons; Stentor still
roars ; and box and dice rattle as loud as they did
before I writ against them. Partridge walks about
at noon day, and jEsculapius thinks of adding a
new lace to his livery. However, 1 must still go
on in laying these enormities before men's eyes, and
let them answer for going on in their practice.
My province is much larger than at first sight
men would imagii^, and 1 shall lose no part of my
jurisdiction, which extends not only to futurity,
but also is retrospect to things past ; and the be-
haviour of persons, who have long ago acted tlieir
parts, is as much liable to my examination, as that
of my own contemporaries.
In order to put the whole race of mankind in their
proper distinctions, according to the opinion their
toh:ibit.uits conceived of them, I have with very
much care, and depth of meditation, thought fit to
erect a chamber of Fame, and established certain
rales, which are to be observed in admitting mem-
bers into tliis illustrious society.
In this chamber of Fame there are to be three
tables, but of diHerent lengtlis j the first is to con-
tain exactly twelve persons} the second, twenty;
and tlie third, an hundred. This is reckoned to be
the full number of those who have any competent
share of Fame. At the first of th( se tables are to
be placed in their order the twelve most famous
persons in the world j not with regard to the tilings
they arc famous fur, but according to tlie degree di
T 3
210 tATLER* N'' 6l*
their Fame, whether in valour, wit, or learning.
Thus, if a scholar be more famous than a soldier,
he is to sit above him. Neither must any pre-
ference be given to virtue, if the person be not
equally famous.
When the first table is filled, the next rn renowit
must be seated at the second, and so on in like man-
ner to the number of twenty ; as also in the same
order at the third, which is to hold a hundred. At
these tables, no regard is to be had to seniority : for
if Julius Caesar shall be judged more famous than
Romulus and Scipio, he must have the precedence-
No person who has not been dead an hundred years
must be oflered to a place at any of these tables :
and because this is altogether a lay-society, and that
sacred persons move upon greater motives than that
of fame, no persons celebrated in holy writ, or any
ecclesiastical men whatsoever, are to be introduced
here.
At the lower end of the room is to be a side-tabl
for persons of great fame, but dubious existence;
such as Hercules, Theseus, JEncas, Achilles, Hec-
tor, and otliers. But because it is apprehendedy
that there may be great contention about precedence,
the proposer humbly desires the opinion of the
learned towards bis assistance in placing every per-
son according to his rank, that none may have just
occasion of offence.
The merits of the cause shall be judged by plu-
rality of voices.
For the more impartial execution of this impor-
tant aft'air, it is desired, that no man will offer his
favourite hero, scholar, or poet ; and that the learn-
ed will be pleased to send to Mr. BickerstaflT, at Mr.
Morphcw's near Stationers-hall, their several lists
for the first table only, and in the order they would
have them placed ; after which the proposer wiil
!l 61. tATLER. fiH
compare the several lists, and make another for the
public, wherein every name shall be ranked ac-
cording to the voices it has had. Under this cham-
ber is to be a dark vault for the same number of
persons of evil fame.
It is humbly submitted to consideration, whether
the project would not be better if the persons of true
fame meet in a middle room, those of dubious ex.-
istence in an upper room, and those of evil fame in
a lower dark room.
It is to be noted, that no historians are to be ad-
mitted at any of these tables ; because they are ap-
pointed to conduct the several persons to their
seats, and are to be made use of as ushers to thcf
assemblies.
I call upon the learned world to send me their as-
sistance towards this design, it being a matter of too
great moment for any one person to determine. But
I do assure them, their lists shall be examined with
gi'eat fidelity, and those that are exposed to the
public, made with all the caution imaginable.
In the mean time, while I wait for these lists, I
am employed in keeping people in a right way, ta
avoid the contrary to fame and applause, to wit,
blame and derision. For this end, I work upon
tliat useful project of the penny-post, by the benefit
of \\liich it is proposed, that a charitable society be
established : from which society there shall go every
day circular letters to all parts within the bills of
mortality, to tell people of their faults in a friendly
and private manner, whereby they may know what
the world thinks of them, before it is declared to
the world that they arc thus faulty. This method
cannot fail of universal good consequences : for it is
further added, that they who will not be reformed
by it, must be contented to see the several letters
printed, which were not regarded by them, that
212 TATLER. K= 67.
when they will, not take private reprehension, they
may be trit-d further by a public one. I am very
sorry I am obliged to print the following epistles of
tliat kind to some persons, and the more because they
are of the fair sex.
This went on Friday last to a very fine lady.
" Madam,
*' I am highly sensible, that there is nothing of
EO tender a nature as the reputation and conduct of
ladies; and that when there is the least stain got
into their fame, it is hardly ever to be washed out.
When I have said this, you will believe I am ex-
trcyncly concerned, to hear, at every visit I make,
that your manner of wearing your hair is sx mere af-
fectation of beauty, as well as that your neglect of
powder has been a common evil to your sex. It is
to you an advantage to show that abundance of line
tresses: but I beseech you to consider, that the
force of your beauty, and the imitation of you, costs
Eleonora great sums of money to her tire-woman for
false locks, besides what is allowed to her maid for
keeping the secret, that she is gray. I must take
leave to add to this admonition, that you are not to
reign above four months and odd days longer.
Therefore, I must desire you to raise and friz your
hair a little, fur it is downright insolence to be tluis
handsome without art ; and you will forgive me for
intreating you to do now out of compassion, what
you must soon do out of necessity. I am, Madam,
Your most obedic.it, and most humble servant."
This person dresses just as she did before I writ j
as does also the lady to whom I addressed tlie fol-
lowing billet the same day :
*' Madam,
*' Let me beg of you to take off the patches at the
lower end of your left cheekj and 1 will allow two
N" 67. TATLER. 213
more under your left eye, which will contribute
luore to the symmetry of your lace ; except you
would please to remove the ten black atoms on your
iadyship's chin, and wear one large patch instead of
them. If so, you may properly enough retain the
three patches above-mcniioned. I am, &c."
This, I tliought, had all the civility and reason ia
thc.v.orld in it; but whether my letters are inter-
cepted, or whatever it is, the lady patches as she
used to do. It is lobe observed by all the charitable
society, as an instruction in their epistles, that they
tell people lA' nothing but what is in their power to
jncnd. I ihiiU give another instance of this way of
writing : two sisters in Essex-street are eternally
gaping out of the window, as if they knew not the
value of time, or would call in companions. Upoa
which 1 writ the lollowing line :
" Dear Creatures,
" On the receipt of this, shut your casements."
But I went by yesterday, and found them still at
the window. What can a man do in this case, but
go on, and wrap him>lf up in his own integrity,
with satisfaction only in this melancholy truth, that
virtue is its own reward ; and that if no one is the
better tor his admonitions, yet he is himself the
paore virtuous in ihat he gave tllo^e advices ?
St. James's Coffee-house, Septeinler 13.
Letters of the thirteenth instant, from the Duke
of Mailb.onnigli's camp at Havre advise, that the
necessary dispositions were made for opening the
trenches before Mons The direction of the siege is
to be commiliid to the I'rince of Orange, who de-
sign.- d to t.ike liis post accordingly with thirty bat-
talions iiiid thirty stjuadrons on the d;iy foUuwuig.
2l4 TATLER. ^o 67.
On the seventeenth Lieutenant-General Cadogan
set out for Brussels, to hasten the ammunition and
artillery which is to be employed in this enterprize;
and the confederate army wjjs extended frcjm the
Haisne to the Trouille, in order to cover the siege.
The lossof the contedcratcs in the late battle is not
exactly known ; but it appears, by a list irausniitted
to the States-General, that the number of the killed
and wounded in tlieir service amounts to above eight
thousand. It is computed, that the English have
lost fifteen hundred meni and the test of the allies
above five thousand, including the woulided. The
States-General have taken the most speedy and ef-
fectual nieasures for reinforcing their troops ; and it
is expected, that in eight or ten days the army will
be as numerous as before the battle. The affairs in
Italy afibrd us nothing remarkable; only that it is
hoped, the difference between the courts of Vienni
and Turin will be speedily accommodated. Letters
from Poland present us with a near prospect of see-
ing king Aui,u.stus re-established on the throne, all
parties being very industrious to reconcile them*
selves to his interests.
Wiirs Coffee-house, Septemler 12.
Of all the pretty arts in which our modern writers
fexcel, there is not any which is more to be recom-
mended to the imitation of beginners, than the skill
of transition from one subject to another. I know
not whether I make myself well understood ; hut it
IS certain, that the way of stringing a discourse,
used in the Mercure Gallant, the Gentleman's
Journal*, and other learned writings; not to men-
tion how naturally things present themselves to
such as harangue in pulpits, and other occasions
* Fublishetl about the epj of th seventeenth century, in 4(0*
K=> 67. TATLER. 215
which occur to the learned ; are methods worthy
commendation. I shall attempt this style myself ia
a few lines. Suppose I was discoursing upon the
king of Sweden's passing the Boristhenes. The
Bi.risthenes is a great river, and puts me in mind of
the Danube and the Rhine. The Danube I cannot
think of, without reflecting on tliat unhappy prince
who had such fair territories on the banks of it ; I
mean the duke of Bavaria, who by our last letters
is retired from Mons. Mons is as strong a fortifi-
cation as any which has no citadel : and places
which are not completely fortiried are, methinks,
lessons to princes, that they are not omnipotent,
but li;'.ble* to the strokes of fortune. But as all
princes are subject to such calamities, it is the part
of nu;n of letters to guard them from the obser-
vations of all small writers : for which reason, I
shall conclude my present remarks, by publishing
the f )llowing advertisement, to be taken notice of
by all who dwell in the suburbs of learning :
" Whereas the king of Sweden has been so un-
fortunate as to receive, a wound in his heel ; we do
hereby proiiibit all epigrammatists in either language
and hulh Universities, as well as all other poets, of
what denomination soever, to make any mention of
Achilles having received his death's wound in the
same part.
" We do likewise forbid a'l comparisons in coffee-
houses between Alexander the Great and the said
king of Sweden, and fr(>m making any parallels be-
tween the death of Palkul and Pliii-tas; we being
very apprehensive of the reflections that several po-
liticians have ready by them to produce on this oc-
ca>ion, and being willing, as much as in us lies,
to nxe the Igwu from all im|)crtincuccs of tliiji
nature."
216 TAtler. n^ 6Si
N68. THURSDAY, SEPTEINIBKR 15, 1709,
S^.'cjuiJ agunl homines ^
noslri e it farrago lilt HI.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, %6.
tVhate'er nhen (!o, or say, or think, or Jrcam,
Our motley paper seizes for its theme, P.
From mrj own Apartment, Scplemler 14,
The progress of our endeavours will of necessity
be very much interrupted, except the learned worlcJ
will please to send their lists to the chamber of
Fame with all expedition. There is nothing can sa
much contribute to create a noble emulation in our
youth, as the honourable mention of such whose
actions have outlived the injuries of time, and re-
commended themselves so far to the work!, that it
is become learning to know the least circumstance
of their a flairs. It is a great incentive to see, that
some men have raised themselves so highly above
their fellow-creatures, that the lives of ordinary
men are spent in inquiries after the particular
actions of the most illustrious. True it is, that
without this impulse to fame and reputation, our
industry would stagnate, and tiiat lively desire of
pleasing each other die away. This opinion was so
established in the heathen world, that their sense of
living appeared insipid, except their being was en-
livened with a consciousness that they were esteemed
by the rest of the world.
Upon examining the proportion of men's fam
for my table of twelve, I thought it no ill way
N" 68. TATLER. 217
(since I had laid it down for a rale, that they were
to be ranked simply as they were famous, without
regard to their virtue) to ask my sister Jenny's ad-
vice ; and particularly mentioned to her the name
of Aristotle. She immediately told me, he was a
very i^rent scholar, and that she had read him at the
boarding-school. She certainly means a trifle, sold
by the hawkers called " Aristotle's Problems." But
this raised a great scruple in me, whether a fame
increased by imposition of others is to be added to
his account, or tiiat these excrescences, which grow
out of his real reputation, and give encouragement
to others to pass tilings under the covert of his name,
should be considered in giving him his seat in the
chamber ? This punftilio is referred to the learned.
In the mean time, so ill-natured are mankind, that
I believe I have names already sent me sufficient to
fill up my lists fur the dark room, and every one i
apt enough to send in their accounts of ill deservers.
This malevolence does not proceed from a real dis-
like of virtue, but a diabolical prejudice against it,
which makes men willing to destroy what they care
not to imitate. Thus you see the greatest characters
among your acquaintance, and those you live with,
are traduced by all below them in virtue, who never
mention them but with an exception. However, I
believe I shall not give the world much trouble
about filling my tables for those of evil fame; for I
have some thoughts of clapping up the sharpers there
as fast as I can lay hold of them.
Atpresciit, I am employed in looking over the se-
veral notices which I have received of their manner
of dexterity, and the way at dice of making all rugg,
as the cant is. The whole art of securing a div has
lately been sent me, by a person wh' was of the
fraternity, but is disabled by the loss of a finger ; by
which means he cannot practise that trick as lie used
VOL. u. U
218 TATLr.R. ji" f;,'?.
to do. But I am very much at a loss how to rail
some of the fair, who are accompiirrs with the
Knights of Industry j for my metaphorical dogs are
easily enough understood ; but the ftmiriine gender
of dogs has so harsh a sound, that \\^ know not how
to name it. But I am credibly infornu-d, that there
are female dogs as voracious as the males, and make
advances to young fellows, without any other design
but coming to a familiarity with their purses. 1
have also long lists of persons of condition, who are
certiinly of the same regimen with these banditti,
and instrumental to their cheats upon nndiscerning
men of their own rank. I'hese add their good re-
putation to carry on the impostures of others, wiiose
very names would else be defence enough against
falling into their hands. But, for the honour of our
nation, these shall be unmentioncd ,- provided we
hear no more of such practices, and that they shall
not from henceforward sutler the society of suc!> as
they know to be the common enemies of order, dis-
cipline, and virtue. If it appear that they go on in
encouraging them, they must be proceeded against
according to the severest rules of history, where all
is to be laid before the world with impartiality, and
witliout respect to persons,
** So let the stricken deer go weep."
ff'lirs Coffee-house, Sepfemler 14.
I find left here for me the following epistle :
" Sir,
" Havins: lately read your discourse about the fa-
rnily of theTrubies, wherein you observe, that there
are some who fall into laughter out of a certain be-
nevolence in their ten)per, and not out of the ordi-
nary motive, viz. contempt, and triumph over tlic
N' 63. TATLER. 219
imperfections of others ; I have conceived a good
idea of your knowledge of mankind. And, as you
have a tragi-comic genius, I beg the favour of you
to give us your thoughts of a quite ditierent etFect,
which also is caused by other motives than what
are commonly taken notice of. What I would have
you treat of, is the cause of shedding tears. I de-
sire you would discuss it a little, with observations
upon the various occasions which provoke us to that
expression of our concern, &c."
To obey this complaisant gentleman, I know no
way so short as examining the various touches of my
own bosom, on several occurrences in a long life, to
the evening of whicli I am arrived, after as many
various incidents as any body has met with. I have
often rcrtcctcd, that there is a great similitude in the
motions of the heart in mirth and in sorrow; and I
think the usual occasion of the latter, as well as the
former, is something which is sudden and unex-
pected. The mind has not a sufficient time to re-
collect its force, and immediately gushes into tears
before we can utter ourselves by speech or com-
])laint. The most notorious causes of these drops
iVom our eyes are pity, sorrow, joy, and recon-
ciliation.
The fiiir sex, who are made of man and not of
earth, have a more delicate humanity than we
have J and pity is the most common cause of their
tears : for as we are inwardly composed of an apti-
tiule to ev(-ry circumstance of life, and every thing
t!i;U befalls any one pcr-^on migiii have happened to
any other of human race ; selt-love, and a ense of
tJie piin wc ourselves should sulfer in the circum-
staiKt s of any whom we pity, is the cause of that
compassion. Such a reflection in the brc.i.-.t of a
woman, immediately inclines her to tears j but in a
u 2
220 TATLER. N" 68*
man, it makes him tliink how such a one ought to
act on th;it occasion suitably to the dignity of his
nature. Thus a woman is ever moved for those
whom she hears lament, and a man for those whom
he observes to sutitr in silence. It is a man's own
behaviour in the circumstances he is under, which
procures him the esteem of others, and not merely
. he affliction itself which demands our pity ; for we
never give a man that passion which he falls into
for himself. He that commends himself never pur-
chases our applause j nor he who bewails himself,
our pity.
Going through an alley the other day, I observed
a noisy impudent beggar bawl out, " tliat he was
wounded in a merchant-man ; that he had lost his
poor limbs j" and shewed a leg clouted up. All
that passed by, made what haste they could out of
his sight and hearing : but a poor fellow at the end
of the passage, with a msty coat, a melancholy air,
and soft voice, desired them " to look upon a man
not used to beg." The latter received the charity of
almost every one that went by. The strings of the
heart, which are to be touched to give us com-
passion, are not so phyed on but by the finest hand.
We see in tragical representations, it is not the
pomp of language, nor the magnificence of dress, in
which the passion is wrought, that touches sensible
spirits ; but something of a plain and simple na-
ture, which breaks in upon our souls, by that sym-
pathy which is given us for our mutual good-will
and service.
In the tragedy of " Macbeth," where Wilks acts
the part of a man whose family has been murdered
in his absence, the wildness of his passion, which
is run over in a torrent of calamitous circumstances,
does but raise my spirits, and give me the alarm :
but when he skilfully seems to be out of breath.
K' 68. TATLER. 221
and is brought too low to say more ; and upon a se-
cond reflection cries only, wiping his eyes, " What,
both children ! Both, both my children gone !"
there is no resisting a sorrow which seems to have
cast about for all the reasons possible for its conso-
lation, but has no resource. " There is not one
left; but both, both are murdered!" such sudden
starts from the thread of the discourse, and a plain
sentiment expressed in an artless way, are the irre-
sistible strokes of eloquence and poetry. The same
great master, Shakspeare, can afford us instances of
all the places where our souls are accessible; and
ever commands our tears. But it is to be observed,
that he draws them from some unexpected source,
which seems not wholly of a piece with the dis-
course. Thus, when Brutus and Cassius had a de-
bate in the tragedy of " Caesar," and rose to warm
language against each other, insomuch that it had
almost come to something that might be fatal, until
they recollected themselves ; Brutus does more than
make an apology for the heat he had been in, by
saying, " Portia is dead." Here Cassius is all ten-
derness, and ready to dissolve, when he considers
that the mind of his friend had been employed on
the greatest affliction imaginable, when he had
been adding to it by a debate on trifles ; which
makes him, in the aijguish of his heart, cry out,
*' How scaped I killing, when I thus provoked
you ?"' This is an incident which moves the soul
in all Its sentiments ; and Cassius's heart was at
once touched with all the soft pangs of pity, re-
morse, and reconciliation. It is said, indeed, by
Horace, " If you would have me weep, you must
first weep yourself." This is not literally true ; for
it would have been as rightly said, if we observe
nature. That I shall certainly weep, if you do not:
but what is intended by that expression is, that it
u 3
225 TATLER. Jj" 68.
is not possible to give passion, except you show that
you suffer yourselt". Therefore, the true art seems
to be, that when you would have the person you
represent pitied, you must show him at once in the
highest grief} and stmggling to bear it with de-
cency and patience. In tJiis case, we sigh for him,
and give him every groan he suppresses.
I remember, when I was young enough to follow
the sports of the field, I have more than oner- rode
otl'atthc death of a deer, when I have seen the ani-
mal, in an affliction which appeared human, witli-
out the least noise, let fall tears when he was re-
duced to extrcn^ityj and T have thought of the sor-
row I saw him in, when his haunch came to the
table. But our tears are not given only to objects of
pity, but the mind has recourse to that relief in all
occasions which give us great emotion. Thus, to be
apt to shed tears is a sign of a great as well as little
spirit. I have heard say, the present pope * never
passes through the people, who always kneel in
crowds, and ask his benediction, but the tears are
seen to flow from his eyes. This must proceed
from an imagination that he is the father of all
those people : and that he is touched with so ex-
tensive a benevolence, that it breaks out into a
passion of tears. You see friends, who have been
long absent, transported in the same manner : a
thousand little images crowd upon them at thtir
meeting, as all the joys and griefs they have known
during their separation ; and in one hurry of
thought they conceive how they should have pai li-
cipated in those occasions ; and weep, because their
minds arc too full to wait the slow expression of
vorda.
* Pope CIsment XI.
N" 68. TATLER. 223
Nil lacrymii lulaM Jamui, &" miuretcimus ultra.
ViRC.^N. ii. 145.
With tears tlie wretch confirmM his tale of wne ;
And soft-ey'tl pity pleaded for the foe. R. VVrNNE.
*^* There is lately broke loose from t'ae London
pack, a very tall dangerous biter. He is now at
the Bath, and it is feared will make a damnable
havock amongst the game. His manner of biting is
new, and he is called the Top. He secures one
die betwixt his two fingers : the other is fixed, by
the help of a famous wax, invented by an apothe-
cary, since a gamester j a little of wliich he puts
upon his fore-finger, and that holds the die in the
bflx at his devotion. Great sums have been lately
won by tliesc ways ; but it is hoped, that this hint
of his manner of cheating will open the eyes of
many who arc every day imposed upon.
tif There is now in the press, and will be sud-
denly published, a book, intituled, " An Appendix
to the Contempt of the Clergy * ;" wherein will be
set forth at large, that all our dissentions are owing
to the laziness of persons in the sacred ministry, and
that none of the present schisms could have crept
into the flock, but by the negligence of the pastors.
