^lOS-AVC
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THE
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HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL,
BY
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VOL. V.
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v.5-
T A T L E R.
N 210 271.
CONTENTS,
VOL. v.
No. T7 -
210. V ISIT to a Censorious Lady of Quality
Letter from an old Maid Continental
Intelligence STEBLE
21 1. Uses of Sunday On Devotion
212. On Simplicity of Ornament Letters on an
Ass in the Lion's Skin From a Vir-
gin, &c
313. On Dissimulation and Simulation Tom
Trueman, a Hero in Domestic Life
214. On the Rigid and the Supple Account of
a Political Barometer
215. Account of a Flatterer. And a common
Jester Case of a Widow Petition of
the Linen Drapers
216. Taste of the Virtuosi Legacy of a Virtuoso
Death of Mr. Partridge ADDISOW
21?. On Scolds The Author's Notice that he
means to he much wittier STEELE
218. On the Names given by Gardeners to
Flowers A Visit to a Garden ADDISON
21Q. Impertinence of professed Wits Character
of Tom Mercer Letters and Peti-
tions STEELE
VOL. V. A3
VI CONTENTS.
No.
220. Account of the Church thermometer ADDISON
221. Letter from the Virtuoso's Widow From
a Scold Cure for Scolding
222. Riots at Nottingham Midnight Frolics
Serenades improper for this Country. . . STEELE
223. Evils of Jointures and Settlements Orders
concerning them
224. On Advertisements Quackeries Washes,
&c ADDISON
225. On improper Familiarities STEELE
226. Life of Margery, alias John Young, com-
monly called Dr. Young STEELE
227. Case of an envious Man
228. Letters from High Church On Almanack
Weather From a Writer of Adver-
tisements
22Q. Remarks on the Author's Enemies Fable
of the Owls, Bats, and the Sun ADDISON
230. Improprieties of Phrase Affectation of Po-
liteness Vulgarisms SWIFT
231. The Taming of the Shrew Present of
Wine STEELE
232. Letter from the Upholsterer Rage for Po-
litics - .
233. History of Joseph and his Brethren
234. Letters on Education : GREENWOOD De-
votion STEELE
235. On Parental Partiality .' . . .
236. Account of the Migration of frogs into
Ireland .
237. Effects of the touch of Ithuriel's Spear, a
Dream , (probably) ADDISON
CONTENTS. vii
No.
238. Description of a City-shower : SWIFT
Prose part of the Paper STEKLE
239. Remarks on the Author's Enemies The
Examiner ADDISON
240. On the Science of Physic Quacks of the
Time . . . , _____
241. On Drinking Improper Behaviour at
Church On By-words Fee at St.
Paul's STEELE
242. On Raillery and Satire Horace and Ju-
venal
243. Adventures of the Author when Invisible.. ADDISOKT
244. On Eloquence. Talents for Conversation
Pedantry STEELE
245. Advertisement of Lady Fardingale's stolen
Goods Letter from a Black Boy
246. On a Censorious Disposition Letters to
Defaulters Characters of Plumbeus
and Levis
247- Letter from Almeira, an Edinburgh young
Lady And Answer by Mrs. Jenny
Distaff
248. On the Improvement of Beauty by Exercise
Lazy Ladies Very busy ones
24p. Adventures of a Shilling ADD i SON
250. Institution of a Court of Honour
251. On Virtuous Independence Where true
Happiness is to be found STEELE
252. Defence of Sober Drinking Letter from
Ralph and Bridget Yokefellow STEELE
253. Journal of the Court of Ho-
nour.... , . ADDISON and STHKLK
Vlll CONTENTS.
No.
254. Sir John Mandeville's account
of the Freezing and Thaw-
ing of several Speeches . . . .ADDISON and STBELE
255. Letter from a Chaplain Thoughts on the
Treatment of Chaplains ADDISON
256. Proceedings of the Court of
Honour ADDISON and STEELE
257- Wax-work Representation of
the Religions of Great
Britain
258. Letter on the Use of the Phrase North
Briton: SWIFT, PRIOR, ROWE On
" a Person of Quality'' -A Lady in-
vested by several Lovers From a Chap-
lain Taliacotius Bachelors STEELE
25Q. Journal of the Court of Ho-
nour ADDISON and STEELE
260. Essay on Noses -Skill of Ta-
liacotius '
261. Plan for the Encouragement of Wedlock
Instance of Public Spirit Celami-
co's Will STEELE
262. Journal of the Court of Ho-
nour ADDISON and STEELE
263. On the different Hours kept in Modern
Times College Hours Early Hours STEELE
364. On tedious Talkers and Story-tellers ___ .
265. Journal of the Court of Ho-
nour ADDISON and STEELE
266. Fantastic Passion of two old Ladies Sam
Trusty's Visit to them STEELE
CONTENTS. IX
No.
267. On appointed Seasons for Devotion Lord
Bacon's Prayer ADDISON
268. Petition on Coffee-house Orators and News-
readers, with the Author's Remarks.. STEELE
269. Letters on Love and Friendship Plagius
preaching Tillotson's Sermons
270. Letter on the Dress of Tradesmen Pe-
tition of Ralph Nab, the Hatter Of
Elizabeth Slender, Spinster Letter to
Mr. Ralph Incense, Chaplain .
271. Conclusion, Design of the Work, and
Acknowledgment of Assistance
THE
TATLER.
N210. SATURDAY, AUGUST 12, 1710.
Sheer-lane, August 10.
1 DID myself the honour this day to make a visit to
a lady of quality, who is one of those that are ever
railing at the vices of the age ; but mean only one
vice, because it is the only vice they are not guilty
of. She went so far as to fall foul on a young wo-
man who has had imputations ; but whether they
were just or not, no one knows but herself. How-
ever that is, she is in her present behaviour modest,
humble, pious, and discreet. I thought it became
me to bring this censorious lady to reason, and let
her see she was a much more vicious woman than the
person she spoke of.
" Madam," said I, " you are very severe to this
poor young woman, for a trespass which I believe
Heaven has forgiven her, and for which, you see,
she is for ever out of countenance." " Nay, Mr.
Bickerstaff," she interrupted, " if you at this time
of day contradict people of virtue, and stand up for
ill women" " No, no, Madam," said I, " not
o fast ; she is reclaimed, and I fear you never will
VOL. v. B
$ TATLER. X 210.
be. Nay, nay, Madam, do not be in a passion ;
but let me tell you what you are. You are indeed
as good as your neighbours ; but that is being very
bad. You are a woman at the head of a family,
and lead a perfect town-lady's life. You go on
your own way, and consult nothing but your glass.
What imperfections indeed you see there, you im-
mediately mend as fast as you can. You may do the
same by the faults I tell you of; for they are much
more in your power to correct.
" You are to know then, that your visiting ladies,
that carry your virtue from house to house with so
much prattle in each other's applause, and triumph
over other people's faults, I grant you, have but the
speculation of vice in your own conversations ; but
promote the practice of it in all others you "have to
do with.
" As for you, madam, your time passes away in
dressing, eating, sleeping, and praying. When
you rise in a morning, I grant you an hour spent
very well ; but you come out to dress in so froward
an humour, that the poor girl, who attends you,
curses her very being in that she is your servant,
for the peevish things you say to her. When this
poor creature is put into a way, that good or evil
are regarded but as they relieve her from the hours
she has and must pass with you ; the next you have
to do with is your coachman and footmen. They
convey your ladyship to church. While you are
praying there, they are cursing, swearing, and
'drinking in an ale-house. During the ujne also
which your ladyship sets apart for Heaven, you are
to know, that your cook is sweating and fretting in
preparation for your dinner. Soon after your meal
you make visits, and the whole world that belongs
to you speaks all the ill of you which you are
repeating of others. You see, Madam, whatever
NO 1 10. TATLEH.
way you go, all about you are in a very broad one.
The morality of these people it is your proper busi-
ness to inquire into ; and until you reform them you
had best let your equals alone ; otherwise, if I allow
you are not vitious, you must allow me you are not
virtuous."
I took my leave, and received at my coming home
the following letter :
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" I have lived a pure and undefiled virgin these
twenty-seven years ; and I assure you, it is with great
grief and sorrow of heart I tell you, that I become
weary and impatient of the derision of the gigglers
of our sex ; who call me old maid, and tell me, I
shall lead apes. If you are truly a patron of the dis-
tressed, and an adept in astrology, you will advise
whether I shall, or ought to be prevailed upon by
the impertinences of my own sex, to give way to the
importunities of yours. I assure you, I am sur-
rounded with both, though at present a forlorn.
I am, &c."
I must defer my answer to this lady out of a point
of chronology. She says, she has been twenty-seven
years a maid ; but I fear, according to a common
error, she dates her virginity from her birth, which
is a very erroneous method ; for a woman of twenty
is no more to be thought chaste so many years
than a man of that age can be said to have been so
long valiant. We must not allow people the favour
of a virtue, until they have been under the tempta-
tion to the contrary. A woman is not a maid until
her birth-day, as we call it, of her fifteenth year.
My plaintiff is therefore desired to inform me, whe-
ther she is at present in her twenty-eighth or forty-
third year, and she shall be dispatched accordingly.
TATLER. NO <21O.
St. James's Coffee-house, August 11.
A merchant came hither this morning, and read a
letter from a correspondent of his at Milan. It was
dated the 7th instant, N. S. The following is an
abstract of it. On the 25th of the last month, five
thousand men were on their march in the Lam-
pourdan, under the command of general Wesell,
having received orders from his Catholic majesty to
join him in his camp with all possible expedition.
The duke of Anjou soon had intelligence of their
motion, and took a resolution to decamp in order
to intercept them, within a day's march of our
army. The king of Spain was apprehensive the
enemy might make such a movement, and com-
manded general Stanhope with a body of horse,
consisting of fourteen squadrons, to observe their
course and prevent their passage over the rivers
Segra and Noguera, between Lerida and Balaguer.
It happened to be the first day that officer had ap-
peared abroad after a dangerous and violent fever ;
but he received the king's commands on this oc-
casion with a joy which surmounted his present
weakness, and on the 27th of last month came
up with the enemy on the plains of Balaguer. The
duke of Anjou's rear-guard consisting of twenty-
six squadrons, that general sent intelligence of their
posture to the king, and desired his majesty's or-
ders to attack them. During the time which he
waited for his instructions, he made his disposition
for the charge, which was to divide themselves into
three bodies ; one to be commanded by himself in
the centre, a body on the right by count Maurice of
Nassau, and the third on the left by the earl of
Rochford. Upon the receipt of his majesty's di-
rection to attack the enemy, the general himself
charged with the utmost vigour and resolution,
!?o 210. TATLER. 5
while the earl of Rochford and count Maurice ex-
tended themselves on his right and left, to prevent
the advantage the enemy might make of the supe-
riority of their numbers. What appears to have
misled the enemy's general in this affair was, that it
was not supposed practicable that the confederates
would attack him till they had received a reinforce-
ment. For this reason he pursued his march with-
out facing about, till we were actually coming on to
engagement. General Stanhope's disposition made
it impracticable to do it at that time ; count Mau-
rice and the earl of Rochford attacking them in the
instant in which they were forming themselves.
The charge was made with the greatest gallantry,
and the enemy very soon put into so great disorder,
that their whole cavalry were commanded to sup-
port their rear-guard. Upon the. advance of this
reinforcement, all the horse of the king of Spain
were come up to sustain general Stanhope, inso-
much that the battle improved to a general en-
gagement of the cavalry of both armies. After a
warm dispute for some time, it ended in the utter
defeat of all the duke of Anjou's horse. Upon the
dispatch of these advices, that prince was retiring
towards Lerida. We have no account of any con-
siderable loss on our side, except that both those
heroic youths, the earl of Rochford and count
Nassau, fell in this action. They were, you know,
both sons of persons who had a great place in the
confidence of your late king William ; and I doubt
not but their deaths will endear their families,
which were ennobled by him, in your nation. Ge-
neral Stanhope has been reported by the enemy
dead of his wounds ; but he received only a slight
contusion on the shoulder.
P. S. We acknowledge you here a mighty brave
people ; but you are said to love quarrelling so well,
B2
6 TATLER. NO 211.
that you cannot be quiet at home. The favourers
of the house of Bourbon among us affirm, that this
Stanhope, who could as it were get out of his sick-
bed to fight against their king of Spain, must be of
the antimonarehical party.
N211- TUESDAY, AUGUST 15, 1710.
ftequeo monstrare, et sentio tantum.
Jov. Sat. vii. 56.
What I can fancy, but can ne'er express.
DRYDEN.
Sunday, August 13.
IF there were no other consequences of it, but
barely that human creatures on this day assemble
themselves before their Creator, without regard to
their usual employments, their minds at leisure
from the cares of their life, and their bodies adorned
with the best attire they can bestow on them ; I
say, were this mere outward celebration of a Sab-
bath all that is expected from men, even that were
a laudable distinction, and a purpose worthy the
human nature. But when there is added to it the
sublime pleasure of devotion, our being is exalted
above itself; and he, who spends a seventh day in
the contemplation of the next life, will not easily
fall into the corruptions of this in the other six.
They, who never admit thoughts of this kind into
their imaginations, lose higher and sweeter satis-
NO 2 11. TATJLER. 7
factions than can be raised by any other entertain-
ment. The most illiterate man who is touched
with devotion, and uses frequent exercises of it,
contracts a certain greatness of mind, mingled with
a noble simplicity, that raises him above those of
the same condition ; and there is an indelible mark
of goodness in those who sincerely possess it. It is
hardly possible it should be otherwise ; for the fer-
vours of a pious mind will naturally contract such an
earnestness and attention towards a better being, as
will make the ordinary passages of life go off with a
becoming indifference. By this a man in the lowest
condition will not appear mean, or in the most
splendid fortune insolent.
As to all the intricacies and vicissitudes, under
which men are ordinarily entangled with the ut-
most sorrow and passion, one who is devoted to
Heaven, when he falls into such difficulties, is led
by a clue through a labyrinth. As to this world,
he does not pretend to skill in the mazes of it ; but
fixes his thoughts upon one certainty, that he shall
soon be out of it. And we may ask very boldly,
what can be a more sure consolation than to have
an hope in death ? When men are arrived at think-
ing of their very dissolution with pleasure, how few
things are there that can be terrible to them ! Cer-
tainly, nothing can be dreadful to such spirits, but
what would make death terrible to them, falsehood
towards man, or impiety towards Heaven. To
such as these, as there are certainly many such,
the gratifications of innocent pleasures are doubled,
even with reflections upon their imperfection. The
disappointments, which naturally attend the great
promises we make ourselves in expected, enjoy-
ments, strike no damp upon such men, but only
quicken their hopes of soon knowing joys, which
are too pure to admit of allay or satiety.
S TATLER. NO 2 11.
It is thought, among the politer sort of man-
kind, an imperfection to want a relish of any of
those things which refine our lives. This is the
foundation of the acceptance which eloquence,
music, and poetry, make in the world ; and I know
not why devotion, considered merely as an exal-
tation of our happiness, should not at least be so far
regarded as to be considered. It is possible, the
very inquiry would lead men into such thoughts
and gratifications, as they did not expect to meet
with in this place. Many a good acquaintance has
been lost from a general prepossession in his dis-
favour, and a severe aspect has often hid under it a
very agreeable companion.
There are no distinguishing qualities among men
to which there are not false pretenders ; but though
none is more pretended to than that of devotion,
there are, perhaps, fewer successful impostors in
this kind than any other. There is something so
natively great and good in a person that is truly
devout, that an aukward man may as well pretend
to be genteel, as an hypocrite to be pious. The
constraint in words and actions are equally visible
in both cases ; and any thing set up in their room
does but remove the endeavours farther off from
their pretensions. But, however the sense of true
piety is abated, there is no other motive of action
that can carry us through all the vicissitudes of life
with alacrity and resolution. But piety, like philo-
sophy, when it is superficial, does but make men
appear the worse for it ; and a principle that is but
half received does but distract, instead of guiding
our behaviour. When I reflect upon the unequal
conduct of Lotius, I see many things that run di-
rectly cdunter to his interest ; therefore I cannot at-
tribute his labours for the public good to ambition.
When I consider his disregard to his fortune, I can-
NO 2 11. TATLER. 9
not esteem him covetous. How then can T recon-
cile his neglect of himself, and his zeal for others ?
I have long suspected him to be a " little pious ;"
but no man ever hid his vice with greater caution,
than he does his virtue. It was the praise of a great
Roman, " that he had rather be, than appear,
food." But such is the weakness of Lotius, that
dare ' say he had rather be esteemed irreligious
than devout. By I know not what impatience of
raillery, he is wonderfully fearful of being thought
too great a believer. A hundred little devices are
made use of to hide a time of private devotion ;
and he will allow you any suspicion of his being ill
employed, so you do not tax him with being well.
But alas! how mean is such a behaviour! To
boast of virtue, is a most ridiculous way of disap-
pointing the merit of it, but not so pitiful as that of
being ashamed of it. How unhappy is the wretch,
who makes the most absolute and independent mo-
tive of action the cause of perplexity and incon-
stancy ! How different a figure does Caelicolo make
with all who know him ! His great and superior
mind, frequently exalted by the raptures of hea-
venly meditation, is to all his friends of the same
use, as if an angel were to appear at the decision of
their disputes. They Very well understand, he is
as much disinterested and unbiassed as such a being.
He considers all applications made to him, as those
addresses will affect his own application to Heaven.
All his determinations are delivered with a beautiful
humility ; and he pronounces his decisions with the
air of one who is more frequently a supplicant than
a judge.
Thus humble, and thus great, is the man who is
moved by piety, and exalted by devotion. But be-
hold this recommended by the masterly hand of a
great divine I have heretofore made bold with.
JO TATLER.
" It is such a pleasure as can never cloy or over-
work the mind ; a delight that grows and improves
under thought and reflection ; and while it ex-
ercises, does also endear itself to the mind. All
pleasures that affect the body must needs weary,
because they transport ; and all transportation is a
violence ; and no violence can be lasting ; but de-
termines upon the falling of the spirits, which are
not able to keep up that height of motion that the
pleasure of the senses raises them to. And there-
fore how inevitably does an immoderate laughter
end in a sigh, which is only nature's recovering it-
self after a force done to it ! but the religious plea-
sure of a well-disposed mind moves gently, and
therefore constantly. It does not affect by rapture
and extacy, but is like the pleasure of health,
greater and stronger than those that call up the
senses with grosser and more affecting impressions.
No man's body is as strong as his appetites ; but
Heaven has corrected the boundlessness of his vo-
luptuous desires by stinting his strength, and con-
tracting his capacities. The pleasure of the reli-
gious man is an easy and a portable pleasure, such
an one as he carries about in his bosom, without
alarming either the eye or the envy of the world.
A man putting all his pleasures into this one, is like
a traveller putting all his goods into one jewel ; the
value is the same, and the convenience greater."*
nv>> rw '. ' 1*1 :
* Dr. South.
TATLER. 11
N 212. THURSDAY, AUGUST 17, 1710.
From my own Apartment, August 16.
I HAVE had much importunity to answer the fol-
lowing letter.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" Reading over a volume of yours, I find the
words Simplex Munditiis mentioned as a descrip-
tion of a very well-dressed woman. I beg of you,
for the sake of the sex, to explain these terms. I
cannot comprehend what my brother means, when
he tells me, they signify my own name, which
is, Sir,
Your humble servant,
PLAIN ENGLISH."
I think the lady's brother has given us a very good
idea of that elegant expression; it being the greatest
beauty of speech to be close and intelligible. To
this end, nothing is to be more carefully consulted
than plainness. In a lady's attire this is the single
excellence ; for to be, what some people call, fine,
is the same vice in that case, as to be florid, is in
writing or speaking. I have studied and writ on
this important subject, until I almost despair of
making reformation in the females of this island ;
where we have more beauty than in any spot in the
universe, if we did not disguise it by false gar-
niture, and detract from it by impertinent im-
provements. I have by me a treatise concerning
pinners, which, I have some hopes, will contribute
12 T^WLER. NO 212.
to the amendment of the present head-dresses, to
which I have solid and unanswerable objections.
But most of the errors in that, and other particulars
of adorning the head, are crept into the world from
the ignorance of the modern tirewomen ; for it is come
to that pass, that an aukward creature in the first
year of her apprenticeship, that can hardly stick a
pin, shall take upon her to dress a woman of the
first quality. However, it is certain, that there
requires in a good tirewoman a perfect skill in
optics ; for all the force of ornament is to contri-
bute to the intention of the eyes. Thus she, who
has a mind to look killing, must arm her face ac-
cordingly, and not leave her eyes and cheeks un-
dressed. There is Araminta, who is so sensible of
this, that she never will see even her own husband
without a hood on. Can any one living bear to see
Miss Gruel, lean as she is, with her hair tied back
after the modern way ? But such is the folly of our
ladies, that because one who is a beauty, out of os-
tentation of her being such, takes care to wear
something that she knows cannot be of any conse-
quence to her complexion ; I say, our women run
on so heedlessly in the fashion, that though it is the
interest of some to hide as much of their faces as
possible, yet because a leading Toast appeared with
a backward head-dress, the rest shall follow the
mode, without observing that the author of the
fashion assumed it because it could become no one
but herself.
Flavia * is ever well-dressed, and always the gen-
teelest woman you meet : but the make of her
mind very much contributes to the ornament of her
body. She has the greatest simplicity of manners,
of any of her sex. This makes every thing look
* Mrs. Ann Oldfield, the actress.
1*0 212. TATLER. 13
native about her, and her cloaths are so exactly
fitted that they appear, as it were, part of her
person. Every one that sees her knows her to be
of quality ; but her distinction is owing to her man-
ner and not to her habit. Her beauty is full of
attraction, but not of allurement. There is such a
composure in her looks, and propriety in her dress,
that you would think it impossible she should change
the garb, you one day see her in, for any thing so
becoming, until you next day see her in another.
There is no other mystery in this, but that however
she is apparelled, she is herself the same : for there
is so immediate a relation between our thoughts
and gestures, that a woman must think well to look
well.
But this weighty subject I must put off for some
other matters, in which my correspondents are ur-
gent for answers ; which I shall do where I can,
and appeal to the judgment of others where I
cannot.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF, August 15, 1710.
" Taking the air the other day on horseback, m
the green lane that leads to Southgate, I discovered
coming towards me a person well mounted in a
mask : and I accordingly expected, as any one
would, to have been robbed. But when we came
up with each other, the spark, to my greater sur-
prise, very peaceably gave me the way ; which
made me take courage enough to ask him, if he
masqueraded, or how ? He made me no answer,
but still continued incognito. This was certainly
an ass in a lion's skin ; a harmless bull-beggar,
who delights to fright innocent people, and set them
a galloping. I bethought myself of putting as good
a jest upon him, and had turned my horse, with a
VOL. v. c
14 TATLER. NO 212.
design to pursue him to London, and get him ap-
prehended on suspicion of being a highwayman :
but when I reflected, that it was the proper office
of the magistrate to punish only knaves, and that
we had a Censor of Great-Britain for people of ano-
ther denomination, I immediately determined to pro-
secute him in your court only. This unjustifiable
frolic I take to be neither wit nor humour, therefore
hope you will do me, and as many others as were
that day frighted, justice.
I am, Sir,
Your friend and servant,
J. L."
" SIR,
" The gentleman begs your pardon, and frighted
you out of fear of frighting you : for he is just come
out of the small-pox."
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" Your distinction concerning the time of com-
mencing virgins is allowed to be just. I write you
my thanks for it, in the twenty-eighth year of my
life, and twelfth of my virginity. But I am to ask
you another question : may a woman be said to live
any more years a maid, than she continues to be
courted ?
I am, &c."
" SIR, August 15, 1710.
" I observe that the Postman of Saturday last,
giving an account of the action in Spain, has this
elegant turn of expression ; general Stanhope,
who in the whole action expressed as much bravery
as conduct, received a contusion in his right
shoulder. I should be glad to know, whether this
cautious politician means to commend or to rally
NO 213. TATLJER. 15
him, by saying, ' He expressed as much bravery
as conduct* ? If you can explain this dubious phrase,
it will inform the public, and oblige, S.ir,
Your humble servant, &c."
213. SATURDAY, AUGUST 19, 1710.
Sheer-lane, August 18.
THERE has of late crept in among the downright
English a mighty spirit of dissimulation. But, be-
fore we discourse of this vice, it will be necessary
to observe, that the learned make a difference be-
tween simulation and dissimulation. Simulation is
a pretence of what is not, and dissimulation is a
concealment of what is. The latter is our present
affair. When you look round you in public places
in this island, you see the generality of mankind
carry in their countenance an air of challenge or de-
fiance ; and there is no such man to be found among
us, who naturally strives to do greater honours and
civilities than he receives. This innate sullenness
or stubbornness of complexion is hardly to be con-
quered by any of our islanders. For which reason,
however they may pretend to chouse one another,
they make but very aukward rogues ; and their dis-
like to each other is seldom so well dissembled, but
it is suspected. When once it is so, it had as good
be professed. A man who dissembles well must
have none of what we call stomach, otherwise he
will be cold in his professions of good-will where
he hates ; an imperfection of the last ill consequence
16 TATLER. NO 213.
in business. This fierceness in our natures is ap-
parent from the conduct of our young fellows, who
are not got into the schemes and arts of life which
the children of the world walk by. One would
think, that of course, when a man of any conse-
quence for his figure, his mien, or his gravity,
passes by a youth, he should certainly have the first
advances of salutation ; but he is, you may observe,
treated in a quite different manner; it being the
very characteristic of an English temper to defy.
As I am an Englishman, I find it a very hard matter
to bring myself to pull off the hat first ; but it is
the only way to be upon any good terms with those
we meet with. Therefore the first advance is of
high moment. Men judge of others by them-
selves ; and he that will command with us must
condescend. It moves one's spleen very agreeably,
to see fellows pretend to be dissemblers without
this lesson. They are so reservedly complaisant until
they have learned to resign their natural passions,
that all the steps they make towards gaining those,
whom they would be well with, are but so many
marks of what they really are, and not of what they
would appear.
The rough Britons, when they pretend to be art-
ful towards one another, are ridiculous enough ; but
when they set up for vices they have not, and dis-
semble their good with an affectation of ill, they are
insupportable. I know two men in this town who
make as good figures as any in it, that manage their
credit so well as to be thought atheists, and yet say
their prayers morning and evening. Tom Springly,
the other day, pretended to go to an assignation with
a married woman at Rosamond's pond, and was seen
soon after reading the responses with great gravity
at six-a-clock prayers.
NO 213. TATLER. 17
Sheer-lane, dugust 17.
Though the following epistle bears a just acca-
sation of myself, yet in regard it is a more advan-
tageous piece of justice to another, I insert it at
large.
"Garraway's Coffee-house, August 10.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" I have lately read your Paper, wherein you re-
present a conversation between a young lady, your
three nephews, and yourself; and am not a little
offended at the figure you give your young mer-
chant in the presence of a beauty. The topic of
love is a subject on which a man is more beholden
to nature for his eloquence, than to the instruction
of the schools, or my lady's woman. From the
two latter your scholar and page must have reaped
all their advantage above him. I know by this time
you have pronounced me a trader. I acknowledge
it; but cannot bear the exclusion from any pre-
tence of speaking agreeably to a fine woman, or
from any degree of generosity that way. You have
among us citizens many well wishers ; but it is for
the justice of your representations, which we, perhaps,
are better judges of than you ( by the account you
give of your nephew) seem to allow.
" To give you an opportunity of making us some
reparation, I desire you would tell, your own way,
the following instance of heroic love in the city.
You are to remember, that somewhere in your
writings, for enlarging the territories of virtue and
honour, you have multiplied the opportunities of
attaining to heroic virtue ; and have hinted, that in
whatever state of life man is, if he does things above
what is ordinarily performed by men of his rank, he
is in those instances an hero.
18 TATLER. NO 213.
" Tom Trueman, a young gentleman of eighteen
years of age, fell passionately in love with the beau-
teous Almira, daughter to his master. Her regard
for him was no less tender. Trueman was better
acquainted with his master's affairs than his daugh-
ter ; and secretly lamented, that each day brought
him by many miscarriages nearer bankruptcy than
the former. This unhappy posture of their af-
fairs, the youth suspected, was owing to the ill-
management of a factor, in whom his master had
an entire confidence. Trueman took a proper oc-
casion, when his master was ruminating on his de-
caying fortune, to address him for leave to spend
the remainder of his time with his foreign corre-
spondent. During three years stay in that em-
ployment, he became acquainted with all that con-
cerned his master, and by his great address in the
management of that knowledge saved him ten
thousand pounds. Soon after this accident, True-
man's uncle left him a considerable estate. Upon
receiving that advice, he returned to England, and
demanded Almira of her father. The father, over-
joyed at the match, offered him the ten thousand
pounds he had saved him, with the further propo-
sal of resigning to him all his business. Trueman
refused both; and retired into the country with
his bride, contented with his own fortune, though
perfectly skilled in all the methods of impro-
ving it.
" It is to be noted that Trueman refused twenty
thousand pounds with another young lady ; so
that reckoning both his self-denials, he is to have
in your court the merit of having given thirty
thousand pounds for the woman he loved. This
gentleman I claim your justice to; and hope you
will be convinced that some of us have larger
NO 214. TATJLER. 19
views than only Cash Debtor, Per contra Cre-
ditor. Yours,
RICHARD TRAFFICK."
" N. B. Mr. Thomas Newman, of Lime-street,
is entered among the heroes of domestic life.
CHARLES
No 214. TUESDAY, AUGUST 22, 1710.
Soles et aperta serena
Prospicere, et certis poteiis cognoscere sign Is.
VIRG. Georg. i. 393.
'Tis easy to descry
Returning suns and a serener sky. DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, August 21.
IN every party there are two sorts of men, the
rigid and the supple. The rigid are an intractable
race of mortals, who act upon principle, and will not,
forsooth, fall into any measures that are not con-
sistent with their received notions of honour. These
are persons of a stubborn unpliant morality ; that
sullenly adhere to their friends, when they are dis-
graced, and to their principles, though they are ex-
ploded. I shall therefore give up this stiff-necked
generation to their own obstinacy, and turn my
thoughts to the advantage of the supple, who pay
their homage to places, and not persons ; ^nd,
without enslaving themselves to any particular scheme
20 TATLER. NO 2 14.
of opinions, are as ready to change their conduct in
point of sentiment as of fashion. The well-dis-
ciplined part of a court are generally so perfect at
their exercise, that you may see a whole assembly,
from front to rear, face about at once to a new man
of power, though at the same time they turn their
backs upon him that brought them thither. The
great hardship these complaisant members of so-
ciety are under, seems to be the want of warning
upon any approaching change or revolution; so
that they are obliged in a hurry to tack about with
every wind, and stop short in the midst of a full
career, to the great surprise and derision of their
beholders.
When a man foresees a decaying ministry, he has
leisure to grow a malecontent, reflect upon the
present conduct, and by gradual murmurs fall off
from his friends into a new party, by just steps and
measures. For want of such notices I have formerly
known a very well-bred person refuse to return a
bow of a man whom he thought in disgrace, that
was next day made secretary of state ; and another,
who after a long neglect of a minister, came to his
levee, and made professions of zeal for his service the
very day before he was turned out.
This produces also unavoidable confusions and
mistakes in the descriptions of great men's parts
and merits. That antient Lyric, Mr. D'Urfey, some
years ago writ a dedication to a certain lord, in
which he celebrated him for the greatest poet and
critic of that age, upon a misinformation in Dyer's
Letter, that his noble patron was made lord cham-
berlain. In short, innumerable votes, speeches,
and sermons, have been thrown away and turned
to no account, merely for want of due and timely
intelligence. Nay, it has been known, that a pa-
negyric has been half printed off, when the poet.
NO 214. TATLER. 21
upon the removal of the minister, has been forced
to alter it into a satire.
For the conduct therefore of such useful persons,
as are already to do their country service upon all oc-
casions, I have an engine in my study, which is a
sort of a Political Barometer, or, to speak more
intelligibly, a State Weather-glass, that, by the
rising and falling of a certain magical liquor, pre-
sages all changes and revolutions in government,
as the common glass does of the weather. This
Weather-glass is said to have been invented by
Cardan, and given by him as a present to his great
countryman and contemporary, Machiavel ; which,
by the way, may serve to rectify a received error in
chronology, that places one of these some years
after the other. How or when it came into my
hands, I shall desire to be excused, if I keep to my-
self; but so it is, that I have walked by it for the
better part of a century to my safety at least, if not
to my advantage ; and have among my papers a
register of all the changes that have happened in it
from the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign.
In the time of that princess it stood long at Settled
Fair. At the latter end of king James the First, it
fell to Cloudy. It held several years after at Stormy:
insomuch, that at last, despairing of seeing any
clear weather at home, I followed the royal exile,
and some time after finding my Glass rise, returned
to my native country with the rest of the loyalists.
I was then in hopes to pass the remainder of my
days in Settled Fair: but alas! during the greatest
part of that reign the English nation lay in a dead
calm, which, as it is usual, was followed by high
winds and tempests, until of late years ; in which,
with unspeakable joy and satisfaction, I have seen
our political weather returned to Settled Fair. I
must only observe, that for all this last? summer my
22 TATLER. NO 2 1 4.
Glass has pointed at Changeable. Upon the whole,
I often apply to Fortune .^Eneas's speech to the
Sibyl :
Non ulla laborum
O virgo, nova mi fades inopinave surgit :
Omnia praecepi, atque animo mecum ante peregi.
