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SIR ROGER DE COVERLET 
 
 ESSAYS 
 FROM THE SPECTATOR 
 
llHacmillan'0 pocket lEnglisf) Classfce;, 
 
 A Series of English Texts, edited for use in 
 
 Secondary Schools, with Cntical 
 
 Introductions, Notes, etc. 
 
 l6mo. Levanteen. 25c. each. 
 
 Macaulay's Essay on Addison. 
 Macaulay's Essay on Milton. 
 Tennyson's The Princess. 
 Eliot's Silas Marner. 
 Coleridge's The Ancient Mariner. 
 Cooper's The Last of the Mohicans. 
 Burke's Speech on Conciliation 
 Pope's Homer's Iliad. 
 Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Shakespeare's Macbeth. 
 Addison's Sir Roger de Coverley. 
 Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice. 
 Dryden's Palamon and Arcite. 
 Byron's Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. 
 
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Digitized by tine Internet Arcinive 
 
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JOSEPH ADDISON 
 
SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY 
 
 ESSAYS FROM THE SPECTATOR 
 
 BY 
 
 ADDISON^ AND STEELE 
 
 EDITED 
 
 WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY 
 
 ZELMA GRAY 
 
 INSTRUCTOR OF ENGLISH IN THE EAST SIDE HIGH SCHOOL 
 SAGINAW, MICHIGAN 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
 
 1899 
 
 ^ All rights reserved 
 
QUh-A. "C JUm 
 
 Copyright, 1899 
 By the MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 
 i. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 
 
<^^ocL 
 
 Af 
 
 1^99 
 
 Jlr 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction 
 
 I. The Spectator's Account of himself 
 
 Spectator No. 1. AMison. 
 
 II. Description of Club Members . 
 
 Spectator No. 2. Steele, 
 
 III. Sir Roger's Opinion of True Wisdom 
 
 Spectator No. 6. Steele. 
 
 IV. Sir Roger at the Club . . . . 
 
 Spectator No. 34. Addison. 
 
 V. Sir Roger at his Country House . 
 
 Spectator No. 106. Addison. 
 
 YI. The Coverlet Household . . . . 
 Spectator No. 107. Steele. 
 
 VII. Sir Roger and Will Wimble . 
 
 Spectator No. 108. Addison. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ix 
 
 16 
 
 21 
 
 27 
 
 33 
 
 38 
 
 M633317 
 
VI CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 VIII. A Sunday at Sir Koger's .... 43 
 Spectator No. 112. Addison, 
 
 IX. Sir Roger and the Widow . . . .48 
 Spectator No. 113. Steele, 
 
 X. Bodily Exercise .... o . 56 
 Spectator No. 115. Addison. 
 
 XI. The Coverley Hunt 61 
 
 Spectator No. 116. Budgell. 
 
 XII. The Coverley Witch 69 
 
 Spectator No. 117. Addison, 
 
 XIII. Sir Roger's Discourse on Love ... 74 
 
 Spectator No. 118. Steele. 
 
 XIV. Town and Country Manners .... 81 
 
 Spectator No. 119. Addison, 
 
 XV. Sir Roger at the Assizes .... 85 
 Spectator No. 122. Addison. 
 
 XVI. Sir Roger and Party Spirit .... 91 
 Spectator No. 125. Addison. 
 
 XVII. Sir Roger and the Gypsies .... 97 
 Spectator No. 130. Addison, 
 
CONTENTS Vii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XVIII. Why the Spectator leaves Coverlet Hall 102 
 Spectator No. 131. Addison. 
 
 XIX. The Spectator's Experience in a Stage- 
 coach 107 
 
 Spectator No. 132. Steele. 
 
 XX. Street Cries of London 113 
 
 Spectator No. 251. Addison. 
 
 XXL Sir Roger in Town . . . . . .119 
 
 Spectator No. 269. Addison. 
 
 XXII. Sir Eoger in Westminster Abbey . . 125 
 
 Spectator No. 329. Addison. 
 
 XXIII. Sir Roger at the Theatre .... 131 
 
 Spectator No. 335. Addison, 
 
 XXIV. Will Honeycomb's Love-making . . . 137 
 
 Spectator No. 359. Budgell. 
 
 XXV. Sir Roger at Vauxhall Gardens . . . 141 
 Spectator No. 383. Addison. 
 
 XXVI. Death of Sir Roger de Coverley . . 146 
 Spectator No. 517. Addison. 
 
 Notes • 155 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 In order to appreciate fully the merits of an author, 
 it is necessary to throw a search-light upon the period 
 in which he wrote. His writings should not be studied 
 alone, isolated from their companions, but should be 
 viewed in relation to their social, political, and his- 
 torical conditions. This is particularly advisable in 
 criticising the literature of a previous century whose 
 customs, manners, tastes, and opinions differ so widely 
 from those of our own. We must obliterate our preju- 
 dices and fixed ideas ; must shut our eyes to the 
 present, and transporting ourselves to the past, live in 
 spirit with the people of that time, be participants 
 in their work, their recreations, their joys, and their 
 sorrows; must eat at their tables and take part in 
 their conversations ; must wear the clothes they wore, 
 travel the roads they travelled, read the books they 
 read, visit the people whom they visited, appreciate 
 their hindrances and limitations, and survey the whole 
 field, not with a satirical, fault-finding spirit, but with 
 clear vision and sympathetic comradeship. 
 
X INTRODUCTION 
 
 With this purpose in mind, let us, like Gulliver at 
 Lilliput, open our eyes on the new scene — the Eng- 
 land of the Queen Anne period, from the latter part 
 of the seventeenth century to the early middle of the 
 eighteenth. The scene naturally divides itself into 
 London, and that which is not London ; and the latter, 
 though so much greater in magnitude, may be quickly 
 seen, as there was much sameness throughout in cus- 
 toms and mode of living. In the country, roads were 
 poor and neglected, and the country people travelled 
 but little — mainly on horseback. When it was neces- 
 sary for a man to go to London, — and he who had 
 been to London " had seen the world," and was looked 
 upon with a degree of awe and respect by his simple 
 countrymen, — he could walk to the nearest main road, 
 and at a given time, take the stage-coach which passed 
 once a week on its way to the great metropolis. Pub- 
 lic schools were being instituted, but they were few, 
 and most people were uneducated — could neither read 
 nor write. Society, in its accepted term, was confined 
 to the comparatively few wealthy landowners who 
 kept large numbers of horses and hounds, and when 
 at home filled their mansions with guests who de- 
 lighted in hunting, the chase, and the other amuse- 
 ments which the free-hearted host could originate. 
 On portions of the estates were grouped the little 
 homes of the tenants ; and these, with an occasional 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 small village where the farmers gathered and dis- 
 cussed the price of crops, or told to open-mouthed, 
 eager listeners the latest scandal or gossip retailed by 
 the servants of the gentry, gave life to the slow-going 
 and lonely country. 
 
 But the well-to-do people were spending less and 
 less time in their country seats, and more and more 
 in the growing towns, where congregated learning, 
 business, wealth, and society. Many cities were grow- 
 ing ; but the most prominent one was London, which 
 was, and is, to England, what Paris is to Prance, or 
 Athens was to Greece — the centre of all progress and 
 culture. Almost any theologian of note in England 
 was to be found " either in the episcopate or at the 
 head of a London parish ; '^ here came all authors and 
 would-be authors; here was the active and turbid 
 stream of manufacturing and commercial life; here 
 was the court with its attendant vices and virtues, 
 and Parliament with its frequent assemblings; and 
 here was the gayest and most frivolous society of all 
 England, with its vulgarity, licentiousness, and law- 
 lessness. 
 
 The question which is perplexing the anxious, over- 
 burdened man of the nineteenth century, " Is life worth 
 living ? " might, with some propriety, have been asked 
 in the eighteenth of the social dawdler whose days 
 were rounds of sensual pleasures. Thackeray says, 
 
XU INTRODUCTION 
 
 "I have calculated the manner in which statesmen 
 and persons of condition passed their time — and what 
 with drinking and dining, and supping and cards, 
 wonder how they got through with their business at 
 all/' The fine gentleman rose late, and sauntered in 
 the Mall — the fashionable promenade which we are 
 told was always full of idlers, but especially so morn- 
 ing and evening when their Majesties often walked 
 with the royal family. After his walk the society 
 man, dressed elaborately and in his periwig, cocked 
 hat, skirt-coat wired to make it stick out, ruffled 
 linen, black silk hose, square-toed shoes, and buckles, 
 gaily betook himself to the coffee-house or chocolate- 
 house. Here he lounged, and over the steaming cup 
 discussed the latest news from abroad, from Parlia- 
 ment, from society. As there were few conveniences 
 in the homes for entertaining, it was the custom to 
 dine with a friend or two at the tavern, where hilarity 
 prevailed, and drunkenness was a trifling incident, 
 attaching no shame or disgrace to the offender. Din- 
 ner over, the coffee-house again, or possibly the club, 
 occupied the attention, and the theatre or gaming- 
 table finished the day for this man of quality who 
 ■perhaps had no uneasy consciousness of time wasted. 
 
 And the life of the fine lady was equally purpose- 
 less. The social pulse may always be determined by 
 the position of woman; and woman in this period 
 
INTHODUCTION xiii 
 
 neither commanded nor received respect. In the mid- 
 dle classes might be found many a practical mother 
 who enjoyed her household duties, and was content 
 in the four walls of her home. But throughout the 
 higher classes the fine lady was not supposed to be a 
 homekeeper; she was not supposed to be educated; 
 she was not required to be more refined than was con- 
 sistent with present pleasure. Nothing was done, 
 and nothing was expected to be done, to bring ilito 
 action those nobler qualities which we now recognize 
 as essential to womanhood. Society existed for men ; 
 and woman was admitted, not because of her inherent 
 right to be there to purify, to uplift, to inspire, but 
 because she could amuse and charm away a weary 
 hour while she idly flirted her fan, and gave inane 
 responses to the insipid compliments of the vain, con- 
 ceited beaux. 
 
 One of these social ornaments tells us how she spent 
 her time. She says, '^ I lie in bed till noon, dress all 
 the afternoon, drive in the evening, and play at cards 
 till midnight ; '' and adds that she goes to church twice 
 a year or oftener, according as her husband gives her 
 new clothes, and spends the remainder of Sabbath in 
 gossiping of " new fashions and new plays." A lady's 
 diary in Spectator reads : ^' Shifted a patch for half an 
 hour before I could determine it. Fixed it above my 
 left eyebrow J '' and again, "Called for my flowered 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION 
 
 handkerchief. Worked half a leaf on it. Eyes 
 ached and head out of order. Threw by my work, and 
 read over the remaining part of Aurengzebe.^' When 
 driven by ennui to books, she chose — if choice it 
 could be called when there were so few other books 
 available — " lewd plays and winning romances/' thus 
 serving to heighten the superficial atmosphere in 
 which she lived. 
 
 But prominent in society was the young beau — of 
 whom our dude of the nineteenth century is a feeble 
 copy — who imitated the fine gentlemen in all their 
 weaknesses and sins, intensifying them in his *^ airy 
 conceit " and lofty flippancy. He, too, frequented the 
 Mall, coffee-house, and theatre, hobnobbing with other 
 beaux as aimless and brainless as himself, boasting 
 the charms of his many friends, and his latest con- 
 quest. His dress, which was usually of bright colors, 
 occupied much of his attention, and his cane and 
 ever-present snuff-box much more. "He scorns to 
 condescend so low as to speak of any person beneath 
 the dignity of a nobleman ; the Duke of such a place, 
 and my Lord such a one, are his common cronies, 
 from whom he knows all the secrets of the court, but 
 does not impart 'em to his best friend because the 
 Duke enjoined him to secrecy." He was so happily 
 unconscious of his own vacuity that he paraded his 
 weakness, thinking it wisdom. Yet, insufferable as 
 
IN TROD UCTION XV 
 
 he seems to us, " lie was an institution of the times/' 
 and was petted and adored by the ladies. 
 