There is a digression in this treatise, proving, that
the pretences made by the priesthood, from time to
time, that the church was in danger, is only a trick
to make the laity passionate for that of which they
themstilves have been negligent. The whole con-
cludes with an exhortation to the clergy, to the study
of eloquence, and practice of piety, as the only me-
thod to support the highest of all honours, that of a
priest who lives and acts according to his character.
* A celebrated book, written by Dr. John Eacliaid, .ind
published in 1670.
224 TATLER. N 69.
N69. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1709.
Nosfacere, i vulgo huge latc'que remoUi .'
HOR. I. Sat. vi. 17.
But how shall we, who differ far ami wide
From tlie mere vulgar, this great point decide ?
Francis.
From my own Apartment , Scptemler 16.
It is, as far as it relates to our present being, the
great end of education to raise ourselves above tlie
vulgar J but what is intended by the vulgar is not,
methinks, enough understood. In me, indeed,
that word raises a quite different idea from what it
usually does in others ; but peih.aps that proceeds
from my being old, and beginning to want tlie re-
lish of such satisfactions as are the ordinary enter-
tainment of men. However, such as my opinion
is in this case, I will speak it ; because it is possible
that turn of thought may be received by others, who
may reap as much satisfaction from it as I do
myself.
It is to me a very great meanness, and something
much below a philosopher, which is what I mean
by a gentleman, to rank a man among the vulgar
for the condition of life he is in, and not according
to his behaviour, his thoughts, and sentiments, in
that condition. For if a man be loaded with riches
and honours, and in that state of life has thoughts
and inclinations below the meanest artificer j is not
such an artificer, who wilhin his power is good to
N* 69. TATLER. 225
his friends, moderate in his demands for his labour,
and chearful in his occupation, very much superior
to him who lives for no other end but to serve him-
self, and assumes a preference in all his words and
actions to those who act their part with much more
grace than himself? Epictetus has made use of the
similitude of a stage-play to human life with much
spirit. " It is not," says he, " to be considered,
among the actors, who is prince, or who is beggar,
but who acts prince or beggar best." The circum-
stance of life should not be that which gives us
place, but our behaviour in that circumstance is what
should be our solid distinction. Thus, a wise man
should think no man above him or below him, any
further than it regards the outward order or dis-
cipline of the world: for if we conceive too great
an idea of the eminence of our superiors, or subor-
dination of our inferiors, it will have an ill effect
upon our behaviour to both. He who tliinks no
man above him but for his virtue, none below him
but for his vice, can never be obsequious or assuming
in a wrong place ; but will frequently emulate men
in rank below him, and pity those above him.
This sense of mankind is so far from a levelling
principle, that it only sets us upon a true basis of
distinction, and doubles tlie merit of such as be-
come their condition. A man in power, who can,
without the ordinary prepossessions which slop the
way to the true knowledge and service of mankind,
overlook the little distinctions of fortune, raise ob-
scure merit, and discountenance successful inde-
sert, has, in the minds of knowing men, the figure
of an angel rather than a man ; and is above the
rest of men in the highest character he can be, even
that of tlicir benefactor.
Turning my thoughts, as I was taking my pipe
this evening, after tins uiauner, it was no small dc-
226 TATLER. N= 69.
light to me to receive advice from Felicia, that Ebo-
racensis was appointed a governor of one of their
plantations. As I am a great lover of mankind, I
took part in the happiness of that people who were
to be governed by one of so great humanity, jus-
tice, and honour. Eboraccnsis has read all the
schemes which writers have formed of government
and order, and has been long conversant with men
who have the reins in their hands j so that he can
very well distinguish between chimerical and prac-
tical politics. It is a great blessing, when mea
have to deal with such different characters in the
same species as those of freemen and slaves, that
they who command have a just sense of human na-
ture itself, by which they can temper the haughti-
ness of the master, and soften the servitude of the
slave " Hoe tibi erunt artes." This is the notion
with which those of tlie plantation receive Ebora-
ccnsis : and, as I have cast his nativity, J find there
will be a record made of this person's administra-
tion } and on that part of the shore from whence he
embarks to return from his government, there will
be a monument, with these words : *' Here the
people wept, and took leave of EboraCensis, the
first governor our mother Felicia sent, who, during
his conjmand here, believed himself her subject."
IVliites Chocolate-house, Septemlcr i6.
The following letter wants such sudden dispatch,
that all things else must wail for this time :
" Sir, " Sept. 1.3, Equal day and night,
" There arc two ladies, who, having a good opi-
nion of your taste and judgment, desire you to make
use of them in the following particular, which per-
haps you may allow very extraordinary. The two
ladies before mentioned have, a considerable time
N" 60. TATLER. 227
sine:',', contracted a morr: sincere aiul constant frlend-
shii) than their adversaries, the men, will allow
consisifMit with the frailty of female nature j and,
being from a long acquaintance convinced of the
perfect agreement of their tempers, have thought
upon an expedient to prevent their separation, and
cannot think any so effectual (since it is common
for love to destroy friendship) as to give up both
their liberties to the same person in marriage. Tlie
gentleman they have pitched upon is neidier well
bred nor agreeable, his understanding moderate,
and his person never designed to charm women;
b\it iiavin*^ so much self-interest in his nature, as to
be satislicd witli making double contracts, upon
ciindition of receiving double fortunes; and most
men b^ing so far sensible of the uneasiness that one
woman occasions ; they think him, for these reasons,
tiie mist likely person of their acquaintance to re-
ceive these proposals. Upon all other accounts, lie
is the lau man cither of ihcm would chuse, yet for
this prefe;abl(i to all the rest. They desire to know
vour opi'iion the next post, resolving to defer far-
tlier proic^'ding, until they have received it.
1 am, Sir,
your unknown, until ought of,
humble servant,
BiUDGET ElTHFRSIDE."
This Is very extraordinary ; and much might be
objected by me, who am something of a civilian,
to the rase of two marrying the same man : but
tlu se ladies are, I perceive, free-thinkers ; and
therefore 1 shall speak only to tlu- prudential part of
this design, merely as a philosopher, without en-
tering into the merit of it in the ecclesiastical or civil
law. Tliesc constant friends, Piladea and Orestea,
arc at a loss to preserve llieir friendship from the
228 TATLER. N 69.
encroachments of love : for which end they have
resolved upon a fellow who cannot be the object of
affection or esteem to either, and consequently can-
not rob one of the place each has in her friend's
heart. But in all my reading (and 1 have read all
that the sages of love have writ) I have found the
greatest danger in jealousy. The ladies, indeed, to
avoid this passion, chuse a sad fellow j but if they
would be advised by me, they had better have each
her worthless man ; otherwise, he that was despi-
cable, while he was indifferent to them, will be-
come valuable when he seems to prefer one to the
other,
I remember in the history of Don Quixote of
la Manca, there is a memorable passage, which
opens to us the weakness of our nature in such par-
ticulars. The Don falls into discourse with a gen-
tleman, whom he calls " the Knight of the Green
Cassock," and is invited to his house. When he
comes there, he runs into discourse and panegyric
upon the cEConomy, the government, and order of
his family, the education of his children, and lastly
on the singular wisdom of him who disposed things
with that exactness. The gentleman makes a so-
liloquy to himself, ** O irresistible power of flat-
tery ! Though I know this is a madman, I cannot
help being taken with his applause.*' The ladies
will find this much more true in the case of their
lover; and the woman he most likes will certainly
be more pleased, she whom he slights more offended,
than she can imagine before she has tried. Now,
I humbly propose, that they both marry coxcombs
whom they are sure they cannot like, and then they
may be pretty secure against the change of aflection,
which they fear; and, by that means, preserving
the temperature under which they now write, en-
joy, during life, " Equal day and night."
Jr69. TATLER. 229
St. James's Coffee-house, Septemler i6.
There is no manner of news ; but people now
spend their time in colVee-houses in reflections
upon the particulars of the late glorious day, and
collecting the sevenU parts of the action, as they
are produced in letters from private hands, or no-
tices given to us by accounts in public papers. A
pleasant gentleman, alluding to the great fences
through which we pierced, said this evening. " the
French thought themselves on the right side of the
hedge, but it proved otherwise." Mr. Kidney, who
has long conversed with, and filled tea for, the
most consummate politicians, was pleased to give
me an account of this piece of ribaldry ; and de-
sired me on that occasion to write a whole paper on
the subject of valour, and explain how that quality,
which must be possessed by whole armies, is so
highly preferable in one man rather than another ;
and how the same actions are but mere acts of duty
in some, and instances of the most heroic virtue in
others. He advises me not to fail, in this discourse,
to mention the gallantry of the prince of Nasjau in
tills last engagement ; who, when a battalion made
a halt in the face of the enemy, snatched the co-
lours out of the hands of the ensign, and planted
them just before the line of the enemy, calling to
that battalion to take care of their colours, if they
had no regard to him. Mr. Kidney has my promise
to obey him in tliis particular, on the first occasion
that otfers.
*^t* Mr. BickerstafF is now compiling exact ac-
counts of the pay of the militia, and the com-
mission-officers under the resj>cctive lieutenancies
ot Grc;it-i5ritain ; in the first place, of those of
London and Westminster ; and in regard that there
VOL. n, X
230 TAtLER. JT 69.
are no common soldiers, but all house-keepers, or
representatives of house-keepers, in these bodies,
the sums raised by the officers shall be looked into ;
and their fellow-soldiers, or rather fellow-travellers
from one part of the town to the other, not de-
frauded of the ten pounds allowed for the sub-
sistence of the troops.
f-j-t Whereas, not very long since, at a tavern
between 1-Icel-bridge and Charing-cross, some cer-
tain polite gentlemen thought fit to perform the bac-
chanalian exercises of devotion by dancing without
clothes on, after the manner of the Pra;- Adamites :
this is to certify tliose persons, that there is no man-
ner of wit or luimour in the said practice ; and that
the beadles of the parish are to be at their next
meeting, where it is to be examined, whether they are
arrived at want of feeling, as wellas want of shame?
Jt+ Whereas a chnpel-clerk was lately taken in
a garret, on a flock-bed, with two of the fair sex,
wiio are usnally employed in sitting cinders : this is
to let him know, that if he persists in being a scan-
dal both to laity and clergy, as being as it v. ere both
and neither, the names of the nymphs who were
with him shall be printed j therefore he is desired,
as he tenders the reputation of his ladies, to repent.
Mr. Bickerstatf has received information,
that an eminent and nol:)le preacher* in the chief
congregation of Great-]5ritain, for fear of being
thought guilty of presbyterian fervency and extem-
porary prayer, lately read his, before his sermon ,
but il;e same advices acknowledging that he made the
congregation large amends by the shortness of his
discourse, it is thought fit to make no furtlier ob-
servation upon it.
* The author rccms here to allude to the cli.npel-royal at Sr.
James's, uhere Robert Booth, D. D. dean of Bristol) was at
that time itie or.ly *' honourable" chapliu.
jr 10* TATLER. 231
N70. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1709.
^icquiJ ugunt homines
noitri til farrago libel u.
JUV. Sat. I. Sj, U.
Whatever good is done, nvhatevcr ill
By humau kind, shall this collection Ail.
From my own Aparlmnit, Septemler 19.
The following letter, in prosecution of what I have
lately asserted, has urged that n:atter so much better
than I had, that I insert it as I received it. These
testimonials are customary with us learned men,
and sometimes are suspected to be written by the
author i but I fear no one will suspect me of tlis.
*' Sir, London, Scpi. i/;, 1709.
*' Having read your Lucubrations of the tenth
instant, I cannot but entirely agree with you in
your notion of the scarcity of men who can either
read or speak. For my part, I have lived these
thirty years in the world, and yet have observed but
very few who could do either in any tolerable man-
ii(T ; among which few, you must understand that
I reckon myself. Mow far eloquence, set otf with
the proper ornaments of voice and gesture, will pre-
vail over the passions, and how cold and unarteciiiig
the best oration in the world would be without
tlx'm, there are two remarkable instances, in the
case of Ligarius, and that of Milo. Caesar had
condemned Ligaric.s. He came indeed to hcarwh.it
might be said] but, thinking himself his own
J32 TATLER. JT 70.
master, resolved not to be biassed by any thing
Cicero could say in his behalf: but in this he was
XTiistaken ; for when the orator began to speak, the
hero is moved, he is vanquished, and at length the
criminal is absolved. It must be observed, that this
famous orator was less renowned for his courage
than Iiis eloquence ; for though he came, at ano-
ther time, prepared to defend Milo with one of the
best orations that antiquity has produced 3 yet being
seized with a sudden fear, by seeing some armed
men surrounding the Forum, he faltered in his
speech, and became unable to exert that irresistible
force and beauty of action which would have saved
his client, and for want of which he was condemned
to banishment. As the success the former of these
orations met with appears chiefly owing to the life
and graceful manner with which it was recited (for
some there are who tliink it may be read without
transport) so the latter seems to have failed of suc-
cess for no other reason, but because the orator was
not in a condition to set it oft with those ornaments.
It must be confessed, that artful sound will with the
crowd prevail even more than sense ; but those who
are masters of both, will ever gain the admiration
of all their hearers : and there is, I think, a very
natural account to be given of this matter : for the
sensation of the head and heart are caused in each
of these parts by the outward organs of the eye and
ear : that, therefore, which is conveyed to the un-
derstanding and passions by only ne of these or-
gans, will not affect us so much as that which is
transmitted through both. I cannot but think your
charge is just against a great part of the learned
clergy of Great-Britain, who deliver the most excel-
lent discourses with such coldness and indifference,
that it is no great wonder the unintelligent many of
tiieir congregations fall asleep. Thus it happens
K 70. TATLER. 233
that their orations meet with a quite contrary fate to
that of Demosthenes you mentioned j for as that
lost much of its beauty and force, by being repeated
to the magistrates of Rhodes without the winning
action of that great orator ; so the performances of
these gentlemen never appear with so little grace,
and to so much disadvantage, as when delivered by
themselves from the pulpit. Hippocrates, being
sent for to a patient in this city, and having felt his
pulse, inquired into the symptoms of his distemper j
and finding tliat it proceeded in great measure from
want of sleep, advises his patient, with an air of
gravity, to be carried to church to hear a sermon,
not doubting but that it would dispose him for the
rest he wanted. If some of the rules Horace gives
for the theatre were (not improperly) applied to
our pulpits, we should not hear a sermon prescribed
as a good opiate.
Si vit mefiere, AJendum est
Trimum ifu tibi
HoR. Ars. Poet. ver. loz.
If yoa would hare me weep, begin the strain.
FtANCIS.
*' A man must himself express some concern and
affection in delivering his discourse, if he expects
his auditory should interest themselves in what he
proposes. For otherwise, notwithstanding the dig-
nity and importance of the subject he treats of;
notwithstanding the weight and argument of the
discourse itself j yet too many will say.
Male ti mandata isjueiis,
jiut dormitabo, aut ridtbo
Hoi. Ars Poet. ver. ic 4,
But if, unmovM, you act not what you lay,
1 '11 sleep, or laugh ibe lifeless theme away.
^ 3
234 TATLER. K" TO.
" If there be n deficiency in the speaker, thrre
will not be a sufficient attention and regard p.'-id lo
the thing spoken : but, Mr. Bickerstaff. you know,
that as too little action is cold, so too ninch is ful-
some. Some indeed may think themselves accom-
plished speakers, for no other reason than h( < aiise
they can be loud and noisy ; for surely Sten'ormnst
have some design in his vociferations. liut. dear
Air. BickcrstatF, convince them, that as hav^'u and
irregular sound is not harmony ; so neither is hang-
ing a cushion, oratory : and, therefore, in my hum-
ble opinion, a certain divine of the first order,
whom I allou' otherwise to be a great man, would
do well to leave this off; for I think his sern'!>ns
would be more persuasive, if he giive his auditory
less disturbance. Though I cannot say that ih.is
action would be wholly improper to a prophane
oration ; yet, I think, in a religious assembly, it
gives a man too warlike, or perhaps too theatrical a
figure, to be suitable to a Christian congregation.
I am, Sir, your humble servant, Ike."
The most learned and ingenious Mr. Rosehat Is
also pleased to write to me on this subject.
" Sir,
" I read with great pleasure in the Tatler of Sa-
turday last the conversation upon eloquence : per-
mit me to hint to you one thing the great Konvm
orator observes upon this subject ; Caput enim cnai-
trabalur oratoris, (he quotes Merit,- "Vmus, ari Atijc-
iiian,) ut ipiis apud quos ageret talis (junlcm ipue
optaret viJeretur ; id fieri vitcp dignitatc. (Tull.
de Oral.) It is the fir-t rule in orato'v that a nan
must appear such as he would pcrsiuide others t > be;
and that can be accomplished only by the torce of
his life. I believe it might be of great service to
let our public orators know, tiiat an unnatural jjra-
N" 70. TATLER. 225
vity, or an Unbecoming levity in their behaviour
ut of the pulpit, will take very much from the
force of their eloquence In it. Excuse another scrap
of Latin ; it is from one of the fathers ; I think it
will appear a just observation to all, and it may
have authority with some ; Qui autem dncfut tantum,
nee J'aciunt, ipsi prceceptis suis detrahuut pondus :
/juis enim obtemperet, cum ipsi prceceptores doceant
Tfon ohtfmpcrure ? Those who teach, but do not act
agreeably to the instructions they give to others,
take away all weiglit from their doctrine : for who
will obey the precepts they inculcate, if they them-
selves teach us by their practice to disobey them ?
I am. Sir, your most humble servant,
Jonathan Kosehat."
P. S. You were com])laIning in that paper, that
the clcroy of Great-Britain had not yet learned to
speak : a very great defect indeed : and therefore I
sliall think myself a well-deserver of the church, in
recommending all the dumb clergy to the famous
speaking doctor at Kensington. This ingenious
gentleman, out of compassion to those of a bad ut-
terance, has placed his whole study in the new mo-
delling the organs of voice ; which art he has so far
advanced, as to be able even to niake a good orator
of a pair of bellows. He lately exhibited a specimen
of his skill in this way, of which I was informed by
the worthy gentlemen then present ; who were at
once delighted and amazed to hear an instrument of
so simple an organization use an exact articulation
of words, a just cadency in its sentences, and a
woiidcrful pathos in its pronunciation : not that h<i
designs to expatiate in this practice; because he
cannot, as he says, apprehend what use it may be
of If) mankind, whose benefit he aims at in a more
particular luanucr : and fur the aiue reason, he
239 TATLER. IT ^0.
will never more instruct the feathered kind, the
parrot having been his last scholar in that way. He
has a wondertul faculty in making and mending
echoes : and this he will perform at any time for
the use of the solitary in the country; being a man
born for universal good, and for that reason recom-
mended to your patronage by. Sir, yours, &c. "
Another learned gentleman gives me also tliis en
comium :
" Sir, September i6.
** You are now got into an useful and noble sub-
ject; take care to handle it with judgment and
delicacy. I wish every young divine would give
yours of Saturday last a serious perusal j and now
you are entered upon the action of an orator, if you
would proceed to favour the world with some re-
marks on the mystical enchantments of pronun-
ciation, what a secret force there is in the accents of
a tunable voice, and wherefore the works of two
very great men of the profession could never please
so well when read as heard, I shall trouble you with
no more scribble. You are now in the method of
being truly profitable and delightful. If you can
keep up to such great and sublime subjects, and
pursue them with a suitable genius, goon and pros-
per. Farewell."
White s Chocolate-house, September 19.
This was left for me here, for the use of the com-
pany of tlie house :
" To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire.
" Sir, September 15.
" The account you gave lately of a certain dog-
kennel in or near Suffolk-street was not so punctual,
as to the list of the dogs, as might have been ex-
K" 70. TATLER. 2$7
pected fr<Sra a person of Mr. BickerstafTs intelli-
gence J for, if you will dispatch Pacolet thither
some evening, it is ten to one but he finds, be-
sides those you mentioned,
" Towzer, a large French mongrel, that was not
long ago in a tattered condition, but has now got
new hair; is not fleet, but, when he grapples, bites
even to the marrow.
" Spring, a little French greyhound, that lately
made a false trip to Tunbridge.
" Sly, an old battered fox-Iiound, that began the
game in France.
" Lighttoot, a fine skinned Flanders dog, that
belo'iged to a pack at Ghent ; but, having lost flesh,
is gone to Paris for the benefit of the air.
" With several others, that in time may be worth
notice.
" Your familiar will see also, how anxious the
keepers are about the prey, and indeed not without
very good reason, for they have their share of every
thing : nay, not so much as a poor rabbit can be
run down, but these carnivorous curs swallow a
cjnarter of it. Some mechanics in the neighbour-
hood, that have entered into this civil society, and
who furnish part of the carrion and oatmeal for the
dogs, have the skin ; and the bones are picked
clean by a little French shock that belongs to the
iamily, &c. I am. Sir,
Your humble servant, &c."
*' I had almost forgot to tell you, that Ringwood
bites at Hampstead witli false teeth *.'*
* False dice.
238 TATLER, 1?" 71.
N71. TIIURSDAY,SEPTEMBER22,1709,
rtOiirl at farragi liMll,
JUV. Sat. I. 85, S6.
Whatevargood is drcne, toh/ifcixr ill
By human kind, sliall tins cdiection fill.
From my own Jparlment, Septemler at.