VIRG. jEn. vi. 103.
No terror to my view,
No frightful face of danger can be new:
The mind foretels whatever comes to pass ;
A thoughtful mind is Fortune's Weather-glass.
The advantages, which have accrued to those
whom I have advised in their affairs, by virtue of
this sort of prescience, have been very considerable.
A nephew of mine, who has never put his money
into the stocks, or taken it out, without my advice,
has in a few years raised five hundred pounds to al-
most so many thousands. As for myself, who look
upon riches to consist rather in content than pos-
sessions, and measure the greatness of the mind
rather by its tranquillity than its ambition, I have
seldom used my Glass to make my way in the
world, but often to retire from it. This is a bye-
path to happiness, which was first discovered to me
by a most pleasing apophthegm of Pythagoras;
" When the winds," says he, " rise, worship the
echo." That great philosopher (whether to make
his doctrines the more venerable, or to gild his
precepts with the beauty of imagination, or to
awaken the curiosity of his disciples, for I will not
suppose, what is usually said, that he did it to
conceal his wisdom from the vulgar) has couched
several admirable precepts in remote allusions, and
mysterious sentences. By the winds in this apoph-
thegm, are meant state hurricanes and popular
NO 215. TATJUBR. 23
tumults. " When these rise," says he, " worship
the echo ;" that is, withdraw yourself from the
multitude into deserts, woods, solitudes, or the like
retirements, which are the usual habitations of the
ucho.
N 215. THURSDAY, AUGUST 24, 1710.
From my own Apartment, August 23.
LYSANDER has writ to me out pf the country, and
tells me, after many other circumstances, that he
had passed a great deal of time with much pleasure
and tranquillity ; until his happiness was interrupted
by an indiscreet flatterer, who came down into
those parts to visit a relation. With the circum-
stances in which he represents the matter, he had
no small provocation to be offended ; for he attacked
him in so wrong a season, that he could not have
any relish of pleasure in it; though, perhaps, at
another time it might have passed upon him without
giving him much uneasiness. Lysander had, after
a long satiety of the town, been so happy as to get
to a solitude he extremely liked, and recovered a
pleasure he had long discontinued, that of reading.
He was got to the bank of a rivulet, covered by a
pleasing shade, and fanned by a soft breeze : which
threw his mind into that sort of composure and at-
tention, in which a man, though with indolence,
enjoys the utmost liveliness of his spirits, and the
greatest strength of his mind at the same time. In
24 TATLER. NO 2 15.
this state, Lysander represents that he was reading
Virgil's Georgics, when on a sudden the gentleman
above-mentioned surprised him ; and without any
manner of preparation falls upon him at once :
" What ! I have found you at last, after searching
all over the wood ! we wanted you at cards after
dinner ; but you are much better employed. I have
heard indeed that you are an excellent scholar. But
at the same time, is it not a little unkind to rob the
ladies, who like you so well, of the pleasure of your
company? But that is indeed the misfortune 01 you
great scholars ; you are seldom so fit for the world
as those who never trouble themselves with books.
Well, I see you are taken up with your learning
there, and I will leave you," Lysander says, he
made him no answer, but took a resolution to com-
plain to me.
It is a substantial affliction, when men govern
themselves by the rules of good-breeding, that by
the very force of them they are subjected to the inso-
lence of those, who either never will, or never can,
understand them. The superficial part of mankind
form to themselves little measures of behaviour from
the outside of- things. By the force of these narrow
conceptions, they act among themselves with ap-
plause ; and do not apprehend they are contempti-
ble to those of higher understanding, who are re-
strained by decencies above their knowledge from
shewing a dislike. Hence it is, that because com-
plaisance is a good quality in conversation, one im-
pertinent takes upon him on all occasions to com-
mend; and because mirth is agreeable, another
thinks fit eternally to jest. I have of late received
many packets of letters, complaining of these spread-
ing evils. A lady who is lately arrived at the Bath
acquaints me, there were in the stage-coach where-
in she went down, a common flatterer, and a common
NO 215. TATLER. 25
jester. These gentlemen were, she tells me, rivals
in her favour ; and adds, if there ever happened a
case wherein of two persons one was not liked more
than another, it was in that journey. They differed
only in proportion to the degree of dislike between
the nauseous and the insipid. Both these characters
of men are born out of a barrenness of imagination.
They are never fools by nature ; but become such
out of an impotent ambition of being, what she never
intended them, men of wit and conversation. I
therefore think fit to declare, that according to the
known laws of this land, a man may be a very honest
gentleman, and enjoy himself and his friend, with-
out being a wit ; and I absolve all men from taking
pains to be such for the future. As the present
case stands, is it not very unhappy that Lysander must
be attacked and applauded in a wood, and Corinna
jolted and commended in a stage-coach ; and this
for no manner of reason, but because other people
have a mind to show their parts ? I grant, indeed, if
these people, as they have understanding enough for
it, would confine their accomplishments to those of
their own degree of talents, it were to be tolerated ;
but when they are so insolent as to interrupt the me-
ditations of the wise, the conversations of the agree-
able, and the whole behaviour of the modest, it be-
comes a grievance naturally in my jurisdiction.
Among themselves, I can not only overlook, but ap-
prove it. I was present the other day at a conver-
sation, where a man of this height of breeding and
sense told a young woman of the same form, " To
be sure, Madam, every thing must please that comes
from a lady." She answered, " I know, Sir, you
are so much a gentleman that you think so." Why
this was very well on both sides ; and it is impossible
that such a lady and gentleman should do otherwise
than think well of one another. These are but loose
VOL. v. D
26 TATLER. N<> 2 15.
hints of the disturbances in human society, for which
there is yet no remedy ; but I shall in a little time
publish tables of respect and civility, by which per-
sons may be instructed in the proper times and sea-
sons, as well ae at what degree of intimacy a man
may be allowed to commend or rally his companions ;
the promiscuous licence of which is, at present, far
from being among the small errors in conversation.
P. S. The following letter was left, with a re-
quest to be immediately answered, lest the artifices
used against a lady in distress may come into com-
mon practice.
" SIR,
" My eldest sister buried her husband about six
months ago ; and at his funeral, a gentleman of
more art than honesty, on the night of his interment,
while she was not herself, but in the utmost agony
of her grief, spoke to her of the subject of love. In
that weakness and distraction which my sister was
in, as one ready to fall is apt to lean on any body,
he obtained her promise of marriage, which was ac-
cordingly consummated eleven weeks after. There
is no affliction comes alone, but one brings another.
My sister is now ready to lye-in. She humbly asks
of you, as you are a friend to the sex, to let her
know, who is the lawful father of this child, or whe-
ther she may not be relieved from this second mar-
riage ; considering it was promised under such cir-
cumstances as one may very well suppose she did not
what she did voluntarily, but because she was help-
less otherwise. She is advised something about en-
gagements made in gaol, which she thinks the same,
as to the reason of the thing. But, dear Sir, she
relies upon your advice, and gives you her service ;
as does your humble servant,
" REBECCA MIDRIFFS."
*o 215. TATLER. 27
The case ii very hard ; and I fear the plea she is
advised to make, from v the similitude of a man who
is in duresse, will not prevail. But though I de-
spair of remedy as to the mother, the law gives the
child his choice of his father, where the birth is thus
legally ambiguous.
" To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esquire.
" The humble Petition of the Company of Linen-
drapers, residing within the liberty of West-
minster,
" SHEWF.TH,
" That there has of late prevailed among the ladies
so great an affectation of nakedness, that they have
not only left the bosom wholly bare, but lowered
their stays some inches below the former mode.
" That, in particular, Mrs. Arabella Overdo has
not the least appearance of linen; and our best
customers shew but little above the small of their
backs.
" That by this means your petitioners are in dan-
ger of losing the advantage ot covering a ninth part
of every woman of quality in Great-Britain.
" Your Petitioners humbly offer the premises
to your Indulgence's consideration, and shall
ever, &c."
Before I answer this petition, I am inclined to
examine the offenders myself.
28 TATLER. NO 2 16.
N 216. SATURDAY, AUGUST 26, 171O.
Nugis addere pondus .
HOR. 1 Ep. i. 42.
Weight and importance some to trifles pive.
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, August 25.
NATURE is full of wonders ; every atom is a stand-
ing miracle, and endowed with such qualities, as
could not be impressed on it by a power and wisdom
less than infinite. For this reason, I would not dis-
courage any searches that are made into the most
minute and trivial parts of the creation. However,
since the world abounds in the noblest fields of spe-
culation, it is, methinks, the mark of a little genius,
to be wholly conversant among insects, reptiles, ani-
malcules, and those trifling rarities that furnish out
the apartment of a virtuoso.
There are some men whose heads are so oddly
turned this way, that though they are utter stran-
gers to the common occurrences of life, they are
able to discover the sex of a cockle, or describe the
generation of a mite, in all its circumstances. They
are so little versed in the world, that they scarce
know an horse from an ox ; but, at the same time,
will tell you^with a great deal of gravity, that a flea
is a rhinoceros, and a snail an hermaphrodite. I
have known one of these whimsical philosophers,
who has set a greater value upon a collection of spi-
NO 216. TATLER. 9
ders than he would upon a flock of sheep, and has
sold his coat off his back to purchase a tarantula.
I would not have a scholar wholly unacquainted
with these secrets and curiosities of nature ; but cer-
tainly the mind of man, that is capable of so much
higher contemplations, should not be altogether fixed
upon such mean and disproportioned objects. Ob-
servations of this kind are apt to alienate us too much
from the knowledge of the world, and to make us
serious upon trifles ; by which means they expose phi-
losophy to the ridicule of the witty, and contempt
of the ignorant. In short, studies of this nature
should be the diversions, relaxations, and amuse-
ments ; not the care, business, and concern of life.'
It is indeed wonderful to consider, that there
should be a sort of learned men, who are wholly em-
ployed in gathering together the refuse of nature, if
I may call it so, and hoarding up in their chests and
cabinets such creatures as others industriously avoid
the sight of. One does not know how to mention
some of the most precious parts of their treasure,
without a kind of an apology for it. I have been shewn
a beetle valued at twenty crowns, and a toad at an
hundred : but we must take this for a general rule,
" That whatever appears trivial or obscene in the
common notions of the world, looks grave and phi-
losophical in the eye of a virtuoso."
To shew this humour in its perfection, I shall
present my reader with the legacy of a certain Vir-
tuoso, who laid out a considerable estate in natural
rarities and curiosities, which upon his death-bed he
bequeathed to his relations and friends, in the fol-
lowing words :
THE WILL Otf A VIRTUOSO.
I Nicholas Gimcrack, being in sound health of
mind, but in great weakness of body, do by this uiy
D2
SO TATLER. NO 216.
last will and testament bestow my worldly goods and
chattels in manner following :
Imprimis, To my dear wife,
One box of butterflies,
One drawer of shells,
A female skeleton,
A dried cockatrice.
Item, To my daughter Elizabeth,
My receipt for preserving dead caterpillars,
As also my preparations of winter Maydew, and
embryo-pickle.
Item, To my little daughter Fanny,
Three crocodiles' eggs.
And upon the birth of her first child, if she mar-
ries with her mother's consent,
The nest of an humming-bird.
Item, To my eldest brother, as an acknowledg-
ment for the lands he has vested in my son Charles,
I bequeath
My last year's collection of grasshoppers.
Item, To his daughter Susanna, being his only
child, I bequeath my
English weeds pasted on royal paper,
With my large folio of Indian cabbage.
Item, To my learned and worthy friend doctor
Johannes Elscrickius, professor in anatomy, and
my associate in the studies of nature, as an eternal
monument of my affection and friendship for him, I
bequeath
My rat's testicles, and
Whale's pizzle,
to him and his issue male ; and in default of such
NO 216. TATLER. 31
issue in the said doctor Elscrickius, then to return
to my executor and his heirs for ever.
Having fully provided for my nephew Isaac, by
making over to him, some years since,
A horned Scarabaeus,
The skin of a rattle-snake, and
The mummy of an Egyptian King,
I make no further provision for him in this my Will.
My eldest son John, having spoke disrespectfully
of his little sister, whom I keep by me in spirits of
wine, and in many other instances behaved himself
undutifully towards me, I do disinherit, and wholly
cut off from any part of this my personal estate, by
giving him a single cockle-shell.
To my second son Charles I give and bequeath all
my flowers, plants, minerals, mosses, shells, peb-
bles, fossils, beetles, butterflies, caterpillars, grass-
hoppers, and vermin, not above specified ; as also all
my monsters, both wet and dry ; making the said
Charles whole and sole executor of this my last will
and testament; he paying, or causing to be paid,
the aforesaid legacies within the space of six months
after my decease. And I do hereby revoke all other
wills whatsoever by me formerly made.
ADVERTISEMENT.
*#* Whereas an ignorant upstart in astrology has
publicly endeavoured to persuade the world that he is
the late John Partridge, who died the 28th of March,
1708 : These are to certify all whom it may concern,
that the true John Partridge was not only dead at
that time, but continues so to this present day.
Beware of counterfeits, for such are abroad.
TATLKR. N 217-
N 217- TUESDAY, AUGUST 29, 1710.
Atque deos atqve astra vocat crudeliu mater.
ViRG. Eel. v. ver. 28.
She sigh'd, she sobb'd, and furious with despair,
Accused all the gods, anil every star.
DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, August 28.
As I was passing by a neighbour's house this morn-
ing, I overheard the wife of the family speaking
things to her husband which gave me much distur-
bance, and put me in mind of a character which I
wonder I have so long omitted, and that is, an out-
rageous species of the fair sex, which is distinguished
by the term Scolds. The generality of women are
by nature loquacious ; therefore mere volubility of
speech is not to be imputed to them, but should be
considered with pleasure when it is used to express
such passions as tend to sweeten or adorn conversa-
tion ; but when, through rage, females are vehe-
ment in their eloquence, nothing in the world has so
ill an effect upon the features ; for by the force of it
I have seen the most amiable become the most de-
formed; and she that appeared one of the Graces,
immediately turned into one of the Furies. I hum-
bly conceive, the great cause of this evil may pro-
ceed from a false notion the ladies have of, what we
call, a modest woman. They have too narrow a con-
ception of this lovely character; and believe they
have not at all forfeited their pretensions to it, pro-
NO 2 17- TATLER. 33
vided they have no imputations on their chastity.
But, alas! the young fellows know they pick out
better women in the side-boxes, than many of
those who pass upon the world and themselves for
modest.
Modesty never rages, never murmurs,, never
pouts ; when it is ill-treated, it pines, it beseeches,
it languishes. The neighbour I mention is one of
your common modest women, that is to say, those
who are ordinarily reckoned such. Her husband
knows every pain of life with her, but jealousy.
Now, because she is clear in this particular, the man
cannot say his soul is his own, but she cries, " No
modest woman is respected now-a-days." What
adds to the comedy in this case is, that it is very or-
dinary with this sort of women to talk in the lan-
guage of distress ; they will complain of the forlorn
wretchedness of their condition, and then the poor
helpless creatures shall throw the next thing they can
lay their hands on at the person who offends them.
Our neighbour was only saying to his wife, " she
went a little too fine," when she immediately pulled
his periwig off, and stamping it under her feet,
wrung her hands, and said, " Never modest woman
was so used." These ladies of irresistible modesty
are those, who make virtue unamiable ; not that they
can be said to be virtuous, but as they live without
scandal ; and being under the common denomina-
tion of being such, men fear to meet their faults in
those who are as agreeable as they are innocent.
I take the Bully among men, and the Scold among
women, to draw the foundation of their actions
from the same defect in the mind. A Bully thinks
honour consists wholly in being brave ; and there-
fore has regard to no one rule of life, if he preserves
himself from the accusation of cowardice. The fro-
ward woman knows chastity to be the first merit in
34 TATLER. NO 21*.
a woman ; and therefore, since no one can call her
one ugly name, she calls mankind all the rest.
These ladies, where their companions are so im-
prudent as to take their speeches for any other, than
exercises of their own lungs and their husbands pa-
tience, gain by the force of being resisted, and flame
with open fury, which is no way to be opposed but
by being neglected ; though at the same time human
frailty makes it very hard, to relish the philosophy
of contemning even frivolous reproach. There is a
very pretty instance of this infirmity in the man of
the best sense that evtr was, no less a person than
Adam himself. According to Milton's description
of the first couple, as soon as they had fallen, and
the turbulent passions of anger, hatred, and jealousy,
first entered their breasts; Adam grew moody, and
talked to his wife, as you may find it in the three
hundred and fifty-ninth page, and ninth book, of
Paradise Lost, in the octavo edition, which out of
heroics, and put into domestic style, would run
thus :
" Madam, if my advices had been of any authoriy
with you, when that strange desire of gadding pos-
sessed you this morning, we had still been happy ;
but your cursed vanity and opinion of your own con-
duct, which is certainly very wavering when it seeks
occasions of being proved, has ruined both yourself
and me, who trusted you."
Eve had no fan in her hand to ruffle, or tucker
to pull down ; but with a reproachful air she an-
swered :
" Sir, do you impute that to my desire of gadding,
which might have happened to yourself, with all
your wisdom and gravity ? The serpent spoke so ex-
cellently, and with so good a grace, that Besides,
what harm had I ever done him, that he should de-
sign me any ? Was I to have been always at your
NO 2 17- TATLER. 35
side, I might as well have continued there, and been
but your rib still ; but if I was so weak a creature as
you thought me, why did you not interpose your
sage authority more absolutely? You denied me
going as faintly, as you say I resisted the serpent.
Had not you been too easy, neither you nor I had
now transgressed."
Adam replied, " Why, Eve, hast thou the impu-
dence to upbraid me as the cause of thy transgres-
sion for my indulgence to thee ? Thus will it ever be
with him, who trusts too much to woman. At the
same time that she refuses to be governed, if she
suffers by her obstinacy, she will accuse the man
that shall leave her to herself."
" Thus they in mutual accusation spent
The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning:
And of their vain contest ajtpear'd no end."
This, to the modern, will appear but a very faint
piece of conjugal enmity: but you are to consider,
that they were just begun to be angry, and they
wanted new words for expressing their new passions ;
but by her accusing him of letting her go, and tell-
ing him how good a speaker, and how fine a gentle-
man the devil was, we must reckon, allowing for
the improvements of time, that she gave him the
same provocation as if she had called him cuckold.
The passionate and familiar terms, with which the
same case repeated daily for so many thousand years
has furnished the present generation, were not then
in use ; but the foundation of debate has ever been
the same, a contention about their merit and wisdom.
Our general mother was a beauty; and hearing there
was another now in the world, could not forbear,
as Adam tells her, shewing herself, though to the
devil, by whom the same vanity made her liable to
be betrayed.
36 TATLER. NO 2 17-
I cannot, with all the help of science and astro-
logy, find any other remedy for this evil, but what
was the medicine in this first quarrel ; which was,
as appears in the next book, that they were con-
vinced of their being both weak, but the one \veaker
than the other.
If it were possible that the beauteous could but
rage a little before a glass, and see their pretty coun-
tenance grow wild, it is not to be doubted but it
would have a very good effect : but that would re-
quire temper ; for Lady Firebrand, upon observing
her features swell when her rnaid vexed her the
other day, stamped her dressing-glass under her
feet. In this case, when one of this temper is moved,
she is like a witch in an operation, and makes all
things turn round with her. The very fabric is in
a vertigo when she begins to charm. In an instant,
whatever was the occasion that moved her blood,
she has 'such intolerable servants ; Betty is so auk-
ward, Tom cannot carry a message, and her hus-
band has so little respect for her, that she, poor wo-
man, is weary of this life, and was born .to be unhappy.
Desnnt mulia.
ADVERTISEMENT.
*** The season now coming on in which the town
will begin to fill, Mr. Bickerstaff gives notice, That
from the first of October next, he will be much
wittier than he has hitherto been.
218. TATLER. 37
N'21S. THURSDAY, AUGUST 31, 1710.
Scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus, et fugit urbes.
Hon. 2Ep. ii. 77.
The tribe of writers, to a man, admire
The peaceful grove, and from the town retire.
FRANCI*.
From my own Apartment, August 30.
I CHANCED to rise very early one particular morn-
ing this summer, and took a walk into the country to
divert myself among the fields and meadows, while
the green was new, and the flowers in their bloom.
As at this season of the year every lane is a beautiful
walk, and every hedge full of nosegays ; I lost my-
self, with a great deal of pleasure, among several
thickets and bushes, that were filled with a great
variety of birds, and an agreeable confusion of
notes, which formed the pleasantest scene in the
world to one who had passed a whole winter in
noise and smoke. The freshness of the dews that
lay upon every thing about me, with the cool breath
of the morning, which inspired the birds with so
many delightful instincts, created in me the same
kind of animal pleasure, and made my heart over-
flow with such secret emotions of joy and satisfac-
tion as are not to be described or accounted for. On
this occasion I could not but reflect upon a beautiful
simile in Milton :
VOL. v. E
38 TATLKR. NO 2 18.
As one who long in populous city pent,
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air,
Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe
Among the pleasant villages and farms
Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight :
The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine,
Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound.
Those who are conversant in the writings of polite
authors, receive an additional entertainment from
the country, as it revives in their memories those
charming descriptions, with which such authors do
frequently abound.
J was thinking of the foregoing beautiful .simile
in Milton, and applying it to myself, when I ob-
served to the windward of me a black cloud falling
to the earth in long trails of rain, which made me
betake myself for shelter to a house I saw at a little
distance from the place where I was walking. As I
sat in the porch, I heard the voices of two or three
persons, who seemed very earnest in discourse. My
curiosity was raised when I heard the names of Alex-
ander the Great and Artaxerxes; and as their tajk
seemed to run on ancient. heroes, I concluded there
could not be any secret in it ; for which reason I
thought I might very fairly listen to what they said.
After several parallels between great men, which
appeared to me altogether groundless and chimerical,
I was surprized to hear one say, that he valued the
Black Prince more than the duke of Vendosme. How
the duke of Vendosme should become a rival of the
Stack Prince, I could not conceive : and was more
startled when I heard a second affirm, with great
vehemence, that if the emperor of Germany was not
going off, he should like him better than either of
them. He added, that though the season was so
changeable, the duke of Marlborough was in bloom-
ing beauty. I was wondering to myself from whence
N>218. TATLKR. 39
they had received this odd intelligence : especially
when I heard them mention the names of several
other great generals, as the prince of Hesse, and the
king of Sweden, who, they said, were both running
away. To which they added, what I entirely agreed
with them in, that the crown of France was very
weak, but that the marshal Villars still kept his co-
lours. At last, one of them told the company, if they
would go along with him, he would shew them a
chimney-sweeper and a painted lady in the same bed,
which he was sure would very much please them.
The shower which had driven them as well as my-
self into the house, was now over ; and as they were
passing by me into the garden, I asked them to let
me be one of their company.
The gentleman of the house told me, " if I de-
lighted in flowers, it would be worth my while ; for
that he believed he could shew me such a blow of
tulips as was not to be matched in the whole
country."
I accepted the offer, and immediately found that
they had been talking in terms of gardening, and
that the kings and generals they had mentioned
were only so many tulips, to which the gardeners, ac-
cording to their usual custom, had given such high
titles and appellations of honour.
I was very much pleased and astonished at the glo-
rious shew of these gay vegetables, that arose in
great profusion on all the banks about us. Some-
times I considered them with the eye of an ordinary
spectator, as so many beautiful objects varnished over
with a natural gloss, and stained with such a variety
of colours, as are not to be equalled in any artificial
dyes or tinctures. Sometimes I considered every
leaf as an elaborate piece of tissue, in which the
threads and fibres were woven together into different
configurations, which gave a different colouring to
40 TATLER. NO 2 18.
the light as it glanced on the several parts of the
surface. Sometimes I considered the whole bed of
tulips, according to the notion of the greatest ma-
thematician and philosopher that ever lived *, as a
multitude of optic instruments, designed for the se-
parating light into all those various colours of which
it is composed.
I was awakened out of these my philosophical spe-
culations, by observing the company often seemed-
to laugh at me. I accidentally praised a tulip as one
of the finest I ever saw ; upon which they told me,
it was a common Fool's Coat. Upon that I praised
a second, which it seems was but another kind of
Fool's Coat. I had the same fate with two or three
more ; for which reason I desired the owner of the
garden to let me know which were the finest of the
flowers ; for that I was so unskilful in the art, that I
thought the most beautiful were the most valuable,
and that those which had the gayest colours were
the most beautiful. The gentleman smiled at my
ignorance. He seemed a very plain honest man, and
a person of good sense, had not his head been touch-
ed with that distemper which Hippocrates calls the
Ti/Xi7r7rojuvta, Tulippomania; insomuch that he would
talk very rationally on any subject in the world but
a tulip.
He told me, " that he valued the bed of flowers
which lay before us, and was not above twenty yards
in length and two in breadth, more than he would
the best hundred acres of land in England ;" and
added, " that it would have been worth twice the
money it is, if a foolish cook-maid of his had not
almost ruined him the last winter, by mistaking a
handful of tulip-roots for an heap of onions, and
by that means," says he, " made me a dish of por-
* Sir Isaac Newton,
NO 218. TATLER. 41
ridge that cost me above a thousand pounds sterling.
He then shewed me what he thought the finest of
his tulips, which I found received all their value
from their rarity and oddness, and put me in mind
of your great fortunes, which are not always the
greatest beauties.
I have often looked upon it as a piece of happiness,
that I have never fallen into any of these fantastical
tastes, nor esteemed any thing the more for its be-
ing uncommon and hard to be met with. For this
reason I look upon the whole country in spring-time
as a spacious garden, and make as many visits to a
spot of daisies or a bank of violets, as a florist does
to his borders or parterres. There is not a bush in
blossom within a mile of me, which I am not ac-
quainted with, nor scarce a daffodil or cowslip that
withers away in my neighbourhood without my miss-
ing it. I walked home in this temper of mind through
several fields and meadows with an unspeakable plea-
sure, not without reflecting on the bounty of Pro-
vidence, which has made the most pleasing and
most beautiful objects the most ordinary and most
common.
TATLBR. NO 219.
N 219. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBERS, 1710.
Solutos
Qui captat risux hominum, famamque dicacis
Afjf'ectat, niger est; hunc, tu Romane, caveto.
HOR. 1 Sat. iv. 82,
Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise,
And courts of prating petulance the praise,
This man is vile ; here, Roman, fix your mark;
His soul is black, as his complexion's dark.
FRANCIS.
NEVER were men so perplexed as a select company
of us were this evening with a couple of professed
wits, who, through our ill fortune, and their own
confidence, had thought fit to pin themselves upon
a gentleman who had owned to them, that he was
going to meet such and such persons, and named us
one by one. These pert puppies immediately resolved
to come with him ; and from the beginning to the
end of the night entertained each other with imper-
tinences, to which we were perfect strangers. I am
come home very much tired ; for the affliction was
so irksome to me, that it surpasses all other I ever
knew, insomuch that I cannot reflect upon this sor-
row with pleasure, though it is past.
An easy manner of conversation is the most desi-
rable quality a man can have ; and for that reason
coxcombs will take upon them to be familiar with
people whom they never saw before. What adds to
the vexation of it is, that they will act upon the foot
NO 919. TATLER. 43
of knowing you by fame ; and rally with you, as they
call it, by repeating what your enemies say of you ;
and court you, as they think, by uttering to your
face, at a wrong time, all the kind things your friends
speak of you in your absence.
These people are the more dreadful, the more
they have of what is usually called wit : for a lively
imagination, when it is not governed by a good un-
derstanding, makes such miserable havock both in
conversation and business, that it lays you defence-
less, and fearful to throw the least word in its way
that may give it new matter for its further errors.
Tom Mercet has as quick a fancy as any one liv-
ing ; but there is no reasonable man can bear him
half an hour. His purpose is to entertain, and it is
of no consequence to him what is said, so it be what
is called well said : as if a man must bear a wound
with patience, because he that pushed at you came
up with a good air and mien. That part of life
which we spend in company is the most pleasing of
all our moments ; and therefore I think our beha-
viour in it should have its laws as well as the part
of our being which is generally esteemed the more
important. From hence it is, that from long expe-
rience I have made it a maxim, That however we
may pretend to take satisfaction in sprightly mirth
and high jollity, there is no great pleasure in any
company where the basis of the society is not mu-
tual good will. When this is in the room, every trifling
circumstance, the most minute accident, the absurdity
of a servant, the repetition of an old story, the
look of a man when he is telling it, the most indif-
ferent and the most ordinary occurrences, are mat-
ters which produce mirth and good-humour. I went
to spend an hour after this manner with some friends,
who enjoy it in perfection whenever they- meet,
when those destroyers above-mentioned came in
44 TATLER. NO 219,
upon us. There is not a man among them who has
any notion of distinction of superiority to one ano-
ther, either in their fortunes or their talents, when
they are in company. Or if any reflection to the
contrary occurs in their thoughts, it only strikes a
delight upon their minds, that so much wisdom and
power is in possession of one whom they love and
esteem.
In these my Lucubrations, I have frequently
dwelt upon this one topic. The above maxim would
make short work for us reformers; for it is only
want of making this a position that renders some cha-
racters bad, which would otherwise be good. Tom
Mercet means no man ill, but does ill to every body.
His ambition is to be witty ; and to carry on that
design he breaks through all things that other peo-
ple hold sacred. If he thought that wit was no way
to be used but to the advantage of society, that
sprightliness would have a new turn ; and we should
expect what he is going to say with satisfaction in-
stead of fear. It is no excuse for being mischievous,
that a man is mischievous without malice : nor will
it be thought an atonement, that the ill was done
not to injure the party concerned, but to divert the
indifferent.
It is, methinks, a very great error, that we should
not profess honesty in conversation, as much as in
commerce. If we consider, that there is no greater
misfortune than to be ill received ; where we love the
turning a man to ridicule among his friends, we rob
him of greater enjoyments than he could have pur-
chased by his wealth ; yet he that laughs at him
would perhaps be the last man who would hurt him
in this case of less consequence. It has been said,
the history of Don Quixote utterly destroyed the
spirit of gallantry in the Spanish nation ; and I be-
lieve we may say much more truly, that the humour
NO 419. TATLBR. 45
of ridicule has done as much injury to the true relish
of company in England.
Such satisfactions as arise from the secret compa-
rison of ourselves to others, with relation to their
inferior fortunes or merit, are mean and unworthy.
The true and high state of conversation is, when men
communicate their thoughts to each other upon such
subjects, and in such a manner, as would be plea-
sant if there were no such thing as folly in the world ;
for it is but a low condition of wit in one man which
depends upon folly in another.
P. S. I was here interrupted by the receipt of my
letters, among which is one from a lady who is not
a little offended at my translation of the discourse
between Adam and Eve. She pretends to tell me
my own, as she calls it, and quotes several passages
in my works, which tend to the utter disunion of man
and wife. Her epistle will best express her. I have
made an extract of it, and shall insert the most ma-
terial passages.
" I suppose you know we women are not too apt
to forgive : for which reason, before you concern
yourself any further with our sex, I would advise
you to answer what is said against you by those of
your own. I inclose to you business enough, until
you are ready for your promise of being witty. You
must not expect to say what you please, without
admitting others to take the same liberty. Marry
come up ! you a Censor ? Pray read over all these
pamphlets, and these notes upon your Lucubrations ;
by that time you shall hear further. It is, I sup-
pose, from such as you that people learn to be cen-
sorious, for which I and all our sex have an utter
aversion ; when once people come to take the liberty
to wound reputations ; "
This is the main body of the letter; but she bids
me turn over, and there I find
46 TATLER. N 219.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" If you will draw Mrs. Cicely Trippet according
to the inclosed description, I will forgive you all."
" To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esquire.
" The humble Petition of Joshua Fairlove, of Stepney,
" SHEWETH,
" That your Petitioner is a general lover, who for
some months last past has made it his whole busi-
ness to frequent the bye-paths and roads near his
dwelling, for no other purpose but to hand such of
the fair sex as are obliged to pass through them.
" That he has been at great expence for clean
gloves to offer his hand with.
" That towards the evening he approaches near
London, and employs himself as a convoy towards
home.
" Your Petitioner therefore most humbly prays,
that for such his humble services he may be
allowed the title of Esquire."
Mr. Morphew has orders to carry the proper
instruments; and the Petitioner is hereafter to be
writ to upon gilt paper, by the title of Joshua Fair-
love, Esquire.
N 220. TATLKR. 47
N-220. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1710.
Insani sapiens nomenferat aquus iniqui,
Ultra quant satis est, virtutem si petat ijisam.
HoR. 1 Ep. vi. 15.
Even virtue, when pursu'd with warmth extreme,
Turns into vice, and fools the safe's fame.
FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, September 4.
HAVING received many letters filled with compli-
ments and acknowledgements for my late useful dis-
covery of the political Barometer, I shall here com-
municate to the public an account of my ecclesiastical
Thermometer, the latter giving as manifest prog-
nostications of the changes and revolutions in church,
as the former does of those in state ; and both of
them being absolutely necessary for every prudent
subject who is resolved to keep what he has, and get
what he can.