 Society was permeated with corrupt ideas and 
 morals, and the strange fact is that these were openly 
 accepted and approved. No man had confidence in his 
 neighbor because he knew of his own unworthiness, 
 and could conceive of no reason why his companion 
 should care to be better than he was himself. Eobert 
 Walpole's declaration, that every man has his price, 
 was then painfully true, and nobody denied it or seemed 
 ashamed of the fact. The unusual was not that men 
 should be bad, but that they should be good. Men 
 priding themselves on their honor, and engaging in a 
 duel to prove this so-called honor as readily as they 
 ordered their horses for hunting, yet slandered the 
 ladies, flirted outrageously with other men's wives, 
 cheated at cards, and contracted debts they knew they 
 were unable to pay. Women pretending to be friends, 
 lost no opportunity of back-biting and defaming one 
 another. Social gatherings were based, not on merit 
 of individuals, nor congeniality of taste, but on a 
 feverish craving for excitement and admiration, or the 
 laudable desire to kill time. 
 
 Men might talk rationally and sensibly when with 
 one another, but in the presence of women they uttered 
 the most shallow commonplaces and vapid compli- 
 ments, and were applauded as witty. Through all 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 conversation there was an undercurrent of insincerity 
 and sham deference. Addison notes this and makes 
 his protest. " The world is grown so full of dissimu- 
 lation and compliment that men's words are hardly 
 any significance of their thoughts." Accompanying 
 this most extravagant flattery — often to mere stran- 
 gers — was the greatest freedom in personal relations, 
 and all reserve was classed as prudish and affected. 
 
 Both men and women gambled openly and exces- 
 sively, staking even their clothes when purses were 
 empty. Ward, speaking of a group of this class, said : 
 " They are gamesters waiting to pick up some young 
 bubble or other as he comes from his chamber; they 
 are men whose conditions are subject to more revolu- 
 tions than a weathercock, or the uncertain mind of a 
 fantastical woman. They are seldom two days in one 
 and the same stations ; they are one day very richly 
 dressed, and perhaps out at elbows the next ; " and of 
 woman that " were she at church in the height of her 
 devotions, should anybody but stand at the church 
 door and hold up the knave of clubs, she would take 
 it to be a challenge, and starting from her prayers, 
 would follow as a deluded traveller his ignis fatuusy 
 Furious as they all were when they lost, and prone to 
 laxity in money matters, they yet looked upon a gam- 
 bling debt as one necessary to be paid. " Why, sir, 
 among gentlemen, that debt is looked upon the most 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 just of any ; you may cheat widows, orphans, trades- 
 men, without a blush j but a debt of honor, sir, must 
 be paid. I could name you some noblemen that pay 
 nobody — yet a debt of honor, sir, is as sure as their 
 ready money." 
 
 But there were many diversions besides those that 
 have been mentioned. These vivacious, restless, super- 
 ficial triflers must have variety, and have it they did. 
 Periodical suburban fairs were held — somewhat simi- 
 lar to our modern circus — where at different booths 
 one might enjoy seeing sword dancing, dancing on the 
 rope, acrobatic agility, puppet shows, monstrosities 
 from all parts of the world, and various exhibitions 
 more or less refined. In process of time the fairs be- 
 came so debasing in their influence that Her Majesty 
 ordered them closed. Cock-fighting and bull-baiting 
 — the latter being a fight between a dog and a bull 
 tied at the horns with a rope several yards long — 
 were also greatly enjoyed. 
 
 Next to the club and gaming table, the theatre was 
 probably the most attractive place to while away time. 
 The English drama which during the reign of Eliza- 
 beth reached the greatest height, and began to descend, 
 had been denounced and suppressed by the Puritans. 
 When it was revived under the dissolute court of 
 Charles II, the new kind of drama was like the people, 
 " light, witty, and immoral." The theatre was a gath- 
 
XVlll INTRODUCTION 
 
 ering place for all classes, high and low, rich and 
 poor, refined and coarse, pure and impure, and the 
 greatest levity and license prevailed. Misson says 
 that during the performance the audience "chatter, 
 toy, play, hear and not hear." This state of things 
 continued during Anne's reign. The object was not to 
 interpret life or teach right living. As Steele asserts : 
 " The understanding is dismissed from our entertain- 
 ments. Our mirth is the laughter of fools, and our 
 admiration is the wonder of idiots." Plays were written 
 by men, for men, and were usually acted by men — 
 no woman having appeared on the stage till 1660. 
 Even in Queen Anne's reign, so few actresses were 
 known that when a play " acted by all women " was 
 advertised, it greatly attracted by its novelty, the 
 pleasure-seeking crowd. That a woman might be 
 pure and womanly, and still appear on the stage, was 
 beyond the knowledge or comprehension of society. 
 It has remained for the nineteenth century to make 
 it possible. Queen Anne did not attend the theatre, 
 and she strove to abolish its evils, but was far from 
 successful. 
 
 /^"In observing the influences which were slowly bring- 
 ing about a change in London society, too much impor- 
 tance cannot be placed upon the coffee-house, "the 
 centre of news, the lounge of the idler, the rendezvous 
 for appointments, the mart for business men." We 
 
INTRODUCTION xix 
 
 have nothing corresponding to it in these days, because 
 our newspapers, our telephones, our electric convey- 
 ances, place all items of interest before the city at 
 once, and such resorts are unnecessary. But in those 
 times the coffee-house was the magnetic needle and 
 drew all London by its powers. Clergymen, highway- 
 men, noblemen, beggars, authors, beaux, courtiers, 
 business men, collected here where coffee was good 
 and cheap, service prompt and willing, conversation 
 interesting and witty, and where a free and easy at- 
 mosphere made all. feel at home. Here men with 
 opinions found eager listeners before whom they might 
 pose as oracles. Here un-ideaed men came to gain 
 opinions which they might carry away and impart to 
 their admirers as original. And here came men of 
 intellect to enjoy the conversation of their equals, and 
 sharpen their own wits in the contact. The influence 
 of the coffee-house radiated to all parts of the city, and 
 touched business, society, church, literature. 
 
 While the coffee-houses were democratic, — "a neutral 
 meeting ground for all men," — the numerous clubs 
 were naturally more exclusive. New ones w^ere con- 
 tinually being formed by a knot of men having the same 
 intellectual tastes, common business pursuits, oneness 
 in epicurean appetites, or even similar endowments in 
 pounds of flesh. From the Fat Men's Club, which 
 excluded all who could get through an ordinary door, 
 
XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 to the October Club, where ^^ Tory squires, Parlia- 
 ment men, nourished patriotism with October ale/' 
 and the Kit-Cat Club, frequented by the great writers 
 of the day — Addison, Congreve, Arbuthnot — as well 
 as by the great Whig partisans, — from the lowest to 
 the highest, — there was usually some club at which 
 '' the learned and the illiterate, the dull and the airy, 
 the philosopher and the buffoon,'' might find their 
 counterparts and congenial spirits. Many men of the 
 eighteenth century received their greatest intellectual 
 impulse in these clubs and coffee-houses, and were as 
 dependent upon them for their happiness as those of 
 the nineteenth are upon their newspapers. 
 
 In this social world of London, but scarcely a part 
 of it, were many authors, though they had not yet 
 secured a foothold which enabled them to live merely 
 by the pen. The garrets in Grub Street were full 
 of these toilers who earned their scanty bread and 
 butter by taking any work which promised support, 
 often "grinding out ideas on subjects dictated by a 
 taskmaster and foreign to their taste." There was 
 no hope of emerging from their obscurity unless some 
 happy accident secured the notice of the government 
 and resulted in a pension ; or some flattering article 
 from their pen induced a nobleman to reach out a 
 helping hand and condescend to be a patron in return 
 for the writer's influence in political affairs. Collier 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 says, " It was Addison and Steele, Pope and Swift, 
 and a few others who got all the fame and the 
 guineas, who drank their wine, and spent their after- 
 noons in the saloons of the great, while the great 
 majority of authors starved and shivered in garrets, 
 or pawned their clothes for the food their pens could 
 not win." 
 
 But it is not alone the number of noted authors nor 
 the thought they contributed to the world that makes 
 the age an important one from a literary point of 
 view. They showed to the world, what it had never 
 known before, the great value of literary form. The 
 greatest period of literary activity previous to this 
 — that of Elizabeth — was far superior in creative 
 power; and as "there were giants in those days," 
 their genius made writing natural and easy as well 
 as brilliant. But English authors had never con- 
 sciously added carefulness in diction, in sentence struc- 
 ture, in rhythm, to their power of expression, until 
 their eyes were opened after the return of Charles II 
 from France. From that time the "French taste for 
 finish, elegance, and correctness" had pervaded the 
 literature of England, and now reached the height of 
 perfection in Pope. All literature since owes a debt 
 of gratitude to these painstaking strugglers. They 
 stopped short of the beauty which broadens, the love 
 of nature which inspires ; but by their sharp criticisms, 
 
XXli INTRODUCTION 
 
 and the practice of their own theories, they made it 
 impossible for future authors to write in a careless, 
 slipshod manner. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fact that numerous writers 
 existed, and that the public was beginning to appre- 
 ciate their worth, it was not a reading age. And it 
 was quite improbable that it should be so, as the 
 people were a sensual people, and the writings were 
 precise, intellectual, and did not appeal to the great 
 mass of ought-to-be-readers. Even if books had been 
 more to their liking, there were still grave hindrances. 
 Many could not read intelligently, books were expen- 
 sive and owned by the few, and there was lacking a 
 literary taste, which should make any reading desira- 
 ble or necessary to their happiness. Talking was 
 much easier, and satisfied them completely ; so con- 
 versation, fostered by club and coffee-house, became 
 naturally the medium of communication and informa- 
 tion. What this conversation degenerated into with- 
 out the feeding power of books has been already 
 shown ; and it may easily be seen that this great need 
 of mental stimulus was second only to the crying want 
 of purer morals. 
 
 ^ ^And still there was a restless, though perhaps an un- 
 conscious, craving for nobler living, higher perceptions. 
 The Puritan period, with all its distasteful severities 
 and rigorous demands, revealed a nobility of purpose 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiii 
 
 and a grandeur of character whose influence could 
 not be eradicated. Its growth was checked in the 
 reactionary, lawless rule of Charles, yet the root was 
 not dead, and was slowly but surely pushing its fibres 
 more and more into responsive ground. Where the 
 age of Charles was aggressive, Anne's was passive; 
 where the former gave unbridled license in defiance 
 of previous restraint, the latter was immoral because 
 living on a low plane had become habitual, and there 
 was little opposition. And this in itself makes vice 
 lifeless because there is no wind to fan the flame. 
 People were becoming discontented with a surfeit of 
 immorality, and only waited for a Moses to lead them 
 out of their slavery. 
 
 And he came in the person of Addison, who with his 
 shrewd, penetrating common sense discerned just what 
 was needed to give an uplift to the eighteenth century. 
 Swift had shown his disapproval, but his bitter sar- 
 casms stung and did not effect a cure. Defoe also 
 had made an effort to reform society, but he lacked 
 the personality necessary to touch the heart. But no 
 man ever saw more clearly, aimed more wisely, or hit 
 the mark more surely than did Addison in the pages 
 of the Spectator, What Ben Jon son tried in the 
 Elizabethan age, Addison accomplished in Anne's. 
 Both felt painfully the corruption of their times, and 
 both strove to better society. Both knew society thor- 
 
XXIV INTRODUCTION 
 
 oughly and pictured accurately the men and women 
 around them, their looks, their actions, their conver- 
 sations. Both did this in an attractive, satirical 
 manner; but Jonson was not in sympathy with his 
 creations nor does he inspire us with this feeling. 
 His characters are compounds of vices and weak- 
 nesses with little heart, and we have a good-natured 
 contempt for them; Addison shows vices and weak- 
 nesses, but pictures the latter in so kindly a manner 
 that we condemn tenderly as we take the delinquent 
 by the hand, and are perhaps inclined to ask ourselves 
 if we do not possess the same frailties. Is it strange 
 then that Addison, having this underlying sympathy 
 which attracts and corrects, should give a far more 
 helpful impulse to society than Jonson, who, though 
 seeing just as truly, and exposing as faithfully, yet 
 repelled by his aloofness ? 
 