I HAVE lotig been, against my inclination, employed
in satire, and that in prosecution ot such persons
who are below the dignity of the true spirit of it j
such who, I fear, are not to be reclainied by making
them only ridiculous. The sharpers shall, there-
fore, have a month's time to themselves, free from
the observation of this paper j but I must not make
a truce without letting them know, that at the
same time I am preparing for a more vigorous war:
for a friend of mine has promised me, he will em-
ploy his time in compiling such a tract, before the
session of the ensuing parliament, as shall lay gaming
home to the bosoms of all who love their country or
their lamilies ; and he doubts not but it w ill create
iin act, that shall make these rogues as scandalous as
those less mischievous ones on the high road.
I have received private intimations to take care of
my v.'alks, and remember there are such things as
stabs and blows: but as there never was any tiling
in this design which ought to displease a man of ho-
nour, or which was not designed to otfend the r.is-
rals, I shall give myself very little concern for f I'd-
mg what 1 expected, that they would be higiJj
ir 71. TATLER. 239
provoked at these Lucubrations. But though 1 ut-
terly despise the pack, I must confess I am at a
stand at the receipt of the following letter, which
seems to be written by a man of sense and worth,
who has mistaken some pissage that 1 am sure was
not levelled at him. 'ihis gentleman's complaints
give me compunction, when 1 neglect the threats of
the rascals. I cannot be in jest with the rogues any
longer, since they pretend to threaten. I do not
know whether 1 shall allow them tlae favour of
transportation.
" Mr. BlCKTRSTAFF, .9/ ^/. I3.
*' Observing you are not tontcnt with lashing the
many vices of the age without illustrating each with
particular characters, it is thought nothing would
more contribute to the impression you design by
such, than always having regard to taith. In your
T.itlrr of this day, I observe you allow, that nothing
is so tender as a lady's reputation ; that a stain once
^ot in tlieir fame is hardly ever to be washed out.
I'his you grant, even when you give yourself leave
to trifle. If so, what caution is necessary in
handling the reputation of a man, wliose well-being
in this life perhaps entirely depends on preserving it
from any wi>und, which, once there received, too
often becomes fatal and incurable ? vSuppose some
villainous hand, through jHMsonal prejudice, trans-
mits materials for this purpose, which you publish
to the world, and afterwards become fully con-
vinced you were imposed on; as by this time you
may be of a character you have sent into the world;
I say, supposing this, I would be glad to know,
what reparation you think ought to be made the
person so injured, admitting you stood in his place.
It has always been held, that a generous education
is the surest mark of a generous mind. The former
S40 TATLER. K Tl.
is indeed perspicuous in all your papers ; and I am
persuaded, though you affect often to show the lat-
ter, yet you would not keep any measures, even of
Christianity, with those who should handle you in
the manner you do others. The application of all
this is from your having very lately glanced at a
man, under a character, which were he conscious
to deserve, he would be the first to rid the world of
himself; and would be more justifiable in it to all
sorts of men, tlian you in your committing such
a violence on his reputation, which perhaps you may
be convinced of in another manner than you de-
serve from him.
" A man of your capacity, Mr. Blckerstaff, should
have more noble views, and pursue the true spirit
of satire ; but I will conclude, lest I grow out of
temper, and will only beg you, for your own pre-
servation, to remember the proverb of the pitcher.
I am yours,
A. J."
The proverb of the pitcher I have no regard to ;
but it would be an insensibility not to be pardoned,
if a man could be untouched at so warm an accu-
sation, and thai laid with so much seeming temper.
All I can say to it is, that if the writer, by the same
metliod whereby he conveyed this letter, shall give
me an instance wherein I have injured any good
man, or pointed at any thing which is not the true
object of raillery, I shall acknowledge tlie offence
in as open a manner as the press can do it, and lay
down this paper for ever.
There is something very terrible in unjustly at-
tacking men in a way tliat may prejudice their ho-
nour or fortune ; but wlien men of too modest a
seniC of themselves will think they are touched, it
is impossible to prevent ill-consequences from the
N" 71. TATLER. 241
roost innocent and general discourses. This I have
known happen in circumstaiaccs the most foreign to
theirs who have taken oiFence at them. An adver-
tisement lately published, relating to Omicron,
alarmed a gentleman of good sense, integrity, ho-
nour, and industry, who is, in every particular,
dificrent from the trifling pretenders pointed at in
tiiat advertisement. When the modesty of some is
as excessive as the vanity of others, what defence is
there against misinterpretation ? However, giving
disturbance, though not intended, to men of vir-
tuous characters, has so sincerely troubled me, that
I will break from this satirical vein ; and, to shew
I very little value myself upon it, shall for this
month ensuing leave the sharper, the fop, the pe-
dant, the proud man, the insolent ; in a word, all
the train of knaves and fools, to their own devices,
and touch on nothing but panegyric. This way is
suitable to the true genius of the Staffs, who are
much more inclined to reward than punish. If,
therefore, the author of the abovementioned letter
does not command my silence wholly, as he shall if
I do not give him satisfaction, I shall for the above-
mentioned space turn my tlioughts to raising merit
from its obscurity, celebrating virtue in its distress,
and attacking vice by no other method^ but setting
innocence in a proper light.
Jftlts Coffee-house, September 20.
I find here for me the following letter :
*' Esquire BickerstafF,
" Finding your advice and censure to have a good
effect, I desire your admonition to our vicar and
schoolmaster, who, in his preaching to his auditors,
stretches his jaws so wide, that, instead of instruct-
ing youth, it ratlier frightens them : likewise in
vol.. u. Y
242 TATLER. ^"71.
rending prayerf?, he hns such a careless loll, that
people are justly ofFeiuled at his iireverent posture j
besides the extra ordinar)' charge they are put to in
sending their children to dance, to bring them off of
those ill gestures. Another evil faculty he has, in
making the bowling-green his daily residence, in-
stead of his church, where his curate reads prayers
everyday. If the weather is fair, his time is spent
in visiting ; if cold or wet, in bed, or at least at
home, though within a hundred yards of the chureh.
These, out of many such irregular practices, 1 write
for his reclamation : but, two or three things more
before I conclude j to wit, that generally when his
curate preaches in the afternoon, he sleeps sotting
in the desk on a hassock. With all this he is so
extremely proud, that he will go but once to the
sick, except they return his visit."
I w^as going on in reading my letter, when I was
uiterrupted by Mr. Grcenhat, who has been this
everung at the play of Hamlet. " Mr. Bicker-
staff," said he, " had you been to-night at the
play-house, you had seen the force of action in per-
fection : your admired Mr. Betterton behaved him-
self so well, that, though now a!i0Ut seveniy, he
acted youtli ; and by the prevalent power of proper
manner, gesture, and voice, appeared through the
whole drama a young man of great expectation, vi-
vacity, and enterprize. The soliloquy, wiiere he
began the celebrated sentence of, ' To be, or not to
be!' the expostulation, where he explains with his
mother in her closet ; the noble ardour, after seeing
his father's ghost ; and his generous distress for the
death of Ophelia, are each of them circumstances
which dwell strongly upon the minds of the audi-
ence, and would certainly affect their behaviour on
any parallel occasious in their own lives. Pray,
V" "i). TATLER. 243
Mr. Bickerstaff, let us have virtue thus represented
on the stage with its proper oriianieiUs, or let these
ornaments be added to her in places more sacred.
As tor my part," said he, " 1 carried ray cousiu
jerry, this little boy, with me ; and shall always
love the child for his partiality in all that concerned
the fortune of Hamlet. This is entering youth into
the allections and passions of manhood before-hand,
and, as it were, antedating the elfects we hope
from a long and liberal education."
I cannot, in the midst of many other things
which press, hide the comfort that this letter from
my ingenious kinsman gi\es me.
*' To my honoured kinsman, Isaac Bickerstaff,
Esquire.
" Dear Cousin, Orford, Sept. i8.
*' I am sorry, though not surprised, to tind that
you have rallied the men of dress in vain j that the
amber-headed cane still maintains its unstable posij
that pockets are bvit a few inches shortened ; and a
beau is still a beau, from the crown of his night-
cap to tiie heels of his shoes. For your comfort, I
can assure you, that your endeavours succeed better
in this famous seat of learning. By them, the
manners of our young genticnien are in a fair way
of amendment, and their very language is mightily
refined. To them it is owing, that not a servitor
will sing a catch, nor a senior fellow make a pun,
nor a determining bachelor drink a bumper ; and I
believe a gentleman-commoner would as soon ha\c
the heels of hi-, shoes red. as his stockings. AVhen
a witling stands at a coflee-house door, and sneers
at those w ho pass by, to the great iinprovement of
his ho[ietiil audience, he is no longer surnamtxl ' a
slicer,' but ' a Uian of lire' is the word. A beauty,
whose hejlth is drunk froiu Ileddington tollinkseyj
Y 2
244 TATLER. K''7I,
who has been the theme of the Muses, her cheeks
painted with roses, and her bosom planted with
orange boughs ; has no more the title of * lady,' but
reigns an undisputed ' toast.' When to the plain
garb of gown and band a spark adds an incon-
sistent long wig, we do not say now * he boshes,'
but ' there goes a smart fellow.' If a virgin
blushes, we no longer cry, ' she blues.* He that
drinks until he stares is no more ' tow-row,' but
* honest.' ' A youngster in a scrape,' is a word out
of date ; and what bright man says, * I was joabed
by the Dean ?' * Bambouzling' is exploded; ' a shut'
is ' a tatler ;' and if the muscular motion of a man's
face be violent, no mortal says, ' he raises a horse/
but ' he is a merry fellow.*
*' I congratulate you, my dear kinsman, upon
these conquests ; such as Roman emperors lamented
they could not gain ; and in which you rival your
correspondent Louis le Grand, and his dictating
academy.
" Be yours tlie glory io perform, mine to record,
as Mr. Dryden has said before me to his kinsman 5
and while you enter triumphant into the temple of
the Muses, 1, as my office requires, will, with my
staff on my shoulder, attend and conduct you.
I am, dear cousin.
Your most affectionate kinsman,
Benjamin BfiADLESXAtF."
*** Upon the humble application of certain per-
sons who have made heroic figures in Mr. Bicker-
staff's narrations, notice is hereby given, that no
such shall ever be mentioned for the future, except
those who have sent menaces, and not submitted to
admonition."
N" 72, TATLER. 241
N72. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1709.
^ie^id agunt bominet
noitri est farrago UheUh
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our motley paper seizes for its theme. P
IVhiles Chocolate-house, September 23.
I HAVE taken upon me no very easy task in turning
all my thoughts on panegyric, when most of the
advices I receive tend to the quite contrary purpose j
and I have tew notices but such as regard follies
and vices. But the properest way for me to treat is,
to keep in general upon the passions and affections
of men, with as little regard to particulars as the
nature of the thing will admit However, 1 think
there is something so passionate in the circumstance*
of the lovers mentioned in the following letter, that
I am willing to go out of my way to obey what is
commanded in it :
" Sir, London, Sept. 17.
" Your design of entertaining the town with the
characters of the antient heroes, as persons shall
send an account to Mr. Morphew's, encourages me
and others to beg of you, that, in the mean time, if
it is not contrary to the method you have proposed,
you would give us <ine paix*r upon the subject of
the death of Partus and his wife, wiu n Nero sent
liim an order to kill liimself : hh wife, setting him
the example, died with these woxds ; ' Paitus, it is
Y 3
245 TATLER. K' 12.
not painful.' You must know the ctory, and your
bservations upon it will oblige, Sir,
Your niost humble servant."
When the worst of men that ever lived in the
world had the highest station in it, human life was
the object of his diversion; and be sent orders fre-
quently out of mere wantonness, to take off such
and such, without so much as being angry with
them. Nay, frequently, his tyranny was so hu-
mourous, that he put men to death because he could
not but approve of them. It came one day to his
ear, tl)at a certain married couple, Paclus and Arria,
lived ui a more happy tranquillity and mutual love
than any other persons who were then in being. He
listened with great attention to the account of their
manner of spending their tiine together, of the con-
stant pleasure they were to each other in all their
words and actions ; and found by exact information,
that they were so treasonable as to be much more
happy tlian his imperial majesty himself. Upon
which he writ Paetus the following billet :
*' Paetus, you are hereby desired to dispatch your-
self I have heard a very good character of you ;
and therefore leave it to yourself, whether you ^^ ill
die by dagger, sword, or poison. If you outlive
this order above an hour, I have given directions to
put you to death by torture. Nkro."
This fimiliar epistle was delivered to his wife
Arria, who cpened it.
One must have a soul very well turned for love,
pity, and indignation, lo comprehend the tumult
this unhappy lady was thrown into upon this oc-
casion. The passion of love is no more to be under-
stood by some tempers, than a problem in a science
by an ignorant man : but he that knows what af-
fection is, will have, upon considering the con-
>r 72. TATLER. 247
dition of Arrla, ten thousand thoughts flowing
upon him, which the tongue was noi formed to
express ; but the charming statue is now before my
eyea, and Arria, in her unutterable sorrow, lias
more beauty than ever appeared in youth, in mirtli,
or in triumph. These are the great and noble in-
cidents which speak the dignity of our nature, in
our sufferings and distres'ses. Behold, her tender
affection for her husband sinks her features into a
countenance which appears more helpless than that
of an infant: but again, her indignation shows in
her visage and her bosom a resentment as strong as
that of the bravest man. Long she stood in this
agony of alternate rage and lovej but at last com-
posed herself for her dissolution, rather than survive
her beloved P.etus. AVhen he came into her pre-
sence, he found her with the tyrant's letter in one
hand, and a dagger in the other. Upon his approach
to her, she gave him the order : and at tlie same
time slabbing herself. " Pietus," says she, " it is
not painful ;" and e.x.pired, Psetus immediately
followed her example. The passion of these me-
morable lovers was such, that it illuded the rigour
of their fortune, and baffled the force of a blow,
which neither felt, bfcause each received it for the
sake of the other. The woman's part in this story
is by much the more heroic, and has occasioned one
of tlie best epigrams transmitted to us from antiquity*.
* Cmta %uo ffaJium cum tradtret A R I A PjE TOj
f^em lit vixenhui imxerat ipm luii ;
Si fUi: fiilti, vuliim (jii'j^i fret, ni^n d.ltt, inquitf
Sed quoil tuji,ei hue mil^t, Vje.it, dilet.
Martial. Epi^. I. i^.
U'lienthe ctiaste Abria readied tlic recking sword,
Diawn from licr bowels, to !>er lioiioiii'd lunt,
Trust nic, sliesaii', for tbii 1 do not grieve,
I die by that which P.tT us must receive.
24S TATLER. N" 72.
From my own apartment, Septemler 23.
The boy saySj one in a black hat left the following
letter :
" Friend, 19/A of the seventh month.
" Being of that part of Christians -whom men call
Quakers, and being a seeker of the right way, 1
was persuaded yesterday to hear one of your most
noted teachers j the matter he treated was the ne-
cessity of well living grounded upon a future state.
I was attentive J but the man did not appear in
earnest. He read his discourse, notwithstanding
thy rebukes, so heavily, and with so little air of
being convinced himself, that I .thought he would
have slept, as I observed many of his hearers did. I
came home unedified, and troubled in mind. I dipt
into the Lamentations, and from thence turning to
the 34th chapter of Ezekiel, I found these w^ords :
* Woe be to the shepherds of Israel, that do feed
themselves ! should not the shepherds feed the
flock ? Ye eat the ftit, and ye clothe you with the
wool : ye kill them that are fed ; but ye feed not the
flock. The diseased have ye not strengthened 5 nei->
ther have ye healed that which was sick ; neither
have ye bound up that which was broken ; neither
have ye brought again that which was driven
away ; neither have ye sought that which was lost;
but with force and with cruelty have ye ruled them,*
^c. Now, I pray thee, friend, as thou art a man
skilled in many things, tell me who is meant by the
diseased, the sick, the broken, the driven away,
and the lost ? and whether the prophecy in this
chapter be accomplished, or yet to come to pass ?
and thou wilt oblige thy friend, though unknown."
This matter is too sacred for this paper j but I
cannot see what injury it would do to any clergy-
N^ 72. TATLER. 249
man to have it in his eye, and believe all that are
taken from him by his want of industry are to be
dcmandetl of him. , I dare say, Favonius* has very
few of these losses. Favonius, in the midst of a
thousand impertinent assailants of the divine truths,
is an undisturbed defender of them. He protects all
under his care, by the clearness of his understand-
ing, and the example of his life : he visits dying
men with the air of a man who hopes for his own
dissolution, and enforces in others a contempt of
this life, by his own expectation of the next. His
voice and behaviour are the live)y images of a com-
posed and well-governed zeal. None can leave him
for the frivolous jargon uttered by the ordinary
teachers among dissenters, but such who cannot
distinguish vociferation from eloquence, and argu-
ment from railing. He is so great a judge of man-
kind, and touches our passions with so superior a
command, that he who deserts his congregation
must be a stranger to the dictates of nature as well
as to those of grace.
But I must proceed to other matters, and resolve
the questions of other inquirers j as in the fol-
lowing :
" Sir, " Heddington, Sept. ig,
" Upon reading tliat part of the Tatler, N" 6g,
vhere mention is made of a certain chapel-clerk,
there arose a dispute, and that produced a wager,
whether by the words chapel-clerk was meant a
clergyman or layman ? by a clergyman 1 mean one
in holy orders. It was not that any body in the
company pretended to guess who the person was ;
but some asserted, that by Mr. Bickerstatts words
must be meant a clergyman only : others said,
* Dr. Smalridge.
250 TATLER. N" 72.
that those words might have been said of any
clerk of a parish j and some of them more properly
of a layman. The vager is half a dozen bottles
of wine: in whieh, if you please to determiiie it,
your health, and all the family of the Stalls, shall
certainly be drunk j and you will singularly oblige
another very considerable family ; I mean that of
your humble ser\'ants^
The Trencher Caps,"
It is very customary with us learned men, to find
perplexities where no one else can see any. The
honest gentlenien, who wrote this, are much at a
loss to understand what I thought very plain ; and,
in return, their epistle is so plain, that I cannot
imderstand it. This, perhaps, is at first a little
like nonsense ; but I desire all persons to examine
these writings with an eye to my being far gone in
the occ'dt sciences J and remember, that it is the
privilege of the learned and the great to be under-
stood when thev please: for as a man ot much business
may be allowed to leave company when he pleases j
so ( "e of high learning may be above your capacity
when he thinks fit. But, without further speeches
or fooling, I must inform my friends, the Trencher
Caps, in plain words, that I meant, in the place
they speak of, a drunken clerk of a church j and I
will return their civility among my rclatiouSj and
drink their healths as they do ours.
N" 73. XATLER. i25l
N^'IS. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1709.
S^uiequid agunt bom/ 'its
nostri est farrago libelU.
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
VVh.ite'er men Jo, nr fay, or think, or dream,
Our motley paper leizes for its theme. P.
Uliitcs Chocolate-h >use, Septemler 29.
I CANNOT express the confusion the following letter
gave me, which I received by Sir Thomas tliis
mornini;. There cannot be a greater surprize than
to meet with sudden enmity in the midst ot a fami-
liar aud friendly correspondence; which is my case
in relation to this episile : and I have no way to
purge myself to the world, but by publishing botli
it and my answer :
" Mr. RickcrstafF,
" You are a very impudent fellow to put me into
the Tatler. Rot yon, Sir, I have more wit than
you; and, rot me, I have more money than most
fools I have bubbled. Ail persons of quality dmire
me; though, rot me if I value a bisic garter any
more than 1 do a blue apron. Every b( tly knows I
am brave ; therefore have a care hov ymi i)rovok(;
MoNOCULUS."
The Answftr.
" Sir,
"Did I not very well know your hand, as well
by the spelling as tiu; character, I should no. liavc
believed yours of to-day had conic from ,vou. But
252 TATLER. lf= 73
when all men are acquainted that I have had all my
* intelligence from you, relating to your fraternity,
let them pronounce who is the more impudent. I
confess, I have had a peculiar tenderness for you,
by reason of that luxuriant eloquence of which you
are master, and have treated you accordingly; for
which you have turned your florid violence against
your antient friend and school-fellow . You know
in your own conscience you gave me leave to toiuh
upon your vein of speaking, provided I hid your
other talents; in which I believed you siucer;% be-
cause, like the antient Sinon, you have before nj\v
sutl^ered yourself to be defaced to cany on a plot.
Besides, Sir, rot me, language for a person of your
present station ! Fy, iy, I am really ashamed for
you, and shall no more depend upon your intelli-
gence. Keep your temper^ wash your face, and go
to bed.
Isaac Bickerstaff.'*
For aught I know, this fellow may have con-
fused the description of the pack, on purpose to en-
snare the game, while I have all along believed he
was destroying them as well as myself 3 but because
they pretend to bark more than ordinary, I shall let
them see that I will not throw away the whip, until
they know better how to behave themselves. But I
must not, at the same time, omit the praises of
their ceconomy, expressed in the following advice:
" Mr. Bickerstaff, Sept. 1 7.
*' Though your thoughts arc at present employed
upon the tables of fame, and marshalling your il-
lustrious dead, it is hoped the living may not be
neglected, nor defrauded of their just honours ; and
since you have begun to publish to tlie world the
great sagacity and vigUance of the Knights of the
N 73. TATLER. 25S
Industry, it will be expected you shall proceed to
do justice to all the societies of them you can be in-
formed of; especially since their own great industry
covers their actions as much as possible from that
public notice which is their due.
" Purifitm sfpultjt (iistnt inertia
< Celutu virtus. HOR. IV. Od. ix. 29.
" Hidden vice and concealed virtue are much alike.