The church Thermometer, which I am now to
treat of, is supposed to have been invented in the
reign of Henry the Eighth, about the time when
that religious prince put some to death for owning
the Pope's supremacy, and others for denying tran-
substantiation. I do not find, however, any great
use made of this instrument, until it fell into the
hands of a learned and vigilant priest or minister,
for he frequently wrote himself both one and the
other, who was some time Vicar of Bray. This
gentleman lived in his vicarage to a good old age ;
48 TATLER. NO 220.
and, after having seen several successions of his
neighbouring clergy either burned or banished, de-
parted this life with the satisfaction of having never
deserted his flock, and died vicar of Bray. As
this Glass was at first designed to calculate the dif-
ferent degrees of heat in religion, as it raged in
popery, or as it cooled and grew temperate in the
Reformation; it was marked at several distances,
after the manner our ordinary thermometer is to this
day, viz. " Extreme Heat, Sultry Heat, Very
Hot, Hot, Warm, Temperate, Cold, Just Freez-
ing, Frost, Hard Frost, Great Frost, Extreme
Cold."
It is well known that Torricellius, the inventor
of the common weather-glass, made the experiment
in a long tube which held thirty-two feet of water ;
and that a more modern virtuoso, finding such a
machine altogether unwieldy and useless, and
considering that thirty-two inches of quicksilver
weighed as much as so many feet of water in
a tube of the same circumference, invented that
sizable instrument which is now in use. After
this manner that I might adapt the Thermometer
I am now speaking of to the present constitution of
our Church, as divided into High and Low, I have
made some necessary variations both in the tube
and the fluid it contains. In the first place, I or-
dered a tube to be cast in a planetary hour, and
took care to seal it hermetically, when the Sun was
in conjunction with Saturn. I then took the proper
precautions about the fluid, which is a compound of
two very different liquors ; one of them a spirit
drawn out of a strong heady wine ; the other a par-
ticular sort of rock-water, colder than ice, and
clearer then crsytal. The spirit is of a red fiery
colour, and so very apt to ferment, that unless it be
mingled with a proportion of the water, or pent up
N 220. TATLER. 49
very close, it will burst the vessel that holds it, and
fly up in fume and smoke. The water, on the con-
trary, is of such a subtle piercing cold, that unless
it be mingled with a proportion of the spirits, it will
sink almost through every thing that it is put into :
and seems to be of the same nature as the water
mentioned by Quintus Curtius, which, says the
historian, could be contained in nothing but in the
hoof, or, as the Oxford manuscript has it, in the
scull of an ass. The Thermometer is marked accord-
ing to the following figure ; which I set down at
length, not only to give my reader a clear idea of
it, but also to fill up my Paper.
Ignorance.
Persecution.
Wrath.
Zeal.
CHURCH.
Moderation.
Lukewarmness.
Infidelity.
Ignorance.
The reader will observe, that the Church is placed
in the middle point of the glass, between Zeal and
Moderation ; the situation in which she always
flourishes, and in which every good Englishman
wishes her, who is a friend to the constitution of his
country. However, when it mounts to Zeal, it is
not amiss ; and, when it sinks to Moderation, is
still in a most admirable temper. The worst of it
is, that when it once begins to rise, it has- still an
inclination to ascend ; insomuch that it is apt to
climb up from Zeal to Wrath, and from Wrath to
Persecution, which always ends in Ignorance, and
very often proceeds from it. In the same manner
it frequently takes its progress through the ower
VOL. v. t
50 TATLKR. NO 220.
half of the glass ; and, when it has a tendency to
fall, will gradually descend from Moderation to
Lukewarmness, and from Lukewarmness to Infide-
lity, which very often terminates in Ignorance, and
always proceeds from it.
It is a common observation, that the ordinary
Thermometer will be affected by the breathing of
people who are in the room where it stands ; and
indeed it is almost incredible to conceive, how the
glass I am now describing will fall by the breath of
a multitude crying " Popery;" or, on the contrary,
how it will rise when the same multitude, as it
sometimes happens, cry out in the same breath,
" The Church is in danger."
As soon as I had finished this my glass, and ad-
justed it to the abovementioned scale of religion ;
that I might make proper experiments with it, I
carried it under my cloke to several coffee-houses,
and other places of resort about this great city. At
St. James's Coffee-house the liquor stood at Mode-
ration : but at Will's, to my great surprize, it sub-
sided to the very lowest mark on the glass. At the
Grecian it mounted but just one point higher ; at
the Rainbow it still ascended two degrees ; Child's
fetched it up to Zeal ; and other adjacent coffee-
houses, to Wrath.
It fell in the lower half of the glass as I went
further into the city, until at length it settled at
Moderation, where it continued all the time I staid
about the Exchange, as also while I passed by the
Bank. And here I cannot but take notice, that
through the whole course of my remarks, I never
observed my glass to rise at the same time the
stocks did.
To complete the experiment, I prevailed upon a
friend of mine, who works under me in the Occult
Sciences, to make a progress with my glass through
TATLER. 51
the whole island of Great Britain : and after his
return, to present me with a register of his obser-
vations. I guessed before-hand at the temper of
several places he passed through, by the characters
they have had time out of mind. Thus that face-
tious divine, Dr. Fuller, speaking of the town of
Banbury near a hundred years ago, tells us, it was
a place famous for cakes and zeal, which I find by
my glass is true to this day, as to the latter part of
this description ; though I must confess, it is not in
the same reputation for cakes that it was in the
time of that learned author ; and thus of other
places. In short, I have now by me, digested in an
alphabetical order, all the counties, corporations,
and boroughs in Great Britain, with their respective
tempers, as they stand related to my Thermometer.
But this I shall keep to myself, because I would by
no means do any thing that may seem to influence
any ensuing elections.
The point of doctrine which I would propagate
by this my invention, is the same which was long
ago advanced by that able teacher Horace, out of
whom I have taken my text for this discourse. We
should be careful not to over-shoot ourselves in the
pursuits even of virtue. Whether Zeal or Mode-
ration be the point we aim at, let us keep fire out
of the one, and frost out of the other. But, alas !
the world is too wise to want such a precaution.
The terms High Church and Low Church, as com-
monly used, do not so much denote a principle, as
they distinguish a party. They are like words of
battle, they have nothing to do with their original
signification ; but are only given out to keep a body
of men together, and to let them know friends from
enemies.
I must confess I have considered, with some little
attention, the influence which the opinions of these
52 TATLBR. NO 221.
great national sects have upon their practice ; and
do look upon it as one of the unaccountable
things of our times, that multitudes of honest gen-
tlemen, who entirely agree in their lives, should
take it in their heads to differ in their religion.
N221. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1710.
-Sicut meus est mos,
IVetcio quid meditans nugarum, et totus in illiit.
HOR. 1 Sat. ix. t.
Musing, as wont, on this and that,
Such trifles, as I know not what.
FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, September 6.
As I was this morning going out of my house, a
little boy in a black coat delivered me the following
letter. Upon asking who he was, he told me, that
he belonged to my Lady Gimcrack. I did not at
first recollect the name ; but, upon inquiry, I
found it to be the widow of Sir Nicholas, whose
legacy I lately gave some account of to the world.
The letter ran thus :
"MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" I hope you will not be surprised to receive a
letter from the widow Gimcrack. You know, Sir,
that I have lately lost a very whimsical husband,
N 221. TATLER. S>3
who I find by one of your last week's Papers, was
not altogether a stranger to you. When I married
this gentleman, he had a very handsome estate ;
but upon buying a set of microscopes, he was chosen
a Fellow of the Royal Society ; from which time I
do not remember ever to have heard him speak as
other people did, or talk in a manner that any of
his family could understand him. He used, how-
ever, to pass away his time very innocently in con-
versation with several members of that learned
body ; for which reason, I never advised him against
their company for several years, until at last I found
his brain quite turned with their discourses. The
first symptom which he discovered of his being a
Virtuoso, as you call him, poor man ! was about
fifteen years ago ; when he gave me positive orders
to turn off an old weeding-woman, that had been
employed in the family for some years. He told
me, at the same time, that there was no such thing
in nature as a weed, and that it was his design to let
his garden produce what it pleased ; so that, you
may be sure, it makes a very pleasant show as it
now lies. About the same time he took a humour
to ramble up and down the country, and would
often bring home with him his pockets full of moss
and pebbles. This, you may be sure, gave me a
heavy heart ; though at the same time I must needs
say, he had the character of a very honest man, not-
withstanding he was reckoned a little weak, until
he began to sell his estate, and buy those strange
baubles that you have taken notice of. Upon Mid-
summer-day last, as he was walking with me in the
fields, he saw a very odd-coloured butterfly just
before us. I observed that he immediately changed
colour, like a man that is surprised with a piece of
good luck : and telling me, that it was what he had
looked for above these twelve years, he threw off
F2
54 TATLER. NO 221,
his coat, and followed it. I lost sight of them both
in less than a quarter of an hour ; but my husband
continued the chace over hedge and ditch until about
sunset; at which time, as I was afterwards told,
he caught the butterfly as she rested herself upon a
cabbage, near five miles from the place where he
first put her up. He was here lifted from the
ground by some passengers in a very fainting con-
dition, and brought home to me about midnight.
His violent exercise threw him into a fever, which
grew upon him by degrees, and at last carried him
off. In one of the intervals of his distemper he
called to me, and, after having excused himself for
running out his estate, he told me, that he had al-
ways been more industrious to improve his mind
than his fortune : and that his family must rather
value themselves upon his memory as he was a wise
man, than a rich one. He then told me, that it
was a custom among the Romans for a man to give
his slaves their liberty when he lay upon his death-
bed. I could not imagine what this meant, until,
after having a little composed himself, he ordered
me to bring him a flea which he had kept for several
months in a chain, with a design, as he said, to
give it its manumission. This was done accordingly.
He then made the Will, which I have since seen
printed in your Works word for word. Only I must
take notice, that you have omitted the codicil, in
which he left a large Concha Feneris, as it is there
called, to a Member of the Royal Society, who was
often with him in his sickness, and assisted him in
his will. And now, Sir, I come to the chief busi-
ness of my letter, which is to desire your friendship
and assistance in the disposal of those many rarities
and curiosities which lie upon my hands. If you
know any one that has an occasion for a parcel of
dried spiders, I will sell them a penny worth. I
NO 221. TATLER. 55
could likewise let any one have a bargain of cockle-
shells. I would also desire your advice, whether I
had best sell my beetles in a lump, or by retail.
The gentleman above-mentioned, who was my hus-
band's friend, would have me make an auction of
all his goods, and is now drawing up a catalogue
of every particular for that purpose, with the two
following words in great letters over the head of
them, Auctio Gimcrackiana. But upon talking with
him, I began to suspect he is as mad as poor Sir
Nicholas was. Your advice in all these particulars
will be a great piece of charity to,
SIR,
Your most humble servant,
ELIZABETH GIMCRACK."
I shall answer the foregoing letter, and give the
widow my best advice, as soon as I can find out
chapmen for the wares which she has put off. In
the mean time, I shall give my reader the sight of a
letter, which I have received from another female
correspondent by the same post.
" GOOD MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" I am convinced by a late paper of yours, that a
passionate woman, who among the common people
goes under the name of a scold, is one of the most
insupportable creatures in the world. But, alas !
Sir, what can we do ? I have made a thousand vows
and resolutions every morning to guard myself
against this frailty ; but have generally broken them
before dinner, and could never in my life hold out
until the second course was set upon the table.
What most troubles me is, that my husband is as
patient and good-natured as your own Worship, or
any man living can be. Pray give me some direc-
tions, for I would observe the strictest and severest
56 TATLER. NO 291.
rules you can think of to cure myself of this distem-
per, which is apt to fall into my tongue every mo-
ment. I am, Sir,
Your most humble servant, &c."
In answer to this most unfortunate lady I must
acquaint her, that there is now in town an ingenious
physician of my acquaintance, who undertakes to
cure all the vices and defects of the mind by inward
medicines or outward applications. I shall give the
world an account of his patients and his cures in
other Papers, when I shall be more at leisure to
treat upon this subject. I shall only here inform my
correspondent, that, for the benefit of such ladies
as are troubled with virulent tongues, he has pre-
pared a cold-bath, over which there is fastened at
the end of a long pole, a very copvenient chair,
curiously gilt and carved. When the patient is
seated in this chair, the doctor lifts up the pole,
and gives her two or three total immersions in the
cold-bath, until such time as she has quite lost the
use of speech. This operation so effectually chills
the tongue, and refrigerates the blood, that a wo-
man, who at her entrance into the chair is extremely
passionate and sonorous, will come out as silent and
gentle as a lamb. The doctor told me, he would
not practise this experiment upon women of fashion,
had not he seen it made upon those of meaner con-
dition with very good effect.
NO 222. TATLER. 5f
N 222. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1T10.
Chrysidis udas
JSbrius ante fores extinctd cum face cantat.
PERSIUS, Sat. v. 165.
Shall I at Clirybis" door the night prolong
With midnight serenade, or drunken song ?
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, September 8.
WHEREAS, by .letters from Nottingham, we have
advice, that the young ladies of that place complain
for want of sleep, by reason of certain riotous lovers,
who for this last summer have very much infested
the streets of that eminent city, with violins and
bass-viols, between the hours of 12 and 4 in the
morning, to the great disturbance of many of her
Majesty's peaceable subjects : And whereas I have
been importuned to publish some edict against those
midnight alarms, which, under the name of serenades,
do greatly annoy many well-disposed persons, not
only in the place above-mentioned, but also in most
of the polite towns of this island : I have taken that
matter into my serious consideration, and do find
that this custom is by no means to be indulged in
this country and climate.
It is indeed very unaccountable, that most of our
British youth should take such great delight in these
nocturnal expeditions. Your robust true-born Bri-
ton, that has not yet felt the force of flames and
darts, has a natural inclination to break windows ;
58 TATLER. NO 222.
while those whose natural ruggedness has been
soothed and softened by gentle passions, have as
strong a propensity to languish under them, espe-
cially if they have a fiddler behind them to utter
their complaints ; for, as the custom prevails at pre-
sent, there is scarce a young man of any fashion in
a corporation, who does not make love with the
town-music. The Waits often help him through his
courtship ; and my friend Banister * has told me,
he was proffered five hundred pounds by a young
fellow, to play but one winter under the window of
a lady, that was a great fortune, but more cruel
than ordinary. One would think they hoped to
conquer their mistresses hearts as people tame hawks
and eagles, by keeping them awake or breaking their
sleep when they are falling into it.
I have endeavoured to search into the original of
this impertinent way of making love, which, accord-
ing to some author's, is of great antiquity. If we
may believe Monsieur Dacier and other critics, Ho-
race's tenth Ode of the third book was originally
a Serenade. And if I was disposed to show my
learning, I could produce a line of him in another
place, which seems to have been the burden of an
old heathen Serenade.
Audis minus, et minus jam,
" Me tuo longas pereunte noctes,
" Lydia, dor mis f" HOR. 1 Od. xxv. 8.
Now less and less assail thine ear
These plaints, " Ah ! steepest thou, my dear,
" While I, whole nights, thy True-love here
" Am dying?"
FRANCIS.
But notwithstanding the opinions of many learned
men upon this subject, I rather agree with them
* Mr. John Banister, a composer, and at the htad of the
band in Drury lane.
NO 232. TATLER. 59
who look upon this custom, as now practised, to have
been introduced by castrated musicians ; who found
out this method of applying themselves to their mis-
tresses at these hours, when men of hoarser voices
express their passions in a more vulgar method.
It must be confessed, that your Italian eunuchs do
practise this manner of courtship to this day.
But whoever were the persons that first thought
of the serenade, the authors of all countries are una-
nimous in ascribing the invention to Italy.
There are two circumstances, which qualified that
country above all others for this midnight music.
The first I shall mention was the softness of their
climate.
This gave the lover opportunities of being abroad
in the air, or of lying upon the earth whole hours
together, without fear of damps or dews ; but as for
our tramontane lovers, when they begin their mid-
night complaint with,
My lodging upon the cold ground is,
we are not to understand them in the rigour of the
letter ; since it would be impossible for a British
swain to condole himself long in that situation, with-
out dying for his mistress. A man might as well
serenade in Greenland as in our region. Milton
seems to have had in his thoughts the absurdity of
these Northern Serenades, in the censure which he
passes upon them:
Or midnight ball,
Or Serenade, which the starv'd lover sings
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.
The truth of it is, I have often pitied, in a winter
night, a vocal musician, and have attributed many
of his trills and quaven to the coldness of the
weather.
60 TATI.ER. NO 222.
The second circumstance which inclined the Ita-
lians to this custom, was that musical genius which
is so universal among them. Nothing is more fre-
quent in that country, than to hear a cobler work-
ing to an opera-tune. You can scarce see a porter
that has not one nail much longer than the rest,
which you will find upon inquiry, is cherished for
some instrument. In short, there is not a labourer,
or handicraft-man, that in the cool of the evening
does not relieve himself with solos and sonatas.
The Italian soothes his mistress with a plaintive
voice ; and bewails himself in such melting music,
that the whole neighbourhood sympathizes with him
in his sorrow.
Quulis populed mcerens Philomela sub umbrd
Flet noctem, ramoque tedens, miserabile carmen
Integral, et meestis late loca questibus implet.
VIRG. Georg. iv. 51 1.
Thus Philomel beneath the poplar shade
With plaintive murmurs warbles through the glade
Her notes harmonious tedious nights prolong,
And Echo multiplies the mournful song.
R. WYNNE.
On the contrary, our honest countrymen have so
little an inclination to music, that they seldom begin
to sing until they are drunk ; which also is usually
the time when they are most disposed to serenade.
N 223. TATLER. 61
N223. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1710.
For when upon their ungot heirs,
Th' entail themselves and all that's theirs,
What blinder bargain e'er was driv'n,
Or wager laid at six and seven,
To pass themselves away, and turn
Their children's tenants ere they 're born ? HUD.
From my own Apartment, September 1 1 .
I HAVE been very much solicited by Clarinda,
Flavia, and Lysetta, to re-assume my discourse
concerning the methods of disposing honourably the
unmarried part of the world, and taking off those
bars to it, jointures and settlements ; which are not
only the greatest impediments towards entering into
that state, but also the frequent causes- of distrust
and animosity in it after it is consummated. I have
with very much attention considered this case ; and
among all the observations that I have made through
a long course of years, I have thought the coldness
of wives to their husbands, as well as disrespect
from children- to parents, to arise from this one
source. This trade for minds and bodies in the
lump, without regard to either, but as they are ac-
companied with such sums of money, and such
parcels of land, cannot but produce a commerce be-
tween the parties concerned, suitable to the mean
motives upon which they at first came together. I
have heretofore given an account, that this method
of making settlements was first invented by a
griping lawyer, who made use of the covetous tem-
VOL. v. c
6$ TATLKR. NO 223.
pers of the parents of each side, to force two young
people into these vile measures of diffidence, for no
other end but to increase the skins of parchment, by
which they were put into each other's possession out
of each other's power. The law of our country has
given an ample and generous provision for the wife,
even the third of her husband's estate, and left to
her good-humour and his gratitude the expectation
of further provision ; but the fantastical method of
going further, with relation to their heirs, has a
foundation in nothing but pride and folly : for as all
men wish their children as like themselves, and as
much better as they can possibly, it seems monstrous
that we should .give out of ourselves the opportu-
nities of rewarding and discouraging them according
to their deserts. This wise institution has no more
sense in it, than if a man should begin a deed with,
" Whereas no man living knows how long he shall
continue to be a living creature, or an honest man.
And whereas I jB. am going to enter into the state of
matrimony with Mrs. D. therefore I shall from
henceforth make it indifferent to me whether from
this time forward I shall be a fool or a knave. And
therefore, in full and perfect health of body, and a
sound mind, not knowing which of my children will
prove better or worse, I give to my first-born, be he
perverse, ungrateful, impious, or cruel, the lump
and bulk of my estate ; and leave one year's pur-
chase only to each of my younger children whether
they shall be brave or beautiful, modest or honour-
able, from the time of the date hereof, wherein I
resign my senses, and hereby promise to employ
my judgment no further in the distribution of my
worldly goods from the day of the date hereof;
hereby further confessing and covenanting, that I
am from henceforth married, and dead in law."
NO 223. TATLER. 63
There is no man that is conversant in modern set-
tlements, but knows this is an exact translation of
what is inserted in these instruments. Men's pas-
sions could only make them submit to such terms ;
and therefore all unreasonable bargains in marriage
ought to be set aside, as well as deeds extorted from
men under force, or in prison, who are altogether
as much masters of their actions, as he that is pos-
sessed with a violent passion.
How strangely men are sometimes partial to
themselves, appears by the rapine of him that has a
daughter's beauty under his direction. He will
make no scruple of using it to force from her lover
as much of his estate as is worth ten thousand
pounds, and at the same time, as a justice on the
bench, will spare no pains to get a man hanged that
has taken but a horse from him.
It is to be hoped the legislature will in due time
take this kind of robbery into consideration, and not
suffer men to prey upon each other when they are
about making the most solemn league, and entering
into the strictest bonds. The only sure remedy is,
to fix a certain rate on every woman's fortune ; one
price for that of a maid, and another for that of a
widow : for it is of infinite advantage, that there
should be no frauds or uncertainties in the sale of
our women.
If any man should exceed the settled rate, he
ought to be at liberty after seven years are over, by
which time his love may be supposed to abate a
little, if it is not founded upon reason, to renounce
the bargain, and be freed from the settlement upon
restoring the portion; as a youth married under
fourteen years old may be off, if he pleases, when
he comes to age, and as a man is discharged from
all bargains but that of marriage, made when he is
under twenty-one.
64 TATLER. NO
It grieves me when I consider, that these re-
straints upon matrimony take away the advantage
we should otherwise have over other countries,
which are sunk much by those great checks upon
propagation, the convents. It is thought chiefly
owing to these, that Italy and Spain want above half
their complement of people. Were the price of
wives always fixed and settled, it would contribute
to filling the nation more than all the encourage-
ments that can possibly be given to foreigners to
transplant themselves hither.
I therefore, as censor of Britain, until a law is
made, will lay down rules which shall be observed,
with penalty of degrading all that break them, into
Pretty Fellows, Smarts, Squibs, Hunting -Horns,
Drums, and Bagpipes.
The females that are guilty of breaking my or-
ders, I shall respectively pronounce to be Kits,
Hornpipes, Dulcimers, and Kettle-drums. Such wi-
dows as wear the spoils of one husband, I will bury,
if they attempt to rob another.
I ordain, That no woman ever demand one shil-
ling to be paid after her husband's death, more than
the very sum she brings him, or an equivalent for it
in land.
That no settlement be made, in which the man
settles on his children more than the reversion of the
jointure, or the value of it in money; so that at his
death, he may in the whole be bound to pay his fa-
mily but double to what he has received. I would
have the eldest, as well as the rest, have his provi-
sion out of this.
When men are not able to come up to those set-
tlements I have proposed, I would have them re-
ceive so much of the portion only as they can come
up to, and the rest to go to the woman by way of
NO 223. TATLER. 65
pin-money, or separate maintenance. In this, I
think, I determine equally between the two sexes.
If any lawyer varies from these rules, or is above
two days in drawing a marriage-settlement, or uses
more words in it than one skin of parchment will
contain, or takes above five-pounds for drawing it,
I would have him thrown over the bar.
Were these rules observed, a woman with a small
fortune, and a great deal of worth, would be sure
to marry according to her deserts, if the man's es-
tate were to be less incumbered, in proportion as
her fortune is less than he might have with others.
A man of a great deal of merit, and not much es-
tate, might be chosen for his worth ; because it
would not be difficult for him to make a settlement.
The man that loves a woman best, would not
lose her for not being able to bid so much as ano-
ther, or for not complying with an extravagant
demand.
A fine woman would no more be set up to auction
as she is now. When a man puts in for her, her
friends or herself take care to publish it ; and the
man that was the first bidder is made no other use
of but to raise the price. He that loves her will
continue in waiting as long as she pleases, if her for-
tune be thought equal to his ; and, under pretence
of some failure in the rent-roll, or difficulties in
drawing the settlement, "he is put off until a better
bargain is made with another.
All the rest of the sex, that are not rich or beau-
tiful to the highest degree, are plainly gainers, and
would be married so fast, that the least charming of
them would soon grow beauties to the bachelors.
Widows might be easily married, if they would
not, as they do now, set up for discreet, only by
being mercenary.
G2
66 TATLER. NO 224.
The making matrimony cheap and easy would be
the greatest discouragement to vice : the limiting
the expence of children would not make men ill
inclined, or afraid of having them in a regular way ;
and the men of merit would not live unmarried, as
they often do now, because the goodness of a wife
cannot be insured to them ; but the loss of an estate
is certain, and a man would never have the af-
fliction of a worthless heir added to that of a bad
wife.
I am the more serious, large, and particular on
this subject, because my Lucubrations, designed
for the encouragement of virtue, cannot have the
desired success as long as this incumbrance of set-
tlements continues upon matrimony.
N> 224. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1710.
Materiam superabat opus.
OVID. Met. ii. 5.
The matter equall'd not the artist's skill.
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, September 13.
IT is my custom, in a dearth of news, to entertain
myself with those collections of advertisements that
appear at the end of all our public prints. These I
consider as accounts of news from the little world,
in the same manner that the foregoing parts of the
NO 224. TATLER. 67.
paper are from the great. If in one we hear that a
sovereign prince is fled from his capital city, in the
other we hear of a tradesman who hath shut up his
shop, and run away. If in one we find the victory
of a general, in the other we see the desertion of a
private soldier. I must confess I have a certain
weakness in my temper, that4s often very much af-
fected by these little domestic occurrences, and
have frequently been caught with tears in my eyes
over a melancholy advertisement.
But to consider this subject in its most ridiculous
lights, advertisements are of great use to the vulgar.
First of all, as they are instruments of ambition. A
man that is by no means big enough for the Gazette,
may easily creep into the advertisements ; by which
means we often see an apothecary in the same paper
of news with a plenipotentiary, or a running-foot-
man with an ambassador. An advertisement from
Piccadilly goes down to posterity with an article
from Madrid, and John Bartlett* of Goodman's-
fields is celebrated in the same paper with the em-
peror of Germany. Thus the fable tells us, that the
wren mounted as high as the eagle, by getting upon
his back.
A second use which this sort of writings hath
been turned to of late years, has been the manage-
ment of controversy : insomuch that above half the
advertisements one meets with now-a-days are
purely polemical. The inventors of " Strops for
razors" have written against one another this way
for several years, and that with great bitterness ; as
the whole argument pro and con in the case of
" the morning gown" is still carried on after the
same manner. I need not mention the several pro-
* A truss-maker.
68 TATLER. % N224.
prietors of Dr. Anderson's pills ; nor take notice of
the many satirical works of this nature so frequently
published by Dr. Clark, who has the confidence
to advertise upon that learned knight, my very wor-
thy friend, Sir William Read: but I shall not in-
terpose in their quarrel : Sir William can give him
his own in advertisements, that, in the judgment of
the impartial, are as well penned as the doctor's.
The third and last use of these writings is to in-
form the world, where they may be furnished with
almost every thing that is necessary for life. If a
man has pains in his head, colics in his bowels, or
spots in his cloaths, he may here meet with proper
cures and remedies. If a man would recover a wife
or a horse that is stolen or strayed ; if he wants new
sermons, electuaries, asses milks, or any thing else,
either for his body or mind ; this is the place to look
for them in.
The great art in writing advertisements, is the
finding out a proper method to catch the reader's eye,
without which a good thing may pass over unob-
served, or be lost among commissions of bankrupts.
Asterisks and hands were formerly of great use for
this purpose. Of late years the N. B. has been
much in fashion, as also little cuts or figures, the
invention of which we must ascribe to the author of
spring-trusses. I must not here omit the blind
Italian character, which, being scarce legible, al-
ways fixes and detains the eye, and gives the curious
reader something like the satisfaction of prying into
a secret.
But the great skill in an advertiser is chiefly seen
in the style which he makes use of. He is to
mention " the universal esteem, or general repu-
tation," of things that were never heard of. If he is
a physician or astrologei; he must chajige his
NO 224. TATLER, fi9;
lodgings frequently ; and, though he never saw any
body in them besides his own family, give public
notice of it, " for the information of the nobility
and gentry." Since I am thus usefully employed in
writing criticisms on the works of these diminutive
authors, I must not pass over in silence an adver-
tisement, which has lately made its appearance,
and is written altogether in a Ciceronian manner.
It was sent to me, with five shillings, to be inserted
among my advertisements ; but as it is a pattern of
good writing in this way, I shall give it a place in
the body of my paper.
" The highest compounded spirit of lavender,
the most glorious, if the expression may be used,
enlivening scent and flavour that can possibly be,
which so raptures the spirits, delights the gust,
and gives such airs to the countenance, as are not
to be imagined but by those that have tried it. The
meanest sort of the thing is admired by most gentle-
men and ladies; but this far more, as by far it ex-
ceeds it, to the gaining among all a more than com-
mon esteem. It is sold, in neat flint bottles fit for
the pocket, only at the golden Key in Wharton's
Court, near Holborn-bars, for three shillings and
six-pence, with directions."
At the same time that I recommend the several
flowers in which this spirit of lavender is wrapped
up, if the expression may be used, I cannot excuse
my fellow-labourers for admitting into their papers
several uncleanly advertisements, not at all proper
to appear in the works of polite writers. Among
these I must reckon the " Carminative Wind-
expelling Pills." If the doctor had called them only
his Carminative Pills, he had been as cleanly as one
could have wished; but the second word entirely
destroys the decency of the first. There are other:
TO TATLER. NO 224.
absurdities of this nature so very gross, that I dare
not mention them ; and shall therefore dismiss this
subject with a public admonition to Michael Parrot,
that he do not presume any more to mention a cer-
tain worm he knows of, which, by the way, ha
grown seven feet in my memory ; for, if I am not
much mistaken, it is the same that was but nine
feet long about six months ago.
By the remarks I have here made, it plainly ap-
pears, that a collection of advertisements is a kind
of miscellany ; the writers of which, contrary to all
authors, excepting men of quality, give money to
the booksellers who publish their copies. The genius
of the bookseller is chiefly shewn in his method of
ranging and digesting these little tracts. The last
paper I took up in my hand places them in the fol-
lowing order.
The true Spanish blacking for shoes, &c.
Pease and plasters, &c.
Nectar and Ambrosia, &c.
Four freehold tenements of fifteen pounds per
annnm, &o.
Annotations upon the Tatler, &c.
The present state of England, &c.
A commission of bankruptcy being awarded against
B. L. bookseller, &c.
NO 225. TATLER. 71
N225. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1?10.
Si quid novisti rectiut ittis,
Candidas imperti ; si non, his utere mecwm.
HOR. 1 Ep. vi. 67.
If a better system's thine,
impart it frankly ; or make use of mine.
FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, September 15.
THE hours which we spend in conversation are the
most pleasing of any which we enjoy ; yet, me-
thinks, there is very little care taken to improve
ourselves for the frequent repetition of them. The
common fault in this case is that of growing too in-
timate, and falling into displeasing familiarities ;
for it is a very ordinary thing for men to make no
other use of a close acquaintance with each other's
affairs, but to teaze one another with unacceptable
allusions. One would pass over patiently such as
converse like animals, and salute each other with
bangs on the shoulder, sly raps with canes, or other
robust pleasantries practised by the rural gentry of
this nation : but even among those who should have
more polite ideas of things, you see a set of people
who invert the design of conversation, and make
frequent mention of ungrateful subjects ; nay, men-
tion them because they are ungrateful; as if the
perfection of society were in knowing how to offend
on the one part, and how to bear an offence on the
other. In all parts of this populous town, you find
62 TATLKR. NO 225.
the merry world made up of an active and a passive
companion; one who has good nature enough to
suffer all his friend shall think fit to say, and one
who is resolved to make the most of his good-
humour to show his parts. In the trading part of
mankind, I have ever observed the jest went by the
weight of purses, and the ridicule is made up by the
gains which arise from it. Thus the packer allows
the clothier to say what he pleases ; and the broker
has his countenance ready to laugh with the mer-
chant, though the abuse is to fall on himself, be-
cause he knows that, as a go-between, he shall find
his account in being in the good graces of a man of
wealth. Among these just and punctual people the
richest man is ever the better jester ; and they know
no such thing as a person who shall pretend to a su-
perior laugh at a man, who does not make him
amends by opportunities of advantage in another
kind ; but among people of a different way, where
the pretended distinction in company is only what is
raised from sense and understanding, it is very ab-
surd to carry on a rough raillery so far, as that the
whole discourse should turn upon each other's in-
firmities, follies, or misfortunes.
I was this evening with a set of wags of this class.
They appear generally by two and two ; and what is
most extraordinary, is, that those very persons who
are most together appear least of a mind when
joined by other company. This evil proceeds from
an indiscreet familiarity, whereby a man is allowed
to say the most grating thing imaginable to another,
and it shall be accounted weakness to show an im-
patience for the unkindness. But this and all other
deviations from the -design of pleasing each other
when we meet, are derived from interlopers in so-
ciety ; who want capacity to put in a stock among
regular companions, and therefore supply their wants
XO 225. TATLER. 73
by stale histories, sly observations, and rude hints,
which relate to the conduct of others. All coha-
bitants in general run into this unhappy fault ; men
and their wives break ,into reflections, which are
like so much Arabic to the rest of the company ;
sisters and brothers often make the like figure,
from the same unjust sense of the art of being inti-
mate and familiar. It is often said, such a one
cannot stand the mention of such a circumstance ;
if he cannot, I am sure it is for want of discourse,
or a worse reason, that any companion of his touches
upon it.
