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. 
 
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 CI.AKKF.ANI) SON, G. KEAKSLLY, 0. I.\W, J. WllIlL, U)Vt..MA\ ANU 1 fc!i^ 
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 A\D CO. CARl'l.NIEK AND CO. W. MILLER, MURRAY AND lilGIILr.Y, 4. 
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 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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