 Addison did not write for the heart, though we have 
 a very warm feeling for the kindly old Eoger, and the 
 simple Will Honeycomb ; he did not write for the 
 head, to inform or invigorate the reasoning powers; 
 his purpose was to quicken moral life; to make men 
 and women less idle, less vain, less frivolous ; to give 
 loftier aims, to make more helpful, more pure. The 
 essays were not aimed at the world in general, a 
 possible or imaginary society; they were written ex- 
 pressly for the people whom he saw daily around him, 
 
INTRODUCTION XXV 
 
 to meet the actual need of the men and women of that 
 age living such thoughtless, butterfly lives. He as- 
 sumes that they were not consciously frittering away 
 their energies; but "weak in their high emotions," 
 like the rudderless boat on the wave, containing no 
 power in itself to resist the forces which impel it now 
 forward, now backward, perhaps dashing it against 
 the rock, and perhaps carrying it out to sea. And his 
 own individuality enables him to comprehend the 
 surest method of appealing to them successfully. He 
 comes to them simply, kindly, humorously, with an 
 air of contempt for the fault, but no ill will to the 
 criminal. 
 
 At the present time he does not touch us deeply, be- 
 cause we have attained, somewhat, to a higher plane 
 of morality, and do not need the suggestions. Why, 
 then, you will ask, should we make a study of his 
 writings ? They are valuable as literature ; and by 
 studying these essays, with their smooth, easy flow of 
 words, and natural, conversational sentences, the stu- 
 dent may gain juster conceptions of the value of purity 
 and simplicity of style, and may be led to avoid the 
 dangerous tendency to unnatural, stilted compositions. 
 They are also invaluable as history ; and show, as no 
 purely historical work can do, the status of social life. 
 Nowhere else can the student obtain such accurate, 
 such vivid panoramic views of the society of the Queen 
 
XXVI INTRODUCTION 
 
 Anne period, and such interesting pictures of its typi- 
 cal men and women. He who comes to Addison for ex- 
 citement, for thrilling scenes and incidents will go away 
 disappointed ; for he does not hold his readers as the 
 Ancient Mariner did the wedding guest — by weird and 
 mysterious tales, and blood-curdling fiction ; but he who 
 comes with appetite not cloyed with sensational litera- 
 ture, who comes as we go into the sunshine — for rest- 
 ful, healthful growth of mind and body — finds a tonic 
 which strengthens without giving undue exhilaration, 
 or leaving the restless cravings of an over-stimulated 
 mind. 
 
EVOLUTION OF THE SPECTATOR xxvii 
 
 EVOLUTION OF THE SPECTATOR 
 
 The Spectator, which first appeared before the public 
 March 9, 1711, was a folio sheet 12^ inches high and 8 
 inches wide. If we may judge by the letters which 
 Addison — who was joint contributor with Steele — 
 received, the paper then as now was conceded to be 
 the best of the numerous papers published, and pos- 
 sessed a great number of delighted readers. George 
 Trusty writes : — 
 
 " I constantly peruse your paper as I smoke my morn- 
 ing pipe . . . and really it gives a grateful relish to every 
 whiff; each paragraph is freighted either with some 
 useful or delightful notion, and I never fail of being 
 highly diverted or improved. . . . You charm the 
 fancy, soothe the passions, and insensibly lead the 
 reader to that sweetness of temper that you so well 
 describe : you rouse generosity with that spirit, and 
 inculcate humanity with that ease, that he must be 
 miserably stupid that is not affected by you." 
 
 And from a Mrs. Perry comes the following : — 
 " Mr. Spectator, — 
 
 " Your paper is a part of my tea-equipage ; and my 
 servant knows my humor so well, that calling for 
 my breakfast this morning (it being past my usual 
 hour) she answered, the Spectator was not yet come 
 
XXVlll INTRODUCTION 
 
 in ; but that the teakettle boiled, and she expected it 
 every moment.'' 
 
 But the Spectator — like other newspapers — did not 
 appear suddenly before the public. It was an evolu- 
 tion ; and " Like all masterpieces in art and literature, 
 marks the final stage of a long and painful journey ; 
 and the merit of their inventors consists largely in the 
 judgment with which they profited by the experiences 
 of many predecessors.'' The written letters which in 
 Eome, before the time of Christ, were sent by com- 
 manders to their generals may perhaps be considered 
 the germ of the modern newspaper ; for in addition to 
 necessary information on military matters there were 
 often added events transpiring in the city, and these 
 messages were not intended for one individual alone, 
 but were for the benefit of the whole army. We are 
 told that Caesar had them hung where all might read 
 them. Centuries afterward in Venice, news from 
 foreign countries was read aloud at stated times to the 
 people. Spasmodic as such communications were, pro- 
 hibited by one ruler and favored by another, they yet 
 impressed the public with their value ; and in process 
 of time the news-letter or newspaper appeared in many 
 parts of Europe, reaching England in the early part 
 of the seventeenth century. 
 
 Here as elsewhere they were in pamphlet form, on 
 small; coarse paper j were written, not printed, till as 
 
EVOLUTION OF THE SPECTATOR xxix 
 
 late as 1622. "What they lacked in size and material, 
 they made up in the length and sounding of title. 
 The Morning Mercury, or a Farce of Fools (1700) ; 
 The British Apollo, or Curious Amusements for the 
 Ingenious ; to which are added the Most Material 
 Occurrences, Foreign and Domestic, Performed by a 
 Society of Gentlemen (1708), are the titles of two of 
 these small editions. At first they were published 
 at irregular intervals — when there was something 
 especial to say ; then regularly, increasing as time 
 passed on until the editors ventured on two and three 
 a week ; and at last, beginning in 1702, a daily paper, 
 the Daily Courant, was maintained. 
 
 Either because editors were lacking in business 
 ability and knowledge of suitable material, or because 
 the public did not recognize the need of such informa- 
 tion, many papers were born, breathed for a day, and 
 expired leaving small trace of their existence. But 
 the death of one was certain to be followed by the 
 birth of another, and the number steadily increased. 
 In 1647, a tax was levied which caused many a pub- 
 lisher to vanish with his little sheet. However, the 
 opposition to the taxation grew and in time triumphed, 
 and the tax was removed. When later it was again 
 imposed, such a foothold had been gained that 
 publishers could afford to pay the few cents extra. 
 Another set-back was given when the government at- 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION 
 
 tempted to control all publications ; and it was a long 
 time before Parliament could be induced to see " that 
 it was wiser to leave falsehood and scurrility to be 
 gradually corrected by public opinion, as speaking 
 through an unfettered press, than to attack them by 
 a law which they had proved themselves able to 
 defy." After all the many discouragements, many 
 failures, many trials, the newspaper remained as a 
 proof of its necessity. 
 
 The subject-matter was somewhat similar to that of 
 more modern papers except that there was no attempt 
 to influence, to form, public opinion. News from 
 abroad was given, but before the eighteenth century 
 no Parliamentary proceedings were allowed to be pub- 
 lished. All startling adventures were seized upon 
 and embellished to suit the taste of a shallow public. 
 Petty personalities then as now glared from the pages, 
 and advertisements of medicine, '* healing by royal 
 touch," match-making, and prize-fighting occupied 
 much space. But it was not until Steele issued the 
 Taller, in 1709, that the new element was introduced, 
 which began "to hold a mirror" up to society and 
 reflect the social life, with its customs and morals, 
 and its gossip of club and coffee-house. Steele carried 
 out his purpose, " to expose the false arts of life, to 
 pull off the disguises of cunning, vanity, and affecta- 
 tion, and to recommend a general simplicity in our 
 
EVOLUTION OF THE SPECTATOR xxxi 
 
 dress, our discourse, and our behavior''; and herein 
 lies the great difference between his material and that 
 of other papers. 
 
 Neairly two years afterward, Steele saw fit to dis- 
 continue the Tatler and to commence another paper, 
 the Spectator. Addison, who had written many ar- 
 ticles for the former, now contributed equally with 
 Steele, and his connection with the paper caused it 
 to become extremely popular. Eapidly it gained re- 
 semblance to our modern magazine in material, the 
 critical and ethical essay predominating, while news 
 items were left to ordinary newspapers. The Spec- 
 tator was issued daily — the Friday edition confining 
 itself to literary matter, the Saturday to moral and 
 religious ; and it aimed to accomplish even a greater 
 work than its predecessor had done. More and more 
 attention was given to forming and raising the stand- 
 ard of public opinion in '' manners, morals, art, and 
 literature.'' The editors hoped to meet the needs of 
 all people, but especially the needs of women. Addi- 
 son realized that through them must come the better- 
 ment of society and there the reform must begin. He 
 says : — 
 
 ^^But there are none to whom this paper will be 
 more useful than to the female world. I have often 
 thought there has not been sufficient pains taken in 
 finding out proper employments and diversions for the 
 
XXXU INTRODUCTION 
 
 fair ones. Their amusements seem contrived for them 
 rather as they are women, than as they are reasonable 
 creatures ; and are more adapted to the sex than to the 
 species. The toilet is their great scene of business, 
 and the right adjusting of their hair the principal em- 
 ployment of their lives. The sorting of a suit of rib- 
 bons is reckoned a very good morning's work ; and if 
 they make an excursion to a mercer's or a toy shop, so 
 great a fatigue unfits them for anything else all the 
 day after. Their more serious occupations are sewing 
 and embroidery, and their greatest drudgery the prep- 
 aration of jellies and sweetmeats. This, I say, is the 
 state of ordinary women ; though I know there are 
 multitudes of those of a more elevated life and conver- 
 sation, that move in an exalted sphere of knowledge 
 and virtue, that join all the beauties of the mind to 
 the ornaments of dress, and inspire a kind of awe and 
 respect, as well as love, into their male beholders. 
 I hope to increase the number of these by publishing 
 this daily paper which I shall always endeavor to 
 make an innocent, if not an improving entertainment, 
 and by that means at least divert the minds of my 
 female readers from greater trifles." 
 
 It is a well-recognized failing with a would-be-re- 
 former to aim above the comprehension of the class he 
 wishes to help ; and instead of moving on their plane 
 of thought, to expect them to come up to his. Addison 
 
EVOLUTION OF THE SPECTATOR xxxiii 
 
 made no such mistake. He knew instinctively the 
 people, descended to their level, and in a light, story- 
 telling form, gave them what their minds were able to 
 grasp. As they were not a reading people, as they 
 were not interested in homilies on right living, nor 
 capable of deep, logical thinking, they must be reached 
 by simple discussions on what occupied most of their 
 attention — the little everyday affairs of life. They 
 had to be led as one leads a child — by arousing the 
 curiosity which eagerly asks, "What did they do 
 next?" To most intellectual men, and certainly to 
 illiterate ones, nothing appeals so strongly as the 
 loves and hates, the joys and sorrows, the successes 
 and failures, and the thoughts of their fellow mor- 
 tals. The child wants its story of Cinderella with her 
 triumph, and the wonderful adventures of Jack and 
 his beanstalk ; the man is just as absorbed in Orlando's 
 love for Eosalind, and Antonio's anxiety for his com- 
 mercial ventures. And Addison and Steele based their 
 plan of the Spectator on this knowledge of human 
 longing. They present an imaginary club, the mem- 
 bers of which are typical people, and with a thread of 
 narrative skilfully binding them together, suggest the 
 lessons they wish to impart, through the experiences 
 of Ned Softly, Tom Folio, Sir Andrew Freeport, Sir 
 Roger de Coverley, or through the Spectator himself 
 — under which name we find Addison ; and the Eng- 
 
XXXIV INTRODUCTION 
 
 lish public read and profited. It is safe to say that 
 no publication with equal circulation, ever benefited 
 more people than did the Spectator. 
 
 Having seen the eighteenth-century England, the 
 value of Addison^s work, and the growth of the news- 
 paper until the evolution of the Spectator^ Ave are pre- 
 pared to study certain of the essays called The Sir 
 Roger de Coverley Papers. Not all in which Sir Roger 
 is mentioned are in this book ; but the selected ones 
 aim to give a complete portrait of Sir Roger — a 
 typical landed gentleman — with his quaint humors 
 and charitable disposition. In studying his peculiari- 
 ties it is well to note in how far Addison has painted 
 his own picture. But it is not advisable to attempt to 
 fit the numerous characters in these essays to actual 
 people, although in many instances it might be done ; 
 however, the student must bear in mind that society 
 contained many Sir Rogers, Will Wimbles, Will 
 Honeycombs; that "Moll Whites" existed in abun- 
 dance; that superstition was prevalent, and that the 
 relations between parsons and squires was just what 
 Addison has portrayed. 
 