Familiarity, among the truly well-bred, never
gives authority to trespass upon another in the
most minute circumstance ; but it allows to be
kinder than we ought otherwise to presume to be.
Eusebius has wit, humour, and spirit ; but there
never was a man in his company who wished he
had less ; for he understands familiarity so well,
that he knows how to make use of it in a way that
neither makes himself or his friend contemptible ;
but if any one is lessened by his freedom, it is he
himself, who always likes the place, the diet, and
the reception, when he is in the company of his
friends. Equality is the life of conversation ; and
he is as much out who assumes to himself any part
above another, as he who considers himself below
the rest of the society. Familiarity in inferiors is
sauciness ; in superiors, condescension ; neither of
which are to have being among companions, the
very word implying that they are to be equal.
When, therefore, we have abstracted the company
from all considerations of their quality or fortune, it
will immediately appear, that to make it happy and
polite, there must nothing be started which shall
discover that our thoughts run upon any such dis-
tinctions. Hence it will arise, that benevolence
VOL. v. H
74 TATLER. NO $J25.
must become the rule of society, and he that is most
obliging must be most diverting.
This way of talking I am fallen into from the re-
flection that I am, wherever I go, entertained with
some absurdity, mistake, weakness, or ill-luck of
some man or other, whom not only I, but the per-
son who makes me those relations, has a value for.
It would therefore be a great benefit to the world,
if it could be brought to pass, that no story should
be a taking one, but what was to the advantage of
the person of whom it is related. By this means, he
that is now a wit in conversation, would be consi-
dered as a spreader of false news is in business.
But above all, to make a familiar fit for a bosom
friend, it is absolutely necessary that we should al-
ways be inclined rather to hide than rally each
others infirmities. To suffer for a fault is a sort of
atonement ; and no body is concerned for the offence
for which he has made reparation.
P. S. I have received the following letter, which
rallies me for being witty sooner than I designed ;
but I have now altered my resolution, and intend to
be facetious until the day in October heretofore men-
tioned, instead of beginning from that day.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF, Sept. 6, 1710.
" By your own reckoning, you came yesterday
about a month before the time you looked yourself,
much to the satisfaction of
Your most obliged, humble servant,
PLAIN ENGLISH."
St. James's Coffee-house, September 15.
Advices from Madrid of the eighth say, the duke
of Anjou, with his court, and all the councils, were
preparing to leave that place in a day or two, in order
to remove to Valladolid. They add, that the palace
was already unfurnished.
NO 226. TATLER. 7 5
N 226. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1710.
Juvenis quondam, nunc femina, Caneus,
Rursus ft in veterem fato revoluta fignram.
VIRG. .(En. vi. *48.
Caeneus, a woman once, and once a man ;
But ending in the sex she first began. DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, September 18.
IT is one of the designs of this paper to transmit to
posterity an account of any thing that is monstrous
in my own times. For this reason, I shall here pub-
lish to the world the life of a person who was neither
man nor woman ; as written by one of my ingenious
correspondents, who seems to have imitated Plu-
tarch in that multifarious erudition, and those occa-
sional dissertations, which he has wrought into the
body of his history. The life I am putting out is that
of Margery, alias John Young, commonly known by
the name of Doctor Young ; who, as the town very
well knows, was a woman that practised physic in a
man's cloaths, and, after having had two wives, and
several children, died about a month since.
" SIR,
" I here make bold to trouble you with a short
account of the famous Doctor Young's life, which
you may call, if you please, a second part of the
farce of the Sham Doctor. This perhaps will not
seem so strange to you, who, if I am not mistaken,
have somewhere mentioned with honour your sister
76 TATLER. NO 226.
Kirleus, as a practitioner both in physic and astro-
logy ; but, in the common opinion of mankind, a
she-quack is altogether as strange and astonishing a
creature, as the Centaur that practised physic in the
days of Achilles, or as king Phys in the Rehearsal.
^Esculapius, the great founder of your art, was par-
ticularly famous for his beard, as we may conclude
from the behaviour of a tyrant, who is branded by
heathen historians as guilty both of sacrilege and
blasphemy; having robbed the statue of ^Escu-
lapius of a thick bushy golden beard, and then al-
leged for his excuse, That it was a shame the son
should have a beard, when his father Apollo had
none. This latter instance, indeed, seems something
to favour a female professor, since, as I have been
told, the antient statues of Apollo are generally
made with the head and face of a woman : nay,
I have been credibly informed by those who have
seen them both, that the famous Apollo, in the
Belvidera, did very much resemble Doctor Young.
Let that be as it will, the Doctor was a kind of
Amazon in physic, that made as great devastations
and slaughters as any of our chief heroes in the
art, and was as fatal to the English in these our days,
as the famous Joan d'Arc was in those of our fore-
fathers.
" I do not find any thing remarkable in the life
which I am about to write till the year 1695; at
which time the Doctor, being about twenty-three
years old, was brought to-bed of a bastard-child.
The scandal of such a misfortune gave so great an
uneasiness to pretty Mrs. Peggy, for that was the
name by which the Doctor was then called, that
she left her family, and followed her lover to Lon-
don, with a fixed resolution, some way or other, to
recover her lost reputation : but instead of changing
her life, which one would have expected from so
NO 226. TATLEft. Tf
good a disposition of mind, she took it in her head
to change her sex. This was soon done by the help of
a sword and a pair of breeches. I have reason to
believe that her first design was to turn man-mid-
wife, having herself had some experience in those
affairs : but thinking this too narrow a foundation
for her future fortune, she at length bought her a
gold-buttoned coat, and set up for a physician. Thus
we see the same fatal miscarriage in her youth made
Mrs. Young a Doctor, that formerly made one of
the same sex a Pope.
" The Doctor succeeded very well in his business
at first ; but very often met with accidents that dis-
quieted him. As he wanted that deep magisterial
voice which gives authority to a prescription, and
is absolutely necessary for the right pronouncing of
these words, ' Take these pills,' he unfortunately
got the nick-name of the Squeaking Doctor. If
this circumstance alarmed the Doctor, there was
another which gave him no small disquiet, and very
much diminished his gains. In short, he found him-
self run down as a superficial prating quack, in all
families that had at the head of them a cautious
father, or a jealous husband. These would often
complain, one among another, that they did not like
such a smock-faced physician ; though in truth, had
they known how justly he deserved that name, they
would rather have favoured his practice, than have
apprehended any thing from it.
" Such were the motives that determined Mrs.
Young to change her condition, and take in mar-
riage a virtuous young woman, who lived with her
in good reputation, and made her the father of a
very pretty girl. But this part of her happiness was
soon after destroyed, by a distemper which was too
hard for our physician, and carried off his first wife.
The Doctor had not been a widow long before he
78 TATLER. NO 226'.
married his second lady, with whom also he lived
in very good understanding. It so happened, that
the Doctor was with child at the same time that his
lady was ; but the little ones coming both together,
they passed for twins. The Doctor having entirely
established the reputation of his manhood, espe-
cially by the birth of the boy of whom he had been
lately delivered, and who very much resembles him,
grew into good business, and was particularly
famous for the cure of venereal distempers ; but
would have had much more practice among his own
sex, had not some of them been so unreasonable as
to demand certain proofs of their cure, which the
Doctor was not able to give them. The florid
blooming look, which gave, the Doctor some unea-
siness at first, instead of betraying his person, only
recommended his physic. Upon this occasion I
cannot forbear mentioning what I thought a very
agreeable surprise ; in one of Moliere's plays,
where a young woman applies herself to a sick
person in the habit of a quack, and speaks to her
patient, who was something scandalized at the
youth of his physician, to the following purpose
I began to practise in the reign of Francis the
First, and am now in the hundred and fiftieth
year of my age ; but, by the virtue of my medi-
caments, have maintained myself in the same
beauty and freshness I had at fifteen. For this
reason Hippocrates lays it down as a rule, that a
student in .physic should have a sound constitution,
and a healthy look ; which indeed seem as neces-
sary qualifications for a physician, as a good life
and virtuous behaviour for a divine. But to return
to our subject. About two years ago the Doctor
was very much afflicted with the vapours, which
grew upon him to such a degree, that about six
.weeks since they made an end of him. His death
N<> 226. TATLER. 79
discovered the disguise he had acted under, and
brought him back again to his former sex. It is
said, that at his burial the pall was held up by six
women of some fashion. The Doctor left behind
him a widow, and two fatherless children, if they
may be called so, besides the little boy before-
mentioned. In relation to whom we may say of
the Doctor, as the good old ballad about The Chil-
dren -in the Wood says of the unnatural uncle, that
he was father and mother both in one. These are
all the circumstances that I could learn of Doctor
Young's life, which might have given occasion to
many obscene fictions : but as I know those would
never have gained a place in your Paper, I have not
troubled you with any impertinence of that nature,
having stuck to the truth very scrupulously, as I
always do when I subscribe myself, Sir,
Yours, &c.
I shall add, as a postscript to this letter, that I
am informed the famous Saltero, who sells coffee
in his- museum at Chelsea, has by him a curiosity,
which helped the Doctor to carry on his impos-
ture, and will give great satisfaction to the curious
inquirer.
80 TATLER. NO 22*.
NO 227. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 171O.
Omnibus invideas, Zoile, nemo till. MARTIAL.
Thou envy'st all; but no man envies thee.
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, September 20.
IT is the business of reason and philosophy to soothe
and allay the passions of the mind, or turn them to
a vigorous prosecution of what is dictated by the
understanding. In order to this good end, I would
keep a watchful eye upon the growing inclinations of
youth, and be particularly careful to prevent their
indulging themselves in such sentiments as may
imbitter their more advanced age. I have now
under cure a young gentleman, who lately commu-
nicated to me, that he was of all men living the
most miserably envious. I desired the circum-
stances of his distemper : upon which, with a sigh
that would have moved the most inhuman breast,
" Mr. Bickerstaff," said he, " I am nephew to a
gentleman of very great estate, to whose favour I
have a cousin that has equal pretensions with my-
self. This kinsman of mine is a young man of the
highest merit imaginable, and has a mind so tender,
and so generous, that I can observe he returns my
envy with pity. He makes me, upon all occasions,
the most obliging condescensions : and I cannot but
take notice of the concern he is in, to see my life
blasted with this racking passion, though it is against
himself. In the presence of my uncle, when I am
N 227. TATLER. 81
in the room, he never speaks so well as he is capable
of; but always lowers his talents and accomplish-
ments out of regard to me. What I beg of you.
dear Sir, is to instruct me how to love him, as I
know he does me : and I beseech you, if possible, to
set my heart right ; that it may no longer be tor-
mented where it should be pleased, or hate a man
whom I cannot but approve."
The patient gave me this account with such can-
dour and openness, that I conceived immediate
hopes of his cure ; because, in diseases of the
mind, the person affected is half recovered when
he is sensible of his distemper. " Sir," said I, " the
acknowledgment of your kinsman's merit is a very
hopeful symptom ; for it is the nature of persons af-
flicted with this evil, when they are incurable, to
pretend a contempt of the person envied, if they
are taxed with that weakness. A man who is
really envious will not allow he is so ; but, upon
such an accusation, is tormented with the reflection,
that to envy a man is to allow him your superior.
But in your case, when you examine the bottom of
your heart, I am apt to think it is avarice, which
you mistake for envy. Were it not that you have
both expectations from the same man, you would
look upon your cousin's accomplishments with plea-
sure. You, that now consider him as an obstacle
to your interest, would then behold him as an orna-
ment to your family." I observed my patient upon
this occasion recover himself in some measure ; and
he owned to me, that " he hoped it was as I ima-
gined ; for that in all places, but where he was his
rival, he had pleasure in his company." This was
the first discourse we had upon this malady ; but I
do not doubt but, after two or three more, I shall,
by just degrees, soften his envy into emulation.
Such an envy, as I have here described, may
82 TATJJER. - NO
possibly enter into an ingenuous mind ; but the
envy which makes a man uneasy to himself and
others, is a certain distortion and perverseness of
temper, that renders him unwilling to be pleased
with any thing without him, that has either beauty
or perfection in it. I look upon it as a distemper in
the mind, which I know no moralist that has de-
scribed in this light, when a man cannot discern
any thing, which another is master of, that is agree-
able. For which reason, I look upon the good-
natured man to be endowed with a certain discern-
ing faculty, which the envious are altogether de-
prived of. Shallow wits, superficial critics, and
conceited fops, are with me so many blind men in
respect of excellencies. They can behold nothing
but faults and blemishes, and indeed see nothing
that is worth seeing. Show them a poem, it is
stuff; a picture, it is daubing. They find nothing
in architecture that is not irregular, or in music that
is not out of tune. These men should consider
that it is their envy which deforms every thing, and
that the ugliness is not in the object, but in the eye.
And as for nobler minds, whose merits are either
not discovered, or are misrepresented by the en-
vious part of mankind, they should rather consider
their defamers with pity than indignation. A man
cannot have an idea of perfection in another, which
he was never sensible of in himself. Mr. Locke
tells us, " That upon asking a blind man, what he
thought scarlet was ? he answered, That he believed
it was like the sound of a trumpet." He was forced
to form his conceptions of ideas which he had not,
by those which he had. In the same manner, ask
an envious man what he thinks of virtue ? he will
call it design : what of good nature ? and he will
term it dulness. The difference is, that as the
person before-mentioned was born blind, your en-
NO 228. TATLER. 83
vious men have contracted the distemper them-
selves, and are troubled with a sort of an acquired
blindness. Thus the devil in Milton, though made
an angel of light, could see nothing to please him
even in Paradise, and hated our first parents, though
in their state of innocence.
N 228. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1710.
Veniet manus, auxilio qua
Sit mihi
HOR. 1 Sat. iv. 141.
A powerful aid from other hands will come.
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, September 22.
A MAN of business, who makes a public entertain-
ment, may sometimes leave his guests, and beg
them to divert themselves as well as they can until
his return. I shall here make use of the same pri-
vilege, being engaged in matters of some impor-
tance relating to the family of the Bickerstaffs, and
must desire my readers to entertain one another
until I can have leisure to attend them. I have
therefore furnished out this paper, as I have done
"some few others, with letters of my ingenious cor-
respondents, which, I have reason to believe, will
please the public as much as my own more ela-
borate Lucubrations.
84 TATLER. N 228.
" SIR, Lincoln, Sept. 9.
" I have long been of the number of your ad-
mirers, and take this opportunity of telling you so.
I know not why a man so famed for astrological
observations may not be also a good casuist ; upon
which presumption it is I ask your advice in an
affair, that at present puzzles quite that slender
stock of divinity I am master of. I have now been
some time in holy orders, and fellow of a certain
college in one of the universities ; but, weary of
that unactive life, I resolve to be doing good in my
generation. A worthy gentleman has lately offered
me a fat rectory ; but means, I perceive, his kins-
woman should have the benefit of the clergy. I am
a novice in the world, and confess it startles me,
how the body of Mrs. Abigail can be annexed to the
cure of souls. Sir, would you give us, in one of
your Tatlers, the original and progress of smock-
simony, and show us, that where the laws are silent,
men's consciences ought to be so too, you could not
more oblige our fraternity of young divines, and
among the rest,
Your humble servant,
HIGH-CHURCH."
I am very proud of having a gentleman of this
name for my admirer, and may, some time or other,
write such a treatise as he mentions. In the mean
time, I do not see why our clergy, who are fre-
quently men of good families, should be reproached,
if any of them chance to espouse a hand-maid with
a rectory in commendam, since the best of our
peers have often joined themselves to the daughters
of very ordinary tradesmen, upon the same valuable
considerations.
N 228. TATLER. 85
" Globe in Moorfalds, Sept. 16.
" HONOURED SIR,
" I have now finished my almanack for the next
year, in all the parts of it, except that which con-
cerns the weather ; and you having shown yourself,
by some of your late works, more weatherwise than
any of our astrologers, I most humbly presume to
trouble you upon this head. You know very well,
that in our ordinary almanacks the wind and rain,
snow and hail, clouds and sunshine, have their pro-
per seasons, and come up as regularly in their several
months as the fruits and plants of the earth. As
for my own part, I freely own to you, that I gene-
rally steal my weather out of some antiquated alma-
nack, that foretold it several years ago. Now, Sir,
what I humbly beg of you is, that you would lend
me your State weather-glass, in order to fill up this
vacant column in my works. This, I know, would
sell my almanack beyond any other, and make me
a richer man than Poor Robin. If you will not
grant me this favour, I must have recourse to my
old method, and will copy from an old almanack
which I have by me, and which I think was for the
year when the great storm was.
I am, Sir,
The most humble of your admirers,
T. PHILOMATH."
This gentleman does not consider, what a strange
appearance his almanack would make to the igno-
rant, should he transpose his weather, as he must do,
did he follow the dictates of my glass. What would
the world say to see summers filled with clouds and
storms, and winters with calms and sunshine ; ac-
cording to the variations of the weather, as they
might accidentally appear in a State-barometer ? But
VOL. v. i
86 TATLER. NO 228.
let that be as it will, I shall apply my own invention
to my own use ; and if I do not make my fortune by
it, it will be my own fault.
The next letter comes to me from another self-
interested solicitor.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" I am going to set up for a Scrivener, and have
thought of a project which may turn both to your
account and mine. It came into my head, upon
reading that learned and useful paper of your's con-
cerning advertisements. You must understand, I
have made myself master in the whole art of ad-
vertising, both as to the style and the letter. Now
if you and I could so manage it, that nobody should
write advertisements besides myself, or print them
any where but in your paper, we might both of us
get estates in a little time. For this end I would
likewise propose, that you should enlarge the de-
sign of advertisements, and have sent you two or
three samples of my work in this kind, which I
have made for particular friends, and intend to open
shop with. The first is for a gentleman, who
would willingly marry, if he could find a wife to
his liking ; the second is for a poor whig, who is
lately turned out of his post ; and the third for a
person of a contrary party, who is willing to get
into one."
" Whereas A. B. next door to the Pestle and
Mortar, being about 30 years old, of a spare make,
with dark-coloured hair, bright eye, and a long nose,
has occasion for a good-humoured, tall, fair, young
woman, of about 3OOO/. fortune ; these are to
give notice, that if any such young woman has a
mind to dispose of herself in marriage to such a per-
son as the abovementioned, she may be provided
NO 229. TATLER. 87
with a husband, a coach and horses, and proportion-
able settlement."
" C. D. designing to quit his place, has great
quantities of paper, parchment, ink, wax, and wa-
fers, to dispose of, which will be sold at very rea-
sonable rates."
" E. F. a person of good behaviour, six feet high,
of a black complexion, and sound principles, wants
an employ. He is an excellent penman and ac-
comptant, and speaks French."
N 9 229. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1710.
Qutesiiam meritis sume superbiam.
HOR. 3 Od. xxx 13.
With conscious pride
Assume the honours justly thine.
FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, September 25.
THE whole creation preys upon itself. Every living
creature is inhabited. A flea has a thousand invisi-
ble insects that teaze him as he jumps from place to
place, and revenge our quarrels upon him. A very
ordinary microscope shews us, that a louse is itself
a very lousy creature. A whale, besides those seas
and oceans in the several vessels of his body, which
are filled with innumerable shoals of little animals,
carries about him a whole world of inhabitants ; in-
somuch that, if we believe the calculations some
88 TATLER. NO 229.
have made, there are more living creatures, which
are too small for the naked eye to behold, about the
Leviathan, than there are of visible creatures upon
the face of the whole earth. Thus every nobler crea-
ture 13, as it were, the basis and support of multi-
tudes that are his inferiors.
This consideration very much comforts me, when
I think on those numberless vermin that feed upon
this paper, and find their sustenance out of it ; I
mean the small wits and scribblers, that every day
turn a penny by nibbling at my Lucubrations. This
has been so advantageous to this little species of
writers, that, if they do me justice, I may expect to
have my statue erected in Grub-street, as being a
common benefactor to that quarter.
They say, when a fox is very much troubled with
fleas, he goes into the next pool with a little lock of
wool in his mouth, and keeps his body under water
until the vermin get into it ; after which he quits the
wool, and diving, leaves his tormenters to shift for
themselves, and get their livelihood where they can.
I would have these gentlemen take care that I do
not serve them after the same manner ; for though I
have hitherto kept my temper pretty well, it is not
impossible but I may some time or other disappear ;
and what will then become of them ? Should I
lay down my paper, what a famine would there be
among the hawkers, printers, booksellers, and au-
thors ! It would be like Doctor Burgess's dropping
his cloak, with the whole congregation hanging upon
the skirts of it. To enumerate some of these my
doughty antagonists; I was threatened to be an-
swered weekly Tit for Tat ; I was undermined by
the Whisperer; haunted by Tom Brown's Ghost;
scolded at by a Female Toiler; and slandered by
another of the same character, under the title of Ata-
lantis. I have been annotated, retattled, examined^
NO 229. TATLER. 89
and condoled; but it being my standing maxim
never to speak ill of the dead, I shall let these authors
rest in peace ; and take great pleasure in thinking,
that I have sometimes been the means of their get-
ting a belly-full. When I see myself thus surrounded
by such formidable enemies, I often think of the
Knight of the Red Cross in Spenser's " Den of Er-
ror," who, after he has cut off the dragon's head, and
left it wallowing in a flood of ink, sees a thousand
monstrous reptiles making their attempts upon him,
one with many heads, another with none, and all of
them without eyes.
The same so sore annoyed has the Knight,
That, well nigh choaked with the deadly stink,
His forces fail, he can no longer fight ;
Wh'se courage when the fiend perceiv'd to shrink,
She poured forth out of her hellish sink
Her fruitful cursed spawn of serpents small,
Deformed monsters, foul, and black as ink ;
Which swarming all about his legs did crawl,
And him encumbered sore, but could not hurt at all.
As gentle shepherd in sweet even tide,
When ruddy Phrebus gins to welk in west,
High on an hill, his flock to viewen wide,
Marks which do bite their hasty supper best ;
A cloud of cumbrous gnats do him molest,
All striving to enfix their feeble stings,
That from their noyance he no where can rest ;
But with his clownish hands their tender wings
He brusbeth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.
If ever I should want such a fry of little authors
to attend me, I shall think my paper in a very de-
caying condition. They are like ivy about an oak,
which adorns the tree at the same time that it eats
into it ; or like a great man's equipage, that do ho-
nour to the person on whom they feed. For my
part, when I see myself thus attacked, I do not con-
i2
90 TATLER. N 230.
sider my antagonists as malicious, but hungry >'
and therefore am resolved never to take any notice
of them.
As for those who detract from my labours, without
being prompted to it by an empty stomach ; in return
to their censures, I shall take pains to excel, and
never fail to persuade myself, that their enmity is
nothing but their envy or ignorance.
Give me leave to conclude, like an old man, and
a moralist, with a fable.
The owls, bats, and several other birds of night,
were one day got together in a thick shade, where
they abused their neighbours in a very sociable man-
ner. Their satire at last fell upon the sun, whom
they all agreed to be very troublesome, impertinent,
and inquisitive. Upon which the sun, who over-
heard them, spoke to them after this manner. " Gen-
tlemen, I wonder how you dare abuse one that,
you know, could in an instant scorch you up, and
burn every mother's son of you; but the only answer
I shall give you, or the revenge I shall take of you,
is, to ' shine on'."
N 230. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 171O.
FrOm my own Apartment, September 28.
THE following letter has laid before me many great
and manifest evils in the world of letters, which I
had overlooked ; but they open to me a very busy
scene, and it will require no small care and applica-
tion to amend errors which are become so universal.
NO 23O. TATLER. 91
The affectation of politeness is exposed in this epistle
with a great deal of wit and discernment ; so that
whatever discourses I may fall into hereafter upon
the subjects the writer treats of, I shall at present
lay the matter before -the world, without the least
alteration from the words of my correspondent.
" To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esquire.
" SIR,
" There are some abuses among us of great con-
sequence, the refonnation of which is properly your
province ; though as far as I have been conversant
in your papers, you have not yet considered them.
These are, the deplorable ignorance that for some
years hath reigned among our English writers, the
great depravity of our taste, and the continual cor-
ruption of our style. I say nothing here of those
who handle particular sciences, Divinity, Law, Phy-
sic, and the like ; I mean the traders in history,
politics, and the Belles Lettres ; together with those
by whom books are not translated, but as the com-
mon expressions are, done out of French, Latin, or
other language, and made English. I cannot but
observe to you, that until of late years a Grub-street
book was always bound in sheep-skin, with suita-
ble print and paper, the price never above a shilling,
and taken off wholly by common tradesmen or coun-
try pedlars : but now they appear in all sizes and
shapes, and in all places. They are handed about
from lapfuls in every coffee-house to persons of
quality; are shewn in Westminster-hall and the Court
of Requests. You may see them gilt, and in royal
paper of five or six hundred pages, and rated accor-
dingly. I would engage to furnish you with a cata-
logue of English books, published within the compass
of seven years past, which at the first hand would
92 TATLER. NO 230-
cost you a hundred pounds, wherein you shall not
be able to find ten lines together of common gram-
mar or common sense.
" These two evils, ignorance, and want of taste,
have produced a third; I mean the continual corrup-
tion of our English tongue, which, without some
timely remedy, will suffer more by the false refine-
ments of twenty years past, than it hath been im-
proved in the foregoing hundred. And this is what
I design chiefly to enlarge upon, leaving the former
evils to your animadversion.
" But instead of giving you a list of the late re-
finements crept into our language, I here send you
the copy of a letter I received, some time ago, from
a most accomplished person in this way of writing ;
upon which I shall make some remarks. It is in
these terms :
" SIR,
" I Cou'd n't get the things you sent for all about
Town / Ihot to ha come down myself, and then
I'd h' br6t 'urn; but I ha'nt don't, and I believe I
can't do't, that's Pozz Tom begins to gi'nse//airs,
because he's going with the Plenipo's Tis said,
the French king will bnmboozl us agen, which causes
many speculations. The Jacks and others of that
Kidney are very uppish and alert upon't, as you may
see by their Phizzs W ill Hazard has got the
Hipps, having lost to the Tune of five hund'rd pound,
tho' he understands play very well, no Body better.
He has promis't me upon Rep, to leave off play ; but
you know 'tis a weakness he's too apt to give into,
tho' he has as much wit as any man, no Body more.
He has lain incog ever since The Mobb's very
quiet with us now 1 believe you that I banter' 'd
you in my last, like a Country Put 1 shan't leave
town this month, $c."
NO <23O. TATLKR. 93
" This letter is in every point an admirable pat-
tern of the present polite way of writing; nor is it of
less authority for being an epistle. You may gather
every flower in it, with a thousand more of equal
sweetness, from the books, pamphlets, and single
papers offered us every day in the coffee-houses: and
these are the beauties introduced to supply the want
of wit, sense, humour, and learning, which formerly
were looked upon as qualifications for a writer. If
a man of wit, who died forty years ago, were to rise
from the grave on purpose, how would he be able
to read this letter ? and after he had got through
that difficulty, how would he be able to understand
it? The first thing that strikes your eye, is the
breaks at the end of almost every sentence; of which
I know not the use, only that it is a refinement,
and very frequently practised. Then you will ob-
serve the abbreviations and elisions, by which con-
sonants of most obdurate sound are joined together,
without one softening vowel to intervene ; and all
this only to make one syllable of two, directly con-
trary to the example of the Greeks and Romans, alto-
gether of the Gothic strain, and a natural tendency
towards relapsing into barbarity, which delights in
monosyllables, and uniting of mute consonants, as
it is observable in all the Northern languages. And
this is still more visible in the next refinement,
which consists in pronouncing the first syllable in a
word that has many, and dismissing the rest, such
as Phizz, Hipps, Mobb, Pozz, Pep, and many
more, when we are already overloaded with mono-
syllables, which are the disgrace of our language.
Thus we cram one syllable, and cut off the rest, as
the owl fattened her mice after she had bit off their
legs to prevent them from running away ; and if
ours be the same reason for maiming our words, it
will certainly answer the end ; for I am sure no other
D4 TATLER. NO 230.
nation will desire to borrow them. Some words are
hitherto but fairly split, and therefore only in their
way to perfection, as Incog, and Plenipo : but in a
short time, it is to be hoped, they will be further
docked to Inc. and Plan. This reflection has made
me of late years very impatient for a peace, which I
believe would save the lives of many brave words,
as well as men. The war has introduced abundance
of polysyllables, which will never be able to live
many more campaigns, Speculations, Operations,
Preliminaries, Ambassadors, Pallisadoes, Commu-
nication, Circumvallation, Battalions; as numerous
as they are, if they attack us too frequently in our
coffee-houses, we shall certainly put them to flight,
and cut off the rear.
" The third refinement observable in the letter I
send you, consists in the choice of certain words in-
vented by some pretty fellows, such as Banter, Bam-
boozle, Country Put, and Kidney, as it is there ap-
plied; some of which are now struggling for the
vogue, and others are in possession of it. I have
done my utmost for some years past to stop the pro-
gress of Mbb and Banter, but have been plainly
borne down by numbers, and betrayed by those who
promised to assist me.
" In the last place, you are to take notice of certain
choice phrases scattered through the letter, some of
them tolerable enough, until they were worn to rags
by servile imitators. You might easily find them
though they were not in a different print, and there-
fore I need not disturb them.
" These are the false refinements in our style
which you ought to correct : first, by argument and
fair means ; but, if those fail, I think you are to
make use of your authority as Censor, and by an
annual Index Expurgatorius expunge all words and
phrases that are offensive to good sense, and con-
NO 230. TATLER. 95
demn these barbarous mutilations of vowels and
syllables. In this last point the usual pretence is,
that they spell as they speak. A noble standard for
language ! to depend upon the caprice of every cox-
comb, who, because words are the cloathing of our
thoughts, cuts them out and shapes them as he pleas-
es, and changes them oftener than his dress. I be-
lieve all reasonable people would be content that
such refiners were more sparing in their words, and
liberal in their syllables: and upon this head I should
be glad you would bestow some advice upon several
young readers in our churches, who, coming up
from the university full fraught with admiration of
our town politeness, will needs correct the style of
their prayer-books. In reading the Absolution, they
are very careful to say Pardons and Absolves; and
in the prayer for the Royal Family, it must be endue 1
urn, enrich'vm, prosper'um, and bring'um. Then
in their sermons they use all the modern terms of
art, Sham, Banter, Mob, Bubble, Bully, Cutting,
Shuffling, and Palming ; all which, and many more
of the like stamp, as I have heard them often in the
pulpit from such young sophisters, so I have read
them in some of ' those sermons that have made most
noise of late.' The design, it seems, is to avoid the
dreadful imputation of pedantry ; to show us that
they know the town, understand men and manners,
and have not been poring upon old unfashionable
books in the university.
" I should be glad to see you the instrument of
introducing into our style that simplicity which is
the best and truest ornament of most things in life,
which the politer ages always aimed at in their build-
ing and dress, simplex munditiis, as well as their
productions of wit. It is manifest that all new af-
fected modes of speech, whether borrowed from the
court, the town, or the theatre, are the first
96 TATLKR. NO 231.
perishing parts in any language; and, as I could prove
by many hundred instances, have been so in ours.
The writings of Hooker, who was a country clergy-
man, and of Parsons the Jesuit, both in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth, are in a style that, with very few
allowances, would not offend any present reader, and
are much more clear and intelligible than those of
Sir Harry Wooton, Sir Robert Naunton, Osborn, Da-
niel the historian, and several others who writ later ;
but being men of the court, and affecting the phrases
then in fashion, they are often either not to be under-
stood, or appear perfectly ridiculous.
" What remedies are to be applied to these evils,
I have not room to consider, having, I fear, already
taken up most of your paper. Besides, I think it is
our office only to represent abuses, and yours to re-
dress them. I am, with great respect, Sir,
" Yours, &c.
N 231. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1710.
Principiis olsta
OVID. Rem. Amor. ver. 91.
Prevent the growing evil
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, September 29.
THERE are very many ill habits that might with
much ease have been prevented, which, after we
have indulged ourselves in them, become incorrigi-
NO 231. TATLEft. 97
ble. We have a sort of proverbial expression of
" Taking a woman down in her wedding shoes," if
you would bring her to reason. An early behaviour
of this sort had a very remarkable good effect in a
family, wherein I was several years an intimate
acquaintance.
A gentleman in Lincolnshire had four daughters,
three of which were early married very happily ;
but the fourth, though no way inferior to any of her
sisters, either in person or accomplishments, had
from her infancy discovered so imperious a temper,
usually called a High Spirit, that it continually made
great uneasiness in the family, became her known
character in the neighbourhood, and deterred all
her lovers from declaring themselves. However, in
process of time, a gentleman of a plentiful fortune
and long acquaintance, having observed that quick-
ness of spirit to be her only fault, made his addresses,
and obtained her consent in due form. The law-
yers finished the writings, in which, by the way,
there was no pin-money ; and they were married.