" Be pleased, therefore, lo let the following nle-
moirs have a place in their history :
'' In a certain part of tJie town, famous for the
freshest oysters, and the plainest English, there is a
house, or rather a college, sacred to hospitality and
the industrious arts. At the entrance is hierogly-
phically drawn a cavalier contending with a monster,
with jaws expanded, just ready to devour him.
" Hither the brethren of the Industry resort;
but, to avoid ostentation, they wear no habits of
distinction, and perform their exercises with as little
noise and shew as possible. Here are no under-
graduates, but each is a master of his art. Tlicy
are distributed according to their various talents,
and detached abroad in parties, to divide the labours
of the day. They have dogs as well -nosed and as
licet as any, and no sportsmen sliow greater acti-
vity. Some beat fjr the game, some hunt it, others
come in at the death; and my honest landlord makes
very gcjod venison sauce, and cats his share of the
dinner.
" I would fain pursue my metaphors ; but a ve-
nerable person who stands by me, and waits to
bring you this letter, and whom, by a certain bene-
volence in his look, I suspect to be I'acolet, reproves
nie, and ol)liges me to write in plainer terms, that
the society had fixed their eyes on a gay young gcn-
voL. 11. z
254 TATLER. K^ 73.
tleman, wlio has lately succeerled to a title and an
estate ; the latter of which they judged would be
very convenient for them. Tiiercrure, aftt r several
attempts to get into his acquaintance, my landlord
finds an opportunity to make his court to a friend of
the young spark, in the following manner :
" Sir, as I take you to be a lover of ingenuity
and plain dealing, I shall speak very fnely to you.
In few words, then, you are acquainted w itii Sir
Liberal Brisk. Providence has, for our emolument,
sent him a fair estate ; for men are not born for
themselves. Therefore, if you will bring him to
my house, we will take care of him, and you shall
have half the profits. There is Ace and Cutter v. ill do
his business to a hair. You will tell me, perhaps,
he is yourfri nd : I grant it, and it is for that I pro-
pose it, to prevent his lalling into ill hands.
" We'll carve him lik-' .n .'i^h fit for t! e rcods,
* Not he IV hiin like a ci.cjsc fit I >r houiiJs.
" In short, there are, to my certain kiiov. ledge, a
hundred niouths cpen for him. Now if we can se-
cure him to ourselves, we shall disappoint all those,
rascals that do not deserve him. Nay, you need
not start at it. Sir, it is for your own advantage.
Besides, Partridge has cast me his nativity, and I
find by certain dt itin)', his oaks must IcftUfiL
" The genllc^man, to whom this honest proposal
vas made, made little answer; but said he would
Ciinsidtr of it, and immediately took coach to find
out the young baronet, and told him all that had
passed, t.'getl'.er v\iih the new salvo to satisfy a
man's conscience in sacrificing his friend. Sir Brisk
was fired, swore a dozen oaths, drew his sword,
put it up again, called for his man, beat him, and
bid him letch a roach. His friend asked him. what
he designed, and whilhcr he was g(;ing ? He an-
N 13* TATLER. 255
swcrcd, to find oat the villains, and fight tliem.
To which his friend agreed, and promised to be his
second, on condition he would first divide his estate
to them, and reserve only a proportion to himself,
that so he might have the justice of fighting his
equals. His next resolution was to play with them,
rnd let them see he was not the bubble they took
him for. But he soon quitted that, and resolved at
last to tell Bickerstafl" of them, and get them en-
rolled in the order of the Industry; with this cau-
tion to all young landed knights and esquires, that
whenever they are drawn to play, they would con-
sider it as calling them down to a sentence already
pronounced upon them, and think of the sound of
these words : His oaks must Ic felled. I am, Sir,
your faithful humble servant.
Will. '1 rusty."
From mi/ own Jpartweuty Septemler 26.
It is wonderful to consider what a pitch of confi-
dence this world is arrived at. Do people believe I
am made up of patience ? I liave long told them,
that I will sufl'er no enormity to pass, without I
liave an understanding with the otfenders by way of
hush money ; and yet the candidates at Queen-
liitlie send coals to all the town but me. All llie
public papers liave had this advertisement :
" London, September 22, 1709.
" To the electors of an alderman for the ward of
Qucen-Hithe.
" Whereas an evil and pernicious custom has of
late very much prevailtd at the election of aldermen
tor this city, by treating at taverns and aklKAises,
therel)y engaging many unwarily to give their votes:
wliii li piaeliee appearing to Sir Arthur de Bradly to
be of d.uigerous consctjuence to the freedom of
I 2
256 TATLF.R. N" 73.
elections, lie hath avoided the excess thereof. Ne-
vertheless, to make ail acknowledgment to this
ward for their intended favour, lie hath deposited
in the hands of Mr. , one of the present com-
mon-council, four hundred and fifty pounds, to be
disposed of as follows, provided the said Sir Arthur
de Bradly be the alderman, viz.
" All such that shall poll for Sir Arthur de
Bradly shall have one chaldron of good coals gratis.
" And half a chaldron to every one that shall not
poll against him.
" And the remainder to be laid out in a clock,
dial, or otherwise, as the comniou-council-men of
the said ward shall think fit,
" And if any person shall refuse to take the said
coals to himself", he may assign the same to any
poor electors in the ward.
" I do acknowledge to have received the said
four hundred and fifty {wuiids, for the pur-
poses above-mentioned, for which I have
given a receipt.
" Witness, J s H t, J n M v.
J Y (t II,
E D D s. *
" N. B. Whereas several jicrsons have already
engaged to poll for Sir Humphry Greenhat, it isi
hereby further declared, that every such person as
doth poll for Sir Humphry Greenhat, and dolh also
poll for Sir Arthur de Bnidly, shall each of them re-
ceive a chaldron of coals gratis, on the proviso
above-mentioned."
* Crowlcv's ngent and the nnmcs of the witnesses, John
Medgley, James Wallet, J;iemy Gough, ami Eilwarti D:)vi.
The CandiJates were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Sir Benjamin
Green.
N- 73. TATLER. 257
ThU is certainly the most plain dealing that ever
was used, except that the just quantity which an
elector may drink without excess, and the dif-
ference between an acknowledgment and a bribe,
wants explanation. Another ditiiculty witli me is,
how a man who is bargained with for a chaldron of
coals for his vote shall be said to have that chaldron
gratis ? If my kinsman Greenhat had given me the
least intimation of his design, I should have pre-
vented his publishing non.ense; nor should any
knight in England have put my relation at the bot-
tom of the leaf as a postscript, when after all it
appears Greenhat has been the more popular man.
Tiiere is here such open contradiction, and clumsy
art to paiiialc the matter, and prove to the people,
tliat the freedom of election is safer when laid out
in coals than strong drink, that 1 can turn this only
to a religious use, and admire the dispensation of
things ; for if these fellows were as wise as they are
rich, where would be our liberty ? This reminds me
of a memorable speech made to a city almost in the
same hitilude with Weftminster : "When I think
of your wisdom, I admire your wealth; when I
lliink of your wealth, 1 admire your wisdom."
3
258 TATLER. N- 74.
N'74. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1709.
S^uiccpticl agUHt bom/net
fiOitii (St farrago liheh'L
JUV. S.it. I. S5, S6.
Whate'er men do, or fny, or think, or dream.
Our motley paper ftizts for its theme. P.
IFIiiles Chocolalc-house, Scptemler 28.
The writer of the following letter has made an iise
of me, whicli I did not foresee I should fall into.
But the gentleman having assured me that he has a
most tender passion for the fair one, and speaking
his intention with so much sincerity, I am willing to
let them contrive an interview bj my means.
" Sir,
" I earnestly entreat yon to publish the inclosed ;
for I have no other way to come at her, or return to
myself. A. L.
" P. S. Mr. Bickerstaff,
" You cannot imagine how handsome she is : the
superscription of my letter will make her recollect
the man that gazed at her. Pray put it in."
1 can assure the young lady, the gentleman js in
the trammels of lov e : how else would he make
his superscription so much longer than his billet .'
He superscribes ;
" To the younger of the two ladies in mourning
(who sat in the hiudniost seat of the middle box at
N 74. TATLER. 259
Mr. Winstanley's water-works * on Tuesday was
fortnight, and had with them a brother, or some
acquaintance that was as careless of that pretty crea-
ture as a brother} which seeming brotlier ushered
them to tlieir coach) witli great respect. Present."
" Madam,
" I have a very good estate, and v ish myself
your husband : let me know by this way where you
live J for I shall be miserable until we live together.
Alexander Landlord."
Tills is the modern way of bargain and sale; a
certain short hand writing, in which laconic elder
brothers are very successful. All mv fear is, that
the nymphs elder sister is unmarried ; if she is we
arc undone : but perliaps the careless fellow was her
husband, and then she will let us go on.
From viy oivii A[)artment, September 28.
The following letter has given me a new sense of
the nature of my writings. I have the deepest re-
ginl to conviction, and shall never act against it.
lloucvcr, I do not yet understand what good man
he thinks I have injured : but his epistle has such
weight in it, that 1 shall always havt, respect for his
admonition, and desire the coiitinuanep of it. I am
not conscious that I have spoke any faults a man
may not mend if he pleases.
* Wiiistaiilev's mntl'cma'ical wttcr tliMtre stood .nt the
lower eiiJ of Piccadilly, ilistin-ui'iiable fiy a winilm II .t t'ip.
The exliib^ii^ns here, bctwetii fi.c and S'X in t'le evening,
weie clivemfit-d to sii t the seiisois, and the hunnonr': of the
ciittipaiiv ; nnd the prce-, exc.pi that of the six-pcnnv 5a If^rv,
varied iccoidiiigly. B xes fiom four shillings to h:ilf a crown,
pit from tlir-jc to two sh lling?, and a sent I'l the shilling i;.-illfry
somei lines cost eigh'.ecii ptiice. The (]n.Tntity of water use J
on extiaoi Jinary oacasions w.os from 300 to 800 tuns.
260 TATLER. N" 74.
" Mr. BiCKERSTAFF, Sept. 2^.
" When I read your paper of Thursday, I was
surprized to find mine of the thirteenth inserted at
large; I never intended myself or yon a second
trouble of tliis kind, believing I had sutiiciently
pointed out the man you had injured, and that by
this time you were convinced Uiat silence would be
the best answer : but finding your rellections are
such as naturally call for a reply, I take this way of
doing it; and, in the first place, return you thanks
for the compliment made me of my seeming sense
and worth. I do assure you, I shall always endea-
vour to convince mankind of the latter, though I
have no pretence to the former. But to conjc a
little nearer, 1 observe you put yourself under a very
severe restriction, even the laying down the Tatler
for ever, if 1 can give you an instance, wherein you
have injured any good man, or pointed out any
thing which is not the true object of raillery.
" I must confess, Mr. l^ickerstalT, if the making
a man guilty of vices that would shame thegallov.s,
be the best method to point at the true object of
raillery, I have until this time been very ignorant ;
but if it be so, ] will venture to assert one thing,
and lay it down as a maxim, even to tlie Statiiau
race, viz. That thnt method of pointing ought no
more to be pursued, than those people ought to eat
your throat who sutler by it ; because 1 take both to
be murder, and the law is not in every private man's
hands to execute : but indeed, Sir, were you the
only persf n would sutler by the Tatler's discontinu-
ance, I have malice enough to punish you in tjic
manner you prescribe ; but I am not so great an ene-
my to the town or my own pleasures as to wish it ;
nor that you would lay aside lashing the reigning
vices, so long as you keep to the true spirit of satire.
N" 74. TATLER. 261
without descending to rake into characters below its
dignity ; for, as you well observe, there is some-
thing very terrible in unjustly attacking men in a
way that may prejudice their honour or fortune;
and indeed where crimes are enormous, the delin-
quent deserves little pity, yet the reporter may de-
serve less : and here I am naturally led to that ce-
lebrated author of * Th.e whole Duty of Man,' who
hath set this matter in a tme light in his treatise
* Of the Government of the Tongue}* where,
speaking of uncharitable trutlis, he says, ' a disco-
very of this kind serves not to reclaim, but enrage
the offender, and precipitate him into further de-
grees of ill. Modesty and fear of shame is one of
those natural restraints which the wisdom of Hcavcu
has put upon mankind ; and he that once stumbles,
may yet by a check of that bridle recover again :
but \\ hen by a public detection he is fallen under
that infamy he feared, he will then be apt lo discard
all caution, and to think he owes himself the ut-
most pleasures of vice, as the price of his reputation.
Nay, perhaps he advances farther, and sets up for
a reversed sort of fame, by being eminently wicked,
and he who before was but a clandestine disciple
becomes a doctor of impiety, &c.' This sort of
reasoning. Sir, most certainly induced our wise le-
gislators very lately to repeal that law which put
the stamp of infamy in the face of felons : there-
fore, you had better give an act of olilivion to your
delinquents, at least for transportation, tlian to con-
tinue to mark them in so notorious a manner. I
cannot but applaud your designed attempt of
' raising merit from obscurity, celebrating virtue in
distress, and attacking vice in another niethod, by
setting innocence in a proper light.' Your pursu-
ing these noble themes will make a greater advance
to the reformation you seem to aim at, than the
262 TATLER. N* 74.
method you have liitherto taken, by putting man-
kind beyond the power of retrieving themselves, or
indeed to think it possible. But iJ", after all your
endeavours in this new way, there should tlien re-
main any hardened impenitents, you must even give
them up to the rigour of the law, as delinquents not
\viihin the benefit of their elergy. Pardon me,
good Mr. Bickerstafl', for the tedionsness of this
epistle, and believe it is not from any self-con victiou
I have taken up so much of your time, or my own ;
but supposing you mean all your Lucubnitions
should tend to the good of mankind, I may the ea-
sier hope your pardon, being. Sir, yours, bee."
Grecian Coffee-house, Scptemler 29.
This evening I thought fit to notify to the literati
of this house, and by that means to all the world,
that on Saturday the fifteenth of October next en-
suing, I design to fix my first table of fame ; and
desire that such as are acquainted with the cha-
racters of the twelve most famous men that have
ever appeared in the world would send in their lists,
or name any one man for that table, assigning also
his place at it before that time, upon pain of having
such his man of fame postponed^ or placed too high
for ever. I shall not, upon any "application what-
ever, alter the place which upon that day I shall
give to any of these worthies. But whereas there
are many who take upon them to admire this hero,
or that autlior, upon second hand, J expect each
subscriber should underwrite his reason for the place
he allots his candidate.
The thing is of the last consequence ; f^r we are
al/out settling the greatest point that ever has been
debated in any age; and 1 shall take precautions
accordingly. Let every man who votes, consider,
that he is now going to give away that, for which
N" 74. TATLER. 265
the soldier gave up his rest, his pleasure, and liis
life J the scholar resignt-d his whole series of
thfHight, his midn'ight repose, and his morning
slumbers. In a word, he is, as I may say, to be
judge of that after-life, which noble spirits prefer to
their very real beings. I hope I shall be forgiven,
therefore, if I make some objections against their
j'.uy, as they shall ocenr tome. The whole of the
number by whom they arc to be tried, are to be
scholars. I am persuaded aKo, that Aristotle will
be put up by all of that class of men. However, in
behall of others, such as we.ir the livery of Aris-
totle, the tHo famous universities are called upon,
on this occasion ; bat I except the men of Queen's,
Kxeter, and Jtisus colleges, in O.xford, who are not
to be electors, because he shall not be crowned
from an implicit faith in his writings, but receive
his honour from such judges as shall allow him to
be censured. Upon this election, as I was just
DOW going to say, I banish all who think and speak
after others to concern tJiemselves in it. For w hich
reason all illiterate distant admirers are forbidden to
corrupt the voices, by sending, according to the
new mode, any poor students coals and candles for
their votes in behalf of such worthies as they pre-
tend to esteem. All news- . ritcrs are aiso ex-
cluded, Incause thc:y consider fame as it is a report
which gives foundation to the lillmg up their rhap-
fcodies, and not as it is the emanation or conse-
(in("iiee of good ami evil actions. 'I'hcse are cx-
<:e;)tc I against as justly as butchers iu case of
life and ileath : their tamiliarity with the greatest
names takes olf tin- delicacy of their regard, as
dealing in bluud makes Uic Lauii les^ tender of
spilling it.
264- TATLER. N 75.
Si. James's Coffee-house, Scjifcmler 28.
Letters from Lisbon, of the twenty-fifth instant,
N. S. speak of a battle which has been fought near
the river Cinca, in vhich general Stareniberg had
overthrown the army of the duke of Anjou. The
persons who send this, excuse their not gi^ ing par-
ticulars, because they believed an account must
have arrived here before we could hear frou) thcni.
They had advices from ditlerent parts, which con-
curred in the circumstances of the action ; after
which the army of his catholic majesty advanced
as far as Fraga, and the enemy retired to Saragossa.
There are reports, that the duke of Anjou was in
the engagement; but letters of good authority
say, that prince was on the road towards the camp
when he received the news of the defeat of his
troops. We promise ourselves great consequences
from such an advantage obtained by so accomplished
a general as Stareniberg; who, among the men of
this present age, is esteemed the third in military
fame and reputation.
K75. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1709.
Sjii'cquitl agunt bominer
noitri at farrago lihelli.
JUV. Sat. I, 85, S6.
Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our motley paper seizes for its theme. P.
From my oun j4parlment, Scpicmlcr 30.
I AM called off from public dissertations by a do-
mestic alTair of great imporlanccj which is no less
N 75. TATLER. 2G5
tlian the disposal of my sister Jenny for life. The
girl is a girl of great merit, and pleasing conversa-
tion ; but I being born of my father's tirst wife,
and she of his third, she converses with mc rather
hke a daughter than a sister. I have indeed told
her, that if she kept her honour, and behaved lier-
aelf in such a manner as became the Bickerslafl's, I
would get her an agreeable man for her husband ;
which was a promise I made her after reading a
passage in Pliny's " Epistles." That polite author
had been employed to find out a consort for his
friend's daughter, and gives the following character
of the man he had pitched upon. Aciliano p/uri-
muni I'igoris isf induslricc (juan(/iiam in maxima ve-
recnndia : est i/lij'acics lilera/is, mnlto sanguiur,
mi/lto rubnre, siijfusa: est ingenua totius corporis
pulchritiido, isf (^uidam scnatorius decor, cjucc ego
tiequaquam arlitror negligenda : debet cnim hoc
castitati puellarum quasi prceniiuin dari. *' Acih-
anus (for that was the gentleman's name) is a man
of extraordinary vigour and industry, accompanied
with the greatest modesty : he has very much of the
gentleman, widi a lively colour, and flush of health
in his aspect. His whole person is finely turned,
and speaks him a man of quality : which are quali-
fications that, I think, ought by no means to be
overlooked ; and should be bestowed on a daughter
as the reward of her chastity."
A woman that will give herself liberties, need not
put her parents to so much trouble ; for if she docs
not possess these ornaments in a husband, she can
supply herself elsewhere. But this is not the case
of my sister Jenny, who, I may say without vanity,
is as unspotted a spinster as any in Great Britain. I
shall take this occasion to recommend the conduct
of our own family in this particular.
We have iu the genealogy of our house, the dc-
VUL. u. A A
266 TATLER. N 75.
scriptions and pictures of our ancestors from the
time of king Arthur ; in whose days there was one
of my own name, a knight of his round table, and
known by the name of Sir Isaac Bickerstaff. He
was low of stature, and of a very swarthy com-
plexion, not unlike a Portuguc/e Jew. But he was
nioie prudent than men ot that height usually are,
and would often conmiunicate to his friends his de-
sign of lengthining and whitening his posterity.
His eldest son Ralph, for that was his name, was
for th.is reason marritd to a lady who had little else
to recommend her, but that she was verj' tall and
very fair. 'I'he issue of this niatch, with the help
of high shoes, made a tolerable figure in the next
iigc ; though the ccmiplexion of the family was ob-
scure until the fourth generation from that marriage.
From wiii<:h time, until the reign of William the
Coiiqneror, the females of our house were famous
for their needlework and line skins. In the male
line, thi-re happened an unlucky accident in the
reign of Rich;ird III. the eldest son of Philip, then
chief of the lamily, being born with an hump-back
r.rid very high nose. This was the more astonishing,
because none of his forefathers ever had such a
blemi?h ; n^r indeed was there any in the neigh-
bourhood of that make, except the butler, who w as
noted for round shoulders, and a Roman nose :
what \v.:\'.'.c tlic n>;.=e the less excusable, was the re-
markable sm;iih:ess of his eyes.
Tiiese scv ;Tal diltcts were mended by succeed-
ing matches ; the eyes were open in the nextgcne-
rat:o:i, ai:J the hump fell in a century and an half* :
* Peiiiaiis it is sc.ircely u ortli wliile to mention, that tliis
ccnlury and at half of time is a.l a fictii;n, and tliat the wit of
X\\t p:>!" r, ami thj truth of the history, are here at variance, as
Henry VII. Jcfcated Ricliard III. in Bosworth FielJ, was his
imn.ei'iaic successor ill 14S5, and died ui 15C9.
V 75. TATLER, 26t
but the greatest difSculty was how* to reduce the
nose : which I do not find was accomplished until
about the middle of the reign of Henry VII. or ra-
ther the beginning of that of Henry VIII.
But while our ancestors were thus taken up in
cultivating the eyes and nose, the face of the Bick-
erstafFs fell down insensibly into a chiii ; which was
not taken notice of, their thoughts being so much
employed upon the more noble features, until it be-
came almost too long to be remedied.