 The text is founded on Mr. Henry Morley's edition 
 of the Spectator, published in 1891 ; but an occasional 
 sentence has been dropped, and unnecessary capitals 
 omitted in order to make the reading more attrac- 
 
LIVES OF ADDISON AND STEELE XXXV 
 
 tive. Criticisms of the style are not attempted, be- 
 cause they deprive the student of making unbiased 
 estimates ; and only such notes are affixed as might 
 be difficult to obtain in an ordinary schoolroom. 
 
 LIVES OF ADDISON AND STEELE 
 
 Nothing is of more importance to a man than his 
 birth ; yet apparently there is nothing which the pub- 
 lic cares less to remember than the date of his appear- 
 ance. Nevertheless, it seems well to commence these 
 biographical sketches by stating that Joseph Addison 
 was born May 1, 1672, in Wiltshire, England. He re- 
 ceived a college education ; and at the age of twenty- 
 seven had shown so much intellectual ability that 
 influential Whig leaders, desiring his influence, ob- 
 tained for him a pension from the Government, and 
 sent him to the Continent. Here, studying and writ- 
 ing, he enjoyed two years ; then the downfall of the 
 Whig party causing the loss of his pension, he re- 
 turned to England. Soon after this, his poem, "The 
 Campaign," gained for him the position of Under Sec- 
 retary of State. Later, as secretary of Lord Wharton 
 he went to Ireland, where he formed the friendship of 
 Swift. He was now a popular man ; and his popular- 
 ity was greatly increased by his contributions to the 
 
XXXVl INTROD UCTIOJSr 
 
 Tatler, and later by his connection with the Spectator. 
 In 1716 he married the Countess Dowager of War- 
 wick. She was proud and haughty, and his last years 
 were not happy ones, though he was made Secretary of 
 State, and was looked upon as the greatest literary 
 man of his time. He died in 1719. 
 
 Eichard Steele, who says " I am an Englishman born 
 in the city of Dublin," also opened his eyes on the 
 world in 1672 ; but he came in the cold, dreary March 
 — not in the sunny, joyful May as did his friend Ad- 
 dison. Neither has left many records of his boyhood, 
 and so we conclude that with each it was uneventful, 
 and the boys ^^not very good and not very bad." 
 Steele, though a poor boy, must have had some school- 
 ing, for he was able to enter Oxford university in 1690. 
 But he was of too restless a nature to confine himself 
 to student life, and in a short time left college to join 
 the army. He enlisted as private, but was afterward 
 made captain ; and tells us that he " first became an 
 author while Ensign of the Guards." His first prose 
 work. The Christian Hero, which showed the ideal man, 
 was criticised much because Steele himself practised 
 so little -the virtues of his hero. When thirty-five he 
 received from the Government the appointment of 
 Gazetteer, and about this time married for his second 
 wife (very little is known of the first) Miss Mary 
 Scurlock, to whom he was passionately devoted. His 
 
LIVES OF ADDISON AND STEELE xxxvii 
 
 need of money brought about the publication of the 
 Tatler,m which connection his name is best known. 
 Following this periodical came the Spectator, the 
 Guardian, and numerous other papers having the same 
 general purpose. Steele became member of Parlia- 
 ment and in 1715 was knighted by George I. He died 
 at Carmarthen, September 1, 1729. 
 
 The lives of these two men, so nearly the same age, 
 and so closely connected, varied much in experiences. 
 From letters of Steele, it is evident that he was thrown 
 on his own resources when a mere boy, his father, a 
 lawyer, dying when Eichard was but five years old, 
 and the mother surviving but a short time. Addison's 
 father, a prominent dean in good circumstances, had a 
 comfortable and somewhat luxurious home, and the 
 boy knew nothing of privation and struggle with pov- 
 erty. In their college days Thackeray marks the dif- 
 ference. "Addison wrote his (Steele's) exercises. 
 Addison did his best themes. "He ran on Addison's 
 messages; fagged for him and blacked his shoes.'^ 
 In middle life both gained friends and lucrative posi- 
 tions by their writings ; yet Steele was continually in 
 trouble financially and socially, while Addison moved 
 serenely along and experienced little difficulty in get- 
 ting what he wanted. Steele's home was probably a 
 happier one than Addison's — if there can be a com- 
 parison between a home where the whole gamut of 
 
XXXviii INTROD UCTIOW 
 
 chords and discords is sounded at various times, and one 
 where it is invariably at low pitch. There was un- 
 doubtedly much love and much fault-finding from Mrs. 
 Steele, much coldness and much haughtiness from Mrs. 
 Addison. Addison had one child, Charlotte, who lived 
 to old age but never married. Only one of Steele's 
 children, Elizabeth, reached maturity, and she became 
 the wife of Lord Trevor. 
 
 Thackeray says in deciding of a great man we must 
 ask ourselves if we should like to live with him. 
 Judging from this standpoint, of these men so widely 
 different in character, the lovers of one would scarcely 
 be lovers of the other, and so would not consider the two 
 equally worthy. Of Addison, Macaulay says : " The 
 just harmony of qualities, the exact temper between 
 the stern and the human virtues, the habitual observ- 
 ance of every law, not only of moral rectitude, but of 
 moral grace and dignity, distinguish him from all 
 men.'' And Thackeray declares: "He must have 
 been one of the finest gentlemen the world ever saw ; 
 at all moments of life serene and courteous, cheerful 
 and calm.'' Swift tells us that "Steele hath com- 
 mitted more absurdities in economy, friendship, love, 
 duty, good manners, politics, religion, and writing 
 than ever fell to one man's share," and this is proba- 
 bly true ; but a man who in an age of almost unbridled 
 license in thought and speech of woman, possessed 
 
LIVES OF ADDISON AND STEELE xxxix 
 
 nothing but chivalrous tenderness and loving rever- 
 ence for her purity and beauty, surely deserves that 
 women and all lovers of women should dwell on his 
 virtues and forget his weaknesses. Addison, polite 
 and gentlemanly always, desirous of helping, yet 
 lacked entirely the enthusiastic, respectful admiration 
 for woman which animated Steele. Addison wished 
 to raise her so that she might be respected; Steele 
 found something to respect before she was raised. 
 Does this mean anything to us, or is it a quality to 
 ignore ? Is there not something of greatness, some 
 element of the highest type of manhood in this ability 
 to detect under all the flimsy, affected showiness of 
 the times, the undeveloped, inherent nobility of wom- 
 anhood ? Steele had his faults. Swift was right ; 
 but the faults of this " same gentle, kindly, improvi- 
 dent, jovial Dick Steele" were the faults of an im- 
 petuous child who repents and sins again only to shed 
 other tears of repentance. Addison was a man in 
 boyhood ; Steele, a boy even in manhood ; and who 
 shall say that Steele with his " sweet and compassion- 
 ate nature," though rashly living for the moment, is 
 less lovable than the polished, dignified Addison whom 
 all the world honors ? 
 
 When they met as boys at the Charter House school, 
 their very dissimilarity tended to cement a friendship 
 as strong as that of David and Jonathan, Damon and 
 
xl INTROD UCTION 
 
 Pythias. The persuasive cordiality of Steele pene- 
 trated the bashf Illness and natural reserve of Addison, 
 while ^^ Addison's stronger, more stable, more serious 
 character affected very favorably his (Steele's) own 
 wayward, volatile nature." The love was mutual and 
 the dependence mutual and actual. Later in life they 
 quarrelled — as most friends do, sometimes. A Bill 
 to limit the number of peers was before Parlia- 
 ment. Addison favored it, Steele opposed it, and 
 bitter articles were written by each. Unfortunately 
 Addison's death, following soon, prevented the recon- 
 ciliation which would, undoubtedly, have occurred. 
 Afterward Steele is reported to have written that 
 " they still preserved the most passionate concern for 
 their mutual welfare." And Morley tells us " The 
 friendship — equal friendship — between Steele and 
 Addison was as unbroken as the love between Steele 
 and his wife." 
 
 And out of this friendship came the Spectator ; for 
 it is safe to say that without the cooperation of the 
 two, the paper would never have reached such perfec- 
 tion. Addison was in Ireland when he recognized 
 in the new periodical, the Tatler, the hand of his 
 friend Steele. Seeing at once his own fitness for 
 such work he offered to contribute, and in his first 
 essay showed those bright touches of humor which 
 later so enchanted the public in the iSpectator, That 
 
LIVES OF ADDISON AND STEELE xli 
 
 the two friends should unite in publishing the latter 
 paper was the natural outcome ; for neither was at his 
 best without the other. What Steele originated, Addi- 
 son perfected. Morley says " It was the firm hand 
 of his friend Steele that helped Addison up to the 
 place in literature which became him. It was Steele 
 who caused the nice, critical taste which Addison might 
 have spent only in accordance with the fleeting fash- 
 ions of his time, to be inspired with all Addison's 
 religious earnestness, and to be enlivened with the 
 free play of that sportive humor, delicately whimsical 
 and gaily wise, which made his conversation the de- 
 light of the few men with whom he sat at ease ; " and 
 again, "the Spectator is the abiding monument com- 
 memorating the friendship of these two.'' Whether 
 the originator or perfecter is greater will always be 
 an open question ; but critics must concede that both 
 are great ; that the Spectator is not the work of Addi- 
 son alone, not the work of Steele alone, but is the 
 united genius of Addison and Steele and truly their 
 " monument." 
 
SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 
 
 I. THE SPECTATOR'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 
 
 I HAVE observed that a reader seldom peruses a 
 book with pleasure 'till he knows whether the writer 
 of it be a black or a fair man, of a mild or choleric 
 disposition, married or a bachelor, with other partic- 
 ulars of the like nature, that conduce very much to 5 
 the right understanding of an author. To gratify 
 this curiosity, which is so natural to a reader, I design 
 this paper and my next as prefatory discourses to my 
 following writings, and shall give some account in 
 them of the several persons that are engaged in this 10 
 work. As the chief trouble of compiling, digesting, 
 and correcting will fall to my share, I must do myself 
 the justice to open the work with my own history. 
 
 I was born to a small hereditary estate, which, 
 according to the tradition of the village where it lies, 15 
 was bounded by the same hedges and ditches in Wil- 
 liam the Conqueror's time that it is at present, and 
 B 1 
 
2 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [l 
 
 has been delivered down from father to son whole and 
 entire, without the loss or acquisition of a single 
 field or meadow, during the space of six hundred 
 years. There runs a story in the family, that, before 
 
 5 I was born, my mother dreamt that she was to bring 
 forth a judge; whether this might proceed from a 
 lawsuit which was then depending in the family, or 
 my father's being a justice of the peace, I cannot 
 determine ; for I am not so vain as to think it pre- 
 
 10 saged any dignity that I should arrive at in my future 
 life, though that was the interpretation which the 
 neighborhood put upon it. The gravity of my be- 
 havior at my very first appearance in the world 
 seemed to favor my mother's dream ; for, as she has 
 
 15 often told me, I threw away my rattle before I was 
 two months old, and would not make use of my coral 
 till they had taken away the bells from it. 
 
 As for the rest of my infancy, there being nothing 
 in it remarkable, I shall pass it over in silence. I 
 
 20 find that, during my nonage, I had the reputation of 
 a very sullen youth, but was always a favorite of my 
 schoolmaster, who used to say, that my parts were solid, 
 and would wear well, I had not been long at the 
 University, before I distinguished myself by a most 
 
 25 profound silence j for, during the space of eight years, 
 
l] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 3 
 
 excepting in the public exercises of the college, I 
 scarce uttered the quantity of an hundred words ; and 
 indeed do not remember that I ever spoke three sen- 
 tences together in my whole life. Whilst I was in 
 this learned body, I applied myself with so much 5 
 diligence to my studies, that there are very few 
 celebrated books, either in the learned° or modern 
 tongues, which I am not acquainted with. 
 