After a decent time spent in the father's house, the
bridegroom we*nt to prepare his seat for her recep-
tion. During the whole course of his courtship,
though a man of the most equal temper, he had
artificially lamented to her, that he was the most
passionate creature breathing, By this one intimation,
he at once made her understand warmth of temper
to be what he ought to pardon in her, as well as that
he alarmed her against that constitution in himself.
She at the same time thought herself highly obliged
by the composed behaviour which he maintained in
her presence. Thus far he with great success soothed
her from being guilty of violences, and still resolved
to give her such a terrible apprehension of his fiery
spirit, that she should never dream of giving way to
her own. He returned on the day appointed for
VOL. v. K
98 TATLKR. NO 231.
carrying her home ; but, instead of a coach and six
horses, together with the gay equipage suitable to
the occasion, he appeared without a servant, mount-
ed on the skeleton of a horse, which his huntsman
had, the day before, brought in to feast his dogs on
the arrival of their new mistress, with a pillion fixed
behind, and a case of pistols before him, attended
only by a favourite hound. Thus equipped, he in
a very obliging, but somewhat positive manner, de-
sired his Lady to seat herself on the cushion ; which
done, away they crawled. The road being obstructed
by a gate, the dog was commanded to open it : the
poor cur looked up and wagged his tail : but the
master, to show the impatience of his temper, drew
a pistol, and shot him dead. He had no sooner done
it, but he fell into a thousand apologies for his un-
happy rashness, and begged as many pardons for
his excesses before one for whom he had so profound
a respect. Soon after their steed stumbled, but
with some difficulty recovered : however, the bride-
groom took occasion to swear, if he frightened his
wife so again, he would run him through ! And
alas ! the poor animal, being now almost tired, made
a second trip ; immediately on which the careful
husband alights, and, with great ceremony, first
takes off his Lady, then the accoutrements, draws
his sword, and saves the huntsman the trouble of
killing him : then says to his wife, " Child, pr'ythee
take up the saddle ;" which she readily did, and
tugged it home, where they found all things in the
greatest order, suitable to their fortune and the pre-
sent occasion. Some time after, the father of the
Lady gave an entertainment to all his daughters and
their husbands ; where, when the wives were retired,
and the gentlemen passing a toast about, our last
married man took occasion to observe to the rest of
his brethren, how much, to his great satisfaction, he
NO 231. TATLER. 99
found the world mistaken as to the temper of his
Lady, for that she was the most meek and humble
woman breathing. The applause was received with
a loud laugh : but, as a trial which of them would
appear the most master at home, he proposed they
should all by turns send for their wives down to them.
A servant was dispatched, and answer was made by
one, " tell him I will come by-and-by ;" and another,
" that she would come when the cards were out of
her hand ;" and so on. But no sooner was her hus-
band's desire whispered in the ear of our last married
lady, but the cards were clapped on the table, and
down she comes with, " My dear, would you speak
with me ?" He receives her in his arms, and, after
repeated caresses, tells her the experiment, confesses
his good-nature, and assures her, that since she
could now command her temper, he would no longer
disguise his own.
I received the following letter with a dozen of
wine, and cannot but do justice to the liquor, and
give my testimony, " That I have tried it upon seve-
ral of my acquaintance, who were given to imperti-
nent abbreviations, with great success."
" MR. BICKEHSTAFr,
" I send you by this bearer, and not per bearer,
a dozen of that claret which is to be sold at Garra-
way's coffee-house, on Thursday the fifth day of
October next. I can assure you I have found by
experience the efficacy of it, in amending a fault you
complain of in your last. The very first draught of
it has some effect on the speech of the drinker, and
restores all the letters taken away by the elisions so
justly complained of. Will Hazard was cured of his
Hypochondria by three glasses ; and the gentleman,
100 TATLER. NO 232.
who gave you an account of his late indisposition,
has in public company, after the first quart, spoke
every syllable of the word Plenipotentiary.
" Yours, &c."
N 232. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1710.
from my own Apartment, October 2.
I HAVE received the following letter from my un-
fortunate old acquaintance the upholsterer, who,
I observed, had long absented himself from the
bench at the upper end of the Mall. Having not
seen him for some time, I was in fear I should soon
hear of his death ; especially since he never appear-
ed, though the noons have been of late pretty warm,
and the councils at that place very full from the hour
of twelve to three, which the sages of that board
employ in conference, while the unthinking part of
mankind are eating and drinking for the support
of their own private persons, without any regard
to the public.
" SIR,
" I should have waited on you very frequently to
have discoursed you upon some matters of moment,
but that I love to be well informed in the subject
upon which I consult my friends, before I enter
into debate with them. I have therefore, with the
utmost care and pains, applied myself to the reading
all the writings and pamphlets which have come out
since the trial, and have studied night and day in
No 232. TATLER. 101
order to be master of the whole controversy : but
the authors are so numerous and the state of affairs
alters so very fast, that I am now a fortnight behind-
hand in my reading, and know only how things
stood twelve days ago. I wish you would enter into
those useful subjects ; for if I may be allowed to
say so, these are no times to jest in. As for my
own part, you know very well that I am of a public
spirit, and never regarded my own interest, but
looked further; and let me tell you, that while
some people are minding only themselves and fami-
lies, and others are thinking only of their own coun-
try, things go on strangely in the north. I foresee
very great evils arising from the neglect of transac-
tions at a distance ; for which reason I am now writ-
ing a letter to a friend in the country, which I design
as an answer to the Czar of Muscovy's letter to the
Grand Seignior concerning his Majesty of Sweden.
I have endeavoured to prove, that it is not reason-
able to expect that his Swedish Majesty should leave
Bender without forty thousand men ; and I have
added to this an apology for the Cossacks. But the
matter multiplies upon me, and I grow dim with
much writing; therefore desire, if you have an old
green pair of spectacles, such as you used about
your fiftieth year, that you would send them to me ;
as also, that you will please to desire Mr. Morphew
to send me in a bushel of coals on the credit of my
answer to his Czai ian Majesty ; for I design it shall
be printed for Morphew, and the weather grows
sharp. I shall take it kindly if you would order
him also to send me the papers as they come out.
If there are no fresh pamphlets published, I compute
that I shall know before the end of next month
what has been done in town to this day. If it were
not for an ill custom lately introduced by a certain
author, of talking Latin at the beginning of papers,
K V
102 TATLER. NO 23<2.
matters would be in a much clearer light than they
are: but, to our comfort, there are solid writers who
are not guilty of this pedantry. The Post-man
writes like an angel. The Moderator is fine reading.
It would do you no harm to read the Post-boy with
attention ; he is very deep of late. He is instructive ;
but I confess a little satirical : a sharp pen ! he cares
not what he says. The Examiner is admirable, and
is become a grave and substantial author. But,
above all, I am at a loss how to govern myself in my
judgment of those whose whole writings consist in
interrogatories : and then the way of answering, by
proposing questions as hard to them, is quite as ex-
traordinary. As for my part, I tremble at these no-
velties ; we expose, in my opinion, our affairs too
much by it. You may be sure the French king will
spare no cost to come at the reading of them. I
dread to think if the fable of the Blackbirds should
fall into his hands. But I shall not venture to say
more until I see you. In the mean time,
I am, &c.
" P. S. I take the Bender letter, in the Examiner,
to be spurious."
This unhappy correspondent, whose fantastical
loyalty to the king of Sweden has reduced him to
this low condition of reason and fortune, would ap-
pear much more monstrous in his madness, did we
not see crowds very little above his circumstances
from the same cause, a passion to politics.
It is no unpleasant entertainment to consider the
commerce even of the sexes interrupted by differ-
ence in state affairs. A wench and her gallant
parted last week upon the words unlimited and pas-
sive ; and there is such a jargon of terms got into the
mouths of the very silliest of the women, that you
NO 232. TATLER. 103"
cannot come into a room even among them, but you
find them divided into Whig and Tory. What
heightens the humour is, that all the hard words
they know, they certainly suppose to be terms use-
ful in the disputes of the parties. I came in this
day where two were in very hot debate ; and one of
them proposed to me to explain to them what was
the difference between circumcision and predestina-
tion. You may be sure I was at a loss ; but they
were too angry at each other to wait for my expla-
nation, and proceeded to lay open the whole state of
affairs, instead of the usual topics of dress, gallantry,
and scandal.
I have often wondered how it should be possible
that this turn to politics should so universally prevail
to the exclusion of every other subject out of conver-
sation ; and, upon mature consideration, find it is
for want of discourse. Look round you among all
the young fellows you meet, and you see those who
have the least relish for books, company, or plea-
sure, though they have no manner of qualities to
make them succeed in those pursuits, shall make very
passable politicians. Thus the most barren inven-
tion shall find enough to say to make one appear an
able man in the top coffee-houses. It is but adding
a certain vehemence in uttering yourself, let the
thing you say be never so flat, and you shall be
thought a very sensible man, if you were not too
hot. As love and honour are the noblest motives of
life : so the pretenders to them, without being ani-
mated by them, are the most contemptible of all sorts
of pretenders. The unjust affectation of any thing
that is laudable is ignominious in proportion to the
worth of the thing we affect ; thus, as love of one's
country is the moot glorious of all passions, to see the
most ordinary tools in a nation give themselves airs
104 TATLER. NO 233.
that way, without any one good quality in their own
life, has something in it romantic, yet not so ridi-
culous as odious.
ADVERTISEMENT.
*** Mr. Bickerstaff has received Sylvia's letter
from The Bath, and his sister is set out thither.
Tom Frontley, who is one of the guides for the town,
is desired to bring her into company, and oblige her
with a mention in his next lampoon.
N233. THURSDAY, OCTOBERS, 171O.
Sunt certa piacula, qute te
Ter pure lecto poterunt recreare libello.
HOR. 1 Ep. i. 36.
And, like a charm, to th' upright mind and pure,
If thrice read o'er, will yield a certain cure.
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, October 4.
WHEN the mind has been perplexed with anxious
cares and passions, the best method of bringing it
to its usual state of tranquillity is, as much as we
possibly can, to turn our thoughts to the adversities
of persons of higher consideration in virtue and merit
than ourselves. By this means all the little incidents
of our own lives, if they are unfortunate, seem to be
the effect of justice upon our faults and indiscre-
NO 233. TATLKR. 105
lions. When those whom we know to be excellent,
and deserving of a better fate, are wretched, we can-
not but resign ourselves, whom most of us know to
merit a much worse state than that we are placed in.
For such and many other occasions, there is one
admirable relation which one might recommend for
certain periods of one's life, to touch, comfort, and
improve the heart of man. Tully says somewhere,
" the pleasures of an husbandman are next to those
of a philosopher." In like manner one may say, for
methinks they bear the same proportion one to ano-
ther, the pleasures of humanity are next to those of
devotion. In both these latter satisfactions, there
is a certain humiliation which exalts the soul above
its ordinary state. At the same time that it lessens
our value of ourselves, it enlarges our estimation of
others. The history I am going to speak of, is that
of Joseph in Holy Writ, which is related with such
majestic simplicity, that all the parts of it strike us
with strong touches of nature and compassion ; and
he must be a stranger to both, who can read it witli
attention, and not be overwhelmed with the vicissi-
tudes of joy and sorrow. I hope it will not be a
prophanation, to tell it one's own way here, that
they who may be unthinking enough to be more fre-
quently readers of such papers as this, than of Sacred
Writ, may be advertised, that the greatest pleasures
the imagination can be entertained with are to be
found there, and that even the style of the Scriptures
is more than human.
Joseph, a beloved child of Israel, became invidi-
ous to his elder brethren, for no other reason but his
superior beauty, and excellence of body and mind,
insomuch that they could not bear his growing virtue,
and let him live. They therefore conspire his death ;
but nature pleaded so strongly for him in the heart
of one of them, that by his persuasion they deter-
106 TATLER. NO 033.
mined rather to bury him in a pit, than be his im-
mediate executioners with their own hands. When
thus much was obtained for him, their minds still
softened towards him, and they took the opportunity
of some passengers to sell him into Egypt. Israel
was persuaded by the artifice of his sons, that the
youth was torn to pieces by wild beasts : but Joseph
was sold to slavery, and still exposed to new misfor-
tunes, from the same cause as before, his beauty
and his virtue. By a false accusation he was com-
mitted to prison ; but in process of time delivered
from it, in consideration of his wisdom and know-
ledge, and made the governor of Pharaoh's house.
In this elevation of his fortune, his brothers were
sent into Egypt, to buy necessaries of life in a fa-
mine: As soon as they are brought into his presence,
he beholds, but he beholds with compassion, the
men who had sold him to slavery approaching him
with awe and reverence. While he was looking
over his brethren, he takes a resolution to indulge
himself in the pleasure of stirring their and his own
affections, by keeping himself concealed, and exa-
mining into the circumstances of their family. For
this end, with an air of severity, as a watchful mi-
nister to Pharaoh, he accuses them as spies, who are
come into Egypt with designs against the state. This
led them into the account which he wanted of
them, the condition of their antient father and little
brother, whom they had left behind them. When
he had learned that his brother was living, he de-
mands the bringing him to Egypt, as a proof of their
veracity.
But it would be a vain and empty endeavour to
attempt laying this excellent represensation of the
passions of man in the same colours as they appear
iti the Sacred Writ, in any other manner, or almost
any other words, than those made use of in the page
NO 233. TATLER. 107
itself. I am obliged, therefore, to turn my designed
narration rather into a comment upon the several parts
of that beautiful and passionate scene. When Joseph
expects to see Benjamin, how natural, and how for-
cible is the reflection, " This affliction is come upon
us, in that we saw the anguish of our brother's soul
without pity !" How moving must it be to Joseph
to hear Reuben accuse the rest, that they would not
hear what he pleaded in behalf of his innocence and
distress ! He turns from them, and weeps ; but com-
mands his passion so far as to give orders for binding
one of them in the presence of the rest, while he at
leisure observed their different sentiments and con-
cern in their gesture and countenance. When Ben-
jamin is demanded in bondage for stealing the cup,
with what force and what resignation does Judah ad-
dress his brother !
" In what words shall I speak to my lord ? with
what confidence can I say any thing ? Our guilt is
but too apparent ; we submit to our fate. We are
my lord's servants, both we and he also with whom
the cup is found." When that is not accepted, how
pathetically does he recapitulate the whole story !
And, approaching nearer to Joseph, delivers himself
as follows ; which, if we fix our thoughts upon the
relation between the pleader and the judge, it is im-
possible to read without tears :
" SIR,
" Let me intrude so far upon you, even in the
high condition in which you are, and the miserable
one in which you see me and my brethren, to inform
you of the circumstances of us unhappy men that
prostrate ourselves before you. When we were first
examined by you, you inquired for what reason my
lord inquired we know not but you inquired, whe-
ther we had not a father or a brother. We then
108 TATLER. NO 233.
acquainted you, that we had a father, an old man,
who had a child of his old age, and had buried ano-
ther son, whom he had by the same woman. You
were pleased to command us to bring the child he
had remaining down to you : we did so ; and he has
forfeited his liberty. But my father said to us, You
know that my wife bare me two sons : one of them
was torn in pieces ; if mischief befal this also, it will
bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. Ac-
cept, therefore, oh my lord ! me for your bondman,
and let the lad return with his brethren, that I may
not see the evil that shall come on my father." Here
Joseph's passion grew too great for further disguise,
and he reveals himself with exclamations of trans-
port and tenderness.
After their recovery from their first astonishment,
his brethren were seized with fear for the injuries
they had done him ; but how generously does he
keep them in countenance, and made an apology for
them ! " Be not angry with yourselves for selling me
hither ; call it not so, but think Providence sent me
before you to preserve life !"
It would be endless to go through all the beauties
of this sacred narrative ; but any one who shall read
it, at an hour when he is disengaged from all other
regards or interests than what arise from it, will feel
the alternate passion of a father, a brother, and a
son, so warm in him, that they will incline him to ex-
ert himself in such of those characters as happen to
be his, much above the ordinary course of his life.
N 934. TATLER. 109
No 234. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1710.
From my own Apartment, October 6.
I HAVE reason to believe, that certain of my con-
temporaries have made use of an art I some time
ago professed, of being often designedly dull ; and
for that reason shall not exert myself when I see
them lazy. He that has so much to struggle with,
as the man who pretends to censure others, must
keep up his fire for an onset, and may be allowed
to carry his arms a little carelessly upon an ordinary
march. This Paper therefore shall be taken up by
my correspondents, two of which have sent me the
two following plain, but sensible and honest letters,
upon subjects no less important than those of Edu-
cation and Devotion.
" SIR,
" I am an old man retired from all acquaintance
with the town, but what I have from your Papers,
not the worst entertainment of my solitude ; yet
being still a well-wisher to my country, and the
commonwealth of learning (a qua coiifiteor nullam
atatis mete partem abhorruissej , and hoping the
plain phrase in writing that was current in my
younger days would have lasted for my time, I was
startled at the picture of modern politeness, trans-
mitted by your ingenious correspondent, and grieved
to see our sterling English language fallen into the
hands of Clippers and Coiners. That mutilated
epistle, consisting of Hippo, Rep's, and -such like
enormous curtailings, was a mortifying spectacle,
VOL. v. L
110 TATLER. NO 234.
but with the reserve of comfort to find this and
other abuses of our mother tongue so pathetically
complained of, and to the proper person for re-
- dressing them, the Censor of Great-Britain.
" He "had before represented the deplorable igno-
rance that for several years past has reigned amongst
our English writers, the great depravity of our
taste, and continual corruption of our style. But,
Sir, before you give yourself the trouble of pre-
scribing remedies for these distempers, which you
own will require the greatest care and application,
give me leave, having long had my eye upon these
mischiefs, and thoughts exercised about them, to
mention what I humbly conceive to be the cause of
them, and in your friend Horace's words, Quofonte
derivata clades in patriam populumquefluxit.
" I take our corrupt ways of writing to proceed
from the mistakes and wrong measures in our com-
mon methods of Education, which I always looked
upon as one of our national grievances, and a singu-
larity that renders us, no less than our situation,
Penitus tola divisos orbe Britannos.
VIRG. 1 Eel. 67.
A race of men from all the world disjoin'd.
DRYDEN.
" This puts me upon consulting the most cele-
brated critics on that subject, to compare our prac-
tice with their precepts, and find where it was that
we came short or went wide.
But after all, I found our case required some-
thing more than these doctors had directed, and the
principal defect of our English discipline to lie in
the initiatory part, which although it needs the
greatest care and skill, is usually left to the conduct
of those blind guides, viz. Chance and Ignorance.
NO 234. TATLKR. Ill
" J shall trouble you with but a single instance,
pursuant to what your sagacious friend has said,
that he could furnish you with a catalogue of
English books, which would cost you an hundred
pounds at first hand, wherein you could not find
ten lines together of common grammar ; which is a
necessary consequence of our mismanagement in
that province.
" For can any thing be more absurd than our
way of proceeding in this part of literature? to push
tender wits into the intricate mazes of grammar,
and a Latin grammar ? to learn an unknown art by
an unknown tongue? to carry them a dark round-
about way to let them in at the back door? Whereas
by teaching them first the grammar of their mother-
tongue so easy to be learned, their advance to the
grammars of Latin and Greek would be gradual and
easy ; but our precipitate way of hurrying them
over such a gulph, before we have built them a
bridge to it, is a shock to their weak understandings,
which they seldom, or very late, recover. In the
mean time we wrong nature, and slander infants,
who want neither capacity nor will to learn, until
we put them upon service beyond their strength, and
then indeed we balk them.
" The liberal arts and sciences are all beautiful as
the Graces; nor has Grammar, the severe mother
of all, so frightful a face of her own ; it is the
vizard put upon it that scares children. She is
made to speak hard words, that to them sound like
conjuring. Let her talk intelligibly, and they will
listen to her.
" In this, I think, as on other accounts, we show
ourselves true Britons, always overlooking our na-
tural advantages. It has been the practice of the
wisest nations to learn their own language by stated
rules, tp avoid the confusion that would follow
112 TATLKR. N 234.
from leaving it to vulgar use. Our English tongue,
says a learned man, is the most determinate in its
construction, and reducible to the fewest rules ;
whatever language has less grammar in it, is not in-
telligible : and whatever has more, all that it has
more is superfluous ; for which reasons he would
have it made the foundation of learning Latin, and
all other languages.
" To speak and write without absurdity the lan-
guage of one's country is commendable in persons
of all stations, and to some indispensably necessary :
and to this purpose I would recommend, above all
things, the having a grammar of our mother-tongue
first taught in our schools, which would facilitate
our youths learning their Latin and Greek gram-
mars, with spare time for arithmetic, astronomy,
cosmography, history, &c. that would make them
pass the spring of their life with profit and pleasure,
that is now miserably spent in grammatical per-
plexities.
" But here, methinks, I see the reader smile,
and ready to ask me, as the lawyer did sexton
Diego on his bequeathing rich legacies to the poor
of the parish, where are these mighty sums to be
raised ? Where is there such a grammar to be had ?
I will not answer as he did, ' Even where your
Worship pleases.' No, it is our good fortune to
rftive such a grammar, with notes, now in the press,
and to be published next term.
" I hear it is a chargeable work, and wish the
publisher to have customers of all that have need of
such a book ; yet fancy that he cannot be much a
sufferer, if it is only bought by all that have more
need for it than they think they have.
" A certain author brought a poem to Mr. Cowley,
for his perusal and judgment of the performance,
N 234. TATLER. 113
which he demanded at the next visit with a
poetaster's assurance ; and Mr. Cowley, with his
usual modesty, desired that he would be pleased to
look a little to the grammar of it. ' To the gram-
mar of it ! what do you mean, Sir, would yon
send me to school again ?' ' Why, Mr. H ,
would it do you any harm ?'
** This put me on considering how this voyage
of literature may be made with more safety and
profit, expedition and delight ; and at last, for
compleating so good a service, to request your di-
rections in so deplorable a case : hoping that, as
you have had compassion on our overgrown cox-
combs in concerns of less consequence, you will
exert your charity towards innocents, and vouch-
safe to be guardian to the children and youth of
Great Britain in this important affair of education,
wherein mistakes and wrong measures have so often
occasioned their aversion to books, that had other-
wise proved the chief ornament and pleasure of their
life. I am, with sincerest respect, Sir,
Yours, &c.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF, St. Clements, Oct. 5.
" I observe, as the season begins to grow cold?
so does people's devotion; insomuch, that instead
of filling the churches, that united zeal might keep
one warm there, one is left to freeze in almost bare
walls by those who in hot weather are troublesome
the contrary way. This, Sir, needs a regulation
that none but you can give to it, by causing those
who absent themselves on account of weather only
this winter-time, to pay the apothecaries bills occa-
sioned by coughs, catarrhs, and other distempers,
contracted by sitting in empty seats. Therefore, to
you I apply myself for redress, having gotten such a
L2
114 TATLER. NO 235.
cold on Sunday was sevennight, that has brought me
almost to your Worship's age from sixty, within less
than a fortnight. I am,
Your Worship's in all obedience,
W. E."
N 235. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 10, 171O.
Scit Genius, natale comes qui temperat aslrum.
HOR. 2 Ep. ii. 187.
But whence these turns of inclination rose,
The Genius this, the God of Nature knows :
That mystic Power, 'which our actions guides,
Attends our stars, and o'er our lives presides.
FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, October 9.
AMONG those inclinations which are common to all
men, there is none more unacccountable than that
unequal love by which parents distinguish their
children from each other. Sometimes vanity and
self-love appear to have a share towards this effect :
and in other instances I have been apt to attribute it
to mere instinct: but, however that is, we fre-
quently see the child, that has been beholden to
neither of these impulses in his parents, in spite of
being neglected, snubbed, and thwarted at home,
acquire a behaviour which makes him as agreeable
to all the rest of the world, as that of every one
else of their family is to each other. I fell into this
way of thinking from an intimacy which I have
NO 235. TATLER. 115
with a very good house in our neighbourhood, where
there are three daughters of a very different cha-
racter and genius. The eldest has a great deal of
wit and cunning; the second has good sense, but
no artifice ; the third has much vivacity, but little
understanding. The first is a fine, but scornful
woman ; the second is not charming, but very
winning ; the third is no way commendable, but
very desirable. The father of these young crea-
tures was ever a great pretender to wit, the mother
a woman of as much coquetry. This turn in the
parents has biassed their affections towards their
children. The old man supposes the eldest of .his
own genius ; and the mother looks upon the
youngest as herself renewed. By this means, all
the lovers that approach the house are discarded by
the father, for not observing Mrs. Mary's wit and
beauty ; and by the mother, for being blind to the
mien and air of Mrs. Biddy. Come never so many
pretenders, they are not suspected to have the least
thought of Mrs. Betty, the middle daughter. Betty,
therefore, is mortified into a woman of a great deal
of merit, and knows she must depend on that only
for her advancement. The middlemost is thus the
favourite of all her acquaintance, as well as mine ;
while the other two carry a certain insolence about
them in all conversations, and expect the partiality
which they meet with at home to attend them where-
ever they appear. So little do parents understand
that they are, of all people, the least judges of their
children's merit, that what they reckon such is sel-
dom any thing else but a repetition of their own
faults and infirmities.
There is, methinks, some excuse of being parti-
cular, when one of the offspring has any defect in
nature. In this case, the child, if we may so
speak, is so much the longer the child of its parents,
116 TATLER. NO 235.
and calls for the continuance of their care and indul-
gence from the slowness of its capacity, or the
weakness of its body. But there is no enduring to
see men enamoured only at the sight of their own
impertinencies repeated, and to observe, as we may
sometimes, that they have a secret dislike of their
children for a degeneracy from their very crimes.
Commend me to Lady Goodly ; she is equal to all
her own children, but prefers them to those of all
the world beside. My lady is a perfect hen in the
care of her brood ; she fights and she squabbles with
all that appear where they come, but is wholly un-
biassed in dispensing her favours among them. It is
no small pains she is at to defame all the young
women in her neighbourhood, by visits, whispers,
intimations, and hearsays ; all which she ends with
thanking Heaven, " that no one living is so blessed
with such obedient and well-inclined children as
herself. Perhaps," says she, " Betty cannot 'dance
like Mrs. Frontinet, and it is no great matter whe-
ther she does or not ; but she comes into a room
with a good grace : though she says it that should
not, she looks like a gentlewoman. Then, if Mrs.
Rebecca is not so talkative as the mighty wit Mrs.
Clapper, yet she is discreet, she knows better what
she says when she does speak. If her wit be slow,
her tongue never runs before it." This kind parent
lifts up her eyes and hands in congratulation of her
own good fortune, and is maliciously thankful that
none of her girls are like any of her neighbours :
but this preference of her own to all others is
grounded upon an impulse of nature ; while those,
who like one before another of their own, are so un-
pardonably unjust, that it could hardly be equalled
in the children, though they preferred all the rest
of the world to such parents. It is no unpleasant
entertainment to see a ball at a dancing-school, and
NO 235. TATLER. 117
observe the joy of relations when the young ones,
for whom they are concerned, are in motion. You
need not be told whom the dancers belong to. At
their first appearance, the passions of their parents
are in their faces, and there is always a nod of ap-
probation stolen at a good step, or a graceful turn.
I remember, among all my acquaintance, but
one man whom I have thought to live with his
children with equanimity and a good grace. He
had three sons and one daughter, whom he bred
with all the care imaginable in a liberal and inge-
nious way. I have often heard him say, " he had
the weakness to love one much better than the
other, but that he took as much pains to correct
that as any other criminal passion that could arise in
his mind." His method was, to make it the only
pretension in his children to his favour, to be kind
to each other ; and he would tell them, " that he
who was the best brother, he would reckon the
best son." This turned their thoughts into an emu-
lation for the superiority in kind and tender af-
fection towards each other. The boys behaved
themselves very early with a manly friendship ;
and their sister, instead of the gross familiarities,
and impertinent freedoms in behaviour, usual in
other houses, was always treated by them with as
much complaisance as any other young lady of their
acquaintance. It was an unspeakable pleasure to
visit, or sit at a meal, in that family. I have often
seen the old man's heart flow at his eyes with joy,
upon occasions whieh would appear indifferent to
such as were strangers to the turn of his mind : but
a very slight accident, wherein he saw his children's
good-will to one another, created in him the god-
like pleasure of loving them because they loved each
other. This great command of himself, in hiding
his first impulse to partiality, at last improved to a
1 18 TATLBR.
steady justice towards them; and that, which at
first was but an expedient to correct his weakness,
was afterwards the measure of his virtue.
The truth of it is, those parents who are in-
terested in the care of one child more than that of
another, no longer deserve the name of parents,
but are, in effect, as childish as their children, in
having such unreasonable and ungoverned inclina-
tions. A father of this sort has degraded himself
into one of his own offspring ; for none but a child
would take part in the passions of children.
NO 236. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1710.
Nescio qua nalale solum dulcedine mentem
Tangit, et immemorem non sinit esse sui.
Ovio. Ep. ex Pont. I. 111.
A nameless fondness for our native clime,
Triumphs o'er change, and all-devouring time,
Our next regards our friends and kindred claim ;
And every bosom feels the sympathetic flame.
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, October 11.
I FIND in the registers of my family that the
branch of the Bickerstaffs, from which I am de-
scended, came originally out of Ireland. This has
given me a kind of natural affection for that coun-
try. It is therefore with pleasure that I see not
only some of the greatest warriors, but also of the
greatest wits, to be natives of that kingdom. The
NO S6. TATLER. 119
gentleman who writes the following letter is one of
these last. The matter of fact contained in it is li-
terally true, though the diverting manner in which
it is told may give it the colour of a fable.
" To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esquire, at his House
in GREAT BRITAIN.
" SIR, Dublin.
" Finding by several passages in your Tatlers,
that you are a person curious in natural knowledge,
I thought it would not be unacceptable to you to
give you the following history of the migration of
frogs into this country. There is an antient tra-
dition among the wild philosophers of this kingdom,
that the whole island was once as much infested by
frogs, as that, wherein Whittington made his for-
tune, was by mice. Insomuch that it is said, Mac-
donald the First could no more sleep, by reason of
these Dutch nightingales, as they are called at
Paris, than Pharaoh could when they croaked in his
bed-chamber. It was in the reign of this great
monarch, that St. Patrick arrived in Ireland, being
as famous for destroying vermin as any rat-catcher
of our times. If we may believe the tradition, he
killed more in one day than a flock of storks could
have done in a twelvemonth. From that time for
about five hundred years there was not a frog to be
heard in Ireland, notwithstanding the bogs still re-
mained, which in former ages had been so plenti-
fully stocked with those inhabitants.
" When the arts began to flourish in the reign of
King Charles II. and that great monarch had placed
himself at the head of the Royal Society, to lead them
forward into the discoveries of Nature, it is said,
that several proposals were laid before his majesty,
for the importing of frogs into Ireland. In order to
it, a virtuoso of known abilities was unanimously
120 TATLER. NO 236.
elected by the 'Society, and intrusted with the whole
management of that affair. For this end, he took
along with him a sound able-bodied frog, of a strong
hale constitution, that had given proofs of his vigour
by several leaps that he had made before that learned
body. They took ship, and sailed together until
they came within sight of the hill of Hoath, before
the frog discovered any symptoms of being indis-
posed by his voyage : but as the wind chopped
about, and began to blow from the Irish coast, he
grew sea-sick, or rather land-sick ; for his learned
companion ascribed it to the particles of the soil
with which the wind was impregnated. He was
confirmed in his conjecture, when, upon the wind's
turning about, his fellow-traveller sensibly reco-
vered, and continued in good health until his ar-
rival upon the shore, where he suddenly relapsed,
and expired upon a Ring's-End car in his way to
Dublin. The same experiment was repeated se-
veral times in that reign, but to no purpose. A
frog was ne\*er known to take three leaps upon
Irish turf, before he stretched himself out, and
died.
'< Whether it were that the philosophers on this
side the water despaired of stocking the island with
this useful animal, or whether, in the following reign,
it was not thought proper to undo the miracle of a
popish saint : I do not hear of any further progress
made in this affair until about two years after the
battle of the Boyne.
" It was then that an ingenious physician, to the
honour as well as improvement of his native coun-
try, performed what the English had been so long
attempting in vain. This learned man, with the
hazard of his life, made a voyage to Liverpool,
where he filled several barrels with the choicest
spawn of frogs that could be found in those parts.
N 236. TATLER. 121
This cargo he brought over very carefully, and af-
terwards disposed of it in several warm beds, that
he thought most capable of bringing it to life. The
doctor was a very ingenious physician, and a very
good protestant ; for which reason, to show his zeal
against popery, he placed some of the most pro-
mising spawn in the very fountain that is dedicated to
the saint, and known by the name of St. Patrick's
Well, where those animals had the impudence to make
their first appearance. They have, since that time,
very much increased and multiplied in all the neigh-
bourhood of this city. We have here some curious
inquirers into natural history, who observe their mo-
tions with a design to compute in how many years
they will be able to hop from Dublin to Wexford ;
though, as I am informed, not one of them has yet
passed the mountains of Wicklow.