But length of time, and successive cnre in our
alliances, have cured this also, and reduced our
faces into that tolerable oval, which we enjoy at
present. I would not be tedious in this discourse,
but cannot but observe, that our race suffered very
much about three hundred years ago, by the mar-
riage of one of our heiresses wiih an eminent
courtier, who gave us spindleshanks, and cramps in
our bones ; insomuch that we did not recover our
health and legs until Sir Walter BickcrstafT m.irried
Maud the milk-maid, of whom the then Garter
King at Arms, a facetious person, said pleasuUly
enough, " that she had spoiled our blood, but
mended our constitution.s."
After this account of the effect our prudent
choice of matches has liad upon our persons and
features, I cannot but observe, that there are daily
inst;mccs of as great changes made by marriage upon
men's minds and humours. One might wear any
passion out of a family by cullurc, as skillul gar-
deners blot a colour out of a tuliji that hurts its
beauty. One might produce an atlahle temper out
of a shrew, by grafting the mild upon tlie choleric;
or raise a jack-pudding from a prude, by inoculating
mirth and melancholy. It is for want of care in tlie
tlispa-ing of our chiMrrn, with regard to our hodie*
and minds, that we go into an house and sec sucU
A A i
26S TATLER. N" 75.
different complexions and humours In the same race
and family. But to me it is as plain as a pike-stalf,
from what mixture it is, that tliis daughter silently
lours, the other steals a kind look at you, s third is
exactly well behaved, a fourth a splenetic, and a
fifth a coquette.
In this disposal of my sister, I have chosen with
an eye to Iier being a wit, and provided that the
bridegroom be a man of a sound and excellent
judgment, who will seldom mind what she says
when she begins to harangue : for Jenny's only im-
perfection is an admiration of her parts, which in-
clines her to be a little, but a very little, sluttish;
and you are ever to remark, that we are apt to cul-
tivate most, and bring into observation, what we
think most excellent in ourselves, or most capable
of improvement. Thus, my sister, instead of con-
sulting her glass and her toilet for an hour and a
lialf after her private devotions, sits with her nose
full of snuff, and a man's night-cap on her head,
rending plays and romances. Her wit she thinks
her distinction : therefore knows nothing of the
skill of dress, or making her person agreeable. It
would make you laugh to see me often, with my
spectacles on, lacing her stays ; for she is so very a
wit, that she understands no ordinary thing in the
world.
For this reason, I have disposed of her to a man
of business, who will soon let her see, that to be
well dressed, in good humour, and chearful in the
command of her family, are the arts and sciences of
female life. I could have bestowed her upon a fine
gentleman, who extremely admired her wit, and
would have given her a coach and six : but I found
it absolutely necessary to cross the strain ; for had
they met, tliey luid entirely been rivals in discourse,
3nd in continual contention for the superiority of
ir 75. TATLER. 269
understanding, and brouglit forth crlllcs, pedants,
or pretty good poets. As it is, 1 expect an offspring
fit for the habitation of the city, tOA'n, or country ;
creatures tliat are docile and tractable in whatever
we put them to.
To convince men of tlie necessity of taking this
method, let any one, even below the sliill of an
astrologer, behold the turn of faces he meets as
soon as he passes Cheapside Conduit, and yon sec a
deep attention and a certain unthinking sharpness in
every countenance. They look attentive, bat their
thoughts are engaged on mean purjwscs. To me it
is very apparent, w hen I see a citizen pass by, whe-
ther his head is upon woollen, silks, iron, sugar,
indigo, or stocks. Now this trace of thought ap-
pears or lies hid in the race for two or ilirte gene-
rations.
I know at this time a person of a vast estate, wlio
is the immediate descendant of a line gentleman,
but the great grandson of a broker, in whom his
ancestor is now revived. He is a very honest gen-
tleman in his princi])Ies, but c.innot for his blood
talk tairly : he is heartily sorry for it ; but he cheats
by constitution, and overreaches by instinct.
The happiness of the man \\ ho marries my sister
vill be, that he has no faults to correct in her but
her own, a little bias of fancy, or particularity of
manners, which grew in herself, and can beamend-
rd by her. From such an untainted couple, we can
hope to have our family rise to its antient splendor
efface, air, countenance, manner, and shape, wiih-
oiit discovering the product of ten nations in one
hou^e. Obadiah (Jreenhat says, " he never comes
into ,niy company in iMiglnnd, but he distinguishes
tl<e dilferent nations of wiiieh w'c arc composed."
'i'here is .scarce such a living creature as a true
Briton. ^^'c sit down indeed all friends^ ac-
A A 3
270 TATLERi^ N" 76.
quaintance, and neighbours ; but after two bottles,
you see a Dane start up and swear, " The kingdom
is his own." A Saxon drinks up the whole quart,
and swears, '* He will dispute that with him." A
Norman tells them both, " He will assert his li-
berty :" and a Wdchman cries, " They are all fo-
reigners nnd intruders of yesterday," and beats them
out of the room. Such accidents hapj^en frequently
among iieighbours children, and cousin germans.
For which Reason, I say, study your race j or the
soil of your family will dwindle into cits or esquires,
or run up into wits or madmen.
NoTG. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 170P.
S^uicquiJ agutt homtnei
nosiri est farrago /ilel.'i.
JUV, Sat. I. 85, 8.
Whatever good is done, whatever ill
By human kind, shall this collection fill.
From mil own Apartment, Octoler 3.
It is a thing very much to be lamented, that a man
must use a rertain cunnini; to rantion people against
what it is their interest to avoid. All men will al-
low, that it is a great and heroic work to correct
men's errors, and at the price of being called a com-
mon enemy, to go on in being a connnon friend to
my fellow subjects and citizens. Ikit I am forced
in tliis work to revolve the same tiling in ten thou-
K* 16. TATLER. 271
sand lights, and cast them in a? many forms, to
come at men's minds and affections, in ord^r to lead
tlie innocent in safety, as well as disappoint the ar-
tifices of betrayers. Since, therefore, I can make
no impression upon tKe offending side, I shall turn
my ob!ervations upon the offended ; that is to say,
I mast whip my children for going into bad com-
pany, instead of railing at bad company for insnaring
my children.
The greatest misfortunes men fall into, arise from
tlicmselvcs ; and that temper, which is called very
often, though with great injustice, goc d-nature, is
the source of a numberless train of evils. For which
re.ison we are to take this as a rule, th::t no action is
commendable which is'not voluntary ; and we have
ru.idi; this a maxim : " That a man, who is com-
monly called good-natured, is hardly to be thanked
for any thing he does, because half that is acted
about him is done rather by his sufferance than ap-
probation." It is generally laziness of disposition,
which chuses rather to let tilings pass the worst way,
than to go tlirough the pain of examination. It
must bs confessed, such a one has so great a bene-
volence in him, that he bears a thousand uneasi-
nesses rather than he will incommode others : nay
often, when he has just reason to be offended,
chuses rather to sit down with a small injury, than
bring it into reprehension, out of pure compassion
to the offender. Such a person has it usually said
of him, " He is no man's ene.Tiv but his own,"
which is in effect saying, he is a friend to every man
but himself and his friends: for, by a natural con-
sequence of his neglecting himself, he either inca-
pacitates himself to be another's friend, or makrs
others cease to be his. If I take no care of my own
affairs, no man that is my friend can take it ill if I
am negligent also of his. This soft disposition, if it
272 TATLER. N" 76.
continues uncorrected, tlirows men into a sea of
diliiculties.
There is Euphusins, with all the good qualities
it) the world, deserves well of nobody : that uni-
versnl good-will, which is so strong in him, ex-
poses him to the assault of every invader upon his
time, his conversation, and his property. His diet
is butchers-meat, his wenches are in plain pinners
and Norwich crapes, his dress like other people, his
income great ; and yet has he seldom a guinea at
command. From these easy gentlemen, are col-
lected estates by servants or gamesters ; which latter
fraternity are excusable, when we think of this clan,
who seem born to be their prey. All, therefore, of
the family of Actaeon are to take notice, that they
are hereby given up to the brethren of the Industry,
with this reserve only, that they are to be marked
as stricken deer, not for their own sakes, but to
preserve the herd from following them, and coming
within the scent,
I am obliged to leave this Important subject, with-
out telling whose quarters are severed, who has tlie
humbles, who the haunch, and who the sides, of
the last stag that was pulled down ; but this is only
deferred in hopes my deer will make their escape
without more admonitions or examples, of which
they have had, in mine and the town's opinion, too
great a plenty. I nnist, I say, at present go to
other matters of moment.
JFhitcs Chocol ale-house, October 3.
The lady has answered the letter of Mr. Alexander
Landlord, which was published on Thursday last,
but in such a manner as I do not think fit to proceed
in the aftair ; for she has plainly told him, that love
is her design, but marriage her aversion. Bless
K*' 75 TATLER. 273
me f what is this age come to, that people can think
to make a pimp of an astronomer \
1 shall not promote such designs, but shall leare
Iicr to find out Iier admirer, while I speak to ano-
tlier case sent to me by a letter of September the
thirtieth, subscribed, Lovewell Bareboncs, where
the author desires me to suspend my care of the
dead, until I have done someiliing for the dying.
His case is, that the lady he loves is ever accom-
panied by a kinswoman, one of those gay cunning
women, who prevent all the love which is not ad-
dressed to themselves. This creature takes ujjon
licr in his mistress's presence to ask him, " Wlie-
ther Mrs. Florimcl" (that is tlie cruel one's name)
*' is not very handsome ?" upon which he look 5
silly J tlien they both laugh out, and she will tell
Lim, " That Mrs. Florimel had an equal passion
for him, but desired him not to expect the first time
to be admitted in private ; but that now he was at
liberty before her only, vho was her friend, to
speak his mind, and that his mistress expected it."'
Upon which Florimel acts a virgin-confusion,^ and
with some disorder waits his speech. Here ever
follows a deep silence j after which a loud laugh.
Mr. Bareboncs applies himself to me on this occa-
sion. All the advice I can give him is to find a
lover for the confident, for there is no othi-r bribe
will prevail; and I see by her carriage, that it is no
hard matter, for she is too gay to ha\e a particular
passion, or to want a general one.
Some days ago the tow n had a full charge laid
against my Essays, and printed at large. I altered
not one word of what he of the contrary cpinioa
said, but have blotted out some warm things said
for me : therefore, please to hear the counsel for
the defendant, though I shall be so no otherwise
iIkiu to take a middle way, and, if possible, keep
SW* TATLER. IffO 76.
commendations from being insipid to men's taste, xx
raillery pernicious to their characters.
"Mr. BicKERSTAFF, Sept. 30, 1709.
*' As I always looked upon satire as the best friend
to reformation, whilst its lashes were general ; so
that getitleman must excuse me^ if I do not see the
inconvenience of a method he is so much concerned
at. The errors he assigns in it, I tliink, are com-
prisetl in ' the desperation men are generally driven
to, when by a public detection they fall under tlic
infamy they feared, who otherwise, by checking
their bridle, miglit have recovered their stumble,
and through a self-conviction become tlieir own re-
formers : 60 he that was before but a clandestine
disciple, (to use his own quotation) is now become
a doctor in impiety.' The little success that is to
be expected by these methods from a liardcncd of-
fenda', is too evident to insist on ; yet, it is true,
there is a great deal of diarity in this sort of rea-
soning, whilst the effects of those crimes extend
not beyond themselves. But what relation has this
to your proceedings ? It is not a circumstantial
guessing will serve the turn, for there arc more
than one to pretend to any of your characters ; but
there must at least be something that must amount
to a nominal description, before even common fame
can separate me from the rest of mankind to dart at.
A general representation of an action, either ridi-
culous or enormous, may mnke tliose winch who
tind too much similitude in the character with thera-
selvt-s to plead not guilty ; but none but a witness
to the crime can charge thep.5 with the guilt, whilst
the indictment is general, raid the offender has the
asylum of the whole world to protect him. Here
can then be no injustice, where no one is injmtd j
** *ie. TATLER. 275
for k is themselves must appropriate the saddle, be-
fore scandle can ride them.
" Your method then, in my opinion, is r>o wajr
subject to the charge brought against it; but, on
the contrary, I believe this advantage is too often
drawn from it, that whilst we laugh at, or detest,
the uncertain subject of the satire, we often tind
something in the error a parallel to ourselves ; and
being insensibly drawn to the comparison we would
get rid of, we plunge deeper into the mire, and
jh^ime produces that which advice has been too
weak for ; and you. Sir, get converts you never
thought of.
"As for descending to characters below the (Kg-
nity of satire ; what men think are not beneath
commission, I must assure him, I think are not be-
neath reproof: for as there is as much folly in a ri-
diculous deportment, as there is enormity in a cri-
nrnal one, so neither the one nor the other ought ta
plead exemption. The kennel of curs are as much
enemies to the state, as Gregg* for his confede-
racy ; for as this betrayed our government, so the
ether does our property, and on? without the other
is equally usflcss. As for the act of oblivion he so
strenuously insists on, Le Roy s'avixera is a fashion-
able answer ; and for his modus of panegyric, the
birit was unnecrssary, where virtue need never a.-^k
t'A ice for her Inurtl. But as for his reformation by
opposites, I agiiu must ask his pardon, if I think
llie eflects of these sort of reasonitigs, by the pau-
city of converts, are too great an argument, both of
their iiubecillity and unsuccessfulncss, to believe it
* Will am Gregg was an uniler-clerk lo Mr. Secretary
Harley, in 1708, and w.is ilctocicJ in a (reasonable correspon*
i\t:r.ce. Ho ilibcovereil to tlie court of Fiaocc llic des'gil 00
Touloi , and was executed for itia: .uine.
376 TATLER. NO 76-
vvill be any better than mis-spending of time, by
suspending a method that will turn more to advan-
tage, and which has no other danger of losing
ground, but by discontinuance. And as I am cer-
tain of what he supposes, that your Lucubrations
arc intended for Uie public benetit ; so I hope you
will not give them so great an interruption, by lay-
ing aside the only method tliat can render you bc-
nelicial to mankind, and among others, agreeable
to. Sir, }'our humble servant, ike."
St. James's Ciiffcc-hojise, Octoler 3.
Letters from the camp at Havre, of the seventh
instant, N. S. advise, that the trenches were opened
betore Mons on the twenty-seventh of the last
month, and the approaches were carried on at twa
attacks with great application and success, notwith-
standing the rains which had fallen 5 that the be-
siegers had made themselves masters of several re-
doubts, and other out-works, and had advanced tlic
approaclies within ten paces of tlie counterscarps of
the hornwork. Licutenant-General Cadogan re-
ceived a slight wound in the neck soon after open-
ing the trenches.
The enemy were throwing np intrenchments be-
tween Qucsnoy and Valenciennes, and the Che-
valier de Luxemburg was encamped near Charleroy
with a body of ten thousand men. Advices from
Catalonia, by the way of Genoa, import, that Count
Staremberg having passed the Segra, advanced to-
wards BalaguJer, which place he took after a few
hours resi stance, and made the garrison, consisting
of three Spanish battalions, prisoners of war. Let-
ters from Bern say, that the army under the com-
mand of Count ihaun had begun to repass the
mountains, and would shortly evacuate Savoy.
N" 77. TATLER. 277
*#* Whereas Mr. Bickerstaff has received intel-
ligence, that a young gentleman, who has taken
my discourses upon John Partridge and others in too
literal a sense, and is suing an elder brother to an
ejectment ; the aforesaid young gentleman is hereby
advised to drop his action, no man being esteemed
dt\id in law, who eats and drinks, and receives his
Tents.
N 77. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1709.
i'^icf/iJ dgunt homines
noitti (it Jarrago lihelli,
JUV. Sat. 1. 85, 86.
Wha'ever ^noA is Jone, ivbatever ill
By human kiiiJ, shall this collection &1U
From my own Apartment, OcloLer 5.
As bad as the world is, I find by very strict obser-
vation upon virtue and vice, that if men appeared
no worse than they really are, I should have less
work than at present I am obliged to undertake for
their reformalioii. They have generally taken up a
kind of inverted ambition, and affect even faults
and imperfections of which they are innocent. The
other d;iy in a coffee-house I stood by a young heir,
with a fresh, sanguine, and healthy look, who en-
tertained us with an account of his claps and diet-
drink ; though, to my knowledge, he is as sound as
any of his tenants.
VOL. II. B B
218 TATLER. N 77.
This worthy youth put me into reflections upon
that subject ; and I observed the fantastical humour
to be ?o general, that there is hardly a man who h
not more or less tainted with it. The first of this
order of men are the Valetudinarians, who arc ne-
ver in health ; but complain of want of stomach or
rest everyday until noon, and then devour all which
comes before them. Lady Dainty is convinced,
that it is necessary for a gentlewoman to be out of
order : and, to preserve that character, she dines
every day in her closet at twelve, that she may be-
come her table at two, and be unable to eat in pub-
lic. About five years ago, I remeniber, it was the
fashion to be short-sighted. A man would not own
an acquaintance until he had first examined him
vA{\\ his glass. At a lady's entrance into the I'lay-
house, you might see tubes immediately levelled at
her from every quarter of the pit and side-boxes.
However, that mode of infirmity is out, and the
age has recovered its sight: but the blind seem to
be succeeded by the lame, and a janty limp is the
present beauty. I think I have formerly observed,
a cane is part of the dress of a prig, and always worn
upon a button, for fear he should be thought to
have an occasion for it, or be esteemed really, and
not genteelly a cripple. I have considered, but
could never find out the bottom of this v;:nity. I
indeed have heard of a Gascon general, who, by
the lucky grazing of a bullet on the roll of his stock-
ing, took occasion to h;'.lt all his life after. Rut as
for our peaceable cripples, I know no foundation
for their behaviour, without it may be supposed
that, in this warlike age, some think a cane the
next honour to a wooden leg. This sort of aft^ecta-
tion 1 have known run iVom one limb or member
to another. Before the limpcrs came in, I remem-
ber a race of lispcrs, fine persons, who took an
H" "11. TATLER. 279
aversion to particular letters in our language. Some
never uttered the letter H j and others had as mor-
tal an aversion to S. Others have had their fashion-
able defect in their cars, and would make you re-
peat all you said twice over. I know an antient
friend of mine, whose table is every day surrounded
with flatterers, that make use of this, sometimes
as a piece of grandeur, and at others as an art, to
make them repeat their commendations. Such af-
fectations have been indeed in the world in antient
times ; but they fell into them out of politic ends.
Alexander the Great had a wry neck, which made
it the fashion in his court to carry their heads on
one side when they came into the presence. One
who thought to outshine the whole court, carried
his head so over complaisantly, that this martial
prince gave him so great a box on the ear, as set all
tlie heads of the court upright.
This humour takes place in our minds as well as
bodies. I know at this time a young gentleman,
who talks atheistically all day in coffee houses, and
in his degrees of understanding sets up for a Free-
thinker ; tliough it can be proved upon him, lie
says his prayers every morning and evening. But
this class of modern wits I shall reserve for a chap-
ter by itself.
Of the like turn arc all your marriage-haters,
who rail at the noose, at the words, " for ever and
aye," and at the same time are secretly pining for
some young thing or other that makes their hearts
ake by her refusal. The next to these, are such as
pretend to govern tl.eir wives, and boast how ill
they use them ; when at the same time, go to tiicir
houses, and you shall ^ee them step a* if they feared
making a noise, and as fond as an alderman*. I
* As f.iwnin5 as lap-dogs. O. F.
B B 2
2S0 TATLER. N" 77.
do not know but sometimes these pretences may
arise from a desire to conceal a contrary defect than
that they set up for. 1 remember, when I was a
young fellow, we had a companion of a very fear-
ful complexion, who, when we sat in to drink,
would desire us to take his sword from him v.hen
he grew fuddled^ for it was his misloriune to be
quarrelsome.
There are many, many of these evils, which de-
mand my observation ; but because I have of late
been thought somewhat too satirical, I shall give
them warning, and declare to the whole world,
that they are not true, but false hypocrites ; and
make it out that they are good men in their hearts.
The motive of this monstrous affectation, in the
above-mentioned and the like particulars, I take to
proceed from that noble thirst of fame and repu-
tation which is planted in the hearts of all men. As
this produces elegant writings and gallant actions in
men of great abilities, it also brings forth spurious
productions in men who are not capable of distin-
guishing themselves by things which are really
praise-worthy. As the desire of fame in men of
true wit and gallantry shows itself in proper in-
stances, the same desire in men who have the am-
bition without proper faculties, runs wild and dis-
covers itself in a thousand extravagances, by which
they would signalize themselves from others, and
gain a set of admirers. When I was a middle-aged
man, there were niany societies of ambitious young
men in England, who, in their pursuits after fame,
were every night employed in roasting porters,
.smoaking coblers, knocking down watchmen, over-
turning constables, breaking windows, blackening
sign-posts, and the like immortal entcrprizes, that
dispersed their reputation throughout the whole
kingdom. One could hardly find a juiotker iii
N" 77. TATLER. 281
dnnr in a ^vhole street after a midnight expedition
of thfse Braiix Esprits. I was lately very much
surprised by an account of my maid, who entered
niy hrd-chnniber this morning in a very grertt Ivight,
and told me, she was afraid my piilour was
haunted ; for that she had found several panes of
my windows broken, and the floor strewed with
half-pence. I ha\c not yet a full lighfvinto this
neu' way, but am apt to t! ink, that it is a gcneiotis
piece of wit that some of my contempor nies make
use of, to break windows, and leave money to pay
for them.
St. James's Coffee-house, Ocloler ^.
I have no manner of news more than what'the
whole town had the other d.iy ; c.\cept that I have
file original letter of the Marshal Boufflcrs to the
liPiuli king, after the late battle in the woods,
whiili I translate for the benetit of the English
reader :
" Sire,
" This is to let your Majesty understand, that to
your immortal honour, and the destmciion of ihe
coniederates, your troops have lost another battle.