 Upon the death of my father, I was resolved to 
 travel into foreign countries, and therefore left the lo 
 University with the character of an odd, unaccountable 
 fellow, that had a great deal of learning, if I would 
 but show it. An insatiable thirst after knowledge 
 carried me into all the countries of Europe in which 
 there was anything new or strange to be seen ; nay, to 15 
 such a degree was my curiosity raised, that having 
 read the controversies'^ of some great men concerning 
 the antiquities of Egypt, I made a voyage to Grand 
 Cairo, on purpose to take the measure of a pyramid ; 
 and, as soon as I had set myself right in that particu- 20 
 lar, returned to my native country with great satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 I have passed my latter years in this city, where 
 I am frequently seen in most public places, though 
 there are not above half a dozen of my select friends 25 
 
4 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [l 
 
 that know me : of whom my next paper shall give a 
 more particular account. There is no place of general 
 resort wherein I do not often make my appearance; 
 sometimes I am seen thrusting my head into a round 
 
 5 of politicians at Will's,^ and listening with great atten- 
 tion to the narratives that are made in those little 
 circular audiences. Sometimes I smoke a pipe at 
 Child' s,° and while I seem attentive to nothing but the 
 Postman° overhear the conversation of every table in 
 
 10 the room. I appear on Sunday nights at St. James's 
 coffee-house,° and sometimes join the little committee 
 of politics in the inner room, as one who comes there 
 to hear and improve. My face is likewise very well 
 known at the Grecian,® the Cocoa-Tree,° and in the 
 
 15 theatres both of Drury Lane and the Hay-Market. 
 I have been taken for a merchant upon the Ex- 
 change for above these ten years, and sometimes pass 
 for a Jew in the assembly of stock-jobbers at Jona- 
 than's.° In short, wherever I see a cluster of people, 
 
 20 I always mix with them, though I never open my lips 
 but in my own club. 
 
 Thus I live in the world rather as a spectator of 
 mankind than as one of the species ; by which means 
 I have made myself a speculative statesman, soldier, 
 
 25 merchant, and artisan, without ever meddling with 
 
l] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 5 
 
 any practical part in life. I am very well versed in 
 the theory of an husband or a father, and can discern 
 the errors in the economy, business, and diversion of 
 others, better than those who are engaged in them: 
 as standers-by discover blots, which are apt to escape 5 
 those who are in the game. I never espoused any 
 party with violence, and am resolved to observe an 
 exact neutrality between the Whigs and Tories, unless 
 I shall be forced to declare myself by the hostilities 
 of either side. In short, I have acted in all the parts 10 
 of my life as a looker-on, which is the character I 
 intend to preserve in this paper. 
 
 I have given the reader just so much of my history 
 and character, as to let him see I am not altogether 
 unqualified for the business I have undertaken. As 15 
 for other particulars in my life and adventures, I shall 
 insert them in following papers, as I shall see occa- 
 sion. In the mean time, when I consider how much 
 I have seen, read, and heard, I begin to blame my 
 own taciturnity ; and since I have neither time nor 20 
 inclination to communicate the fulness of my heart 
 in speech, I am resolved to do it in writing, and to 
 print° myself out, if possible, before I die. I have 
 been often told by my friends, that it is pity so many 
 useful discoveries which I have made should be in 25 
 
6 sin ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [i 
 
 the possession of a silent man. For this reason, there- 
 fore, I shall publish a sheet full of thoughts every 
 morning, for the benefit of my contemporaries; and 
 if I can any way contribute to the diversion or im- 
 
 5 provement of the country in which I live, I shall leave 
 it when I am summoned out of it, with the secret 
 satisfaction of thinking that I have not lived in 
 vain. 
 
 There are three very material points which I have 
 
 10 not spoken to in this paper, and which, for several 
 important reasons, I must keep to myself, at least for 
 some time : I mean, an account of my name, my age, 
 and my lodgings. I must confess I would gratify my 
 reader in anything that is reasonable ; but as for 
 
 15 these three particulars, though I am sensible they 
 might tend very much to the embdlishment of my 
 paper, I cannot yet come to a resolution of communi- 
 cating them to the public. They would indeed draw 
 me out of that obscurity which I have enjoyed for 
 
 20 many years, and expose me in public places to several 
 salutes and civilities, which have been always very 
 disagreeable to me ; for the greatest pain I can suffer 
 is the being talked to and being stared at. It is for 
 this reason likewise that I keep my complexion and 
 
 25 dress as very great secrets ; though it is not impossi- 
 
Il] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 7 
 
 ble but I may make discoveries of both in the progress 
 of the work I have undertaken. 
 
 After having been thus particular upon myself, I 
 shall in to-morrow's paper give an account of those 
 gentlemen who are concerned with me in this work ; 5 
 for, as I have before intimated, a plan of it is laid 
 and concerted (as all other matters of importance are) 
 in a club. However, as my friends have engaged me 
 to stand in the front, those who have a mind to corre- 
 spond with me may direct their letters to the Spec- lo 
 TATOR, at Mr. Buckley's, in Little Britain." For I 
 must further acquaint the reader, that though our 
 club meets only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have 
 appointed a committee to sit every night, for the in- 
 spection of all such papers as may contribute to the 15 
 advancement of the public weal. 
 
 II. DESCRIPTION OF CLUB MEMBERS. 
 
 The first of our society is a gentleman of Worces- 
 tershire, of ancient descent, a baronet, his name Sir 
 Eoger de Coverley. His great-grandfather was in- 
 ventor of that famous country-dance° which is called 20 
 after him. All who know that shire are very well 
 acquainted with the parts and merits of Sir Eoger. 
 He is a gentleman that is very^singular in his behav- 
 
8 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [ll 
 
 ior, but his singularities x3roceed from his good sense, 
 and are contradictions to the manners of the world 
 only as he thinks the world is in the wrong. How- 
 ever, this humor creates him no enemies, for he does 
 
 5 nothing with sourness or obstinacy; and his being 
 unconfined to modes and forms makes him but the 
 readier and more capable to please and oblige all who 
 know him. When he is in town, he lives in Soho 
 Square."" It is said he keeps himself a bachelor by 
 
 10 reason he was crossed in love by a perverse beautiful 
 widow of the next county to him. Before this disap- 
 pointment. Sir Koger was what you call a fine° gentle- 
 man, had often supped with my Lord Eochester° and 
 Sir George Etherege,° fought a duel upon his first com- 
 
 15 ing to town, and kicked Bully Dawson° in a public 
 coffee-house for calling him "youngster." But being 
 ill used by the above-mentioned widow, he was very 
 serious for a year and a half ; and though, his temper 
 being naturally jovial, he at last got over it, he grew 
 
 20 careless of himself, and never dressed afterwards. 
 He continues to wear a coat and doublet of the same 
 cut that were in fashion at the time of his repulse, 
 which, in his merry humors, he tells us, has been in 
 and out twelve times since he first wore it. He is 
 
 25 now in his fifty-sixth year, cheerful, gay, and hearty ; 
 
Il] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 9 
 
 keeps a good house in both town and country ; a great 
 lover of mankind ; but there is such a mirthful cast 
 in his behavior, that he is rather beloved than es- 
 teemed. His tenants grow rich, his servants look 
 satisfied, all the young women profess love to him, 5 
 and the young men are glad of his company: when 
 he comes into a house he calls the servants by their 
 names, and talks all the way up stairs to a visit. I 
 must not omit that Sir Eoger is a justice of the quo- 
 rum ; that he fills the chair at a quarter-session with 10 
 great abilities ; and, three months ago, gained uni- 
 versal applause by explaining a passage in the Game- 
 Act.° 
 
 The gentleman next in esteem and authority among 
 us is another bachelor, who is a member of the Inner 15 
 Temple ;° a man of great probity, wit, and understand- 
 ing ; but he has chosen his place of residence rather to 
 obey the direction of an old hum or some father, than 
 in pursuit of his own inclinations. He was placed 
 there to study the laws of the land, and is the most 20 
 learned of any of the house in those of the stage. 
 Aristotle^ and Longinus are much better understood 
 by him than Littleton" or Coke. The father sends 
 up every post questions relating to marriage-articles, 
 leases, and tenures, in the neighborhood; all which 25 
 
10 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [ii 
 
 questions he agrees with an attorney to answer and 
 take care of in the lump. He is studying the pas- 
 sions themselves, when he should be inquiring into 
 the debates among men which arise from them. He 
 
 5 knows the argument of each of the orations of' Demos- 
 thenes and TuUy, but not one case in the reports of 
 our own courts. No one ever took him for a fool, but 
 none, except his intimate friends, know he has a great 
 deal of wit.° This turn makes him at once both dis- 
 
 lo interested and agreeable : as few of his thoughts are 
 drawn from business, they are most of them fit for 
 conversation. His taste of books is a little too just! 
 for the age he lives in; he has read all, but approves' 
 of very few. His familiarity with the customs, man- 
 
 15 ners, actions, and writings of the ancients makes him 
 a very delicate observer of what occurs to him in the 
 present world. He is an excellent critic, and the time 
 of the play is his hour of business ; exactly at five° he 
 passes through 'New Inn, crosses through Eussell Court, 
 
 20 and takes a turn at Will's till the play begins ;•- he has 
 his shoes rubbed and his periwig powdered at the 
 barber's as you go into the Eose.° It is for the good 
 of the audience when he is at a play, for the actors 
 have an ambition to please him. 
 
 25 The person of next consideration is Sir Andrew 
 
Il] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 11 
 
 Freeport, a mercliant of great eminence in the city 
 of London, a person of indefatigable industry, strong 
 reason, and great experience. His notions of trade 
 are noble and generous, and (as every rich man has 
 usually some sly way of jesting, which would make 5 
 no great figure were he not a rich man) he calls the 
 •sea the British Common. He is acquainted with com- 
 merce in all its parts, and will tell you that it is 
 a stupid and barbarous way to extend dominion by 
 arms ; for true power is to be got by arts and indus- 10 
 try. He will often argue that if this part of our trade 
 were well cultivated, we should gain from one nation ; 
 and if another, from another. I have laeard him prove 
 that diligence makes more lasting acquisitions than 
 valor, and that sloth has ruined more nations than the 15 
 sword. He abounds in several frugal maxims, amongst 
 which the greatest favorite^ is, ^^ A penny saved is a 
 penny got.'' A general trader of good sense is pleas- 
 anter company than a general scholar ; and Sir Andrew 
 having a natural^ unaffected eloquence, the perspicuity 20 
 of his discourse gives the same pleasure that wit would 
 in another man. He has made his fortunes himself, 
 and says that England may be richer than other king- 
 doms by as plain methods g^s he himself is richer than 
 other men ; though at the same time I can say this of 25 
 
12 SIR ROGER DE CQVERLEY PAPERS [ll 
 
 him, that there is not a point in the compass but blows 
 home a ship in which he is an owner. 
 
 Next to Sir Andrew in the club-room sits Captain 
 Sentry,° a gentleman of great courage, good under- 
 
 5 standing, but invincible modesty. He is one of those 
 that deserve very well, but are very awkward at put- 
 ting their talents within the observation of such as 
 should take notice of them. He was some years a 
 captain, and behaved himself with great gallantry in 
 
 10 several engagements and at several sieges ; but having 
 a small estate of his own, and being next heir to Sir 
 Eoger, he has quitted a way of life in which no man 
 can rise suitably to his merit who is not something of 
 a courtier as well as a soldier. I have heard him 
 
 15 often lament that in a profession where merit is 
 placed in so conspicuous a view, impudence should 
 get the better of modesty. When he has talked to 
 this purpose, I never heard him make a sour expres- 
 sion, but frankly confess that he left the world be- 
 
 20 cause he was not fit for it. A strict honesty and an 
 even regular behavior are in themselves obstacles to 
 him that must press through crowds, who endeavor at 
 the same end with himself, — the favor of a com- 
 mander. He will, however, in this way of talk, excuse 
 
 25 generals for not disposing according to men's desert^ 
 
Il] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 13 
 
 or inquiring into it ; " for/' says he, " that great man 
 who has a mind to help me, has as many to break 
 through to come at me, as I have to come at him ; " 
 therefore he will conclude, that the man who would 
 make a figure, especially in a military way, must get 5 
 over all false modesty, and assist his patron against 
 the importunity of other pretenders by a proper assur- 
 ance in his own vindication. He says it is a civil 
 cowardice to be backward in asserting what you ought 
 to expect, as it is a military fear to be slow in attack- 10 
 ing when it is your duty. With this candor does the 
 gentleman speak of himself and others. The same 
 frankness runs through all his conversation. The 
 military part of his life has furnished him with 
 many adventures, in the relation of which he is very 15 
 agreeable to the company ; for he is never overbear- 
 ing, though accustomed to command men in the utmost 
 degree below him; nor ever too obsequious from a 
 habit of obeying men highly above him. 
 