" I am further informed, that several graziers of
the county of Cork have entered into a project of
planting a colony in those parts, at the instance of
the French protestants ; and I know not but the same
design maybe on foot in other parts of the kingdom,
if the wisdom of the British nation do not think fit to
prohibit the further importation of English frogs.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble servant,
T. B."
There is no study more becoming a rational crea-
ture than that of Natural Philosophy ; but, as several
of our modern virtuosi manage it, their speculations
do not so much tend to open and enlarge the mind,
as to contract and fix it upon trifles.
This in England is in a great measure owing to the
worthy elections that are so frequently made in our
Royal Society. They seem to be in a confederacy
against men of polite genius, noble thought, and
VOL. v. M
122 TATLJSR. NO 237.
diffusive learning; and chuse into their assemblies
such as have no pretence to wisdom, but want of wit;
or to natural knowledge, but ignorance of every thing
else. I have made observations in this matter so
long, that when I meet with a young fellow that is
an humble admirer of these sciences, but more dull
than the rest of the company, I conclude him to be
a Fellow of the Royal Society.
N' 237- SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1710.
In nwafert animut mutatas dicere formas
Corpora. OVID. Met. i. 1.
Of bodies changed to various forms I sing.
DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, October 13.
COMING home last night before my usual hour, I
took a book into my hand, in order to divert myself
with it until bed-time. Milton chanced to be my
author, whose admirable poem of " Paradise Lost,"
serves at once to fill the rnind with pleasing ideas,
and with good thoughts, and was therefore the most
proper book for my purpose. I was amusing my-
self with that beautiful passage in which the Poet
represents Eve sleeping by Adam's side, with the
devil sitting at her ear, and inspiring evil thoughts,
under the shape of a toad. Ithuriel, one of the
guardian angels of the place, walking his nightly
rounds, saw the great enemy of mankind hid in this
NO 237- TATLER. 123
loathsome animal, which he touched with his spear.
This spear being of a celestial temper, had such a
secret virtue in it, that whatever it was applied to
immediately flung off all disguise, and appeared in
its natural figure. I am afraid the reader will not
pardon me, if I content myself with explaining the
passage in prose, without giving it in the author's
own inimitable words :
.- On be led his radiant files,
Dazzling- the morn. These to the bower direct,
In search of whom they sought. Him there they found,
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve ;
Essaying by his devilish art to reach
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge
Illusions as he list, Phantasms and Dreams ;
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint
The animal spirits (that from pure blood arise
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure), thence raise
At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts,
Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires,
Blown up with high conceits, engend'ring pride.
Him, thus intent, Itburiel with his spear
Touch'd lightly ; for no falsehood can endure
Touch of celestial temper, but returns
Of force to his own likeness. Up he starts
Discovered and surpris'd. As when a spark
Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid
Fit for the tun, some magazine to store
Against a rumour'd war, the smutty grain,
With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the air;
So started up in his own shape the fiend.
I could not forbear thinking how happy a man
would be in the possession of this spear; or what
an advantage it would be to a minister of state were
he master of such a white staff. It would help him
to discover his friends from his enemies, men of
abilities from pretenders : it would hinder him from
being imposed upon by appearances and professions;
124 TATLER. NO 237-
and might be made use of as a kind of state-test,
which no artifice could elude.
These thoughts made very lively impressions on
my imagination, which werr improved, instead of
being defaced, by sleep, ard produced in me the
following dream : I was ne sooner fallen asleep, but
methought the angel Ithi/ iel appeared to me, and,
with a smile that still added to his celestial beauty,
made me a present of the spear which he held in his
hand; and disappeared. To make trials of it, I went
into a place of public resort.
The first person that passed by me, was a lady
that had a particular shyness in the cast of her eye,
and a more than ordinary reservedness in all the
parts of her behaviour. She seemed to look upon
man as an obscene creature, with a certain scorn
and fear of him. In the height of her airs I
touched her gently with my wand, when, to my
unspeakable surprise, she fell in such a manner as
made me blush in my sleep. As I was hasting
away from this undisguised prude, I saw a lady in
earnest discourse with another, and overheard her
say, with some vehemence, " Never tell me of him,
for I am resolved to die a virgin !" I had a curiosity
to try her ; but, as soon as I laid my wand upon her
head, she immediately fell in labour. My eyes were
diverted from her by a man and his wife, who
walked near me, hand in hand, after a very loving
manner. I gave each of them a gentle tap, and the
next instant saw the woman in breeches, and the
man with a fan in his hand. It would be tedious
to describe the long series of metamorphoses that I
entertained myself with in my night's adventure, of
Whigs disguised in Tories, and Tories in Whigs ;
men in red coats, that denounced terror in their
countenance, trembling at the touch of my spear ;
others in black, with peace in their mouths, but
NO 237. TATLER. 135
swords in their hands. I could tell stories of noble-
men changed into usurers, and magistrates into
beadles ; of free-thinkers into penitents, and reform-
ers into whore-masters. I must not, however, omit
the mention of a grave citizen who passed by me with
an huge clasped Bible under his arm, and a band of
a most immoderate breadth ; but, upon a touch on
the shoulder, he let drop his book, and fell a-picking
my pocket.
In the general I observed, that those who ap-
peared good, often disappointed my expectations ;
but that, on the contrary, those who appeared very
bad, still grew worse upon the experiment : as the
toad in Milton, which one would have thought the
most deformed part of the creation, at Ithuriel's
stroke became more deformed, and started up into a
devil.
Among all the persons that I touched, there was
but one who stood the test of my wand ; and, after
many repetitions of the stroke, stuck to his form, and
remained steady and fixed to his first appearance.
This was a young man, who boasted of foul distem-
pers, wild debauches, insults upon holy men, and
affronts to religion.
My heart was extremely troubled at this vision.
The contemplation of the whole species, so entirely
sunk in corruption, filled my mind with a melancholy
that is inexpressible, and my discoveries still added
to my affliction.
In the midst of these sorrows which I had in my
heart, methought there passed by me a couple of
coaches with purple liveries. There sat in each of
them a person with a very venerable aspect. At
the appearance of them the people, who were ga-
thered round me in great multitudes, divided into
parties, as they were disposed to favour either of
those reverend persons. The enemies of one of
M2
126 TATLER. NO 237.
them begged me to touch him with my wand, and
assured me I should see his lawn converted into a
cloak. The opposite party told me with as much
assurance, that if I laid my wand upon the other, I
should see his garments embroidered with flower-de-
luces, and his head covered with a cardinal's hat.
I made the experiment ; and, to my great joy, saw
them both without any change, distributing their
blessings to the people, and praying for those who
had reviled them. Is it possible, thought I, that good
men, who are so few in number, should be divided
among themselves, and give better quarter to the
vicious that are in their party, than the most strictly
virtuous who are out of it ? Are the ties of faction
above those of religion ? I was going on in my soli-
loquies, but some sudden accident awakened me, when
I found my hand grasped, but my spear gone. The
reflection on so very odd a dream made me figure to
myself, what a strange face the world would bear,
should all mankind appear in their proper shapes and
characters, without hypocrisy and disguise ? I am
afraid the earth we live upon would appear to other
intellectual beings no better than a planet peopled
with monsters. This should, methinks, inspire us with
an honest ambition of recommending ourselves to
those invisible spies, and of being what we would ap-
pear. There was one circumstance in my foregoing
dream, which I at first intended to conceal; but upon
second thoughts, I cannot look upon myself as a can-
did and impartial historian, if I do not acquaint my
reader, that upon taking Ithuriel's spear into my hand,
though I was before an old decrepit fellow, I appear-
ed a very handsome, jolly, black man. But I know
my enemies will say this is praising my own beauty,
for which reason I will speak no more of it.
NO 238. TATLKR.
N 238. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1710.
-' ' Poetica surgit
Tempestas Juv. Sat. xil. 23.
Thus dreadful rises the poetic storm. R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, October 16.
STORMS at sea are so frequently described by the
antient poets, and copied by the moderns, that when-
ever I find the winds begin to rise in a new heroic
poem, I generally skip a leaf or two until I come into
fair weather. Virgil's tempest is a master-piece in this
kind, and is indeed so naturally drawn, that one who
has made a voyage can scarce read it without being
sea-sick. Land-showers are no less frequent among
the poets than the former, but I remember none of
them which have not fallen in the country ; for which
reason they are generally filled with the lowings of
oxen and the bleatings of sheep, and very often em-
bellished with a rainbow.
Virgil's land-shower is likewise the best in its
kind. It is indeed a shower of consequence, and
contributes to the main design of the poem, by
cutting off a tedious ceremonial, and bringing mat-
ters to a speedy conclusion between tw t o potentates
of different sexes. My ingenious kinsman, Mr.
Humphry Wagstaff, who treats of every subject
after a manner that no other author has done, and
better than any other can do, has sent me the
128 TATLER. NO 238.
description of a City-shower. I do not question but
the reader remembers my cousin's description of the
Morning as it breaks in town, which is printed in
the ninth Tatler, and is another exquisite piece of
this local poetry.
Careful observers may foretel the hour
(By sure prognostics) when to dread a Shower ;
While rain depends, the pensive cat gives o'er
Her frolics, and pursues her tail no more.
Returning home at night, you'll find the sink
Strike your offended sense with double stink.
If you be wise, then go not far to dine,
You'll spend in coach-hire more than save in wine.
A coming Shower your shooting corns presage,
Old aches will throb, your hollow tooth will rage.
Sauntering in coffee-house is Dulman seen ;
He damns the climate, and complains of spleen,
Meanwhile the South, rising with dabbled wings,
A sable cloud athwart the welkin flings,
That swill'd more liquor than it could contain,
And, like a drunkard, gives it up again.
Brisk Susan whips her linen from the rope,
Whilst the first drizzling Shower is borne aslope :
Such is that sprinkling which some careless quean
Flirts on you from her mop, but not so clean.
You fly, invoke the gods ; then, turning, stop
To rail ; she, singing, still whirls on her mop.
Not yet the dust had shunn'd th* unequal strife,
But, aided by the wind, fought still for life;
And, wafted with its foe by violent gust,
'Twas doubtful which was rain, and which was dust.
Ah ! where must needy Poet seek for aid,
When dust and rain at once his coat invade ?
His only coat, where dust, confus'd with rain,
Roughen the nap, and leave a mingled stain ?
Now, in contiguous drops the flood comes down,
Threatening with deluge this devoted town.
To shops in crowds the daggled females fly,
Pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy.
The Templar spruce, while every spout 's abroach,
Stays till 'tis fair, yet seems to call a coach.
The tuck'd-up sempstress walks with hasty strides,
While streams run down her oifd umbrella's sides.
NO 238. TATLER, 129
Here various kinds, by various fortunes led,
Commence acquaintance underneath a shed.
Triumphant Tories and desponding Whigs
Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs.
Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient sits,
While spouts run clattering o'er the roof by fits ;
And ever and anon with frightful din
The leather sounds ; he trembles from within.
So when Troy-chairmen bore the wooden steed,
Pregnant with Greeks impatient to be freed
(Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do,
Instead of paying chairmen, run them through),
Laocoon struck the outside with bis spear,
And each imprison'd hero quak'd for fear.
Now from all parts the swelling kennels flow,
And bear their trophies with them as they go :
Filth of all hues and odours seem to tell
What street they sail'd from, by their sight and smell.
They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force,
From Smithfield or St. 'Pulchre's shape their course,
And in huge confluent join'd at Snow-hill ridge,.
Fall from the conduit, prone to Holborn-bridge.
Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts, and blood,)
Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd in mud, >
Dead cats and turnip-tops come tumbling down the flood. 3
130 TATLBR. N239-
239. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1710.
Mecum certasseferetur?' OVID. Met. xiii. 20.
Shall he contend with me to get a name ?
R. WYNNE.
From my own Apartment, October IS.
IT is ridiculous for any man to criticise on the works
of another, who has not distinguished himself by his
own performances. A judge would make but an in-
different figure who had never been known at the bar.
Cicero was reputed the greatest orator of his age and
country, before he wrote a book " De Oratore ;" and
Horace the greatest poet, before he published his
" Art of Poetry." This observation arises naturally
in any one who casts his eye upon this last-mentioned
author, where he will find the criticisms placed in the
latter end of his book, that is, after the finest odes
and satires in the Latin tongue.
A modern, whose name I shall not mention, be-
cause I would not make a silly paper sell, was born
a Critic and an Examiner, and, like one of the race
of the serpent's teeth, came into the world with a
sword in his hand. His works put me in mind of
the story that is told of the German monk, who
was taking a catalogue of a friend's library, and
meeting with a Hebrew book in it, entered it under
the title of, " A book that has the beginning where
the end should be." This author, in the last of his
crudities, has amassed together a heap of quotations,
o 239. TATLER. 131
to prove that Horace and Virgil were both of them
modester men than myself; and if his works were
to live as long as mine, they might possibly give
posterity a notion, that Isaac Bickerstaff was a very
conceited old fellow, and as vain a man as either
Tully or Sir Francis Bacon. Had this serious writer
fallen upon me only, I could have overlooked it ;
but to see Cicero abused is, I must confess, what I
cannot bear. The censure he passes upon this great
man runs thus : " The itch of being very abusive is
almost inseparable from vain glory, Tully has these
two faults in so high a degree, that nothing but his
being the best writer in the world can make amends
for them." The scurrilous wretch goes on to say,
that I am as bad as Tully. His words are these :
" And yet the Tatler, in his Paper of September
the twenty-sixth, has outdone them both. He
speaks of himself with more arrogance, and with
more insolence of others. I am afraid, by his dis-
course, this gentleman has no more read Plutarch
than he has Tully. It he had, he would have ob-
served a passage in that historian, wherein he has,
with great delicacy, distinguished between two
passions which are usually complicated in human
nature, and which an ordinary writer would not
have thought of separating. Not having my Greek
spectacles by me, I shall quote the passage word for
word as I find it translated to my hand. " Never-
theless, though he was intemperately fond of his
own praise, yet he was very free from envying
others, and most liberally profuse in commending
both the ancients and his contemporaries, as is to be
understood by his writings; and many of those
sayings are still recorded, as that concerning Aris-
totle, ' that he was a river of flowing gold :' of
Plato's (lialog-ue, ' that if Jupiter were to speak,, he
would discourse as he did/ Theophrastus he was
132 TATLKR. NO 239.
wont to call his peculiar delight : and being asked,
' which of Demosthenes his orations he liked best ?'
He answered, ' The longest.'
" And as for the eminent men of his own time,
either for eloquence or philosophy, there was not
one of them which he did not, by writing or speak-
ing favourably of, render more illustrious."
Thus the critic tells us, that Cicero was exces-
sively vain-glorious and abusive ; Plutarch, that he
was vain, but not abusive. Let the reader believe
which of them he pleases.
After this he complains to the world, that I call
him names, and that, in my passion, I said he was
a flea, a louse, an owl, a bat, a small wit a
scribbler, and a nibbler. When he had thus be-
spoken his reader's pity, he falls into that admirable
vein of mirth, which I shall set down at length, it
being an exquisite piece of raillery, and written in
great gaiety of heart. " After this list of names,"
viz. flea, louse, owl, bat, &c. " I was surprised to
hear him say, that he has hitherto kept his temper
pretty well ; I wonder how he will write when he
has lost his temper ! I suppose, as he is now very
angry and unmannerly, he will then be exceeding
courteous and good-humoured." If I can outlive
this raillery, I shall be able to bear any thing.
There is a method of criticism made use of by
this author, for I shall take care how I call him a
scribbler again, which may turn into ridicule any
work that was ever written, wherein there is a va-
riety of thoughts. This the reader will observe in
the following words: "He," meaning me, "is so
intent upon being something extraordinary, that he
scarce knows what he would be ; and is as fruitful
in his similes as a brother of his whom I lately took
notice of. In the compass of a few lines he com-
pares himself to a fox, to Daniel Burgess, to the
V><239. TATLER. 133
Knight of the Red Cross, to an oak with ivy about it,
and to a great man with an equipage." I think my-
self as much honoured by being joined in this part
of his paper with the gentleman whom he here calls
my brother, as I am in the beginning of it, by being
mentioned with Horace and Virgil.
It is very hard that a man cannot publish ten
papers without stealing from himself; but to show
you that this is only a knack of writing, and that the
author is got into a certain road of criticism, I shall
set down his remarks on the works of the gentleman
whom he here glances upon, as they stand in his
sixth Paper, and desire the reader to compare them
with the foregoing passage upon mine.
" In thirty lines his patron is a river, the primum
mobile, a pilot, a victim, the sun, any thing, and
nothing. He bestows increase, conceals his source,
makes the machine move, teaches to steer, expiates
our offences, raises vapours, and looks larger as he
sets."
What poem can be safe from this sort of criti-
cism ? I think I was never in my life so much of-
fended, as at a wag whom I once met with in a cof-
fee-house. He had in his hand one of the " Mis-
cellanies," and was reading the following short copy
of verses, which without flattery to the author is, I
think,, as beautiful in its kind as any one in the
English tongue :
Flavia the least and slightest toy
Can with resistless art employ.
This Fan in meaner hands would prove
An engine of, small force in love ;
But she, with -uch an air and mien,
Not to be told or safely seen,
Directs its wanton motions so,
That it wounds more than Cupid'i bow ;
Gives coolness to the matchless dame,
To every other breast a flame.
VOL. V. N
134 TATLER. NO 239.
When this coxcomb had done reading them,
"Hey-day!" says he, "what instrument is this
that Flavia employs in such a manner as is not to
be told, nor safely seen ? In ten lines it is a toy, a
Cupid's bow, a fan, and an engine in love. It
has wanton motions, it wounds, it cools, and in-
flames."
Such criticisms make a man of sense sick, and a
fool merry.
The next paragraph of the paper we are talking of,
falls upon somebody whom I am at a loss to guess
at : but I find the whole invective turns upon a
man, who, it seema, has been imprisoned for debt.
Whoever he was, I most heartily pity him ; but at
the same time must put the Examiner in mind, that
notwithstanding he is a Critic, he still ought to re-
member he is a Christian. Poverty was never
thought a proper subject for ridicule ; and I do not
remember that I ever met with a satire upon a
beggar.
As for those little retortings of my own ex-
pressions, of "being dull by design, witty in Oc-
tober, shining, excelling," and so forth.; they are
the common cavils of every witling, who has no
other method of showing his parts, but by little va-
riations and repetitions of the man's words whom he
attacks.
But the truth of it is, the paper before me, not
only in this particular, but in its very essence, is
like Ovid's Echo.
Qua nee reticere loquenti,
Nee prior ipsa loqui didicit OVID. Met. iii. 357-
She who in other's words her silence breaks,
Nor speaks herself but when another speaks.
ADDISON.
I should not have deserved the character of a
Censor, had I not animadverted upon the above-
NO <24O. TATLER. 135
mentioned author, by a gentle chastisement : but I
know my reader will not pardon me, unless I declare,
that nothing of this kind for the future, unless it be
written with some wit, shall divert me from my care
of the public.
N 240. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1710.
Ad populum phaleras. PERS. Sat. iii. 30.
Such pageantry be to the people shown:
There boast thy horse's trappings, and thy own.
DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, October 20.
I DO not remember that in any of my Lucubrations
I have touched upon that useful science of physic,
notwithstanding I have declared myself more than
once a professor of it. I have indeed joined the study
of astrology with it, because I never knew a physi-
cian recommended himself to the public, who had
not a sister art to embellish his knowledge in medi-
cine. It has been commonly observed, in compliment
to the ingenious of our profession, that Apollo was
god of verse as well as physic ; and, in all ages, the
most celebrated practitioners of our country were
the particular favourites of the Muses. Poetry to
physic is indeed like the gilding to a pill ; it makes
the art shine, and covers the severity of the doctor
with the agreeableness of the companion.
136 TATLER. N 240.
The very foundation of poetry is good sense, if
we may allow Horace to be a judge of the art.
Scribendi recte sapere est et principium et fans.
HOR. A?s Poet. 59.
Such judgment is the ground of writing-well.
ROSCOMMON.
And if so, we have reason to believe, that the
same man who writes well can prescribe well, if he
has applied himself to the study of both. Besides,
when we see a man making professions of two dif-
ferent sciences, it is natural for us to believe he is
no pretender in that which we are not judges of,
when we find him skilful in that which we under-
stand.
Ordinary quacks and charlatans are thoroughly
sensible how necessary it is to support themselves
by these collateral assistances, and therefore always
lay their claims to some supernumerary accom-
plishments, which are wholly foreign to their pro-
About twenty years ago it was impossible to walk
the streets, without having an advertisement thrust
into your hand, of a doctor " who had arrived at
the knowledge of the Green and Red Dragon, and
had discovered the female fern-seed." Nobody ever
knew what this meant ; but the Green and Red
Dragon so amused the people, that the doctor lived
very comfortably upon them. About the same
time there was pasted a very hard word npon every
corner of the streets. This, to the best of my re-
membrance, was
TETRACHYMAGOGON,
which drew great shoals of spectators about it, who
read the bill that it introduced with unspeakable
NO 240. TATLER. 137
curiosity ; and when they were sick, would have no-
body but this learned man for their physician.
I once received an advertisement of one " who had
studied thirty years by candle-light for the good of
his countrymen." He might have studied twice as
long by day-light, and never have been taken notice
of. But Lucubrations cannot be overvalued. There
are some who have gained themselves great reputa-
tion for physic by their birth, as the " seventh son
of a seventh son ;" and others by not being born at
all, as the unborn doctor, who, I hear, is lately gone
the way of his patients ; having died worth five hun-
dred pounds per annum, though he was not born to
a halfpenny.
My ingenious friend doctor Saffold succeeded my
old contemporary doctor Lilly in the studies both of
physic and astrology, to which he added that of
poetry, as was to be seen both upon the sign where
he lived, and in the pills which he distributed. He
was succeeded by Doctor Case, who erased the
verses of his predecessor out of the sign-post, and
substituted in their place two of his own, which were
as follow :
Within this place
Lives Doctor Case.
He is said to have got more by this distich, than
Mr. Dryden did by all his works. There would be
no end of enumerating the several imaginary per-
fections, and unaccountable artifices, by which this
tribe of men insnare the minds of the vulgar, and
gain crowds of admirers. I have seen the whole
front of a mountebank's stage, from one end to the
other, faced with patents, certificates, medals, and
great seals, by which the several princes of Europe
have testified their particular respect and esteem for
the Doctor. Every great man with a sounding title
138 TATLER. NO 240.
has been his patient. I believe I have seen twenty
mountebanks that have given physic to the Czar of
Muscovy. The Great Duke of Tuscany escapes no
better. The Elector of Brandenburgh was likewise
a very good patient.
This great condescension of the doctor draws upon
him much good-will from his audience ; and it is ten
to one, but if any of them be troubled with an aching
tooth, his ambition will prompt him to get it drawn
by a person, who has had so many princes, kings,
and emperors, under his hands.
I must not leave this subject without observing
that as physicians are apt to deal in poetry, apo-
thecaries endeavour to recommend themselves by
oratory, and are therefore, without controversy, the
most eloquent persons in the whole British nation.
I would not willingly discourage any of the arts, es-
pecially that of which I am an humble professor :
but I must confess, for the good of my native country,
I could wish there might be a suspension of physic
for some years, that our kingdom, which has been
so much exhausted by the wars, might have leave to
recruit itself.
As for myself, the only physic which has brought
me safe to almost the age of man, and which I pre-
scribe to all my friends, is Abstinence. This is cer-
tainly the best physic for prevention, and very often
the most effectual against a present distemper. In
short, my Recipe is, " Take nothing."
Were the body politic to be physicked like par-
ticular persons, I should venture to prescribe to it
after the same manner. I remember when our
whole island was shaken with an earthquake some
years ago, there was an impudent mountebank who
sold pills, which, as he told the country people,
were " very good against an earthquake." It may,
perhaps, be thought as absurd to prescribe a diet for
NO 241. TATLER. 139
the allaying popular commotions, and national fer-
ments. But I am verily persuaded, that if in such
a case a whole people were to enter into a course of
Abstinence, and eat nothing but water-gruel for a
fortnight, it would abate the rage and animosity of
parties, and not a little contribute to the cure of a
distracted nation. Such a. fast would have a natural
tendency to the procuring of those ends, for which
a/osf is usually proclaimed. If any man has a mind
to enter on such a voluntary Abstinence, it might not
be improper to give him the caution of Pythagoras
in particular ; Abstine & Fabis, " Abstain from
Beans :" that is, say the interpreters, " Meddle not
with elections ;" beans having been made use of by
the voters among the Athenians in the choice of
magistrates.
N 241. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1710.
- From my own Apartment, October 23.
A METHOD of spending one's time agreeably is a
thing so little studied, that the common amusement
of our young gentlemen, especially of such as are at
a distance from those of the first breeding, is Drink-
ing. This way of entertainment has custom on its
side ; but as much as it has prevailed, I believe
there have been very few companies that have been
guilty of excess this way, where there have not hap-
pened more accidents which make against, than for
the continuance of it. It is very common that events
140 TATLEB. NO 241.
arise from a debauch which are fatal, and always
such as are disagreeable. With all a man's reason
and good sense about him, his tongue is apt to utter
things out of mere gaiety of heart, which may dis-
please his best friends. Who then would trust him-
self to the power of wine, without saying more
against it, than that it raises the imagination, and
depresses the judgment ? Were there only this sin-
gle consideration, that we are less masters of our-
selves, when we drink in the least proportion above
the exigencies of thirst; I say, were this all that
could be objected, it were sufficient to make us ab-
hor this vice. But we may go on to say, that as he
who drinks but a little is not master of himself, so
he who drinks much is a slave to himself. As for
my part, I ever esteemed a Drunkard of all vicious
persons the most vicious : for, if our actions are to
be weighed and considered according to the inten-
tion of them, what can we think of him, who puts
himself into a circumstance wherein he can have no
intention at all, but incapacitates himself for the du-
ties and offices of life, by a suspension of all his fa-
culties ? If a man considers that he cannot, under
the oppression of drink, be a friend, a gentleman,
a master, or a subject : that he has so long banished
himself from all that is dear, and given up all that
is sacred to him : he would even then think of a de-
bauch with horror. But when he looks still further,
and acknowledges, that he is not only expelled out
of all the relations of life, but also liable to offend
against them all ; what words can express the terror
and detestation he would have of such a condition ?
And yet he owns all this of himself, who says he was
drunk last night.
As I have all along persisted in it, that all the vi-
cious in general are in a state of death ; so I think I
NO 241. TATLBR. 141
may add to the non-existence of Drunkards, that they
died by their own hands. He is certainly as guilty
of suicide who perishes by a slow, as he that is dis-
patched by an immediate poison. In my last Lucu-
.bration I proposed the general use of water-gruel, and
[hinted that it might not be amiss at this very season.
But as there are some whose cases, in regard to their
families, will not admit of delay ; I have used my
interest in several wards of the city, that the whole-
some restorative above-mentioned may be given in
tavern-kitchens to all the morning-draughts-men,
within the walls, when they call for wine before
noon. For a further restraint and mark upon such
persons, I have given orders, that in all the offices
where policies are drawn upon lives, it shall be add-
ed to the article which prohibits that the nominee
should cross the sea, the words " Provided also,
that the above-mentioned A. B. thall not drink be-
fore dinner during the term mentioned in this in-
denture."
I am not without hopes, that by this method I
shall bring some unsizable friends of mine into
shape and breadth, as well as others, who are languid
and consumptive, into health and vigour. Most of
the self-murderers whom I yet hinted at, are such as
preserve a certain regularity in taking their poison,
and make it mix pretty well with their food. But
the most conspicuous of those who destroy them-
selves, are such as in their youth fall into this sort of
debauchery ; and contract a certain uneasiness of
spirit, which is not to be diverted but by tippling as
often as they can fall into company in the day, and
conclude with downright Drunkenness at night.
These gentlemen never know the satisfaction of
youth ; but skip the years of manhood, and are de-
crepit soon after they are of age. I was godfather
142 TATLBR. NO 241.
to one of these old fellows. He is now three-and-
thirty, which is the grand climacteric of a young
Drunkard. I went to visit the crazy wretch this
morning, with no other purpose but to rally him
under the pain and uneasiness of being sober.
But as our faults are double when they affect
others besides ourselves, so this vice is still more odi-
ous in a married than a single man. He that is the
husband of a woman of honour, and comes home
over-loaded with wine, is still more contemptible in
proportion to the regard we have to the unhappy
consort of his bestiality. The imagination cannot
shape to itself any thing more monstrous and unna-
tural than the familiarities between Drunkenness and
Chastity. The wretched Astraea, who is the perfec-
tion of beauty and innocence, has long been thus
cendemned for life. The romantic tales of virgins
devoted to the jaws of monsters, have nothing in
them so terrible as the gift of Astraea to that
Bacchanal.
The reflection of such a match as spotless inno-
cence with abandoned lewdness, is what puts this
vice in the worst figure it can bear with regard to
others ; but when it is looked upon with respect only
to the Drunkard himself, it has deformities enough
to make it disagreeable, which may be summed up
in a word by allowing that he who resigns his reason,
is actually guilty of all that he is liable to from the
want of reason.
P. S. Among many other enormities, there are two
in the following letters which I think should be sud-
denly amended t but since they are sins of omission
only, I shall not make remarks upon them until I
find the delinquents persist in their errors ; and the
inserting the letters themselves shall be all their pre-
sent admonition.
N" 241. TATJLER. 143
" MR. BICKERSTAFF, October 16.
" Several that frequent divine-service at Saint
Paul's, as well as myself, having with great satisfac-
tion, observed the good effect which your animadver-
sion had on an excess in performance there ; it is re-
quested, that you will take notice of a contrary fault,
which is, the unconcerned silence, and the motionless
postures, of others who come thither. If this cus-
tom prevails, the congregatiou will resemble an au-
dience at a play-house, or, rather, a silent meeting of
quakers. Your censuring such church-mutes, in the
manner you think fit, may make these dissenters join
with us, out of fear lest you should further animad-
vert upon their non-conformity. According as this
succeeds, you shall hear from, Sir,
Your most humble servant,
B. B."
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" I was the other day in company with a gentle-
man, who, in reciting his own qualifications, con-
cluded every period with these words, the best of any
man in England. Thus, for example : he kept the
best house of any man in England ; he understood
this, and that, and the other, the best of any man in
England. How harsh and ungrateful soever this ex-
pression might sound to one of my nation, yet the
gentleman was one whom it no ways became me to
interrupt ; but perhaps a new term put into his by-
words (as they call a sentence a man particularly af-
fects) may cure him. I therefore took a resolution
to apply to you, who, I dare say, can easily persuade
this gentleman, whom I cannot believe an enemy to
the Union, to amend his phrase, and be hereafter the
wisest of any man in Great-Britain. I am, Sir,
Your most humble servant,
SCOTO-BRITANNUS.
144 TATiKR. Mo 242.
ADVERTISEMENT.
"Whereas Mr. Humphry Treelooby, wearing his
own hair, a pair of buck-skin breeches, a hunting-
whip, with a new pair of spurs, has complained to
the Censor, that on Thursday last he was defrauded
of half-a-crown, under pretence of a duty to the sex-
ton for seeing the cathedral of St. Paul, London : it
is hereby ordered, that none hereafter require above
sixpence of any country gentleman under the age of
twenty-five for that liberty ; and that all which shall
be received above the said sum, of any person, for
beholding the inside of that sacred edifice, be forth-
with paid to Mr. John Morphew, for the use of Mr.
Bickerstaff, under pain of further censure on the
above-mentioned extortion."
N 242. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1710.
Quis inifjute
Tampatiens urbis, tam/erreus ut teneatse?
Jur. Sat. i. 30.
To view so lewd a town, and to refrain,
What hoops of iron could my spleen contain ?
DRYDEN.
From, my -own Apartment, October 25.
IT ^was with very great displeasure I heard this day
a man say of a companion of his with an air of ap-
probation, " You know Tom never fails of saying
NO 242. TATLKR. 145
a spiteful thing. He has a great deal of wit, but
satire is his particular talent. Did you mind how
he put the young fellow out of countenance that
pretended to talk to him ?" Such impertinent ap-
plauses, which one meets with every day, put me
upon considering what true raillery and satire were
in themselves ; and this, methought, occurred to
me from reflection upon the great and excellent per-
sons that were admired for talents this way. When
I had run over several such in my thoughts, I con-
cluded, however unaccountable the assertion might
appear at first sight, that good-nature was an essen-
tial quality in a satirist, and that all the sentiments
which are beautiful in this way of writing, must
proceed from that quality in the author. Good-na-
ture produces a disdain of all baseness, vice, and
folly ; which prompts them to express themselves
with smartness against the errors of men, without
bitterness towards their persons. This quality keeps
the mind in equanimity, and never lets an offence
unseasonably throw a man out of his character.
When Virgil said, " he that did not hate Bavius
might love Maevius," he was in perfect good hu-
mour ; and was not so much moved at their absurdi-
ties as passionately to call them sots or blockheads
in a direct invective, but laughed at them with a de-
licacy of scorn, without any mixture of anger.
The best good man, with the worst-natur'd muse,
was the character among us of a gentleman as fa-
mous for his humanity as his wit.
The ordinary subjects for satire are such as incite
the greatest indignation in the best tempers, and con-
sequently men of such a make are the best qualified
for speaking of the offences in human life. These
men can behold vice and folly, when they- injure
persons to whom they arc wholly unacquainted, with
VOL. v. o
146 TATLKR. N 24*2.
the same severity as others resent the ills they do to
themselves. A good-natured man cannot see an
overbearing fellow put a bashful man of merit out
of countenance, or outstrip him in the pursuit of
any advantage, but he is on fire to succour the op-
pressed, to produce the merit of the one, and con-
front the impudence of the other.