Artagnan did wonders, Rohan perf >ruied mirar'es,
(5uiche did wonders, Gattioti pertbrmed mirniles,
the whole army distiiiijuislied theni-;elvcs and every
body did wonders. And to conclude the wonders
ot the day, I can assure your Majesty, that th</,igh
you have lost the field of hattle, y.ai liaxe not IwSt
an inth of ground. Tlic enemy n. arched behind us
with respect, and we ran away from them ;'S bold
as lions. "
*.y* Letters have been sent to Mr, Fjickerstafr,
relating tothe pre:ient state of tlie town of Ualh,
B B 3
282 TATLER. N^ 78.
wherein the people of that place have desired him
to call home tlie physicians. All gentlemen, there-
fore, of that profession, are hereby directed to re-
turn forthwith to their places of practice ; and the
stage coaches are required to take them in before
other passengers, until there shall be a certificate
signed by the mayor, or Mr. Powel, that Uiere are
but two doctors to one patient left in town.
N78. SATURDAY, OCTOBfIRs, 1709.
^^u'equid aguni boniintt
nojtti eji farragi lihlUi.
JUV. Snt. 1. 85. 86.
'^\'hate'er good is done, ivhatever ill
y human kind, shall this collection 611.
From nnj own Jlparlment, Octoler 7.
As your painters, who deal in history pieces, often
entertain themselves upon broken sketches, and
smaller flourishes of the pencil ; so I find some re-
lief in striking out miscellaneous hints, and sudden
starts of faniy, without any order or connexion,
lifter having f^pent myself on more regular and ela-
borate dissertations. I am at present in this easy
state of mind sat down to my scrutoir; where, for
the better disposition of ray correspondence, 1 have
writ upon every drawer the proper title of its con-
tents J as hypocrisy, dice, patches, politics, love,
duels, and so forth. Wy various advices are ranged
N" 78. TATLER. . SgJ
under such several heads, saving only that I have a
particular box for Pacolet, and another for JSTotio-
culus. I cannot but observe, that my duel-box,
which is filled by the lettered men of honour, is so
very ill spelt, that it is hard to dccypher thrir
writings. My love-box, though on a quite con-
trary subject, filled with the works of the fairest
hands in Great -Britain, is almost as unintelligible.
The private drawer, which is sacred to politics, has
in it some of the most refined panegyrics and satires
that any age has produced.
I have now before me several recommendations
for places at my Table of Fame. Three of them
are of an extraordinary nature, in which I find 1 am
niisunderstood, and shall, therefore, beg leave to
produce them. They are from a quaker, a courtier,
and a citizen.
" Isaac,
*' Thy Lucubrations, as thou Jovest to call them,
have been perused by several of our friends, who
have taken offence : forasmuch as thou exeludest
out of the brotherhood all persons \\ ho are praise-
worthy for religion, we are afraid that thou wilt fill
thy table with none but heathens, and cannot hope
tu spy a brother there j for there are none of us whu
can be placed among murdering heroes, or ungodly
M'its ; since we do not assail our eneiuics with the
arm of flesh, nor our gainsayers with the vanity of
human wisdom. If, therefore, thou wilt demcjii
thyself on this occasion with a right judgment, ac-
C()rding to the gifts that are in thee, we desire tiiou
wilt place James Naylcr at tlie upper end of thy
table.
EZF.KIEL StIFFRUMP."
In answer to my good friend Ezekiel, I tuivt
stand to it, that 1 cannot break my rule for tlie s-kc
284 TATI.ER. N- 78.
of James Xaylcr ; not knowing, whether Alexander
the Great, who is a choleric hero, would not resent
his sitting at the upper end ot" the table with his
hat on.
But to my Courtier.
"SiK,
" I am surprised, that ynu lose your time in com-
plimenting the ^ead, when you may make your
court to the living. Let me only tell you in tlie
ear, Alexander and Cnesar, as generous as they were
formerly, have not now a groat to dispose of. Fill
your table with good company ; I know a person of
tjuality that shall give you one hundred pounds for
a place at it. Be secret, and be rich. Yours,
You know my hand."
This gentleman seems to have the true spirit,
without the formality, of an under-courtier ; there-
fore, I shall be plain with him, and let him leave
the name of his courtier and one hundred pounds in
Morphews hands : if I can take it, I will.
My citizen writes the following :
' AIk. IsA.\C BlCKEKSTAfF,
"Sir,
" Your Tatler, of the thirteenth of September, I
am now reading, and in your list of famous men,
desire you not to forget Alderman Whittington,
who began the world with a cat, and died worth
three hundred and fitty thousand pounds sterling,
which he left to an only daughter three years after
his mayoralty. If you want any further particulars
of fi/f^o alderman, dan'_^hter, or cat, let me know,
and per first will advise the needful : which con-
cludes^ your loving friend,
Lemuel Leger."
N" 78. TATLER. 285
I shall have all due regard to this gentleman's re-
commendation ; but cannot forbear observing how
AvoMcU-rrully this sort of style is adapted for the dis-
patch of business, by leaving out insignificant par-
ticles ; besides that, the dropping of the lirst person
is an artful way to disengage a man from the guilt
of rash words or promises. But I am to consider,
that a citizen's reputation is credit, not fame ; and
am to leave tluse lofty subjects for a matter of pri-
vulc concern in the next letter before me.
" Sir,
" I am just recovered out of a languishing sickness
by tic care of Hippocrates, who visited me through-
out my whole illness, and was so far from taking
any fee, that he inquired into my circumstances,
and would have relieved me also that way. But I did
nut want it. I know no method of tiianking him,
but recommending it to you to celebrate so great
humanity in the manner you think fit, and to do it
wiiii the spirit and sentiments of a man just relieved
from grief, misery, and pain, to joy, satisfaction,
and case ; in w hich you will represent the grateful
sense of your obedient servant.
T. B."
I think the writer of this letter has put tlie mat-
ter in as good a dress as I can for him ; yet I can-
not but add my applause to what this distressed
man has said. Tliere is not a more useful nian in a
commonwealth than a good physician : and by con-
secjuenee no worthier a person than he that uses his
skill with generosity even to persons of condition,
and compassion to those who are in want : which
is the bcluu iour of Hippocrates, who shews as much
Hheraliiy in his practice, as he does wit in his con-
veisition, and skill in his profession. A wealthy
doctor, who can help a poor man, and will not
286 TATLER. N" 73.
without a fee, has less set)se of hnmauity than a
poor ruffian, who kills a rich man to supply his ne-
cessities. It is something monstrous, to consider a
man of a liberal education tearing out the bowels of
a poor family^ by taking for a visit what would keep
them a week. Hippocrates needs not the compari-
son of such extortion to set off his gcnrrosity ; but
1 mention his generosity to add shame to such ex-
tortion.
*^,* This is to give notice to aM inrrrninus gentle-
men in and about the cities of Loudon and Westmin-
ster, who have a mind to be instructed in the noble
sciences of music, poetry, and politics, that they
repair to the Smyrna coftee-house in Pall-mall, be-
twixt the hours of eight and ten at night, where
they maybe instructed gratis, with elaborate Essays
ly word of mouth on all or any of the abovemen-
tioned arts. The disciples are to prepare their bo-
dies with three dishes of bohea, and purge their
brains with two pinches of snuff. If any young
student gives indications of parts, by listening at-
tentively, or asking a pertinent question, one of the
professors shall distinguish him, by taking snuff out
of his box in the presence of the whole audience.
N. B The seat of learning is now removed
from the corner of the chimney on the left-hand to-
wards the window, to the round table in the mid-
dle of the floor overagainst the fire ; a revolution
much lamented by the porters and chairmen, who
were much edified through a pane of glass that re-
mained broken all the lait summer.
fit I cannot forbear advertising my correspondents,
that I think myself treated by some of them after
too familiar a manner, and in phrases that neither
become them to give, nor me to take. I shall thete-
iore desire for the future^ tliat if any one returns
N'^ 7S. TATLER. 287
me an answer to a letter, he will not tell me he has
ri'ccived the favour of my letter ; but, if he does
not tliink fit to say he has received the honour of it,
that he tells me in plain P^nglish he has received my
Idler of such a date. I must likewise insist, that
he would conclude with, 1 am tcith great respect,
(/r plainly, lam, without farther addition ; and not
insult me, by an assurance of his being witJi great
truth and esteem my humble servant. There is like-
wise another mark of superiority which I cannot
bear ; and therefore must inform my correspondents,
that I discard all faithful humble servants, and am
resolved to read no letters that are not subscribed,
your most obedient, or most humble fcrvant, or
both. Tiiese may appear niceties to vulgar minds,
but they arc such as men of honour and distinctiou
must have regard to. And I very well remember
a famous duel in France, where four were killed of
o!ie side, and three of the other, occasioned by a
<:;eiitleman"3 subscribing himself a most affectionate
friend.
One ill the morninj!; of the gtli of Oct(<bei-, 1 709.
I was this nigiit looking on the Moon, and find
l)y certain signs in that luminaiy, that a certain per-
son under her dominion, who has been for many
years di->teinpcred, will within a few hours puhli^h h
pamphlet, wherein he will pretend to gi\e my Lu-
cubrations to a wrong person ; and I re<juire all
fuber disjiosed persons to avoid meeting the said lu-
jKitic, or givin;j him any credence any farther than
piiy demands J and to lock up the said person
Mheriver they find him, keeping him from pen.
ink, I'.nd paper. And 1 hereby prohibit any pt-rsou
to take upon him my writings, on pain of being
sent by me into Lcllic with the said lunatic arid all
his wcrks.
288 TATLER. N" 7y.
N79. TUESDAY, OCTOBER ll, 1709.
Felices ter, fef amfifius,
^os irnipta temt copula ; ntc maf'n
Difulius querimoniii,
Sufnmd ciliut aivet amor die,
HOR. I OJ xiii, 17.
Thrice hapjiy tliey, in pure deligli's
Vi'hom love m miitnal bonds iiniie>^,
Unbroken by complaints or strife
Even to Cite ia'.csC liours of life. FkanciS.
From mij own Apartment, Octitlcr 10.
My sister Jenny's lover, the honest Tranquilhis, tor
that shall be his name, has been impatient with me
to dispatch the necessary directions for his marriage j
that while I am taken up with imaginary schemes,
as he calls them, he might not burn with real de-
sire and the torture of expectation. When I had
reprimanded him for the ardour wherein he ex-
pressed himselt", which I thought had not enough
of that veneration with which the marriage-bed is to
be ascended, I told him, " the day of his nuptials
should be on the Saturday following, which was the
eighth instant." On the seventh in tlie evening,
poor Jenny came into my chamber, and, having lier
heart full of the great change of life from a virgin
condition to that of a wife, she long sat silent. I
saw she expected me to entertain her on this in)por-
tant subject, which was too delicate a circumstance
for herself to touch upon j whereupon I relieved
her modesty in the following manner : " Sister,"
said I, " you are now going from me : and be con-
NO 79. TATLER. 289
tented, that you leave the company of a talkative
old mim, for that of a sober young one : but take
this along with you, tliat there is no 'mean in the
state you are entering into, but you are to be ex-
quisitely happy or miserable, and your fortune la
this way of life will be wholly of your own making.
In all the marriages I have ever seen, most of which
have been unhappy ones, the great cause of evil has
proceeded from slight occasions j and I take it to be
the first maxim in a married condition, that you are
to be above trifles. When two f>ersons have so good
an opinion of each other as to come together for
life, they will not differ in matters of importance,
because they think of each other with respect ; and
in regard to all things of consideration that may af-
fect them, they are prepared for mutual assistance
and relief in such occun^ences. For less occasions,
they form no resolutions, but leave their minds un-
prepared.
' This, dear Jenny, is the reason that the quarrel
between Sir Harry Willit and his lady, which be-
gan about her squirrel, is irreconcilable. Sir HaiTy
was reading a grave autlior j she runs into his study,
and, in a playing humour, claps the squirrel upon
the foHo : he threw the animal in a rage on the
lloor ; she snatches it up again, calls Sir Harry a
sour pedant, without guod-nature or good manners.
This cast him into such a rage, that he tlirew down
the table before him, kicked the book round the
room; tlu-n recollected himself : 'Lord, Madam,'
said he, ' why did you run into such expressions ?
I was,' said he, ' in the highest delight with that
author, when you clapped your squirrel upon my
book ;' and, smiling, added upon recollection, I
have a great respect for your favourite, and pray
let us all be friends.' My lady was so far from ac-
cepting this apology, that she immediately conceived
VOL. u. C c
290 TATLER, N 79.
3 resolution to keep him under forever; and, with
a serious air, replied, ' There is no regard to be had
to what a man says, who can fall into so indecent a
rage, and such an abject submission, in the same
moment, for which I absolutely despise you.' Upon
which she rushed out of the room. Sir Harry
stayed some minutes behind, to think and command
himself; atter which he followed herJnto her bed-
chamber, where she was prostrate upon the bed,
tearing her hair, and naming twenty coxcombs who
would have used her otherwise. This provoked
him to so high a degree, that he forbore nothing but
beating her ; and all the servants in the family were
at their several stations listening, whilst the best
man and woman, the best master and mistress, de-
famed each other in a way that is not to be repeated
even at Billingsgate. You know this ended in an
immediate separation : she longs to return home,
but knows not how to do it : he invites her home
every day, and lies with every woman he can get.
Her husband requires no submission of her ; but
she thinks her very return will argue she is to blame,
which she is resolved to be for ever, rather than ac-
knowledge it. Thus, dear Jenny, my great advice
to you is, be guarded against giving or receiving
little provocations. Great matters of offence I have
no reason to fear cither from you or your husband."
After this, we turned our discourse into a more
gay style, and parted : but before we did so, I made
her resign her snuff-box for ever, and half drown
herself with washing away the stench of the
rousty.
But the wedding morning arrived, and our fa-
mily being very numerous, there was no avoiding
the inconvenieijce of making the ceremony and fes-
tival more public, than the modern way of cele-
brating them makes me approve of. The bride next
N 79. TATLER. 291
morning came out of her chamber, dressed with all
the art and care that Mrs. Toilet, the tire-woman,
could bestow on her. She was on her wedding-day
three-aud-twenty ; her person is far from what we
call a regular beauty ; but a certain sweetness in
her countenance, an ease in her shape and motion,
with an unaffected modesty in her looks, had at-
tractions beyond what symmetry and exactness can
inspire, witliout the addition of these endowments.
When her lover entered the room, her features
flushed with shame and joy } and the ingenuous
manner, so full of passion and of awe, with which
Tranquillus approached to salute her, gave me good
omens of his future behaviour towards her. The
wedding was wholly under my care. After the ce-
remony at church, I was resolved to entertain the
company with a dinner suitable to the occasion, and
pitched upon tlie Apollo, at the Old Devil at
Temple-bar, as a place sacred to mirth tempered
with discretion, where Ben Jonson and his sons
used to make their liberal meetings. Here the chief
of the Staffian race appeared j and as soon as the
company were come into that ample room, Lepidus
Wagstalf began to make me compliments for
choosing that place, and fell into a discourse upon
the subject of pleasure and entertainment, drawn
from the rules of Ben's club, which are in gold
letters over the chimney. Lepidus has a way very
uncommon, and speaks on subjects on which any
man els-j would certainly ofiend, witli great dex-
terity. He gave us a large account of the pub-
lic meetings of all the well-turned minds who
had passed through this life in ages past, and
closed his pleasing narrative with a discourse on
niavriago, and a repetition of the following verses
out of Milton.
c c a
292 TATL*ER. N" 79.
*' Hail, wedded love ! mysterious law ! true source
" Of Imrfian oflspnng, sole propriety
** In paradisp, of all things common the.
* By tliec ..diilt'ious liM was driven from men
*' Among the be<!tiMl herds to ra ige ; hv tliee,
" Founded in reason, loyal, Just, .,nd pure^
** Relations dear, and all the charities
" Of father, son, and biothe., fust were known.
*' Perpetual fountain of domestic sweetF,
*' Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronnnnc'd,
*' Present or pas?, as saints or patnarchs us'd.
" Here Love his golden shafts employs ; here lights
* His constant lamp, and waves his purple w'ngs :
" Reigns here, and revels not in the bought smile
' Of harl >if, loveless, joyless, unendear'd,
*' Casual fruition ; nor in couit amours,
' MixM dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball,
* Or serenade, which the starv'd lover sings
*' To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain."
In these verses, all the images that can come
into a young woman's head on such an occasion are
raised j but that in so chaste and elegant a manner,
that the bride thanked him for his agreeable talk,
and we sat down to dinner.
Among the rest of the company, there was got in
a fellow you call a Wag. This ingenious person is
the usual life of all feasts and merriments, by speak-
ing absurdities, and putting every body of breeding
and modesty out of countenance. As soon as we
sat down, he drank to the bride's diversion that
night ; and then made twenty double meanings on
the word thing. We are the best-bred family, for
one so numerous, in this kingdom ; and indeed we
should all of us have been as much out of coun-
tenance as the bride, but that we were relieved by
an honest rough relation of ours at the lower end of
the table, who is a lieutenant of marines. The
soldier and sailor had good plain sense, and saw
what was wrong as well as another ; he had a way
N' 80. TATLER. 293
of looking at his plate, and speaking aloud in an in-
ward manner ; and whenever the Wag mentioned
the word thing, or the words, that same, the lieu-
tenant in that voice cried, " Knock him down.'*
The merry man, wondering, angry, and looking
round, was the diversion of the table. When he
offered to recover, and say, " To the bride's best
thoughts," " Knock him down," says the lieutenant,
and so on. This silly humour diverted, and saved
us from the fulsome entertainment of an ill-bred
coxcomb ; and the bride drank the lieutenant's
health. We returned to my lodging, and Tran-
quillus led his wife to her apartment, without the
ceremony of throwing the stocking.
N''80. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1709.
Sbficquld agunt bomintt
noitri ett /tirragt libtlli,
JUV. Sat. I. 85, 86.
Whatever gooJ is done, lubaUvtr ill
By human kind, shall this collection fill.
Grecian Cojfee-home, Octoler 12,
This learned board has complained to me of the
exorbitant price of late years put upon books, and
consequently on learning, which has raised the re-
ward demanded by learned men for their advice and
labour. In order to regulate and fix a standard in
these matters ; divines, physicians, and lawyers,
c c 5
294 TATLER, N* 80.
have sent in large proposals, which are of great
light and instruction. From the perusal of diese
memorials, I am come to this immediate resolution,
until I have leisure to treat the matter at large, viz.
In divinity, fathers shall be valued according to
their antiquity ; schoolmen by tlie pound weight ;
zndi sermons by their goodness. In my own pro-
fession, which is mostly physic, authors shall be
rated according to their language. The Greek is so
rarely understood, and the EngUsh so well, I judge
them of no value ; so that only Latin shall bear a
price, and that too according to its purity, and as it
serves best for prescription. In law, the value must
be set according to the intricacy and obscurity of the
author, and blackness of the letter; provided al-
ways, that the binding be of calves-skin. 1 his me-
thod I shall settle also with relation to all other
writings ; insomuch that even these our Lucubra-
tions, though hereafter printed by Aldus, Elzevir,
or Stephens, shall not advance above one single
penny.
White's Chocolate-house, Octolcr 12.
It will be allowed me, that I Ixave all along
shewed great respect in matters which concern the
fair sex j but the inhumanity with which the author
of the following letter has been used is not to be
suffered.
" Sir, Octoler 9.
'* Yesterday I had the misfortune to drop in at
my lady Haughty's, upon her visiting-day. When
I entered tlie room where she receives company,
they all stood up indeed ; but they stood as if they
were to stare at rather than to receive me. After
a long pause, a senant brought a round stool, on
which I sat down at tlie lower end of the room, in
N 80. TATLER. 295
the presence of no less than twelve persons, gentle-
men and ladies, lolling in elbow-chairs. And, to
complete my disgrace, my mistress was of the so-
ciety. I tried to compose myself in vain, not know-
ing how to dispose of either my legs or arms, nor
how to shape my countenance ; the eyes of the
whole room being still upon me in a profound si-
lence. My confusion at last was so great, that,,
without speaking, or being spoken to, I fled for it,
and left the assembly to treat me at their discretion.
A lecture from you upon these inhuman distinctions
in a free nation, will, I doubt not, prevent the like
evils for the future, and make it, as we say, as
cheap sitting as standing.
J am, with the greatest respect. Sir,
Your most humble, and
most obedient sen^ant,
J. R.
" P. S, I had almost forgot to inform you, that
a fiilr young lady sat in an armless chair upon my
right hand, with manifest discontent in her looks."