 But that our society may not appear a set of humor- 20 
 ists unacquainted with the gallantries and pleasures of 
 the age, we have among us the gallant Will Honey- 
 comb, a gentleman who, according to his years, should 
 be in the decline of his life, but having ever been very 
 careful of his person, and always had a very easy fort- 25 
 
14 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [ll 
 
 line, time has made but very little impression either 
 by wrinkles on his forehead, or traces in his brain. 
 His person is well turned, and of a good height. He is 
 very ready at that sort of discourse with which men 
 
 5 usually entertain women. He has all his life dressed 
 very well, and remembers habits as others do men. 
 He can smile when one speaks to him, and laughs 
 easily. He knows the history of every mode, and can 
 inform you from which of the French king's wenches 
 
 10 our wives and daughters had this manner of curling 
 their hair, that way of placing their hoods ; whose 
 frailty was covered by such a sort of petticoat, and 
 whose vanity to show her foot made that part of the 
 dress so short in such a year; in a word, all his 
 
 15 conversation and knowledge has been in the female 
 world. As other men of his age will take notice to 
 you what such a minister said upon such and such 
 an occasion, he will tell you when the Duke of Mon- 
 mouth danced at court such a woman was then smitten, 
 
 20 another was taken with him at the head of his troop 
 in the Park. In all these important relations, he has 
 ever about the same time received a kind glance or a 
 blow of a fan from some celebrated beauty, mother of 
 the present Lord Such-a-one. This way of talking of 
 
 25 his very much enlivens the conversation among us 
 
Il] SIR ROGER BE COVERLET PAPERS 15 
 
 of a more sedate turn; and I find there is not one of 
 the company, but myself, who rarely speak at all, but 
 speaks of him as of that sort of man who is usually 
 called a well-bred fine gentleman. To conclude his 
 character, where women are not concerned, he is an 5 
 / honest, worthy man. 
 
 I cannot tell whether I am to account him whom I 
 am next to speak of as one of our company, for he 
 visits us but seldom ; but when he does, it adds to 
 every man else a new enjoyment of himself. He is a 10 
 clergyman, a very philosophic man, of general learn- 
 ing, great sanctity of life, and the most exact good 
 breeding. He has the misfortune to be of a very 
 weak constitution, and consequently cannot accept of 
 such cares and business as preferments in his function 15 
 would oblige him to ; he is therefore among divines 
 what a chamber-counsellor° is among lawyers. The 
 probity of his mind, and the integrity of his life, 
 create him followers, as being eloquent or loud ad- 
 vances others. He seldom introduces the subject he 20 
 speaks upon ; but we are so far gone in^years, that he 
 observes, when he is among us, an earnestness to have 
 him fall on some divine topic, which he always treats 
 with much authority, as one who has no interests in 
 this world, as one who i§ hastening to the object of 25 
 
16 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [ill 
 
 all his wishes, and conceives hope from his decays and 
 infirmities. These are my ordinary companions. 
 
 -ill. SIR ROGER'S OPINION OF TRUE WISDOM. 
 
 I KNOW no evil under the sun so great as the abuse 
 of the understanding, and -yet there is no one vice 
 
 5 more common. It has diffused itself through both 
 sexes and all qualities of mankind; and there is 
 hardly that person to be found, who is not more con- 
 cerned for the reputation of wit and sense, than hon- 
 esty and virtue. But this unhappy affectation of 
 
 10 being wise rather than honest, witty than good- 
 natured, is the source of most of the ill habits of life. 
 Such false impressions are owing to the abandoned 
 writings of men of wit, and the awkward imitation of 
 the rest of mankind. 
 
 15 For this reason Sir Eoger was saying last night, 
 that he was of opinion that none but men of fine parts 
 deserve to be hanged. The reflections of such men 
 are so delicate upon all occurrences which they are 
 concerned in, that they should be exposed to more 
 
 20 than ordinary infamy and punishment, for offending 
 against such quick admonitions as their own souls 
 give them, and blunting the fine edge of their minds 
 in such a manner, that they are no more shocked at 
 
Ill] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 17 
 
 vice and folly than men of slower capacities. There 
 is no greater monster in being than a very ill man of 
 great parts. He lives like a man in a palsy, with one 
 side of him dead. While perhaps he enjoys the satis- 
 faction of luxury, of wealth, of ambition, he has lost 5 
 the taste of good-will, of friendship, of innocence. 
 Scarecrow, the beggar, in Lincoln' s-Inn-rields,° who 
 disabled himself in his right leg, and asks alms all 
 day to get himself a warm supper and a trull at night, 
 is not half so despicable a wretch, as such a man of lo 
 sense. The beggar has no relish above sensations; 
 he finds rest more agreeable than motion; and while 
 he has a warm fire and his doxy, never reflects that he 
 deserves to be whipped. Every man who terminates 
 his satisfaction and enjoyments within the supply of 15 
 his own necessities and passions, is, says Sir Eoger, 
 in my eye, as poor a rogue as Scarecrow. "But," con- 
 tinued he, " for the loss of public and private virtue, 
 we are beholden to your men of parts forsooth; it 
 is with them no matter what is done, so it is done 20 
 with an air. But to me, who am so whimsical in a 
 corrupt age as to act according to nature and reason, 
 a selfish man, in the most shining circumstance and 
 equipage, appears in the same condition with the fel- 
 low above-mentioned, but more contemptible in pro- 25 
 
18 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [ill 
 
 portion to what more he robs the public of, and enjoys 
 above him. I lay it down therefore for a rule, that 
 the whole man is to move together; that every action 
 of any importance is to have a prospect of public 
 
 5 good; and that the general tendency of our indifferent 
 actions ought to be agreeable to the dictates of reason, 
 of religion, of good-breeding; without this, a man, as 
 I have before hinted, is hopping instead of walking; 
 he is not in his entire and proper motion." 
 
 10 While the honest knight was thus bewildering him- 
 self in good starts, I looked intentively upon him, 
 which made him, I thought, collect his mind a little. 
 "What I aim at," says he, "is to represent that I am 
 of opinion, to polish our understandings, and neglect 
 
 15 our manners, is of all things the most inexcusable. 
 Reason should govern passion, but instead of that, 
 you see, it is often subservient to it; and, as unac- 
 countable as one would think it, a wise man is not 
 always a good man." This degeneracy is not only 
 
 20 the guilt of particular persons, but also, at some 
 times, of a whole people ; and perhaps it may appear 
 upon examination, that the most polite ages are the 
 least virtuous. This may be attributed to the folly 
 of admitting wit and learning as merit in themselves, 
 
 25 without considering the application of them. By this 
 
Ill] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 19 
 
 means it becomes a rule, not so much to regard what 
 we do, as how we do it. But this false beauty will not 
 pass upon men of honest minds and true taste. Sir 
 Richard Blackmore° says, with as much good sense as 
 virtue, " It is a mighty dishonor and shame to employ 5 
 excellent faculties and abundance of wit, to humor 
 and please men in their vices and follies. The great 
 enemy of mankind, notwithstanding his wit and an- 
 gelic faculties, is the most odious being in the whole 
 creation." He goes on soon after to say, very gener- lo 
 ously, that he undertook the writing of his poem "to 
 rescue the Muses out of the hands of ravishers, to re- 
 store them to their sweet and chaste mansions, and to 
 engage them in an employment suitable to their dig- 
 nity." This certainly ought to be the purpose of every 15 
 man who appears in public, and whoever does not 
 proceed upon that foundation injures his country as 
 fast as he succeeds in his studies. When modesty 
 ceases to be the chief ornament of one sex, and integ- 
 rity of the other, society is upon a wrong basis, and 20 
 we shall be ever after without rules to guide our judg- 
 ment in what is really becoming and ornamental. 
 Nature and reason direct one thing, passion and humor 
 another. To follow the dictates of the two latter is 
 going into a road that is both endless and intricate; 25 
 
20 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [ill 
 
 when we pursue the other, our passage is delightful, 
 and what we aim at easily attainable. 
 
 I do not doubt but England is at present as polite a 
 nation as any in the world; but any man who thinks 
 5 can easily see that the affectation of being gay and 
 in fashion has very near eaten up our good sense and 
 our religion. Is there anything so just as that mode 
 and gallantry should be built upon exerting ourselves 
 in what is proper and agreeable to the institutions of 
 10 justice and piety among us? And yet is there any- 
 thing more common than that we run in perfect contra- 
 diction to them? All which is supported by no other 
 pretension than that it is done with what we call a 
 good grace. 
 15 Nothing ought to be held laudable or becoming, 
 but what nature itself should prompt us to think so. 
 Kespect to all kinds of superiors is founded, me- 
 thinks, upon instinct; and yet what is so ridiculous as 
 age? I make this abrupt transition to the mention of 
 , 20 this vice, more than any other, in order to introduce 
 a little story, which I think a pretty instance that 
 the most polite age is in danger of being the most 
 vicious. 
 
 " It happened at Athens, during a public represen- 
 ts tation of some play exhibited in honor of the com- 
 
IV] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 21 
 
 monwealth, that an old gentleman came too late for a 
 place suitable to his age and quality. Many of the 
 young gentlemen, who observed the difficulty and con- 
 fusion he was in, made signs to him that they would 
 accommodate him if he came where they sat. The good 5 
 man bustled through the crowd accordingly ; but when 
 he came to the seats to which he was invited, the jest 
 was to sit close and expose him, as he stood, out of 
 countenance, to the whole audience. The frolic went 
 round all the Athenian benches. But on those occa- lo 
 sions there were also particular places assigned for 
 foreigners. When the good man skulked towards the 
 boxes appointed for the Lacedaemonians, that honest 
 people, more virtuous than polite, rose up all to a 
 man, and with the greatest respect received him 15 
 among them. The Athenians, being suddenly touched 
 with a sense of the Spartan virtue and their own de- 
 generacy, gave a thunder of applause; and the old 
 man cried out, ^The Athenians understand what is 
 good, but the Lacedaemonians practise it. ' '^ ^^ 
 
 IV. SIR KOGER AT THE CLUB. 
 
 The club of which I am a member, is very luckily 
 composed of such persons as are engaged in different 
 ways of life, and deputed as it were out of the most 
 
22 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [iv 
 
 conspicuous classes of mankind : by this means I am 
 furnished with the greatest variety of hints and mate- 
 rials, and know everything that passes in the different 
 quarters and divisions, not only of this great city, but 
 
 5 of the whole kingdom. My readers, too, have the 
 satisfaction to find, that there is no rank or degree 
 among them who have not their representative in this 
 club, and that there is always somebody present who 
 will take care of their respective interests, that noth- 
 
 10 ing may be written or published to the prejudice or 
 infringement of their just rights and privileges. 
 
 I last night sat very late in company with this 
 select body of friends, who entertained me with sev- 
 eral remarks which they and others had made upon 
 
 15 these my speculations, as also with the various suc- 
 cess which they had met with among their several 
 ranks and degrees of readers. Will Honeycomb told 
 me, in the softest manner he could, that there were 
 some ladies (but for your comfort, says Will, they are 
 
 20 not those of the most wit) that were offended at the 
 liberties I had taken with the opera and the puppet- 
 show; that some of them were likewise very much 
 surprised, that I should think such serious points as 
 the dress and equipage of persons of quality proper 
 
 25 subjects for raillery. 
 
iv] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 23 
 
 He was going on, when Sir Andrew Ereeport took 
 him up short, and told him, that the papers he hinted 
 at had done great good in the city, and that all their 
 wives and daughters were the better for them; and 
 further added, that the whole city thought themselves 5 
 very much obliged to me for declaring my generous 
 intentions to scourge vice and folly as they appear in 
 a multitude, without condescending to be a publisher 
 of particular intrigues. In short, says Sir Andrew, 
 if you avoid that foolish beaten road of falling upon lo 
 aldermen and citizens, and employ your pen upon 
 the vanity and luxury of courts, your papers must 
 needs be of general use. 
 