The men of the greatest character in this kind
were Horace and Juvenal. There is not, that I re-
member, one ill-natured expression in all their writ-
ings, not one sentence of severity, which does not
apparently proceed from the contrary disposition.
Whoever reads them, will, I believe, be of this
mind ; and if they were read with this view, it
might possibly persuade our young fellows, that
they may be very witty men without speaking ill of
any but those who deserve it. But, in the perusal
of these writers, it may not be unnecessary to con-
sider, that they lived in very different times. Horace
was intimate with a prince of the greatest goodness
and humanity imaginable, and his court was formed
after his example : therefore the faults that poet falls
upon were little inconsistencies in behaviour, false
pretences to politeness, or impertinent affectations of
what men were not fit for. Vices of a coarser sort
could not come under his consideration, or enter the
palace of Augustus. Juvenal, on the other hand,
lived under Domitian, in whose reign every thing
that was great and noble was banished the habita-
tions of the men in power. Therefore he attacks
vice as it passes by in triumph, not as it breaks into
conversation. The fall of empire, contempt of glorj r ,
and a general degeneracy of manners, are before his
eyes in all his writings. In the days of Augustus,
to have talked like Juvenal had been madness ; or
in those of Domitian, like Horace. Morality and
virtue are every where recommended in Horace, as
NO 242. TATLER. 147
became a man in a polite court, from the beauty,
the propriety, the convenience of pursuing them.
Vice and corruption are attacked by Juvenal in a
style which denotes, he fears he shall not be heard
without he calls to them in their own language, with
a barefaced mention of the villanies and obscenities
of his contemporaries.
This accidental talk of these two great men car-
ries me from my design, which was to tell some
coxcombs that run about this town with the name of
smart satirical fellows, that they are by no means
qualified for the characters they pretend to, of being
severe upon other men ; for they want good nature.
There is no foundation in them for arriving at what
they aim at ; and they may as well pretend to flat-
ter as rally agreeably, without being good-natured.
There is a certain impartiality necessary to make
what a man says bear any weight with those he
speaks to. This quality, with respect to men's er-
rors and vices, is never seen but in good-natured
men. They have ever such a frankness of mind,
and benevolence to all men, that they cannot re-
ceive impressions of unkindness without mature de-
liberation ; and writing or speaking ill of a man up-
on personal considerations, is so irreparable and
mean an injury, that no one possessed of this quality
is capable of doing it : but in all ages there have been
interpreters to authors when living, of the same ge-
nius with the commentators into whose hands they
fall when dead. I dare say it is impossible for any
man of more wit than one of these to take any of
the four-and-twenty letters, and form out of them a
name to describe the character of a vicious man with
greater life, but one of these would immediately cry,
" Mr. Such-a-one is meant in that place." But
the truth of it is, satirists describe the age, and back-
biters assign their descriptions to private men.
148 TATLER. NO 242.
In all terms of reproof, when the sentence appears
to arise from personal hatred or passion, it is not
then made the cause of mankind, but a misunder-
standing between two persons. For this reason the
representations of a good-natured man bear a plea-
santry in them, which shews there is no malignity
at heart, and by consequence they are attended to
by his hearers or readers, because they are unpre-
judiced. This difference is only what is due to him;
for no man thoroughly nettled can say a thing ge-
neral enough to pass off with the air of an opinion
declared, and not a passion gratified. I remember
a humourous fellow at Oxford, when he heard any
one had spoken ill of him, used to say, " I will
not take my revenge of him until I have forgiven
him." What he meant by this was, that he would
not enter upon this subject until it was grown as
indifferent to him as any other : and I have by this
rule, seen him more than once triumph over his ad-
versary with an inimitable spirit and humour: for
he came to the assault against a man full of sore
places, and he himself invulnerable.
There is no possibility of succeeding in a satiri-
cal way of writing or speaking, except a man throws
himself quite out of the question. It is great vanity
to think any one will attend to a thing, because it
is your quarrel. You must make your satire the
concern of society in general if you would have it
regarded. When it is so, the good-nature of a man
of wit will prompt him to many brisk and disdain-
ful sentiments and replies, to which all the malice
in the world will not be able to repartee.
N 243. TATLER. 149
NO 243. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 171O.
Infert se septus nebula, mirabile dicta !
Per medios, miscttque viris, neque cernitur ulK.
VIRG. /En. i. 443.
Conceal'd in clouds, prodigious to relate ?
He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy throng,
and pass'd unseen along.
DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, October 27.
I HAVE somewhere made mention of Gyges's ring ;
and intimated to my reader, that it was at present in
my possession, though I have not since made any
use of it. The tradition concerning this ring is very
romantic, and taken notice of both by Plato and
Tully, who each of them make an admirable use of
it for the advancement of morality. This Gyges
was the master shepherd to king Candaules. As he
was wandering over the plains of Lydia, he saw a
great chasm in the earth, and had the curiosity to
enter it. After having descended pretty far into it
he found the statue of a horse in brass, with doors
in the sides of it. Upon opening them, he found
the body of a dead man, bigger than ordinary, with
a ring upon his finger, which he took off, and put
upon his own. The virtues of it were much greater
than he at first imagined ; for upon his going in-
to the assembly of shepherds, he observed, that he
was invisible when he turned the stone of the ring
within the palm of his hand, and visible when he
o2
J5O TATLER. NO 243.
turned it towards his company. Had Plato and
Cicero been as well versed in the occult sciences as
I am, they would have found a great deal of mystic
learning in this tradition : but it is impossible for
an adept to be understood by one who is not an
adept.
As for myself, I have, with much study and ap-
plication, arrived at this great secret of making my-
self invisible, and by that means conveying myself
where I please ; or, to speak in Rosicrucian lore, I
have entered into the clifts of the earth, discovered
the brazen horse, and robbed the dead giant of his
ring. The tradition says further of Gyges, that by
the means of this ring he gained admission into the
most retired parts of the court, and made such use
of those opportunities, that he at length became
king of Lydia. For my own part, I, who have
always rather endeavoured to improve my mind
than my fortune, have turned this ring to no other
advantage, than to get a thorough insight into the
ways of men, and to make such observations upon
the errors of others as may be useful to the public,
whatever effect they may have upon myself.
About a week ago, not being able to sleep, I got
up, and put on my magical ring; and, with a thought,
transported myself into a chamber, where I saw a
light. I found it inhabited by a celebrated beauty,
though she is of that species of women which we
call a slattern. Her head-dress and one of her shoes
lay upon a chair, her petticoat in one corner of the
room, and her girdle that had a copy of verses
made upon it but the day before, with her thread
stockings, in the middle of the floor. I was so fool-
ishly officious, that I could hot forbear gathering up
her cloaths together, to lay them upon the chair that
stood by her bed-side ; 'when, to my great surprise,
after a little muttering, she cried out, " What do
NO 243. TATLKR. 151
you do ? Let my petticoat alone." I was startled
at first, but soon found that she was in a dream;
being one of those who, to use Shakspeare's ex-
pression, " are so loose of thought," that they utter
in their sleep every thing that passes in their ima-
gination. I left the apartment of this female rake,
and went into her neighbour's, where there lay a
male coquette. He had a bottle of salts hanging over
his head, and upon the table by his bed-side Suck-
ling's poems, with a little heap of black patches on
it. His snuff-box was within reach on a chair: but
while I was admiring the disposition which he made
of the several parts of his dress, his slumber seemed
interrupted by a pang that was accompanied by a
sudden oath, as he turned himself over hastily in his
bed. I did not care for seeing him in his nocturnal
pains, and left the room.
I was no sooner got into another bed-chamber,
but I heard very harsh words uttered in a smooth
uniform tone. I was amazed to hear so great a vo-
lubility in reproach, and thought it too coherent to
be spoken by one asleep ; but, upon looking nearer,
I saw the head-dress of the person who spoke,
which shewed her to be a female, with a man lying
by her side, broad awake, and as quiet as a lamb. I
could not but admire his exemplary patience, and
discovered by his whole behaviour, that he was then
lying under the discipline of a curtain lecture.
I was entertained in many other places with this
kind of nocturnal eloquence; but observed, that
most of those whom I found awake were kept so
either by envy or by love. Some of these were
sighing, and others cursing, in soliloquy; some
hugged their pillows, and others gnashed their
teeth.
The covetous I likewise found to be a very wake-
ful people. I happened to come into a room where
152 TATLER. NO 243.
one of them lay sick. His physician and his wife
were in a close whisper by his bed-side. I over-
heard the doctor say to the poor gentlewoman, " he
cannot possibly live until five in the morning." She
received it like the mistress of a family prepared
for all events. At the same instant came in a ser-
vant maid, who said, "Madam, the undertaker is
below, according to your order." The words were
scarce out of her mouth, when the sick man cried
out with a feeble voice, " Pray, doctor, how went
Bank-stock to-day at 'Change ?" This melancholy
object made me too serious for diverting myself fur-
ther this way. As I was going home, I saw a light
in a garret, and entering into it, heard a voice cry-
ing, and, hand, stand, band, fanned, tanned. I
concluded him by this, and the furniture of his room,
to be a lunatic ; but, upon listening a little longer,
perceived it was a poet, writing an heroic upon the
ensuing peace.
It was now towards morning, an hour when spi-
rits, witches, and conjurers, are obliged to retire to
their own apartments, and feeling the influence of
it, I was hastening home, when I saw a man had
got half way into a neighbour's house. I imme-
diately called to him, and turning my ring, appear-
ed in my proper person. There is something ma-
gisterial in the aspect of the Bickerstaffs, which
made him run away in confusion.
As I took a turn or two in my own lodging, I
was thinking that old as I was, I need not go to bed
alone, but that it was in my power to marry the
finest lady in this kingdom, if I would wed her with
this ring. For what a figure would she that should
have it make at a visit, with so perfect a know-
ledge as this would give her of all the scandal in the
town ? But, instead of endeavouring to dispose of
NO 244. TATLER. 153
myself and it in matrimony, I resolved to lend it
to my loving friend, the author of the " Atalantis,"
to furnish a new " Secret History of Secret Me-
moirs."
N244. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1710.
Quid voveat dulci nutricula majus alumno,
Quam sapere, et fari ut possit qu& sent in t ?
HOR. 1 Ep. iv. 8.
What can the fondest mother wish 'for more,
Ev'n for her darling son, than solid sense,
Perceptions clear, and flowing eloquence ?
R. WYNNE.
Will's Coffee-house, October 30.
IT is no easy matter, when people are advancing in
any thing, to prevent their going too fast for want of
patience. This happens in nothing more frequently
than in the prosecution of studies. Hence it is, that
we meet crowds who attempt to be eloquent before
they can speak. They affect the flowers of rhetoric
before they understand the parts of speech. In the
ordinary conversation of this town, there are so many
who can, as they call it, talk well, that there is not
one in twenty that talks to be understood. This
proceeds from an ambition to excel, or, as the term
is, to shine in company. The matter is not to make
themselves understood, but admired. They come to-
gether with a certain emulation, rather than benevo-
154 TATLER. NO 244.
lence. When you fall among such companions,
the safe way is to give yourself up, and let the ora-
tors declaim for your esteem, and trouble yourself
no further. It is said, that a poet must be born so ;
but I think it may be much better said of an orator,
especially when we talk of our town poets and ora-
tors ; but the town poets are full of rules and laws ;
the town orators go through thick and thin, and are,
forsooth, persons of such eminent natural parts, and
knowledge of the world, that they despise all men as
unexperienced scholastics, who wait for an occasion
before they speak, or who speak no more than is
necessary. They had half persuaded me to go to
the tavern the other night, but that a gentleman
whispered me, " Pr'ythee, Isaac, go with us ; there
is Tom Varnish will be there, and he is a fellow
that talks as well as any man in England."
I must confess, when a man expresses himself
well upon any occasion, and his falling into an ac-
count of any subject arises from a desire to oblige
the company, or from fulness of the circumstance
itself, so that his speaking of it at large is occasioned
only by the openness of a companion; I say, in such
a case as this, it is not only pardonable, but agree-
able, when a man takes the discourse to himself;
but when you see a fellow watch for opportunities
for being copious, it is excessively troublesome. A
man that stammers, if he has understanding, is to
be attended to with patience and good-nature ; but
he that speaks more than he needs, has no right to
such an indulgence. The man who has a defect in
his speech takes pains to come to you, while a man
of weak capacity, with fluency of speech, triumphs
in outrunning you. The stammerer strives to be fit
for your company ; the loquacious man endeavours
to shew you, you are not fit for his.
NO 244. TATLER. 155
With thoughts of this kind do I always enter into
that man's company who is recommended as a per-
son that talks well ; but if I were to choose the peo-
ple with whom I would spend my hours of conver-
sation, they should be certainly such as laboured no
farther than to make themselves readily and clearly
apprehended, and would have patience and curiosity
to understand me. To have good sense, and ability
to express it, are the most essential and necessary
qualities in companions. When thoughts rise in us
fit to utter, among familiar friends there needs but
very little care in cloathing them.
Urbanus is, I take it, a man one might live with
whole years, and enjoy all the freedom and improve-
ment imaginable, and yet be insensible of a contra-
diction to you in all the mistakes you can be guilty
of. His great good-will to his friends, has produced
in him such a general deference in his discourse,
that if he differs from you in his sense of any thing,
he introduces his own thoughts by some agreeable
circumlocution ; or, " he has often observed such
and such a circumstance that made him of another
opinion." Again, where another would be apt to
say, " this I am confident of, I may pretend to judge
of this matter as well as any body ;" Urbanus says,
" I am verily persuaded : I believe, one may con-
clude." In a word, there' is no man more clear in
his thoughts and expressions than he is, or speaks
with greater diffidence. You shall hardly find
one man of any consideration, but you shall observe
one of less consequence form himself after him. This
happens to Urbanus ; but the man who steals from
him almost every sentiment he utters in a whole
week, disguises the theft by carrying it with a quite
different air. Umbratilis knows Urbanus's doubt-
ful way of speaking proceeds from good-nature and
good-breeding, and not from uncertainty in his opi-
156 TATLER. NO 244.
nions. Umbratilis, therefore, has no more to do but
repeat the thoughts of Urbanus in a positive man-
ner, and appear to the undiscerning a wjser man
than the person from whom he borrows : but those
who know him, can see the servant in his master's
habit ; and the more he struts, the less do his cloaths
appear his own.
In conversation, the medium is neither to affect
silence or eloquence ; not to value our approbation,
and to endeavour to excel us who are of your com-
pany, are equal injuries. The great enemies there-
fore to good company, and those who transgress
most against the laws of equality, which is the life
of it, are, the clown, the wit, and the pedant. A
clown, when he has sense, is conscious of his want
of education, and, with an aukward bluntness,
hopes to keep himself in countenance by overthrow-
ing the use of all polite behaviour. He takes advan-
tage of the restraint good-breeding lays upon others
not to offend him, to trespass against them, and is
under the man's own shelter while he intrudes upon
him. The fellows of this class are very frequent in
the repetition of the words rough and manly. When
these people happen to be by their fortunes of the
rank of gentlemen, they defend their other absurdi-
ties by an impertinent courage ; and, to help out
the defect of their behaviour, add their being dan-
gerous to their being disagreeable. This gentleman
( though he displeases, professes to do so ; and,
knowing that, dares still go on to do so) is not
so painful a companion, as he who will please you
against your will, and resolves to be a wit.
This man, upon all occasions, and whoever he
falls in company with, talks in the same circle, and
in the same round of chat which he has learned at
one of the tables of this coffee house. As poetry is
in itself an elevation above ordinary and common
NO 244. TATLER. 157
sentiments ; so there is no fop so very near a mad-
man in, indifferent company as a poetical one. He
is not apprehensive that the generality of the world
are intent upon the business of their own fortune
and profession, and have as little capacity as curi-
osity to enter into matters of ornament or specula-
tion. I remember at a full table in the city, one of
these ubiquitary wits was entertaining the company
with a soliloquy, for so I call it when a man talks
to those who do not understand him, concerning
wit and humour. An honest gentleman who sat next
me, and was worth half a plumb*, stared at him, and
observing there was some sense, as he thought, mixt
with his impertinence, whispered me, " Take my
word for it, this fellow is more knave than fool."
This was all my good friend's applause of the wittiest
man of talk that I was ever present at, which
wanted nothing to make it excellent, but that there
was no occasion for it.
The pedant is so obvious to ridicule, that it would
be to be one to offer to explain him. He is a gentle-
man so well known, that there is none but those of
his own class who do not laugh at and avoid him.
Pedantry proceeds from much reading and little un-
derstanding. A pedant among men of learning and
sense, is like an ignorant servant giving an account
of 'a polite conversation. You may h'nd he has
brought with him more than could have entered
into his head without being there, but still that he
is not a bit wiser than if he had not been there
at all.
* Fifty thousand pounds.
VOL. V.
158 TATLER. NO 245.
N 245. THURSDAY, NOVEMBERS, 1710.
From my own Apartment, November 1.
THE lady hereafter mentioned, having come to me
in very great haste, and paid me much above the
usual fee, as a cunning-man to find her stolen
goods, and also having approved my late discourse
of advertisements, obliged me to draw up this, and
insert it in the body of my paper.
ADVERTISEMENT.
*** Whereas Bridget Howd'ye, late servant to
the lady Fardingale, a short, thick, lively, hard-
favoured wench of about twenty-nine years of age,
her eyes small and bleared, her nose very broad at
bottom, and turning up at the end, her mouth wide,
and lips of an unusual thickness, two teeth out be-
fore, the rest black and uneven, the tip of her left
ear being of a mouse colour, her voice' loud and
shrill, quick of speech, and something of a Welsh
accent, withdrew herself on Wednesday last from
her ladyship's dwelling house, and, with the help
of her consorts, carried off the following goods of
her said lady, viz. a thick wadded callico wrapper,
a musk-coloured velvet mantle lined with squirrel
skins, eight night-shifts, four pair of silk stockings
curiously darned, six pair of laced shoes, new and
old, with the heels of half two inches higher than
their fellows ; a quilted petticoat of the largest size,
and one of canvas with whale-bone hoops ; three
NO 245. TATLBR. 159
pair of stays, bolstered below the left shoulder, two
pair of hips of the newest fashion, six round-about
aprons with pockets, and four striped muslin night-
rails very little frayed ; a silver pot for coffee or cho-
colate, the lid much bruised : a broad-brimmed flat
silver plate for sugar with Rhenish wine ; a silver
ladle for plumb-porridge; a silver cheese-toaster
with three tongues, an ebony handle, and silvering
at the end ; a silver posnet to butter eggs ; one
caudle and two cordial-water cups, two cocoa-cups,
and an ostrich's egg, with rims and feet of silver, a
marrow-spoon with a scoop at the other end, a silver
orange-strainer, eight sweet-meat spoons made with
forks at the end, an agate-handle knife and fork in
a sheath, a silver tongue-scraper, a silver tobacco-
box, with a tulip graved on the top ; and a Bible
bound in shagreen, with gilt leaves and clasps, never
opened but once. Also a small cabinet, with six
drawers inlaid with red tortoise-shell, and brass gilt
ornaments at the four corners, in which were two
leather forehead cloths, three pair of oiled dog-skin
gloves, seven cakes of superfine Spanish wool, half-
a-dozen of Portugal dishes, and a quire of paper
from thence : two pair of bran-new plumpers, four
black-lead combs, three pair of fashionable eyebrows,
two sets of ivory teeth, little the worse for wearing,
and one pair of box for common use ; Adam and
Eve in bugle-work, without fig-leaves, upon canvas,
curiously wrought with her ladyship's own hand;
several nlligrane curiosities ; a crotchet of one hun-
dred and twenty-two diamonds, set strong and deep
in silver, with a rump-jewel after the same fashion ;
bracelets of braided hair, pomander and seed pearl ;
a large old purple velvet purse embroidered, and
shutting with a spring, containing two pictures in
miniature, the features visible ; a broad thick gold
ring with a hand-in-hand engraved upon it, and
b60 TATLER. NO 245.
with this poesy, " While life does last, I'll hold
thee fast ;" another set round with small rubies and
sparks, six wanting ; another of Turkey-stone,
cracked through the middle ; an Elizabeth and four
Jacobus's, one guinea, the first of the coin, an an-
fel with a hole bored through, a broken half of a
panish piece of gold, a crown-piece with the
breeches, an old nine-pence bent both ways by Lilly
the almanack-maker for luck at langteraloo, and
twelve of the shells called blackmoor's teeth ; one
small amber box with apoplectic balsam, and one
silver-gilt of a larger size for cashu and carraway
comfits, to be taken at long sermons, the lid ena-
melled, representing a Cupid fishing for hearts, with
a piece of gold on his hook ; over his head this
rhyme, " Only with gold, you me shall hold." In
the lower drawer was a large new gold repeating
watch made by a Frenchman ; a gold chain, and all
the proper appurtenances hung upon steel swivels,
to wit, lockets with the hair of dead and living lo-
vers, seals with arms, emblems and devices cut in
cornelian, agate, and onyx, with Cupids, hearts,
darts, altars, flames, rocks, pickaxes, roses, thorns,
and sunflowers ; as also a variety of ingenious French
mottos ; together with gold etuys for quills, scissars,
needles, thimbles, and a sponge dipped in Hungary
water, left but the night before by a young lady
going upon a frolic incog. There was also a bundle
of letters, dated between the years one thousand six
hundred and seventy, and one thousand six hundred
and eighty-two, most of them signed Philander, the
rest Strephon, Amyntas, Corydon, and Adonis ; to-
gether with a collection of receipts to make pastes
for the hands, pomatums, lip-salves, white-pots,
beautifying creams, water of talc, and frog spawn
water ; decoctions for clearing the complexion, and
an approved medicine to procure abortion.
NO 245. TATLER. 161
Whoever can discover the aforesaid goods, so
that they may be had again, shall have fifty guineas
for the whole, or proportionably for any part.
N. B. Her ladyship is pleased to promise ten
pounds for the pacquet of letters over and above, or
five for Philander's only, being her first love. " My
lady bestows those of Strephon to the finder, being
so written, that they may serve to any woman who
reads them."
P. S. As I am a patron of persons who have no
other friend to apply to, I cannot suppress the fol-
lowing complaint :
" SIR,
" I am a blackmoor boy, and have, by my lady's
order, been christened by the chaplain. The good
man has gone further with me, and told me a great
deal of good news : as, that I am as good as my lady
herself as I am a Christian, and many other things :
but for all this, the parrot, who came over with me
from our country, is as much esteemed by her as I
am. Besides this, the shock-dog has a collar that
cost almost as much as mine. I desire also to know,
whether now I am a Christian, I am obliged to dress
like a Turk, and wear a turbant.
" I am, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" POMPEV."
162 TATLER. N<> 246.
N 246. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 1710.
Vitiis nemo sine nascitur ; optimus ille
Qui minimis urgetur. HOR. 1 Sat. iii. C8.
We have all our vices, and the best
Is he, who with the fewest is opprest. FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, November 3.
WHEN one considers the turn which conversation
takes in almost every set of acquaintance, club, or
assembly, in this town or kingdom, one cannot but
observe, that in spite of what I am every day say-
ing, and all the moral writers since the beginning
of the world have said, the subject of discourse is
generally upon one another's faults. This in a great
measure proceeds from self-conceit, which were to
be endured in one or other individual person ; but
the folly has spread itself almost over all the species ;
and one cannot only say, Tom, Jack, or Will, but
in general, " that man is a coxcomb." From this
source it is, that any excellence is faintly received,
any imperfection unmercifully exposed. But if
things were put in a true light, and we would take
time to consider, that man, in his very nature, is
an imperfect being, our sense of this matter would
be immediately altered, and the word imperfection
would not carry an unkinder idea than the word
humanity. It is a pleasant story that we, forsooth,
who are the only imperfect creatures in the universe,
are the only beings that will not allow of imperfec-
tion. Somebody has taken notice, that we stand
NO 246. TATLBR. 163
in the middle of existencies, and are, by this one
circumstance, the most unhappy of all others. The
brutes are guided by instinct, and know no sorrow ;
the angels have knowledge, and they are happy ;
but men are governed by opinion, which is I know
not what mixture of instinct and knowledge, and
are neither indolent nor happy. It is very observa-
ble, that critics are a people between the learned
and the ignorant, and, by that situation, enjoy the
tranquillity of neither. As critics stand among
men, so do men in general between brutes and
angels. Thus every man, as he is a critic and a
coxcomb, until improved by reason and speculation,
is ever forgetting himself, and laying open the faults
of others.
At the same time that I am talking of the cruelty
of urging people's faults with severity, I cannot
but bewail some which men are guilty of for want
of admonition. These are such as they can easily
mend, and nobody tells them of, for which reason
I shall make use of the penny-post (as I have with
success to several young ladies about turning their
eyes, and holding up their heads) to certain gentle-
men, whom I remark habitually guilty of what they
may reform in a moment. There is a fat fellow,
whom I have long remarked wearing his breast open
in the midst of winter, out of an affectation of youth.
I have therefore sent him just now the following let-
ter in my physical capacity :
" SIR,
" From the twentieth instant to the first of May
next, both days inclusive, I beg of you to button
your waistcoat from your collar to your waistband.
I am your most humble servant,
ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Philomath."
164 TATLER. NO 246,
There is a very handsome well-shaped youth that
frequents the coffee-houses about Charing-Cross,
and ties a very pretty ribbon with a cross of jewels
at his breast. This being something new, and a
thing in which the gentleman may offend the He-
rald's-office, I have addressed myself to him as I am
Censor.
" DEAR COUNTRYMAN,
" Was that ensign of honour which you wear,
given you by a prince or a lady that you nave serv-
ed ? If you bear it as an absent lover, please to
hang it on a black ribbon : if as a rewarded sol-
dier, you may have my licence to continue the red.
" Your faithful servant,
BICKERSTAFF, Censor."
These little intimations do great service, and are
very useful, not only to the persons themselves, but
to inform others how to conduct themselves, towards
them.
Instead of this honest private method, or a friend-
ly one face to face, of acquainting people with things
in their power to explain or amend, the usual way
among people is to take no notice of things you
can help, and nevertheless expose you for those you
cannot.
Plumbeus and Levis are constantly in each other's
company ; they would, if they took proper methods,,
be very agreeable companions ; but they so extrava-
gantly aim at what they are unfit for, and each of
them rallies the other so much in the wrong place,
that, instead of doing each other the offices of
friends, they do but instruct the rest of the world
to laugh at them with more knowledge and skill,
Plumbeus is of a saturnine and sullen complexion ;
Levis of a mercurial and airy disposition. Both
NO 246. TATLER. 165
these gentlemen have but very slow parts, but
would make a very good figure did they pursue
what they ought. If Plumbeus would take to bu-
siness, he would, in a few years, know the forms
of orders so well as to direct and dictate with so
much ease, to be thought a solid, able, and, at the
same time, a sure man of dispatch. Levis, with a
little reading, and coming more into company,
would soon be able to write a song, or lead up a
country-dance. Instead of these proper pursuits,
in obedience to their respective genuises, Plumbeus
endeavours to be a man of pleasure, and Levis the
man of business. This appears in their speech, and
in their dress; Plumbeus is ever egregiously fine,
and talking something like wit : Levis is ever ex-
tremely grave, and, with a silly face, repeating
maxims. These two pardon each other for affecting
what each is incapable of, the one to be wise, and
the other gay ; but are extremely critical in their
judgments of each other in their way towards what
they pretend to. Plumbeus acknowledges Levis to
be a man of great reach, because it is what Plum-
beus never cared for being thought himself, and
Levis allows Plumbeus to be an agreeable rake for
the same reason. Now were these dear friends to
be free with each other, as they ought to be, they
would change characters, and be both as commend-
able, instead of being as ridiculous, as their capaci-
ties will admit of.
Were it not too grave, all that I would urge on
this subject is, that men are bewildered when they
consider themselves in any other view than that of
strangers, who are in a place where it is no great
matter whether they can, or unreasonable to expect
they should, have every thing about them as well as
at their own home. This way of thinking is, per-
166 TATLER. N 246
haps, the only one that can put this being in a pro-
per posture for the ease of society. It is certain,
that this would reduce all faults into those which
proceed from malice, or dishonesty ; it would quite
change our manner of beholding one another, and
nothing that was not below a man's nature, would
be below his character. The arts of this life would
be proper advances towards the next ; and a very
good man would be a very fine gentleman. As it is
now, human life is inverted, and we have not
learned half the knowledge of this world before we
are dropping into another. Thus, instead of the
raptures and contemplations which naturally attend
a well-spent life from the approach of eternity, even
we old fellows are afraid of the ridicule of those who
are born since MS, and ashamed not to understand,
as well as peevish to resign, the mode, the fashion,
the ladies, the fiddles, the balls, and what not.
Dick Reptile, who does not want humour, is very
pleasant at our club when he sees an old fellow
touchy at being laughed at for any thing that is not
in the mode, and bawls in his ear, " Pry'thee do
not mind him ; tell him thou art mortal."
N 247- TATLKR. 167
N 247- TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1710.
Edepol, nee nos ccque sumut omnes inviste viris
Propter paucas, qua omnes faciunt dignte ut videamur malo.
TER. Hecyr. II. iii. 1.
How unjustly
Do husbands stretch there censure to all wives
For the offences of a few, whose vices
Reflect dishonour on the rest. COLMAN.
By Mrs. JENNY DISTAFF, Half Sister to
Mr. BlCKERSPAFF.
From my own Apartment, November 0.
MY brother having written the above piece of Latin,
desired me to take care of the rest of the ensuing
Paper. Towards this he bid me answer the follow-
ing letter, and said, nothing I could write properly
on the subject of it would be disagreeable to the
motto. It is the cause of my sex, and I therefore
enter upon it with great alacrity. The epistle is
literally thus :
Edinburg, Octob. 23.
" Mr. BlCKF.RSTAFF,
" I presume to lay before you an affair of mine,
and begs you'le be very sinceir in giving me your
judgment and advice in this matter, which is as
follows :
" A very agreeable young gentleman, who is en-
dowed with all the good qualities that can make a
man complete, has this long time naaid love to me
168 TATLER. NO 247.
in the most passional manner that was posable.
Ho has left nothing unsaid to make me believe his
affections real ; and, in his letters, expressed him-
self so hansomly and so tenderly, that I had all the
reason imaginable to belive him sincere. In short,
he positively has promised me he would marry me :
but I find all he said nothing ; for when the question
was put to him, he would not ; but still would con-
tinue my humble servant, and would go on at the
ould rate, repeating the assurences of his fidelity,
and at the same time has none in him. He now writs
to me in the same endearing style he ust to do,
would have me spake to no man but himself. His
estate is in his own hand, his father being dead.
My fortune at my own disposal, mine being also
dead, and to the full answers his estate. Pray, Sir,
be ingeinous, and tell me cordially, if you don't
think I shall do myself an injury if I keep company,
or a corospondance any longer with this gentleman.
I hope you will faver an honest North-Britain, as I
anS, with your advice in this amour ; for I am re-
solved just to follow your directions. Sir, you will
do me a sensable pleasure, and very great honour,
if you will please to insert this poor scrole, with
your answer to it, in your Tatler. Pray fail not to
give me your answer ; for on it depends the happi-
ness of
Disconsolat ALMEIRA."
" MADAM,
" I have frequently read over your letter, and
am of opinion, that, as lamentable as it is, it is the
most common of any evil that attends our sex. I
am very much troubled for the tenderness you ex-
press towards your lover, but rejoice at the same
time that you can so far surmount your inclination
for him, as to resolve to dismiss him when you
N<> 247. TATLKR. 169
have my brother's opinion for it. His sense of the
matter he desired me to communicate to you. Oh
Almeira! the common failing of our sex is to value
the merit of our lovers rather from the grace of
their address, than the sincerity of their hearts.
He has expressed himself so handsomely ! Can you
say that, after you have reason to doubt his truth ?
It is a melancholy thing, that in this circumstance
of love, which is the most important of all others
in female life, we women, who are, they say, al-
ways weak, are still weakest. The true way of va-
luing a man is, to consider his reputation among
the men. For want of this necessary rule towards
our conduct, when it is too late, we find ourselves
married to the outcasts of that sex ; and it is gene-
rally from being disagreeable among men, that fel-
lows endeavour to make themselves pleasing to us.
The little accomplishments of coming into a room
with a good air, and telling, while they are with
us, what we cannot hear among ourselves, usually
make up the whole of a woman's man's merit*- But
if we, when we began to reflect upon our lovers,
in the first place, considered what figures they make
iu the camp, at the bar, on the exchange, in their
country, or at court, we should behold them in quite
another view than at present.
" Were we to behave ourselves according to this
rule, we should not have the just imputation of fa-
vouring the silliest of mortals, to the great scandal
of the wisest, who value our favour as it advances
their pleasure, not their reputation. In a word,
Madam, if you would judge aright in love, you
must look upon it as in a case of friendship. Were
this gentleman treating with you for any thing but
yourself, when you had consented to his offer, if
he fell off, you would call him a cheat and an
VOL. v. Q
170 TATLER. NO 247.
impostor. There is, therefore, nothing left for you
to do but to despise him, and yourself for doing it
with regret. I am,
Madam, &c."