Soon after the receipt of tins epistle, I heard a
very gentle knock at my door : my maid went down,
and brought up word, "that a tall, lean, black
man, well dressed, who said he had not the honour
to be acquainted with me, desired to be admitted."
t bid her show him up, met him at my chamber-
door, and tlien fcU back a few paces. He ap-
proached mc with great respect, and told me, with
a low voice, " he was the gentleman that had been
seated upon the round stool." I immediately re-
collected that there was a joint-stool in my cham-
ber, which I was afraid he might take for an instni-
mcnt of distinction, and therefore winked at niy
\)vy lo tarry ii into my closet. I then took him by
296 TATLER. N" 80.
the hand, and led him to the upper end of my room,
where I placed him in my great elbow-chair ; at the
same time drawing another without arms to it, for
myself to sit by him. I then asked him, " at what
time this misfortune beftl him ?" He answered,
*' between the hours of seven and eight in the even-
ing." I further demanded of him, what he had
cat or drunk that day ? he replied, " nothing but a
dish of water-gruel with a few plumbs in it." In
the next place, 1 felt his pulse, which was very low
and languishing. These circumstances confirmed
me in an opinion, which I had entertained upon
the first reading of his letter, that the gentleman
was far gone in the spleen. I, therefore, advised
him to rise the next morning, and plunge into the
cold-bath,^ there to remain under water until he was
almost drowned. This I ordered him to repeat six
days successively j and on the seventh to repair at
tlie wonted hour to my lady Hauglity's, and to ac-
quaint me afterwards with what he shall meet with
there ; and particularly to tell me, whether he
shall think they stared upon him so much as the
time before. The gentleman smiled j and, by his
way of talking to me, shewed himself a man of
cxcehent sense in all particulars, unless when a
cane-rhair, a round or a joint-stool, were spoken
of. He opiened his heart to me at the same time
concerning several other grievances ; such as, being
overlooked in public assemblies, having his bows
unanswered, being helped last at table, and placed
at the back part of a coach ; with many other dis-
tresses, which have withered his countenance,
and worn hiu to a skeleton. Finding him a man
of reason, I entered into the bottom of his dis-
temper. " Sir," said I, " there are more of your
constitution in this island of Great-Britain than
V" 80. TATLFR. 297
in any other part of the world ; and I beg the
favour of you to tell me, whether you do not
observe, that you meet with most atfrpnts in rainy
days ?" He answered candidly, " that he had
long observed, that people were less saucy in sun-
shine tlian m cloudy weather. Upon which I told
bim plainly^ " his distemper was the spleen ; and
that though the world was very ill-riatured, it was
not so bad as he believed it." I further assured
him, that his use of the cold-bath, with a course
of j/ee/ which I should prescribe him, would cer-
tainly cure most of his acquaintance of their
rudeness, ill-behaviour, and impertinence." My
patient smiled, and promised to observe my pre-
scriptions, not forgetting to give me an account of
their operation. This distemper being pcetty epi-
demical, I shall, for the benefit of mankind, give
the public an account of the progress I make in the
cure of It.
From my own Apartment, Octolcr 12.
The author of the following letter behaves him-
self so ingenuously, that I cannot defer answering
him any longer.
" Honoured Sir, October 6.
" I have lately contracted a very honest and un-
dissemblcd claudication in my left foot, which
will be a double affliction to me, if, according to
your Taller of this day, it must pass upon tlie world
for a piece of singularity and affectation. I must,
there tore, humbly beg leave to limp along the
streets after my own way, or I shall be inevitably
ruined in coach-hire. As soon as I am tolerably
recovered, I promise to walk as upright as a ghost
in a tragedy, being not of a stature to spare an
?98 TATLER. N 80.
inch of height that I can any way pretend to. I
honour your Lucubrations, and am, witli the moat
profound submission.
Honoured Sir,
your most dutiful and
most obedient servant, &c."
Not doubting but the case is as the gentleman re-
presents, I do hereby order Mr. Morphew to deliver
him out a licence, upon paying his fees, which
shall impowerhim to wear a cane until the thirteenth
of March next ; five months being the most I can
allow for a sprain.
St. James's Coffee-house, October 12.
We received this morning a mail from Holland,
which brings advice tliat the siege of Mons is car-
ried on with so great vigour and bravery, that we
hope very suddenly to be masters of the place j all
things necessary being prepared for making the as-
sault on the horn-work and ravelin of the attack of
Beriamont, the charge began with the fire of bombs
and grenadoes, which was so hot, that the enemy
quitted their post, and we lodged ourselves on those
works without opposition. During this storm, one
of our bombs fell into a magazine of the enemy, and
blew it up. There are advices, which say the court
of France had made new offers of peace to the Con-
federates ; but this intelligence wants confirmation.
N" 81. TATLER. 299
K81. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1709.
Hie manus ob patriam fugMondo vulnera fasti,
^4iaue pit vates, &f Pbegho digna locuti;
Inventat out qui vilam '.xculuert per a-tetf
^ijue sui memoret alitiftctre nurendo.
ViRO. ^n. vi. 660.
Here patriots live, who, for their country's good.
In fighting fields were prodigal of blood ;
Here poets worthy their inspiring god,
And of unblemish'd life, make their abode:
A-id searching wits, of more mechanic parts.
Who grac'd their age with new-invented arts:
Those who to worth their bounty did extend ;
And those who knew that bounty to commend.
DavDSN.
From my own Apartment^ October 14.
There are two kinds of immortality j that which
the soul really enjoys after tliis life, and tliat imagi-
nary existence by which men live in tlieir fame and
reputation. The best and greatest actions have pro-
ceeded from the prospect of the one or the other of
these ; but my design is to treat only of tho^e who
have chiefly proposed to themselves the latter, as
the principal reward of tlieir labours. It was for
this reason that I excluded from my Tables of Fame
all the great founders and votaries of religion ; and
it is for this reason also, tliat I am more than ordi-
nary anxious to do justice to the persons of whom I
am now going to speak; for, since fame was the on-
ly end of all their enterprizes and studies, a man
cannot be too scrupulous in allotting them their due
proportion of it. It was this consideration which
300 TATLEH. N- 8 1 .
made me call die whole body of tlie learned to my
assistance ; to many of whom I must own my obli-
gations for tlie catalogues of illustrious persons, which
tliey have sent me in upon this occasion. I yester-
day employed tlie whole afternoon in comparing them
with each otlierj which made so strong an impres-
sion upon my imagination, that they broke my sleep
for the first part of the following night, and at length
threw me into a veiy agreeable Vision, which I shall
beg leave to describe in all its particulars.
I dreamed that I was conveyed into a wide and
boundless plain, that was covered with prodigious mul-
titudes of people, which no man could number. Iji
the midst of it there stood a mountain, witli its head
above the clouds. The sides were extremely steep,
and of such a particular structure, that no creature
which was not made in an human figure could possi-
bly ascend it. On a sudden there w:is heard from
the top of it a sound like that of a trumpet j but so
exceeding sweet and harmonious, that it filled tlie
hearts of those who heard it with raptures, and gave
such high and delightful sensations, as seemed to
animate and raise human nature above itself. This
made me very much amazed to find so ver)^ few in
that innumerable multitude, who had ears fine enough
to hear, or relish this music with pleasure : but my
wonder abated, when, upon looking round me, I saw
most of them attentive to three Syrens, cloatlied like
Goddesses, and distinguished by the names of Sloth,
Ignorance, and Pleasure. They were seated on three
rocks, amidst a beautiful variety of groves, meadows,
and rivulets, tliat lay on the borders of tlie mountain.
While the base and groveling multitude of diifercnt
nations, ranks, and ages were listening to these delu-
sive Deities, those of a more erect aspect, and ex-
alted spirit, separated tliemselves from the rest, and
marched in great bodies towards the mountain fron^
ir Si. TATLER. 301
whence they heard the sound, which still grew
sweeter, the more they listened to it.
On a sudden methought tliis select band sprang
forward, with a resolution to climb tlie ascent, and
follow the call of that heavenly music. Every one
took something with him that he thought might be
of assistance to him in his march. Several had their
swords drawn, some carried rolls of paper in tlieir
hands, some had compasses, otliers quadrants, otliers
telescopes, and others pencils. Some had laurels on
iheir heads, and others buskins on their legs; in
short, there was scarce any instrument of a mechanic
art, or liberal science, which was not made use of
on tliis occasion. My good Daemon, who stood at
my right liand during the course of lliis whole vision,
observing in me a burning desire to join tliat glorious
company, told me, " he highly approved that gener-
ous ardour with which I seemed transported;" but
at the same time advised me to cover my face with a
mask all the while I was to labour on the ascent."
1 took his council, without inquiring into his reasons.
The whole body now broke into difterent parties,
and began to climb tlie precipice by ten thousand
different paths. Several got into little alleys, which
did not reach far up the hill, before they ended, and
led no farther ; and I observed, tliat most of the ar-
tizans, which considerably diminished our number,
tell into these patlis.
We left another considerable body of adventurers
behind us, who thought they had discovered by-ways
up the hill, which proved so very intricate and per-
plexed, that, after having advanced in tliem a little,
they were quite lost among the several turns and
windings ; and though they were as active as any in
their motions, they made but litdc progress in the
ascent. These, as my guide informed me, were men
of subtle tempers, and puzzled politicks, who would
VOL. II. DD
S02 TATLER, N8T.
supply the place of real wisdom with cunning and
artitice. Among tliose who were far advanced in
their way, there were some that by one false step fell
backward, and lost more ground in a moment than
they had gained for many hours, or could be ever
able to recover. We were now advanced very high,
and observed that all the different paths which ran
about the sides of the mountain began to meet in two
gicat roads; which insensibly gathered the whole
multitude of travellers into tw o great bodies. At a
little distance from the entrance of each road there
stood an hideous phantom, that opposed our furtlier
passage. One of mese apparitions had his right hand
tilled with darts, which he brandished in the face of
all who came up that way. Crouds ran back at the
apj>earance of it, and cried out. Death, The spectre
that guarded the other road was Emy. She was not
arm'd with weapons of destruction, like the former;
but by dreadful hissings, noises of reproach, and a
horrid distracted laughter, she appeared more fright-
ful than Death itself, insomuch, that abundance of
our company were discouraged from passing any far-
ther, and some appeared ashamed of having come
so far. As for myself, I must confess, my heart
shmnk within me at the sight of these ghastly ap-
pearances ; but, on a sudden, the voice of the trum-
pet came more full upon us, so that we felt a new-
resolution reviving in us ; and in proportion as tliis
resolution grew, the terrors before us seemed to
vanish. Most of the company, who had swords in
their hands, marched on with great spirit, and an air
of defiance, up the road that was commanded by
Death ; while others, who had thought and con-
templation in their looks, went forward in a more
composed manner up the road possessed by Envy,
The way above these apparitions grew smooth and
uniform, and was so delightful, that the travellers
N" 81. TATLER. SOS
went oa with pleasure, and in a little time arrived at
the top of Uxe mountain. They here began to breathe
a delicious kind of ajther, and saw all the fields about
them covered with a kind of purple light, that made
them reflect with satisfaction on their past toils ; and
diffused a secret joy through the whole assembly,
which shewed itself in every look and feature. In the
midst of these happy fields there stood a palace of a
very glorious structure. It had four great folding-
doors, that faced tlie four several quarters of tlie
world. On the top of it was enthroned the Goddess
of the mountain, who smiled upon her votaries, and
sounded the silver tnmipet which had called tliem
W>, and cheared them in their passage to her palace.
They had now formed themselves into several divi-
sions ; a band of historians taking their stations at
each door, according to the persons whom tliey were
to introduce.
On a sudden, tlie trumpet, which had hitherto
sounded only a march, or a point of war, now swell -
ed all its notes into triumph and exultiition. The
whole fabric shook, and the doors flew open. The
first who stepped forward was abeautitiil and bloom-
ing hero, and as I heard by the murmurs round me,
Alexander tlie Great. He was conducted by a croud
of historians. The person who immediately walked
before him was remarkable for an embroidered gar-
ment, who, not being well acquainted willi the
place, was conducting him to an apartment appoint-
ed for the reception of fabulous heroes. The name
of this false guide was Quintus Curtius. But Arrian
and Plutarch, who knew better the avenues of this
palace, conducted him into tlie great hall, and plac-
ed him at tlie upper end of the first table. My good
Da;nion, that I might see the whole ceremony, con-
veyed me to a corner of this room, where I might
perceive all tliat passed, without being seen myself.
DUX
304 TATLER. N81
Tlie next who entered was a charming virgin, lead-
ing in a venerable old man tliat was blind. Under
iicr left arm she bore a harp, and on her head a gar-
land. Alexander, who was very well acquainted with
Homer, stood up at his entrance, and placed him on
his right hand. The virgin, who it seems was one
of the nine sisters that attended on the Goddess of
Fame, smiled with an ineffable grace at their meet-
ing, and retired.
Julius Caesar was now coming forward ; and
though most of the historians pffered their ser\'ice to
introduce him, he left them at the door, and would
have no conductor but himself.
The next who advanced was a man of an homely
but chearful aspect, and attended by persons o
greater figure than any that appeared on this occa-
sion, Plato was on his right hand, and Xenophon
on his left. He bowed to Homer, and sat down by
him. It was expected that Plato would hUnself have
taken a place next to hi.s master Socrates ; but on a
sudden there was heard a great clamour of disputant*
at the door, who appeared with Aristotle at the head
of tliem. That philosopher, with some rudeness,
but great strcngtli of reason, convinced the whole
table, that a title to the fifth place was his due, and
took it accordingly.
He had scarce sat down, when the same beautiful
virgin that had introduced Homer brought in another,
who hung back at the entrance, and would have ex-
cu.sed himself, .had not his modesty been overcome
by the invitation of all who sat at the table. His
guide and behaviour made me easily conclude it M'as
Virgil. Cicero next appeared, and took his place.
He had inquired at the door for one Lucceius to in-
troduce him ; but, not finding him there, he con-
tented himself with the attendance of many other
R 81. TATLER. 30^
writers, who all, except Sallust, appeared highly
pleased with the office.
We waited some time in expectation of the next
worthy, who came in with a great retinne of histo-
rians, whose name* I could not learn, roost of them
being natives of Cartilage. The person thus con-
ducted, who was Hannibal, seemed much disturbed,
and could not forbear complaining to tlie board, of
the affronts he had met with among the Roman his-
torians, "who attempted," says he, "to carry me
into the subterraneous apartment j and, perhaps,
would have d<xie it, had it not been for the impar-
tiality of tliis gentleman," jwinting to Polybius,
*' who was the only person, except my own coun-
trymen, that was willing to conduct me hither."
Tlie Carthaginian took his seat, and Pompey en-
tered with great dignity in his own person, and pre-
ceded by several historians. Lucan the poet was at
the head of them, who observing Homer and Virgil
at tlje table, was going to sit down himself, had not
the latter whispered him, that whatever pretence he
might otherwise have had, he forfeited his claim to
it, by coming in as one of the historians. Lucan
was so exasperated with the repulse, thaf he mutter-
ed something to himself; and was heard to say,
*' tliat since he could not have a seat among them
himself, he would bring in one who alone had more:
merit than their whole assembly :" upon which he
went to the door, and brought in Cato of Utica.
That great man approached the company with such
an air, that shewed he contemned tHe honour which
he laid a claim to. Observing the jeat opposite to
Cnesar was vacant, he took possession of it, and spokes
two or three snvirt sentences upon the nature of pre-
redrncy, which, according to him, consisted not in
place, but in intrinsic merit: to which he added,
' that the most virtuons man, wherever he was seat-
DD3
S06 TATLER. N'8l.
ed, was always at the upper end of the table." So-
crates, who had a great spirit of raillery with his
wisdom, could not forbear smiling at a virtue which
took so little pains to make itself agreeable. Cicero
took the occasion to make a long discourse in praise
of Cato, which he V-ttered with much veliemenoc.
Caesar answered him witli a great deal of seeming
temper j but, as I stood at a great distance from them,
I was not able to hear one word of what they said.
But I could not forbear taking notice, that, in all the
discourse which passed at the table, a word or nod
from Homer decided the controversy.
After a short pause, Augustus appeared, looking
round him with a serene and affable countenance
upon all the writers of his age, who strove among
themselves which of them should shew him the great-
est marks of gratitude and respect. Virgil rose from
the table to meet him ; and though he was an accept-
able guest to all, he appeared more such to the learn-
ed, than the military worthies.
The next man astonished die whole table with his
appearance. He was slow, solemn, and silent in his
behaviour, and wore a raiment cm'iously wrought
with hieroglyphics. As he came into the mid-
dle of the room, he threw back the skirt of it, and
discovered a golden thigh. Socrates, at the sight
of it, declared against keeping company AVitli any
who were not made of flesh and blood ; and, there-
fore, desired Diogenes the Laertian to lead him to
the aj)artnient allotted for fabulous heroes, and wor-
thies of dubious existence. At his going out, he told
them, " that they did not know whom they dismiss-
ed ; that he was now Pythagoras, the first of phi-
losophers, and that formerly he had been a very
brave man at the siege of Troy." "That may be
very true," said Socrates ; " but you forget that you
have likewise been a very great harlot iji your tim<:."
W8I. TATLER, 307
This exclusion made way for Archimedes, who came
forward with a scheme of mathematical figures in
his hand j among which I observed a cone and -a
cylinder.
Seeing this table full, I desired my guide, for va-
riety, to lead me to the fabulous apartment, the roof
of which was painted with Gorgons, Chimaeras, and
Centaurs, with many other emblematical figures,
which I wanted both time and skill to unriddle.
The first table was almost full : at the upper end sat
Hercules, leaning an arm upon his club ; on his
right hand were Achilles and Ulysses, and between
them iEneas ; on his left were Hector, Theseus,
and Jason : the lower end had Orpheus, ^sop,
Piialaris, and Musxus. The ushers seemed at a loss
for a twelfth man, when, methought, to my great
jov and surprize, I heard some at the lower end of
the table mention Isaac Bickerstaff; but those of the
upper end received it willi disdain ; and said, " if
they must have a British worthy, tliey would have
Robin Hood."
While I was transported with the honour tliat was
done me, and burning with envy against my com-
petitor, I was awakened by the noise of the cannon
which were then fired for the taking of Mons. I
should have been very much troubled at being thrown
out of s(j pleasing a vision on any other occasion ; but
thought it an agreeable change, to have my thoughts
diverted from the greatest among the dead and fabu-
lous heroes, to the most famous among tlie real and
the living.
308 TATLER. JT 82.
^^"82. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 18, n09.
Vbi kiem &f maximut &f bonettUumut amar ett, ali^uando fr^Uttt
mortejungi, quam vild diitrahi. Val. MaX>
Where there is the greatest and most honnunble lo7e, it it
sometimes better to be joined in death, liian feparateU in life.
From my own Jpartment, October ij.
After the mind has been employed on contempla-
tions suitable to its greatness, it is unnatural to run
into sudden mirth or levity j but we must let the soul
subside, as it rose, by proper degrees. My late con-
siderations of tlie antient heroes impressed a certain
gravity upon my mind, which is much above the
little gratification received from starts of humour and
fancy, and threw me into a pleasing sadness. In this
state of thought I have been looking at the fire, and
in a pensive manner reflecting upon the great mis-
fortunes and calamities incident to human life ;
among which there are none that touch so sensibly
as those which befal persons who eminently love, and
meet with fatal interruptions of dieir happiness when
they least expect it. The piety of children to parents,
and tlie affection of parents to their children, are the
effects of instinct ; but the aflfection between lovers
and friends is founded on reason and choice, which
lias always made me think the sorrows of the latter
much more to be pitied than those of the former.
1'he contemplation of distresses of this sort softens
the mind of man, and makes the heart better. It
extinguishes the seeds of envy and ill-will towards
mankind, corrects the pride of prosperity, and beats
K' 82. TATLER. S0
down all that fierceness and insolence which are apt
to get into tlie minds of the daring and fortunate.
For this reason the wise Athenians, in their thcr
atrical performances, laid before tlie eyes of the peo-
ple tlie greatest afflictions which could befal human
life, and insensibly polished their tempers by such
representations. Among the moderns, indeed, there
has arisen a chimerical method of disposing the for-
tune of the persons represented, according to what
Ihey call poetical justice ; and letting none be unhap-
py but those who deserve it. In such cases, an intel-
ligent spectator, if he is concerned, knows he ought
not to be so j and can learn nothing from such a ten-
derness, but that he is a weak creature, whose pas-
sions cannot follow the dictates of his understanding.
It is very natural, when one is got into such a way
of thinking, to recollect those examples of sorrow
which have made the strongest impression upon our
imaginations. An instance or two of such you will
give me leave to communicate.
A young gentleman and lady of antient and ho-
nourable houses in Cornwall had from their childhood
entertained for each other a generous and noble pas-
sion, which had been long opposed by their friends,
V>y reason of tiie inequality of their fortunes j but
their constancy to each other, and obedience to those
on whom they depended, wrought so much upon
their relations, that these celebrated lovers were at
length joined in marriage. Soon after their nuptials,
the bridegroom was obliged to go into a foreign coun-
try, to take care of a considerable fortune, which
was left him by a relation, and came very opportunely
to improve their moderate circumstances. They
received the congratulations of all the country on this
occasion ; and I remember it was a common sen-
tence in every one's mouth, " You see how faithful
love is rewarded."
310 TATLEIt. V S2.
He took this agreeable voyage, and -sent hnin
every post frcsh accounts of his success in his affairs
abroad j but at hist, though he designed to return
\^'ith the next ship, he lamented, in his letters, that
** business would detain him some time longer from
hem ," because he would give himself the pleasure
of an unexpected arrival.