 Upon this my friend the Templar told Sir Andrew, 
 that he wondered to hear a man of his sense talk after 15 
 that manner ; that the city had always been the prov- 
 ince° for satire; and that the wits of king Charles's 
 time jested upon nothing else during his whole reign. 
 He then showed, by the examples of Horace, ° Juve- 
 nal, Boileau, and the best writers of every age, that 20 
 the follies of the stage and court had never been ac- 
 counted too sacred for ridicule, how great soever the 
 persons might be that patronized them. But after all, 
 says he, I think your raillery has made too great an 
 excursion, in attacking several persons of the Inns of 25 
 
24 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [iV 
 
 Court; and I do not believe you can show me any 
 precedent for your behavior in that particular. 
 
 My good friend Sir Eoger de Coverley, who had 
 said nothing all this while, began his speech with a 
 5 pish! and told us, that he wondered to see so many 
 men of sense so very serious upon fooleries. "Let 
 our good friend," says he, "attack every one that de- 
 serves it; I would only advise you, Mr. Spectator," 
 applying himself to me, " to take care how you meddle 
 10 with country squires : they are the ornaments of the 
 English nation; men of good heads and sound bodies! 
 and let me tell you, some of them take it ill of you, 
 that you mention fox-hunters with so little respect." 
 Captain Sentry spoke very sparingly on this ocea- 
 ns sion. What he said was only to commend my pru- 
 dence in not touching upon the army, and advised me 
 to continue to act discreetly in that point. 
 
 By this time I found every subject of my specula- 
 tions was taken away from me, by one or other of the 
 20 club; and began to think myself in the condition of 
 the good man that had one wife who took a dislike to 
 his gray hairs, and another to his black, till by their 
 .picking out what each of them had an aversion to, 
 they left his head altogether bald and naked. 
 25 While I was thus musing with myself, my worthy 
 
IV] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 25 
 
 friend tlie clergyman, who, very luckily for me, was 
 at the club that night, undertook my cause. He told 
 us, that he wondered any order of persons should think 
 themselves too considerable to be advised ; that it was 
 not quality, but innocence, which exempted men from 5 
 reproof ; that vice and folly ought to be attacked 
 wherever they could be met with, and especially when 
 they were placed in high and conspicuous stations of 
 life. He further added, that my paper would only 
 serve to aggravate the pains of poverty, if it chiefly lo 
 exposed those who are already depressed, and in some 
 measure turned into ridicule, by the meanness of their 
 conditions and circumstances. He afterwards pro- 
 ceeded to take notice of the great use this paper might 
 be to the public, by reprehending those vices which 15 
 are too trivial for the chastisement of the law, and too 
 fantastical for the cognizance of the pulpit. He then 
 advised me to prosecute my undertaking with cheer- 
 fulness, and assured me, that whoever might be dis- 
 pleased with me, I should be approved by all those 20 
 whose praises do honor to the persons on whom they 
 are bestowed. 
 
 The whole club pay a particular deference to the 
 discourse of this gentleman, and are drawn into what 
 he says, as much by the candid and ingenuous manner 25 
 
26 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [iV 
 
 with which he delivers himself, as by the strength of 
 argument and force of reason which he makes use of. 
 Will Honeycomb immediately agreed that what he 
 had said was right; and that for his part, he would 
 
 5 not insist upon the quarter which he had demanded 
 for the ladies. Sir Andrew gave up the city with the 
 same frankness. The Templar would not stand out, 
 and was followed by Sir Eoger and the Captain, who 
 all agreed that I should be at liberty to carry the war 
 
 10 into what quarter I pleased, provided I continued to 
 combat with criminals in a body, and to assault the 
 vice without hurting the person. 
 
 This debate, which was held for the good of man- 
 kind, put me in mind of that which the Roman trium- 
 
 15 virate were formerly engaged in, for their destruction. 
 Every man at first stood hard for his friend, till they 
 found that by this means they should spoil their pro- 
 scription : and at length, making a sacrifice of all their 
 acquaintance and relations, furnished out a very decent 
 
 20 execution. 
 
 Having thus taken my resolution to march on boldly 
 in the cause of virtue and good sense, and to annoy 
 their adversaries in whatever degree or rank of men 
 they may be found, I shall be deaf for the future to 
 
 25 all the remonstrances that shall be made to me on this 
 
V] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 27 
 
 account. If Punch° grow extravagant, I shall repri- 
 mand him very freely; if the stage becomes a nursery 
 of folly and impertinence, I shall not be afraid to 
 animadvert upon it. In short, if I meet with any- 
 thing in city, court, or country, that shocks modesty 5 
 or good manners, I shall use my utmost endeavors 
 to make an example of it. I must^ however, intreat 
 every particular person, who does me the honor to be 
 a reader of this paper, never to think himself, or any 
 one of his friends or enemies, aimed at in what is 10 
 said; for I promise him, never to draw a faulty char- 
 acter which does not fit at least a thousand people, or 
 to publish a single paper that is not written in the 
 spirit of benevolence, and with a love to mankind. 
 
 V. SIR ROGER AT HIS COUNTRY HOUSE. 
 
 Having often received an invitation from my friend 15 
 Sir Eoger de Coverley to pass away a month with him 
 in the country, I last week accompanied him thither, 
 and am settled with him for some time at his country- 
 house, where I intend to form several of my ensuing 
 speculations. Sir Eoger, who is very well acquainted 20 
 with my humor, lets me rise and go to bed when I 
 please, dine at his own table or in my chamber as I 
 think fit, sit still and say nothing without bidding me 
 
28 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [v 
 
 be merry. When the gentlemen of the country come 
 to see him, he only shows me at a distance : as I have 
 been walking in his fields I have observed them steal- 
 ing a sight of me over an hedge, and have heard the 
 
 5 Knight desiring them not to let me see them, for that 
 I hated to be stared at. 
 
 I am the more at ease in Sir Koger's family, be- 
 cause it consists of sober and staid persons ; for, as 
 the Knight is the best master in the world, he seldom 
 
 10 changes his servants ; and as he is beloved by all 
 about him, his servants never care for leaving him ; 
 by this means his domestics are all in years, and 
 grown old with their master. You would take his 
 valet de chambre for his brother, his butler is gray- 
 
 15 headed, his groom is one of the gravest men that I 
 have ever seen, and his coachman has the looks of a 
 privy counsellor. You see the goodness of the master 
 even in the old house-dog, and in a gray pad that is 
 kept in the stable with great care and tenderness, out 
 
 20 of regard to his past services, though he has been use- 
 less for several years. 
 
 I could not but observe with a great deal of pleas- 
 ure, the joy that appeared in the countenances of 
 these ancient domestics upon my friend's arrival at 
 
 25 his country-seat. Some of them could not refrain 
 
V] SIE ROGER BE COVERLET PAPERS 29 
 
 from tears at the sight of their old master ; every one 
 of them pressed forward to do something for him, and 
 seemed discouraged if they were not employed. At 
 the same time the good old Knight, with the mixture 
 of the father and the master of the family, tempered 5 
 the inquiries after his own affairs with several kind 
 questions relating to themselves. This humanity and 
 good-nature engages everybody to him, so that when 
 he is pleasant upon any of them, all his family are in 
 good humor, and none so much as the person whom he lo 
 diverts himself with: on the contrary, if he coughs, 
 or betrays any infirmity of old age, it is easy for a 
 stander-by to observe a secret concern in the looks of 
 all his servants. 
 
 My worthy friend has put me under the particular 15 
 care of his butler, who is a very prudent man, and, as 
 well as the rest of his fellow-servants, wonderfully 
 desirous of pleasing me, because they have often heard 
 their master talk of me as his particular friend. 
 
 My chief companion, when Sir Eoger is diverting 20 
 himself in the woods or the fields, is a very venerable 
 man who is ever with Sir Koger, and has lived at his 
 house in the nature of a chaplain above thirty years. 
 This gentleman is a person of good sense and some 
 learning, of a very regular life and obliging conversa- 25 
 
30 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [v 
 
 tion : he heartily loves Sir Eoger, and knows that he 
 is very much in the old Knight's esteem, so that he 
 lives in the family rather as a relation than a depend- 
 ent. 
 
 5 I have observed in several of my papers that my 
 friend Sir Koger, amidst all his good qualities, is 
 something of an humorist ; and that his virtues as 
 well as imperfections are, as it were, tinged by a cer- 
 tain extravagance, which makes them particularly 
 
 10 hiSy and distinguishes them from those of other men. 
 This cast of mind, as it is generally very innocent in 
 itself, so it renders his conversation highly agreeable, 
 and more delightful than the same degree of sense 
 and virtue would appear in their common and ordi- 
 
 T5 nary colors. As I was walking with him last night, 
 he asked me how I liked the good man w^hom I have 
 just now mentioned, and without staying for my 
 answer told me that he was afraid of being insulted 
 with Latin and Greek at his own table, for which 
 
 20 reason he desired a particular friend of his at the 
 University to find him out a clergyman rather of 
 plain sense than much learning, of good aspect, a clear 
 voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man that 
 understood a little of backgammon. My friend, says 
 
 25 Sir Roger, found me out this gentleman, who, besides 
 
V] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 31 
 
 the endowments required of him, is, they tell me, a 
 good scholar, though he does not show it: I have 
 given him the parsonage of the parish ; and, because I 
 know his value, have settled upon him a good amiiiity 
 for life. If he outlives me, he shall find that he was 5 
 higher in my esteem than perhaps he thinks he is. 
 He has now been with me thirty years, and, though 
 he does not know I have taken notice of it, has never 
 in all that time asked anything of me for himself, 
 though he is every day soliciting me for something in lo 
 behalf of one or other of my tenants, his parishioners. 
 There has not been a lawsuit in the parish since he 
 has lived among them ; if any dispute arises they 
 apply themselves to him for the decision ; if they do 
 not acquiesce in his judgment, which I think never 15 
 happened above once or twice at most, they appeal 
 to me. At his first settling with me I made him a 
 present of all the good sermons° which have been 
 printed in English, and only begged of him that every 
 Sunday he would pronounce one of them in the pulpit. 20 
 Accordingly he has digested them into such a series, 
 that they follow one another naturally, and make a 
 continued system of practical divinity. 
 
 As Sir Roger was going on in his story, the gentle- 
 man we were talking of came up to us j and upon the 25 
 
32 SIB ROGER BE COVERLEY PAPERS [v 
 
 Knight's asking him who preached to-morrow (for it 
 was Saturday night) told us the Bishop of St. Asaph 
 in the morning, and Dr. South in the afternoon. He 
 then showed us his list of preachers for the whole 
 
 5 year, where I saw with a great deal of pleasure Arch- 
 bishop Tillotson, Bishop Saunderson, Dr. Barrow, Dr. 
 Calamy, with several living authors who have pub- 
 lished discourses of practical divinity. I no sooner 
 saw this venerable man in the pulpit, but I very much 
 
 10 approved of my friend's insisting upon the qualifica- 
 tions of a good aspect and a clear voice ; for I was so 
 charmed with the gracefulness of his figure and deliv- 
 ery, as well as with the discourses he pronounced, 
 that I think I never passed any time more to my 
 
 15 satisfaction. A sermon repeated after this manner is 
 like the composition of a poet in the mouth of a grace- 
 ful actor. 
 
 I could heartily wish that more of our country 
 clergy would follow this example; and, instead of 
 
 20 wasting their spirits in laborious compositions of their 
 own, would endeavor after a handsome elocution, and 
 all those other talents that are proper to enforce what 
 has been penned by greater masters. This would not 
 only be more easy to themselves, but more edifying to 
 
 25 the people. 
 