I have heard it often argued in conversation, that
this evil practice is owing to the perverted taste of
the wits in the last generation. A libertine on the
throne could very easily make the language and the
fashion turn his own way. Hence it is that woman
is treated as a mistress, and not a wife. It is from
the writings of those times, and the traditional ac-
counts of the debauches of their men of pleasure,
that the coxcombs now-a-days take upon them,
forsooth, to be false swains and perjured lovers.
Methinks I feel all the woman rise in me, when I
reflect upon the nauseous rogues that pretend to
deceive us ; wretches, that can never have it in
their power to overreach any thing living but their
mistresses ! In the name of goodness, if we are de-
signed by nature as suitable companions to the other
sex, why are we not treated accordingly ? If we
have merit, as some allow, why is it not as base in
men to injure us, as one another ? If we are the
insignificants that others call us, where is the tri-
umph in deceiving us ? But when I look at the
bottom of this disaster, and recollect the many of
my acquaintance whom I have known in the same
condition with the " Northern Lass" that occasions
this discourse, I must own I have ever found the
perfidiousness of men has been generally owing to
ourselves, and we have contributed to our own
deceit. The truth is, we do not conduct ourselves,
as we are courted, but as we are inclined. When
we let our imaginations take this unbridled swing,
it is not he that acts best is most lovely, but the that
NO 347. TATLER. 171
is most lovely acts best. When our humble ser-
vants make their addresses, we do not keep our-
selves enough disengaged to be judges of their merit ;
and we seldom give our judgment of our lover, un-
til we have lost our judgment for him.
While Clarinda was passionately attended and
addressed by Strephon, who is a man of sense and
knowledge in the world, and Cassio, who has a plen-
tiful fortune, and an excellent understanding, she
fell in love with Damon at a ball. From that mo-
ment, she that was before the most agreeable crea-
ture of all my acquaintance, cannot hear Strephon
speak, but it is something " so out of the way of
ladies' conversation :" and Cassio has never since
opened his mouth before us, but she whispers me,
" How seldom does riches and sense go together !"
The issue of all this is, that for the love of Damon,
who has neither experience, understanding, nor
wealth, she despises those advantages in the other
two which she finds wanting in her lover ; or else
thinks he has them for no other reason but because
he is her lover. This, and many other instances,
may be given in this town ; but I hope thus much
may suffice to prevent the growth of such evils at
Edinburgh.
1J2 TATLER. NO 24S.
N 248. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1710.
Media sese tulit obvia silva,
f^irginis os habitumque gerens: VIRG. JEn. i. 318.
Lo ! in the deep recesses of the wood
Before my eyes a beauteous form appears,
A virgin's dress and modest look she wears.
R. WYNNE.
By ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esquire.
From my own Apartment, November 9.
IT may perhaps appear ridiculous, but I must son-
fess, this last summer, as I was riding in Enfield-
chase, I met a young lady whom I could hardly get
out of my head, and, for aught I know, my heart,
ever since. She was mounted on a pad, with a very
well-fancied furniture. She set her horse with a
very graceful air ; and, when I saluted her with
my hat, she bowed to me so obligingly, that whe-
ther it was her civility or beauty that touched me so
much, I know not ; but I am sure I shall never
forget her. She dwells in my imagination in a
figure so much to her advantage, that if I were to
draw a picture of Youth, Health, Beauty, or Mo-
desty, I should represent any, or all of them, in the
person of that young woman.
I do not find that there are any descriptions in the
antient poets so beautiful as those they draw of
nymphs in their pastoral dresses and exercises. Vir-
gil gives Venus the habit of a Spartan huntress,
when she is to put ^Eneas in his way, and relieves
so 94S. TATJJER. 173
his cares with the most agreeable object imaginable.
Diana and her train are always described as inhabi-
tants of the woods, and followers of the chase. To
be well diverted, is the safest guard to innocence ;
and, methinks, it should be one of the first things
to be regarded among people of condition, to find
out proper amusements for young ladies. I cannot
but think this of riding might easily be revived
among them, when they consider how much it must
contribute to their beauty. This would lay up the
best portion they could bring into a family, a good
stock of health, to transmit to their posterity. .Such
a charming bloom, as this gives the countenance, is
very much preferable to the real or affected feeble-
ness or softness, which appear in the faces of our
modern beauties.
The comedy, called " The Ladies Cure," re-
presents the affectation of wan looks and languid
glances to a very entertaining extravagance. There
is, as the lady in the play complains, something so
robust in perfect health, that it is with her a point
of breeding and delicacy to appear in public with a
sickly air. But the natural gaiety and spirit which
shine in the complexion of such as form to them-
selves a sort of diverting industry, by choosing re-
creations that are exercises, surpass all the false or-
naments and graces that can be put on by applying
the whole dispensary of a toilet. An healthy body
and a cheerful mind, give charms as irresistible as
inimitable. The beauteous Dyctinna, who came to
town last week, has, from the constant prospect in
a delicious country, and the moderate exercise and
journies in the visits she made round it, contracted
a certain life in her countenance, which will in
vain employ both the painters and the poets to re-
present. The becoming negligence in her dress,
the severe sweetness of her looks, and a certain in-
Q 2
174 TATLER. NO 48.
nocent boldness in all her behaviour, are the effect
of the active recreations I am talking of.
But instead of such, or any other as innocent and
pleasing method of passing away their time with
alacrity, we have many in town who spend their
hours in an indolent state of body and mind, without
either recreations or reflections. I am apt to be-
lieve there are some parents imagine their daughters
will be accomplished enough, if nothing interrupts
their growth or their shape. According to this me-
thod of education, I could name you twenty families,
where all the girls hear of in this life is, that it is
time to rise and come to dinner, as if they were so
insignificant as to be wholly provided for when they
are fed and clothed.
It is with great indignation that I see such crowds
of the female world lost to human society, and con-
demned to a laziness which makes life pass away
with less relish than in the hardest labour. Pa-
lestris, in her drawing-room, is supported by spirits
to keep off the returns of spleen and melancholy, be-
fore she can get over half of the day, for want of
something to do, while the wench in the kitchen
sings and scowers from morning to night.
The next disagreeable thing to a lazy lady, is
a very busy one. A man of business in good com-
pany, who gives an account of his abilities and dis-
patches, is hardly more insupportable than her they
call a notable woman and a manager. Lady Good-
day, where I visited the other day, at a very polite
circle, entertained a great lady with a recipe for a
poultice, and gave us to understand, that she had
done extraordinary cures since she was last in town.
It seems a countryman had wounded himself with
his scythe as he was mowing ; and we were obliged
to hear of her charity, her medicine, and her hu-
NO 248. TATLER. 175
mility, in the harshest tone and coarsest language
imaginable.
What I would request in all this prattle is, that
our females would either let us have their persons,
or their minds, in such perfection as nature designed'
them.
The way to this is, that those who are in the
quality of gentlewomen, should propose to them-
selves some suitable method of passing away their
time. This would furnish them with reflections and
sentiments proper for the companions of reasonable
men, and prevent the unnatural marriages which
happen every day between the most accomplished
women and the veriest oafs, the worthiest men and
the most insignificant females. Were the general
turn of women's education of another kind than it
is at present, we should want one another for more
reasons than we do as the world now goes. The
common design of parents, is to get their girls off as
well as they can; and they make no conscience of
putting into our hands a bargain for our whole life,
which will make our hearts ache every day of it. I
shall, therefore, take this matter into serious consi-
deration, and will propose for the better improve-
ment of the fair sex, a " Female library." This
collection of books shall consist of such authors as
do not corrupt while they divert, but shall tend
more immediately to improve them as they are
women. They shall be such as shall not hurt a
feature by the austerity of their reflections, nor
cause one impertinent glance by the wantonness of
them. They shall all tend to advance the value of
their innocence as virgins, improve their under-
standing as wives, and regulate their tenderness as
parents. It has been very often said in these Lucu-
brations, " that the ideas which most frequently
pass through our imaginations, leave traces of them-
176 TATLBR. N 249.
selves in our countenances." There shall be a
strict regard had to this in my Female Library,
which shall be furnished with nothing that shall give
supplies to oetentation or impertinence : but the
whole shall be so digested for the use of my students,
that they shall not go out of character in their in-
quiries, but their knowledge appear only a culti-
vated innocence.
N'249. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1?10.
Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum,
Tendimus. VIRG. /En. i. 208.
Through various hazards and events we move.
DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, November 10.
I WAS last night visited by a friend of mine, who
has an inexhaustible fund of discourse, and never
fails to entertain his company with a variety of
thoughts and hints that are altogether new and un-
common. Whether it were in complaisance to my
way of living, or his real opinion, he advanced the
following paradox : that it required much greater
talents to fill up and become a retired life than a life
of business. Upon this occasion he rallied very
agreeably the busy men of the age, who only valued
themselves for being in motion and passing through
a series of trifling and insignificant actions. In the
heat of his discourse, seeing a piece of money lying
NO 849. TATLER, 177
on my table, " I defy," says he, " any of these
active persons to produce half the adventures that
this Twelvepenny-piece has been engaged in, were
it possible for him to give us an account, of his
life."
My friend's talk made so odd an impression upon
my mind, that soon after I was a-bed I fell insen-
sibly into an unaccountable reverie, that had neither
moral nor design in it, and cannot be so properly
called a dream as a delirium.
Methought the Shilling that lay upon the table
reared itself upon its edge, and, turning the face
towards me, opened its mouth, and in a soft silver
sound, gave me the following account of his life and
adventures :
" I was born," says he, " on the side of a moun-
tain, near a little village of Peru, and made a voy-
age to England in an ingot, under the convoy of
Sir Francis Drake. I was, soon after my arrival,
taken out of my Indian habit, refined, naturalized,
and put into the British mode, with the face of
Queen Elizabeth on one side, and the arms of the
country on the other. Being thus equipped, I
found in me a wonderful inclination to ramble, and
visit all the parts of the new world into which I was
brought. The people very much favoured my na-
tural disposition, and shifted me so fast from hand
to hand, that, before I was five years old, 1 had
travelled into almost every corner of the nation.
But in the beginning of my sixth year, to my un-
speakable grief, I fell into the hands of a miserable
old fellow, who clapped me into an iron chest,
where I found five hundred more of my own qua-
lity who lay under the same confinement. The only
relief we had, was to be taken out and counted
over in the fresh air every morning and evening.
After an imprisonment of several years, we heard
178 TATLER. NO 949.
somebody knocking at our chest, and breaking it
open with a hammer. This we found was the old
man's heir, who, as his father lay dying, was so
good as to come to our release. He separated us
that very day. What was the fate of my compa-
nions I know not : as for myself, I was sent to the
apothecary's shop for a pint of sack. The apothe-
cary gave me to an herb-woman, the herb-woman
to a butcher, the butcher to a brewer, and the
brewer to his wife, who made a present of me to a
non-conformist preacher. After this manner I made
my way merrily through the world : for, as I told
you before, we Shillings love nothing so much as
travelling. I sometimes fetched in a shoulder of
mutton, sometimes a play-book, and often had the
satisfaction to treat a templar at a twelvepenny or-
dinary, or carry him with three friends to Westmin-
ster-hall.
" In the midst of this pleasant progress which I
made from place to place, I was arrested by a su-
perstitious old woman, who shut me up in a greasy
purse, in pursuance of a foolish saying, ' that while
she kept a Queen Elizabeth's shilling about her, she
should never be without money.' I continued here
a close prisoner for many months, until at last I was
exchanged for eight-and-forty farthings.
" I thus rambled from pocket to pocket until the
beginning of the civil wars, when, to my shame be
it spoken, I was employed in raising soldiers against
the king : for, being of a very tempting breadth, a
Serjeant made use of me to inveigle country fellows,
and list them into the service of parliament.
" As soon as he had made one man sure, his way
was, to oblige him to take a shilling of a more
homely figure, and then practise the same trick
upon another. Thus I continued doing great mis-
chief to the crown, until m.y officer chancing one
NO 249. TATLER. 179
morning to walk abroad earlier than ordinary, sa-
crificed me to his pleasures, and rnsfie use of me to
seduce a milk-maid. This wench bent me, and
gave me to her sweetheart, applying more properly
than she intended the usual form of " to my love
and from my love." This ungenerous gallant mar-
rying her within a few days after, pawned me for a
dram of brandy ; and drinking me out next day, I
was beaten fiat with an hammer, and again set
a-running.
" After many adventures, which it would be te-
dious to relate, I was sent to a young spendthrift,
in company with the will of his deceased father.
The young fellow, who I found was very extrava-
gant, gave great demonstrations of joy at receiving
the will ; but opening it, he found himself disin-
herited, and cut off from the possession of a fair
estate by virtue of my being made a present to him.
This put him into such a passion, that, after having
taken me in his hand, and cursed me, he squirred
me away from him as far as he could fling me. ' I
chanced to light in an unfrequented place under a
dead wall, where I lay undiscovered and useless
during the usurpation of Oliver Cromwell.
" About a year after the king's return, a poor
cavalier, that was walking there about dinner-time,
fortunately cast his eye upon me, and, to the great
joy of us both, carried me to a cook's-shop, where
he dined upon me, and drank the king's health.
When I came again into the world, I found that I
had been happier in my retirement than I thought,
having probably by that means escaped wearing a
monstrous pair of breeches.
" Being now of great credit and antiquity, I
was rather looked upon as a medal than an ordinary
coin : for which reason a gamester laid hold of me,
and converted me to a counter, having got togethef
180 TATLER. NO 849.
some dozens of ; us for that use. We led a melan-
choly life in &is possession, being busy at those
hours wherein current coin is at rest, and partaking
the fate of our master; being in a few moments
valued at a crown, a pound, or a sixpence, accord-
ing to the situation in which the fortune of the cards
placed us. I had at length the good luck to see my
master break, by which means I was again sent
abroad, under my primitive denomination of a
Shilling.
" I shall pass over many other accidents of less
moment, and hasten to that fatal catastrophe when
I fell into the hands of an artist, who conveyed me
under ground, and, with an unmerciful pair of
sheers, cut oft' my titles, clipped my brims, re-
trenched my shape, rubbed me to my inmost ring ;
and, in short, so spoiled and pillaged me, that he
did not leave me worth a groat. You may think
what confusion I was in to see myself thus curtailed
and disfigured. I should have been ashamed to
have shewn my head, had not all my old acquaint-
ance been reduced to the same shameful figure,
excepting some few that were punched through the
belly. In the midst of this general calamity, when
every body thought our misfortune irretrievable,
and our case desperate, we were thrown into the fur-
nace together, and, as it often happens with cities
rising out of a fire, appeared with greater beauty
and lustre than we could ever boast of before.
What has happened to me since this change of sex
which you now see, I shall take some other oppor-
tunity to relate. In the mean time I shall only re-
peat two adventures, as being very extraordinary,
and neither of them having ever happened to me
above once in my life. The first was, my being in
a poet's pocket, who was so taken with the bright-
ness and novelty of my appearance, that it gave
NO 250. TATLER. 181
occasion to the finest burlesque poem in the British
language, entitled, from me, The Splendid Shilling.
The second adventure, which I must not omit,
happened to me in the year 1703, when I was given
away in charity to a blind man ; but indeed this
was by mistake, the person who gave me having
thrown me heedlessly into the hat among a penny-
worth of farthings.
N 250. TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1710.
Scis enimjustum gemina suspender e lance
Ancipitis libra ? PERS. Sat. iv. 10.
Knuw'st tbou with equal hand to hold the scale.
DRYDEN.
From my own Apartment, November 13.
I LAST winter erected a court of justice for the cor-
recting of several enormities in dress and behaviour,
which are not cognizable in any other courts of this
realm. The vintner's case, which I there tried, is
still fresh in every man's memory. That of the
petticoat gave also a general satisfaction: not to
mention the more important points of the cane and
perspective : in which, if I did not give judgments
and decrees, according to the strictest rules of
equity and justice, I can safely say, I acted accord-
ing to the best of my understanding. But as for the
proceedings of that court, I shall refer my reader to
VOL. v. R
181 TATLER. NO 250.
an account of them, written by my secretary ;
which is now in the press, and will shortly be pub-
lished under the stile of Lillie's " Reports*."
As I last year presided over a court of justice, it
is my intention this year to set myself at the head
of a court of honour. There is no court of this na-
ture any where at present, except in France ; where,
according to the best of my intelligence, it consists
of such only as are marshals of that kingdom. I am
likewise informed, that there is not one of that ho-
nourable board at present, who has not been driven
out of the field by the duke of Marlborough : but
whether this be only an accidental or a necessary
qualification, I must confess I am not able to de-
termine.
As for the court of honour of which I am here
speaking, I intend to set myself in it as president,
with several men of honour on my right-hand, and
women of virtue on my left, as my assistants. The
first place on the bench I have given to an old
Tangereen captain with a wooden leg. The second
is a gentleman of a long twisted periwig without a
curl in it, a muff with very little hair upon it, and a
thread-bare coat with new buttons ; being a person
of great worth, and second brother to a man of qua-
lity. The third is a gentleman usher, extremely
well read in romances, and grandson to one of the
greatest wits in Germany, who was some time
master of the ceremonies to the duke of Wolfem-
buttle.
As for those who sit further on my right hand,
as it is usual in public courts f, they are such as will
* Charles Lillie.
J- This alludes to the masters in chancery, who sit on th
bench with the lord chancellor, sole judge of the court.
NO 250; TATLER. 193
fill up the number of faces upon the bench, and
serve rather for ornament than use.
The chief upon my left-hand are,
An old maiden lady, that preserves some of the
best blood of England in her veins.
A Welsh woman of a little stature, but high
spirit.
An old prude, that has censured every marriage
for these thirty years, and is lately wedded to a
young rake.
Having thus furnished my bench, I shall esta-
blish correspondences with the horse-guards, and
the veterans of Chelsea-College ; the former to fur-
nish me with twelve men of honour as often as I
shall have occasion for a grand jury ; and the latter,
with as ' many good men and true, for a petty
jury.
As for the women of virtue, it will not be diffi-
cult for me to find them about midnight at crimp
and basset.
Having given this public notice of my court, I
must further add, that I intend to open it on this
day sevennight, being Monday the twentieth in-
stant ; and do hereby invite all such as have suffered
injuries and affronts, that are not to be redressed by
the common laws of this land, whether they be short
bows, cold salutations, supercilious looks, unre-
turned smiles, distant behaviour, or forced familia-
rity ; as also all such as have been aggrieved by any
ambiguous expression, accidental justle, or unkind
repartee ; likewise all such as have been defrauded
of their right to the wall, tricked out of the upper
end of the table, or have been suffered to place
themselves, in their own wrong, on the back-seat
of the coach. These, and all of these, I do, as I
above said, invite to bring in their several cases and
184 TATLBR. NO 250.
complaints, in which they shall be relieved with all
imaginable expedition.
I am very sensible, that the office I have now
taken upon me will engage me in the disquisition of
many weighty points, that daily perplex the youth
of the British nation ; and, therefore, I have al-
ready discussed several of them for my future use ;
as, " how far a man may brandish his cane in telling
a story, without insulting his hearer;" "what de-
gree of contradiction amounts to the lie ;" " how a
man shall resent another's staring and cocking a hat
in his face ;" " if asking pardon is an atonement for
treading upon one's toes;" " whether a man may
put up with a box on the ear received from a
stranger in the dark ;" or, " whether a man of ho-
nour may take a blow of his wife ;" with several
other subtilties of the like nature.
For my directions in the duties of my office, I
have furnished myself with a certain astrological
pair of scales, which I have contrived for this pur-
pose. In one of them I lay the injuries, in the
other the reparations. The first are represented by
little weights made of a metal resembling iron, and
the other of gold. These are not only lighter than
the weights made use of in avoirdupois, but also
such as are used in Troy-weight. The heaviest of
those that represent the injuries amount but to
a scruple ; and decrease by so many sub-divisions,
that there are several imperceptible weights which
cannot be seen without the help of a very fine mi-
croscope. I might acquaint my reader, that these
scales were made under the influence of the sun
when he was in Libra, and describe many signa-
tures on the weights both of injury and reparation :
but as this would look rather to proceed from an
ostentation of my own art, than any care for the
public, I shall pass it over in silence.
NO 251. TATLER. 185
N' 2 1 5. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1710.
Quisnam igitur liber ? Sapiens, sibi qui tmperiosus ;
Quern neque pauperies, neque mors, nee vincula terrent ;
Kesponsare cupidinibus, conlemnere honores
Fnrtia, et in seip$o totus i leres atque rotundus,
Externi ne quid valeat per lacve morari;
In quern manca ruit semper fortuna.
HOR. 2 Sat. vii. 83.
Who then is free? The wise, who well maintains
An empire o'er himself; who neither chains,
Nor want, nor death, with slavish fear inspire,
Who boldly answers to his'warm desire,
Who can ambition's vainest gifts despise,
Firm in himself who on himself relies,
Polisb'd and round who runs his proper course,
And breaks misfortune with superior force.
FRANCIS.
From my otpn Apartment, November 15.
IT is necessay to an easy and happy life, to possess
our minds in such a manner as to be always well sa-
tisfied with our own reflections. The way to this
state is to measure our actions by our own opinion,
and not by that of the rest of the world. The sense
of other men ought to prevail over us in things of
less consideration, but not in concerns where truth
and honour are engaged. When we look into the
bottom of things, what at first appears a paradox is
a plain truth ; and those professions, which, for
want of being duly weighed, seem to proceed from a
sort of romantic philosophy, and ignorance of the
world, after a little reflection, are so reasonable
186 TATLBR. NO 251.
that it is direct madness to walk by any other rules.
Thus to contradict our desires, and to conquer the
impulses of our ambition, if they do not fall in with
what we in our inward sentiments approve, is so
much our interest, and so absolutely necessary to
our real happiness, that to contemn all the wealth
and power in the world, where they stand in com-
petition with a man's honour, is rather good sense
than greatness of mind.
Did we consider that the mind of a man is the
man himself, we should think it the most unnatural
sort of self-murder to sacrifice the sentiment of the
soul to gratify the appetites of the body. Bless us!
is it possible, that when the necessities of life are
supplied, a man would flatter to be rich, or cir-
cumvent to be powerful! When we meet a poor
wretch, urged with hunger and cold, asking an
alms, we are apt to think this a state we could
rather starve than submit to: but yet how much
more despicable is his condition, who is above ne-
cessity, and yet shall resign his reason and his inte-
grity to purchase superfluities ! Both these are ab-
ject and common beggars ; but sure it is less despi-
cable to beg a supply to a man's hunger than his
vanity. But custom and general prepossessions have
so far prevailed over an unthinking world, that those
necessitous creatures, who cannot relish life with-
out applause, attendance, and equipage, are so far
from making a contemptible figure, that distressed
virtue is less esteemed than successful vice. But if
a man's appeal, in cases that regard his honour,
were made to hig own soul, there would be a basis,
and standing rule for our conduct, and we should
always endeavour rather to be, than appear ho-
nourable. Mr. Collier, in his " Essay on Forti-
tude," has treated this subject with great wit and
magnanimity. " What," says he, " can be more
TATLER. 187
honourable than to have courage enough to execute
the commands of reason and conscience ; to main-
tain the dignity of our nature, and the station as-
signed us ? to be proof against poverty, pain, and
death itself; I mean so far as not to do any thing
that is scandalous or sinful to avoid them : to stand
adversity under all shapes with decency and reso-
lution ! To do this, is to be great above title and
fortune. This argues the soul of an heavenly ex-
traction, and is worthy the offspring of the Deity."
What a generous ambition has this man pointed
to us ! When men have settled in themselves a con-
viction, by such noble precepts, that there is no-
thing honourable which is not accompanied with in-
nocence ; nothing mean but what has guilt in it : I
say, when they have attained thus much, though
poverty, pain, and death, may still retain their
terrors; yet riches, pleasures, and honours, will
easily lose their charms, if they stand between us
and our integrity.
What is here said with allusion to fortune and
fame, may as justly be applied to wit and beauty ;
for these latter are as adventitious as the other, and
as little concern the essence of the soul. They are
all laudable in the man who possesses them, only
for the just application of them. A bright imagi-
nation, while it is subservient to an honest and
noble soul, is a faculty which makes a man justly
admired by mankind, and furnishes him with re-
flections upon his own actions, which add delicates
to the feast of a good conscience ; but when wit
descends to wait upon sensual pleasures, or promote
the base purposes of ambition, it is then to be con-
temned in proportion to its excellence. If a man
will not resolve to place the foundation of his hap-
piness in his own mind, life is a bewildered and
188 TATLER. NO 251.
unhappy state, incapable of rest or tranquillity. For
to such a one, the general applause of valour, wit,
nay of honesty itself, can give him but a very fee-
ble comfort ; since it is capable of being interrupted
by any one who wants either understanding or good-
nature to see or acknowledge such excellencies.
This rule is so necessary, that one may very safely
say, it is impossible to know any true relish of our
being without it. Look about you in common life
among the ordinary race of mankind, and you will
find merit in every kind is allowed only to those who
are in particular districts or sets of company : but,
since men can have little pleasure in these faculties
which denominate them persons of distinction, let
them give up such an empty pursuit, and think no-
thing essential to happiness but what is in their own
power ; the capacity of reflecting with pleasure oft
their own actions, however they are interpreted.
It is so evident a truth, that it is only in our own
bosoms we are to search for any thing to make us
happy, that it is, methinks, a disgrace to our na-
ture to talk of taking our measures from thence
only, as a matter of fortitude. When all is well
there, the vicissitudes and distinctions of life are the
mere scenes of a drama ; and he will never act his
part well, who has his thoughts more fixed upon
the applause of the audience than the design of his
part.
The life of a man who acts with a steady inte-
grity, without valuing the interpretation of his
actions, has but one uniform regular path to move
in, where he cannot meet opposition, or fear am-
buscade. On the other side, the least deviation
from the rules of honour introduces a train of num-
berless evils, and involves him in inexplicable mazes.
He that has entered into guilt has bid adieu to rest ;
Jjo 252. TATLER. 189
and every criminal has his share of the misery ex-
pressed so emphatically in the tragedian,
Macbeth shall sleep no more !
It was with detestation of any other grandeur but
the calm command of his own passions, that the
excellent Mr. Cowley cries out with so much
justice,
If e'er Ambition did my fancy cheat
With any thought so mean as to lie great,
Continue, Heaven, still from me to remove
The humble blessings of that life I love!
N 252. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 18, IflO.
Narratur et prisci Catonis
Sape mero caluisse virtia. HOR. 3 Od. xxi. 11.
Of old
Cato's virtue, we are told,
Often with a bumper glow'd,
And with social raptures flow'd. FRANCIS.
From my own Apartment, November 17-
THE following letter, and several others to the same
purpose, accuse me of a rigour of which I am far
from being guilty, to wit, the disallowing the cheer-
ful use of wine.
" From my Country House, October 25.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" Your discourse against drinking, in Tuesday's
Taller, I like well enough in the main ; but, in my
190 TATLER. NO 252.
humble opinion, you are become too rigid, where
you say to this effect: Were there only this single
consideration, that we are the less masters of our-
selves if we drink the least proportion beyond the
exigence of thirst. I hope no one drinks wine to
allay this appetite. This seems to be designed for a
loftier indulgence of nature ; for it were hard to
suppose that the Author of Nature, who imposed
upon her her necessities and pains, does not allow
her her proper pleasures ; and we may reckon
among the latter the moderate use of the grape.
Though I am as much against excess, or whatever
approaches it, as yourself; yet I conceive one may
safely go farther than the bounds you there prescribe,
not only without forfeiting the title of being one's
own master, but also to possess it in a much greater
degree. If a man's expressing himself upon
any subject with more life and vivacity, more va-
riety of ideas, more copiously, more fluently, and
more to the purpose, argues it ; he thinks clearer,
speaks more ready, and with greater choice of com-
prehensive and significant terms. I have the good
fortune now to be intimate with a gentleman * re-
markable for this temper, who has an inexhausti-
ble source of wit to entertain the curious, the grave,
the humorous, and the frolic. He can transform
himself into different shapes, and adapt himself to
every company; yet in a coffee-house, or in the
ordinary course of affairs, he appears rather dull
than sprightly. You can seldom get him to the ta-
vern ; but when he is once arrived to his pint, and
begins to look about and like his company, you ad-
mire a thousand things in him, which before lay
buried. Then you discover the brightness of his
mind, and the strength of his judgment, accompa-
* Mr. Addison.
NO 252. TATLER. 191
nied with the most graceful mirth. In a word, by
this enlivening aid, he is whatever is polite, in-
structive, and diverting. What makes him still
more agreeable is, that he tells us a story, serious or
comical, with as much delicacy of humour as Cer-
vantes himself. And for all this, at other times,
even after a long knowledge of him, you shall
scarce discern in this incomparable person a whit
more than what might be expected from one of a
common capacity. Doubtless, there are men of
great parts that are guilty of downright bashfulness,
that, by a strange hesitation and reluctance to speak,
murder the finest and most elegant thoughts, and
render the most lively conceptions flat and heavy.
" In this case, a certain quantity of my white or
red cordial, which you will, is an easy, but an in-
fallible remedy. It awakens the judgment, quick-
ens the memory, ripens the understanding, dis-
perses melancholy, cheers the heart ; in a word,
restores the whole man to himself and his friends,
without the least pain or indisposition to the patient.
To be taken only in the evening, in a reasonable
quantity, before going to-bed. Note ; My bottles
are sealed with three flower-de-luces and a bunch
of grapes. Beware of counterfeits. I am your most
humble servant, &c."
Whatever has been said against the use of wine,
upon the supposition that it enfeebles the mind, and
renders it unfit for the duties of life, bears forcibly
to the advantages of that delicious juice in cases where
it only heightens conversation, and brings to light
agreeable talents, which otherwise would have lain
concealed under the oppression of an unjust modesty.
I must acknowledge I have seen many of the temper
mentioned by this correspondent, and own wine
192 TATLER. NO 252 .
may very allowably be used, in a degree above the
supply of mere necessity, by such as labour under
melancholy, or are tongue-tied by modesty. It is
certainly a very agreeable change, when we see a
glass raise a lifeless conversation into all the plea-
sures of wit and good-humour. But when Caska
adds to his natural impudence the fluster of a
bottle, that which fools called fire when he was
sober, all men abhor as outrage when he is drunk.
Thus he, that in the morning was only saucy, is in
the evening tumultuous. It makes one sick to hear
one of these fellows say, " they love a friend and a
bottle." Noisy mirth has something too rustic in it
to be considered without terror by men of polite-
ness : but while the discourse improves in a well-
chosen company, from the addition of spirits which
flow from moderate cups, it must be acknowledged,
that leisure-time cannot be more agreeably, or per-
haps more usefully employed, than at such meet-
ings. There is a certain prudence in this, and all
other circumstances which makes right or wrong
in the conduct of ordinary life. Sir Jeoffrey Wild-
acre has nothing so much at heart, as that his son
should know the world betimes. For this end he
introduces him among the sots of his own age,
where the boy learns to laugh at his father from the
familiarity with which he sees him treated by his
equals. This the old fellow calls " living well with
his heir, and teaching him to be too much his friend
to be impatient for his estate." But, for the more
exact regulation of society in this and other matters,
I shall publish tables of the characters and relations
among men, and by them instruct the town in
making sets and companies for a bottle. This hu-
mour of Sir Jeoifrey shall be taken notice of in the
first place ; for there is, methinks, a sort of incest
NO 252. TATLEll. 195
in drunkenness, and sons are not to behold fathers
stripped of all reverence.
It is shocking in nature for the young to see
those, whom they should have an awe for, in cir-
cumstances of contempt. I shall therefore utterly
forbid, that those whom nature should admonish to
avoid too gross familiarities, shall be received into
parties of pleasure where there is the least danger of
excess. I should run through the whole doctrine of
drinking, but that my thoughts are at present too
much employed in the modelling my " Court of
Honour," and altering the seats, benches, bar, and
canopy, from that of the court wherein I, last win-
ter, sat upon causes of less moment. By the way,
I shall take an opportunity to examine, what me-
thod is to be taken to make joiners and other arti-
ficers get out of a house they have once entered ;
not forgetting to tie them under proper regulations.
It is for want of such rules that I have, a day or
two longer than I expected, been tormented and
deafened with hammers ; insomuch, that I neither
can pursue this discourse, nor answer the following
and many other letters of the highest importance.
" MR. BICKERSTAFF,
" We are man and wife, and have a boy and a
girl ; the lad seventeen, the maiden sixteen. We
are quarrelling about some parts of their education.
I Ralph cannot bear that I must pay for the girl's
learning on the spinnet, when I know she has no
ear. I Bridget have not patience to have my son
whipped because he cannot make verses, when I
know he is a blockhead. Pray, Sir, inform us, is
it absolutely necessary that all who wear breeches
must be taught to rhyme ; all in petticoats to touch
an instrument ? Please to interpose in this and the
VOL. v. s
194 TATLER. N 253.
like cases, to end much solid distress which arises
from trifling causes, as it is common in wedlock,
and you will very much oblige us and ours,
N253. TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1?10.
Pietale gravem ac meritis si forte virum quern
Conspexere, silent, arrectl