1 he young lady, after the heat of the day, walked
every evening on the sea-sliore, near which she lived,
with a familiar friend, her husband's kinsv.oraan;
and diverted herself witli what objects they met there,
or upon discourses of the future methods of life, ia
the happy change of their <:ircumstances. They
stood one evening on tlie shore together in a perfect
tranquillity, observing ihe setting of the sun, the
calm face of tlie deep, and the silent heaving ot the
wa\ es, which gently rolled towards them, and broke
at their feet; when at a distance her kinswoman saw
something float on the waters, which she fancied
"was a chest ; and with a smile told her, " she saw it
first, and if it came ashore full of jewels, she had a
right to it." They both fixed their eyes upon it, and
entertained tliemselves with the subject of the wreck,
tlie cousin still asserting her right ; but promising,
"" if it was a prize, to give her a very rich coral for
tlie child of \s hich she was then big, provided .slic
might be god-mother." Their mirth soon abated,
"when tliey observed, upon the nearer approach, (Jiat
it was a hnnian body. The young lady, who had a
heart natundly filled with pity and compassion, made
many melancholy reflections on the occasion. " Who
knows," said she, "but this man may be tlie only-
hope and heir of a wealthy house ; the darling of in-
dulgent parents, who are now in impertinent mirtli,
and pleasing themselves with the tlioughts of offer-
ing him a bride they had got ready for him? or,
may lie not be the master of a family tliat wholly
Jg^B2, TATLER. SI I
depended upon his life ? There may, for aught we
know, be half a dozen fatherless children, and a
tender wife, now exposed to poverty by his death.
What pleasure might he have promised himself iu
ihc diflEerent welcome he was to have from her and
ihcm ? But let us go away > it is a dreadful sight I
Tlie best office we can do, is to take care that the
poor man, whoever he is, may be decently buried."
She turned away, when a wave threw the carcass-on
the shore. The kinswcmian immediately shrieketi
Tit, "Oh, my cousin I" arid fell upon the ground.
The unhappy wife went to help her friend, when
she saw her own husband at her feet, and dit)pped
in a swoon upon the body. An old woman, who had
been the gentleman's nurse, came ovit about Uvs
time to call the ladies in to supper, and found her
child, as she always called him, dead on the shore,
her mistress and kinswoman both lying dead by hini.
Her loud lamentations, and calling her young master
to life, soon awaked the friend from her trance j but
the wife was gone for ever.
When the family and neighbourhood got togetlier
round the bodies, no one asked any question, but
lire objects before them told the story.
Irrcidents of this nature are the more moving when
tlicy are drawn by persons concerned in the catastro-
phe, notwithstanding they are often oppressed be-
yrmd the power of giving them in a distinct light,
except we gatlier their sorrow from their inability
to speak it.
I have two original letters, written both on the
snme day, which are to me exquisite in their different
kinds. The occasion was this. A gentleman who
had courted a most agreeable young M-oman, and
won her heart, obtained also the consent of her fa-
ther, to whom she was an only child. The old man
had a fancy that they should be married in the same
812 TATLER. K=82.
church where he himself was, in a village in West-
morland, and made them set out while he was laid
up with the gout at London, The bridegroom took
only his man, the bride her maid: they had the
most agreeable journey imaginable to the place of
marriage; from whence the bridegroom writ the
following letter to his wife's father.
"Sir, March i8, 1672.
" After a very pleasant journey hither, we are
preparing for the happy hour in which I am to be
your son. I assure you the bride carries it, in the
eye of the vicar who married you, much beyond her
mother ; though he says, your open sleeves, panta-
loons, and shoulder-knot, made a much better show
than the finical dress I am in. However, I am con-
tented to be the second fine man this village ever
saw, and shall make it very merry before night, be-
cause I shall write myself from thence,
" Your most dutiful son,
"T. D.
** The bride gives her duty, and is as handsome
as an angel. 1 am the happiest man breathing."
The villagers were assembling about the church,
and the happy couple took a walk in a private gar-
den. The bridegroom's man knew his master would
leave the place on a sudden after the wedding, and
eeing him draw his pistols tht night before, took
this opportunity to go into his chamber and charge
tliem. Upon tlieir return from the garden, they went
into that room -, and, after a little fond raillery on
the subject of their courtship, the lover took up a
pistol, which he knew he had unloaded the night be-
fore, and, presenting it to her, said, with the most
graceful air^ whilst she looked pleased at his agreea-
ble flattery ; " Now, Madam, repent of all those
cruelties you have been guilty of to me ^ consider.
N^ 82. TATLERr 3 If
before you die, how often you have made a poor
wretch freeze under your casement; you shall die,
you tyrant, you shall die, with all tliose instruments
of dt atli and destruction about you, with tliat in-
chanting smile, those killing ringlets of your hair" ~
" Give fire!" said she, laughing. He did so; and
shot her dead. Who can speak his condition ? but
he bore it so patiently as to call up his man. The
poor wretch entered, and his master locked the door
upon him. " Will," said he, " did you charge these
pistols?" He answered, "Yes." Upon which, he
shot him dead with that remaining. After tliis,
amidst a thousand broken sobs, piercing groans, and
distracted motions, he writ the following letter to
tlie father of his dead mistress.
"Sir,
" I, who two hours ago told you truly I was the
happiest man alive, am now the most miserable.
Your daughter lies dead at my feet, killed by my
hand, through a mistake of my man's charging my
pistols unknown to me. Him have I murdered for
it. Such is my wedding day. 1 will immediately
follow my wife to her grave : but, before I throw
myself upon my sword, I command my distraction
so far as to explain my story to you. I fear my heart
will not keep together until I have stabbed it. Poor,
good old man ! Remember, he that killed your
daugiiter died for it. In the article of death, I give
you my thanks, and prsjy for you, though I dnre not
for juyself. If it be possible, do not curst nic."
vol.. II. ZB
314 TATLER. N* 83.
N 83. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1709.
Stmlit ttuffitia, qua lie/iratio affellarl toltt, umtm leviurn at, mn
tmnium. M, T. Cic.
That which is usually called dotage is not the foible of all old
men, but only of such as are remarkable fur tlieir levity aud
iDconstancy.
From my own Apartment, Octoler 19.
It is my frequent practit^e to visit places of resort
in this town where I am least known, to obser\e
what reception my works meet with in the world,
and what good effects I may promise myself from
my labours : and it being a privilege asserted by
Monsieur Montaigne, and others, of vain-glorious
memorj', that we writers of essays may talk of our'
selves ; I take the liberty to give an account of the
remarks which I find are made by some of ray gentle
readers upon these my dissertations.
I happened this evening to fall into a coffee-house
near the Exchange, where two persons were reading
ray account of the "Table of Fame,"
The one of these was commenting as he read, and
explaining who u' v meant by this and the other
worthy as he passed on. I observed the person over*
against him wonderfiilly intent and satisfied with liis
explanation. When he came to Julius Caesar, who
is said to have refused any conductor to the Table ;
*' No, no," said he, " he is in the right of it, he
has money enough to be welcome wherever lie
comes j" and tlien whispered, he means a certain
colonel of the Trainbands." Upon reading tliat
Kf 83. tATLER, 815
Aristotle made his claim with some rudeness, but
great strength of reason j " Who can that be, so
rough and so reasonable? It niuKt be some Vv lilg,
I warrant you. There is nothing but party in tlitse
public papers." Wlxere Pytliai.',oi-as is said to have
a golden thigh, " Ay, ay," said he, " he has money
enough in his breeches; that is the alderman of our
ward," you must know. Whatever he read, 1 found
he interpreted from his own way of life and acquain-
tance. I am glad my readers can construe for them-
selves tliese ditficult points; but, for the benefit of
posterity, I design, when I come to write my last
paper of this kind, to make it an explanation of all
my former. In that piece, you shall have all I have
commended, with their proper names. The faulty
chiiracters must be left as they arc, because we live
in an age wherein vice is very g<. neral, and virtue
very particular ; for which reason the latter only
wants explanation.
But I mu.-,t turn my present discourse to what is
of yet greater regard to me than the care of my
writings ; that is to say, the preservation of a lady's
heart. Little did I think i should ever have business
of tliis kind on my hands more ; but, as little as any
one who knows me would believe it, there is a lady
at this time who professes love to me. Her passion
and good humour you shall have in her u\^n words.
"Mr. BiCKERSTAFF,
*' I had formerly a very good opinion of myself;
but it is now withdrawn, and 1 have placed it upon
you, Mr. Bickerstaff, for whom 1 ;ini not ashamed
to declare 1 have a very great passion :ind tenderness.
It is not for your face, for that I nevL-r saw; your
shape and heiglu I am e([ually a strar.;';'r to; but
your understanding charms me, and 1 am lost if you
do not dissemble a little love for me. 1 am not
K K 2
316 TATLER. N" 85.
without hopes ; because I am not like the tawdry
gay things that are tit only to make bone-hice. I
am neither childish-young, nor beldam-old, but,
the world says, a good agreeable woman.
" Speak peace to a troubled heart, troubled only
for you ; and in your next paper let me find your
thoughts of me.
' Do not think of finding out who I am, for,
notwithstanding your interest in daemons, they can-
not help yon either to my name, or a sight of my
(:\ce ; therefore, do not let diem deceive you.
" I can bear no discourse, if you are not the sub-
jeft ; and believe me, I know more of love than
you do of astronomy.
" Fray, say some civil things in return to my ge-
nerosity, and you shall have my very best pen em-
ployed to thank you, and I will confirm it.
I am your admirer,
Maria."
There Is something wonderfully pleasing in the
favour of women j and this letter has put me in so
good a humour, that nothing could displease me
since I received it. My boy breaks glasses and
pipes ; and instead of giving him a knock on the
pate, as my way is, for I hate scolding at servants,
I only say, " Ah, Jack ! thou hast a head, and so
has a phi," or some such meiry expression. But,
alas ! how am I mortified when he is putting on ray
fourtli pair of stockings on these poor spindles of
mine ! . " The fair one understands love better than
I astronomy!" I am sure, without the help of that
art, this poor meagre trunk of mine is a very ill ha-
bitation for love. She is pleased to speak civilly of
my sense, but Ingeniuvi male halitat is an invinci-
ble difficulty in cases of this nature. 1 had always,
indeed, from a passion to please the eyes of the fair.
N" 83. TATLER. 511
a great pleasure in dress. Add to this, that I have
writ songs since I was sixty, and have lived witli
all the circumspection of an old beau, as I ara.
But my friend Horace has very well said, " Every
year takes something from us ;" and instructed me
to form my pursuits and desires according to the
stage of my life : therefore, I have no more to value
myself upon, than that I can converse with young
people without peevishness, or wishing myself a
moment younger. For which reason, when I am
amongst them, I rather moderate than interrupt
their diversions. But though 1 have tliis compla-
cency, I must not pretend to write to a lady civil
things, as Maria desires. Time was, when I could
have told her, " I had received a letter from her
fair hands ; and, that if this paper trembled as she
read it, it then best expressed its author," or some
other gay conceit. Though I never saw her, I
could have told her, " that good sense and good
humour , smiled in her eyes : that constancy and
good-nature dwelt in her heart: that beauty and
good breeding appeared in all her actions." When
I was five-and-tvventy, upon sight of one syllable,
even wrong spelt, by a lady I never saw, 1 could
tell her, " that her height was that which was fit
For inviting our approach, and commanding our re-
spect ; that a smile sat on her lips, which prefaced
Iicr expressions before she uttered them, and her as-
pect prevented her speech. All she could say,
though she had an infinite deal of wit, was bixt a
re|)ctition of what was expressed by her formj her
form ! which struck her beholders with ideas more
moving and forcible than ever were inspired by
nuisic, painting, or eloquence." \t this rafe I
panted in tliose days; but, all ! sixty -three ! lam
very sorry I can only return the agreeable Maria a
passion expressed rather from the head tlian tlie heart.
E E .3
318 TATLER. N- 83.
" Dear Madam,
' You have already seen the best of me, and I so
passionately love you, that I desire we may never
meet. If you will examine your heart, you will find
that you join the man with tlie philosoi^icr : and if
you have that kind opinion of my sense as you pre-
tend, I question not but you add to it complexion,
air, and shape : but, dear Molly, a man in his
grand climacteric is of no sex. Be a good girl ; and
conduct yourself with honour and virtue, when you
love one younger tlian myself. I am, with the
greatest tenderness, your innocent lover, I. B."
IFiirs Coffee-house, Ocloler ig.
There is nothing more common than the weak-
ness mentioned in the following epistle j and I be-
lieve there is hardly a man living who has not been
more or less injured by it.
"Sir, Land's End, Ocloler 1 2,
" I have left the town some time ; and much
the sooner, for not having had the advantage, when
I lived there, of so good a pilot as you are to this
present age. Your cautions to the young men
against the \ ices of the town are very well: but
there is one not less needful, which I think you
have omitted I had from the Rough Diamond (a
gentleman so called from an honest blunt wit he
had) not long since dead, this observation, that a
young man must be at least three or four years in
London before he dares say NO.
" You will easily see the truth and force of this
observation ; for I believe more people are drawn
away against their inclinations, than with them.
A young man is afraid to deny any body going to a
tavern to dinner ; or, after being gorged there, to
repeat the same with another company at supper, or
to drink excessively, if desired, or go to any other
N" 84, TATLER. 319
place, or commit any other extravagancy proposed.
The fear of being thought covetous, to have no mo-
ney, or to be under the dominion or fear of his
parents and friends, hinder him from the free exer-
cise of his understanding, and affirming boldly the
true reason, which is, his real dislike of what is
desired. If you could cure this slavish facility, it
would save abundance at tlieir first entrance into
the world. I am, Sir, yours,
Solomon Afterwit."
This epistle has given an occasion to a treatise on
this subject, wherein I shall lay down rules when
a young stripling is to say NO ; and a young
virgin YES.
N. B. For the publication of this discourse, T
wait only for subscriptions from the under graduates
of each university, and the young ladies in tlic
boarding-schools of Hackney and Chelsea.
St. James's Coffee-house, October 19.
Letters from the Hague, of the twenty-fifth of
October, N. S. advise, that the g;irrison of Mona
marched out on the twenty-third instant, and a gar-
rison of the allies marched into the town. All the
forces in the field, both of the enemy and the con-
federates, are preparing to witlidraw into winter-
quarters.
N=84. SATURDAY, OCTOBER22, 1709.
From my own Apartment, Octoler 21.
I HAVE received a letter subscribed A. B. wherein
it has been represented to me as an enormity, that
there are more than ordinary crowds of women at
320 TATLER. No 84.
the Old Bailey when a rape is to be tried. But by
^Ir. A. B.'s favour, I cannot tell who are so much
concerned in that part of the law as the sex he
mentions, they being the only persons liable to such
insults. Nor, indeed, do I think it more unrea-
sonable that they should be inquisitive on such oc-
casions than men of honour, when one is tried for
killing another in a duel. It is very natural to in-
quire how the fatal pass was made, that we may the
better defend ourselves when we come to be at-
tacked. Several eminent ladies appeared lately at
the court of justice on such an occasion, and with
great patience and attention staid the whole trials of
two persons for the abovesaid crime. The law to
me indeed seems a little defective in this point j
and it is a very great hardship, tliat this crime,
which is committed by men only, should have men
only on their jury. I humbly therefore propose,
that on fiiture trials of this sort, half of the twelve
may be women ; and those such whose faces are
well known to have taken notes, or may be supposed
to remember what happened in former trials in the
same place. There is the learned Androgyne, that
would make a good fore- woman of the pannel, who,
by long attendance, understands as much law and
anatomy as is necessary in this case. Until this is
taken care of, I am humbly of opinion, it would be
much more expedient that the fair were wholly ab-
sent ; for to what end can it be that they should be
present at such examinations, when they can only
be perplexed with a fellow-feeling for the injured,
without any power to avenge their sufferings ? It is
an unnecessar)' pain which the fair ones give them-
selves on these occasions. I have known a young
woman shriek out at some parts of the evidence ;
and have frequently observed, that when the proof
grew particular and strong, there has been such ao
ir 84. TATLER. 321
universal flutter of fans, that one would think the
vhole female audience were falling into fits. Nor,
indeed, can I see how men tliemselves can be
wholly unmoved at such tragical relations.
In short, I must tell my female readers, and they
may take an old man's word for it, that there is no-
thing in woman so graceful and becoming as mo-
desty. It adds charms lo their beauty, and gives a
new softness to their sex. Without it, simplicity
and innocence appear rude ; reading and good sense,
masculine ; wit and humour, lascivious. This is so
necessary a qualification for pleasing, that the loose
part of womankind, whose study it is to ensnare
men's hearts, never fail to support the appearance
of what tliey know is so essential to that end ; and I
liave heard it reported by the young fellows in my
time as a maxim of the celebrated Madam Bennet*,
that a young wench, though never so beautiful, was
not worth her board when she was past her blush-
ing. This discourse naturally brings into my
thoughts a letter I have received from the virtuous
lady VVhittlestick, on the subject of Lucretia.
" From wy tea-table, Oct. 17.
" Cousin Isaac,
" I read your Tatler of Saturday last, and was
surprised to see you so partial to your own sex, as
to think none of ours worthy to sit at your first
table ; for sure you cannot but own Lucretia as fa-
nious as any you have placed there, who first parted
with her virtue, and afterwards with her life, to
preserve her fame."
Mrs. Biddy Twig has tvritten- vie a letter to the
same purpose j but in answer to both my pretty
correspondents and kinswomen, I must tell them,
* A notorious bawJ in the reign of K. Charles 11, called
Mistrett, and Miutamf and Methtr Bcnnct.
322 TATLER. N' 84.
that although I know Lucretia would have made a
very graceful figure at the upper end of the table, I
did not think it proper to place her there, because I
knew she would not care for being in the company
of so many men witliout her husband. At the same
time, I must own, that Tarquin himself was not a
greater lover and admirer of I.ucretia than I my-
self am in an honest way. When my sister Jenny
was in her sampler, I made her get the whole story
without book, and tell it me in needle-work. This
illustrious lady stands up in history as the glory of
her own sex, and the reproach of ours j and the
circumstances under which she fell were so very
particular, that they seem to make adultery and
murder meritorious. She was a woman of such
transcendant virtue, that her beauty, which was
the greatest of tlie age and country in which she
lived, and is generally celebrated as the highest of
praise in other women, is never mentioned as a part
of her character. But it would be declaiming to
dw ell upon so celebrated a story, which I mentioned
only in rt- ^pect to my kinswomen ; and to make re-
paration tor the omission they complain of, do fur-
thtr promise them, that if they can furnish me with
instances to fill it, there shall be a small tea-table
set a -part in my Palace of Fame for the reception of
all of her character.
Grecian Coffeehouse, Octoler 21.
I was this evening communicating my design of
producing obscure merit into public view ; and pro-
posed to the learned, that they would please to assist
me in the work. For the same end I publish my
intention to the world,, that all men of liberal
thoughts may know they have an opportunity of
doing justice to such worthy persons as have come
within their respective observation, and who by
misfortune, modesty, or want of proper writers to
recommend tliem^ have escaped the notice of tli3
N 84. TATLER. 323
rest of mankind. If, therefore, any one can bring
any tale or tidings of illustrious persons, or glorious
actions, that are not commonly known, he is de-
sired to send an account thereof to me, at J. Mor-
phew's, and they shall have justice done them. At
the same time that I have this concern for men and
things that deserve reputation and have it not, I am
resolved to examine into the claims of such antients
and moderns as are in possession of it, with a design
to displace them, in case I find their titles de-
fective. The first whose merits I shall inquire into,
are some merry gentlemen of the French nation,
who have written very advantageous histories of
their exploits in war, love, and politics, under tlie
title of Memoirs. I am afraid I shall find several of
these gentlemen tardy, because I hear of them in
no writings but tlieir own. To read the narrative of
one of these authors, you would fancy tliat there
was not an action in a whole campaign which he
did not contrive or execute ; yet, if you consult the
history or gazettes of those times, you do not find
him so much as at the head of a party from one end
of the summer to the other. But it is the way of
these great men, when they lie behind their lines,
and are in a time of inaction, as they call it, to pass
away tlieir time in writing their exploits. By this
means, several who are eitiier unknown or despised
in the present age, will be famous in the next, un-
less a sudden stop be put to such pernicious practices.
There are others of that gay people, who, as I am
informed, will live half a year together in a garret,
and write an history of their intrigues in the court
of France. As for poliiicians, they do not abound
with that species of men so nuch as we; but as
ours arc not so famous for writing, as for extempo-
rary dissertations in colfee-houses, they are more
iinnoyed with memoirs of this nature also than we are.
ll.e niostimmediate remedy thati can apply to pre vent
324 TATLER. N' 84.
this growing evil, is. That I do hereby give notice to
all booksellers and translators whatsoever, that the
word Memoir is French for a novel ; and to require
of Uicna that they sell and translate it accordingly.
JVilts Coffee-lcouse, October -xi.
Coining into this place to-night, I njet an old
friend of mine, who a httle after tlie restoration writ
an epigram with some applause, which he has lived
npon ever since ; and by virtue of it, has been a
constant frequenter of this coffee-house for forty
years. He took me aside, and with a great deal of
friendship told me he was glad to see nier alive,
" for," says he, " Mr. Bickerstaff, I am sorry to
find you have raised many enemies by your 1-ucu-
brations. There are indeed some," says he, " whose
enmity is the greatest honour they can show a man ;
but have you lived to these years, and do not know
that the ready way to disoblige is to give advice ?
you may endeavour to guard your children, as you
call them ; but " He was going on ; but I
found the disagreeableness of giving advice without
being asked, by my own impatience of what he was
about to say : in a word, I begged him to give mc
the hearing of a short fable. *
" A gentleman," says I, " who was one day
slumbering in an arbour, was on a sudden awakened
by the gentle biting of a lizard, a little animal re-
markable for its love to mankind. He threw it
from his hand with some indignation, and was ri-
sing up to kill it, when he saw a huge venomous
serpent sliding towards him on the other side, which
lie soon destroyed} reflecting afterwards with grati-
tude upon his friend that saved him, and with anger
against himself, that had shewn so little sense of a
good office."
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
NICHOLS and SON. Prinuri,
Red Uea iVffiige, FieetSueet.
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