Vl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 33 
 
 VI. THE COVERLET HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 The reception, manner of attendance, undisturbed 
 freedom, and quiet, which I meet with here in the 
 country, has confirmed me in the opinion I always 
 had, that the general corruption of manners in ser- 
 vants is owing to the conduct of masters. The aspect 5 
 of every one in the family carries so much satisfaction 
 that it appears he knows the happy lot which has 
 befallen him in being a member of it. There is 
 one particular which I have seldom seen but at Sir 
 Eoger's ; it is usual in all other places, that servants 10 
 fly from the parts of the house through which their 
 master is passing : on the contrary, here they indus- 
 triously place themselves in his way ; and it is on 
 both sides, as it were, understood as a visit, when the 
 servants appear without calling. This proceeds from 15 
 the humane and equal temper of the man of the 
 house, who also perfectly well knows how to enjoy a 
 great estate with such economy as ever to be much 
 beforehand. This makes his own mind untroubled, 
 and consequently unajjt to vent peevish expressions, 20 
 or give passionate or inconsistent orders to those 
 about him. Thus respect and love go together, and 
 a certain cheerfulness in performance of their duty is 
 
34 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [vi 
 
 the particular distinction of the lower part of this 
 family. When a servant is called before his master, 
 he does not come with an expectation to hear himself 
 rated for some trivial fault, threatened to be stripped, 
 
 5 *or used with any other unbecoming language, which 
 mean masters often give to worthy servants; but it 
 is often to know what road he took that he came so 
 readily back according to order; whether he passed 
 by such a ground; if the old man who rents it is in 
 
 10 good health ; or whether he gave Sir Eoger's love to 
 him, or the like. 
 
 A man who preserves a respect founded on his 
 benevolence to his dependents lives rather like a 
 prince than a master in his family ; his orders are 
 
 15 received as favors, rather than duties ; and the dis- 
 tinction of approaching him is part of the reward for 
 executing what is commanded by him. 
 
 There is another circumstance in which my friend 
 excels in his management, which is the manner of 
 
 20 rewarding his servants : he has ever been of opinion 
 that giving his cast clothes to be worn by valets has 
 a very ill effect upon little minds, and crea'tes a silly 
 sense of equality between the parties, in persons 
 affected only with outward things. I have heard him 
 
 25 often pleasant on this occasion, and describe a young 
 
Vl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 35 
 
 gentleman abusing his man in that coat which a 
 month or two before was the most pleasing distinction 
 he was conscious of in himself. He would turn his 
 discourse still more pleasantly upon the ladies' boun- 
 ties of this kind ; and I have heard him say he knew 5 
 a fine woman, who distributed rewards and punish- 
 ments in giving becoming or unbecoming dresses to 
 her maids. 
 
 But my good friend is above these little instances 
 of good-will, in bestowing only trifles on his servants ; 10 
 a good servant to him is sure of having it in his choice 
 very soon of being no servant at all. As I before 
 observed, he is so good an husband,° and knows so 
 thoroughly that the skill of the purse is the cardinal 
 virtue of this life, — I say, he knows so well that 15 
 frugality is the support of generosity, that he can 
 often spare a large fine when a tenement falls, and 
 give that settlement to a good servant who has a mind 
 to go into the world, or make a stranger pay the fine 
 to that servant, for his more comfortable maintenance, 20 
 if he stays in his service. 
 
 A man of honor and generosity considers it would 
 be miserable to himself to have no will but that of 
 another, though it were of the best person breathing, 
 and for that reason goes on, as fast as he is able, to 25 
 
36 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [vi 
 
 put his servants into independent livelihoods. The 
 greatest part of Sir Eoger's estate is tenanted by per- 
 sons who have served himself or his ancestors. It 
 was to me extremely pleasant to observe the visitants 
 
 5 from several parts to welcome his arrival into the 
 country; and all the difference that I could take 
 notice of between the late servants who came to see 
 him, and those who stayed in the family, was that 
 these latter were looked upon as finer gentlemen and 
 
 10 better courtiers. 
 
 This manumission and placing them in a way of 
 livelihood, I look upon as only what is due to a good 
 servant, which encouragement will make his successor 
 be as diligent, as humble, and as ready as he was. 
 
 15 There is something wonderful in the narrowness of 
 those minds which can be pleased, and be barren of 
 bounty to those who please them. 
 
 One might, on this occasion, recount the sense that 
 great persons in all ages have had of the merit of their 
 
 20 dependents, and the heroic services which men have 
 done their masters in the extremity of their fortunes j 
 and shown to their undone patrons that fortune was 
 all the difference between them ; but as I design this 
 
 ♦ my speculation only as a gentle admonition to thank- 
 
 25 less masters, I shall not go out of the occurrences of 
 
Vl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 37 
 
 common life^ but assert it as a general observation, 
 that I never saw, but in Sir Eoger's family, and one 
 or two more, good servants treated as they ought to 
 be. Sir Eoger's kindness extends to their children's 
 children, and this very morning he sent his coachman's 5 
 grandson to prentice. I shall conclude this paper with 
 an account of a picture in his gallery, where there are 
 many which will deserve my future observation. 
 
 At the very upper end of this handsome structure I 
 saw the portraiture of two young men standing in a lo 
 river, the one naked, the other in a livery. The per- 
 son supported seemed half dead, but still so much 
 alive as to show in his face exquisite joy and love 
 towards the other. I thought the fainting figure 
 resembled my friend Sir Eoger; and looking at the 15 
 butler, who stood by me, for an account of it, he in- 
 formed me that the person in the livery was a servant 
 of Sir Eoger's, who stood on the shore while his mas- 
 ter was swimming, and observing him taken with some 
 sudden illness, and sink under water, jumped in and 20 
 saved him. He told me Sir Eoger took off the dress° 
 he was in as soon as he came home, and by a great 
 bounty at that time, followed by his favor ever since, 
 had made him master of that pretty seat which we 
 saw at a distance as we came to this house. I remem- 25 
 
38 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [vil 
 
 bered, indeed, Sir Eoger said there lived a very worthy 
 gentleman, to whom he was highly obliged, without 
 mentioning anything further. Upon my looking a 
 little dissatisfied at some part of the picture, my 
 attendant informed me that it was against Sir Eoger's 
 will, and at the earnest request of the gentleman him- 
 self, that he was drawn in the habit in which he had 
 saved his master. 
 
 VII. SIR ROGER AND WILL WIMBLE. 
 
 6»^^ 
 
 As I was yesterday morning walking with Sir Eoger 
 10 before his house, a country fellow brought him a huge 
 fish, which, he told him, Mr. William Wimble had 
 caught that very morning ; and that he presented it, with 
 his service to him, and intended to come and dine with 
 him. At the same time he delivered a letter, which my 
 15 friend read to me as soon as the messenger left him. 
 
 '^SiR Eoger,— 
 
 "I desire you to accept of a jack, which is the 
 best I have caught this season. I intend to come 
 and stay with you a week, and see how the perch 
 20 bite in the Black Eiver. I observed with some 
 concern, the last time I saw you upon the bowling- 
 green, that your whip wanted a lash to it; I will 
 
VIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 39 
 
 bring half a dozen with me that I twisted last week, 
 which I hope will serve you all the time you are in 
 the country. I have not been out of the saddle for 
 six days last past^ having been at Eton with Sir John's 
 eldest son. He takes to his learning hugely. 5 
 
 " I am, sir, your humble servant, 
 
 "Will Wimble.'^ 
 
 This extraordinary letter, and message that accom- 
 X3anied it, made me very curious to know the char- 
 acter and quality of the gentleman who sent them, lo 
 which I found to be as follows. Will Wimble is 
 younger brother^ to a baronet, and descended of the 
 ancient family of the Wimbles. He is now between 
 forty and fifty ; but being bred to no business and 
 born to no estate, he generally lives with his elder 15 
 brother as superintendent of his game. He hunts a 
 pack of dogs better than any man in the country, and 
 is very famous for finding out a hare. He is ex- 
 tremely well versed in all the little handicrafts of an 
 idle man : he makes a may-fly° to a miracle, and fur- 20 
 nishes the whole country with angle-rods. As he is 
 a good-natured, officious fellow, and very much es- 
 teemed upon account of his family, he is a welcome 
 guest at every house, and keeps up a good correspon- 
 
40 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [vil 
 
 dence among all the gentlemen about him. He car- 
 ries a tulip-root° in his pocket from one to another, or 
 exchanges a puppy between a couple of friends that 
 live perhaps in the opposite sides of the county. 
 
 5 Will is a particular favorite of all the young heirs, 
 whom he frequently obliges with a net that he has 
 weaved, or a setting-dog that he has made himself. 
 He now and then presents a pair of garters of his own 
 knitting to their mothers or sisters ; and raises a great 
 
 10 deal of mirth among them, by inquiring as often as 
 he meets them how they wear. These gentleman-like 
 manufactures and obliging little humors make Will 
 the darling of the country. 
 
 Sir Eoger was proceeding in the character of him, 
 
 15 when we saw him make up to us with two or three 
 hazel-twigs in his hand, that he had cut in Sir Eoger's 
 woods, as he came through them in his way to the 
 house. I Avas very much pleased to observe on one 
 side the hearty and sincere welcome with which Sir 
 
 20 Eoger received him, and, on the other, the secret joy 
 which his guest discovered at sight of the good old 
 Knight. After the first salutes were over. Will de- 
 sired Sir Eoger to lend him one of his servants to 
 carry a set of shuttlecocks he had with him in a little 
 
 25 box, to a lady that lived about a mile off, to whom it 
 
VIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 41 
 
 seems he had promised such a present for above this 
 half year. Sir Eoger's back was no sooner turned 
 but honest Will began to tell me of a large cock- 
 pheasant that he had sprung in one of the neighbor- 
 ing woods, with two or three other adventures of the 5 
 same nature. Odd and uncommon characters are the 
 game that I look for and most delight in ; for which 
 reason I was as much pleased with the novelty of the 
 person that talked to me, as he could be for his life 
 with the springing of a pheasant, and therefore lis- 10 
 tened to him with more than ordinary attention. 
 
 In the midst of his discourse the bell rung to din- 
 ner, where the gentleman I have been speaking of had 
 the pleasure of seeing the huge jack he had caught 
 served up for the first dish in a most sumptuous 15 
 manner. Upon our sitting down to it he gave us a 
 long account how he had hooked it, played with it, 
 foiled it, and at length drew it out upon the bank, 
 with several other particulars that lasted all the first 
 course. A dish of wild-fowl that came afterwards 20 
 furnished conversation for the rest of the dinner, 
 which concluded with a late invention of Will's for 
 improving the quail-pipe.° 
 
 Upon withdrawing into my room after dinner, I 
 was secretly touched with compassion towards the 25 
 
42 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [vil 
 
 honest gentleman that had dined with us, and could 
 not but consider, with a great deal of concern, how 
 so good an heart and such busy hands were wholly 
 employed in trifles ; that so much humanity should be 
 
 5 so little beneficial to others, and so much industry so 
 little advantageous to himself. The same temper of 
 mind and application to affairs might have recom- 
 mended him to the public esteem, and have raised 
 his fortune in another station of life. What good to 
 
 10 his country or himself might not a trader or mer- 
 chant have done with such useful though ordinary 
 qualifications ? 
 
 Will Wimble's is the case of many a younger 
 brother of a great family, who had rather see their 
 
 15 children starve like gentlemen than thrive in a trade 
 or profession that is beneath their quality. This 
 humor fills several parts of Europe with pride and 
 beggary. It is the happiness of a trading nation, 
 like ours, that the younger sons, though uncapable of 
 
 20 any liberal art or profession, may be placed in such 
 a way of life as may perhaps enable them to vie with 
 the best of their family. Accordingly, we find sev- 
 eral citizens that were launched into the world with 
 narrow fortunes, rising by an honest industry to 
 
 25 greater estates than those of their elder brothers. It 
 
VIIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 43 
 
 is not improbable but Will was formerly tried at 
 divinity, law, or physic ; and that finding his genius 
 did not lie that way, his parents gave him up at 
 length to his own inventions. But certainly, how- 
 ever improper he might have been for studies of a 5 
 higher nature, he was perfectly well turned for the 
 occupations of trade and commerce. As I think this 
 is a point which cannot be too much inculcated, I 
 shall desire my reader to compare what I have here 
 written with what I have said in my twenty-first 10 
 speculation. 
 
 YIII. A SUNDAY AT SIR ROGER'S. 
 
 I AM always very well pleased with a country Sun- 
 day, and think, if keeping holy the seventh day were 
 only a human° institution, it would be the best method 
 that could have been thought of for the polishing and 15 
 civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country peo- 
 ple would soon degenerate into a kind of savages and 
 barbarians, were there not such frequent returns of a 
 stated time, in which the whole village meet together 
 with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, 20 
 to converse with one another upon indifferent subjects, 
 hear their duties explained to them, and join together 
 in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears 
 
44 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [vill 
 
 away the rust of the whole week, not only as it re- 
 freshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as 
 it puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most 
 agreeable forms, and exerting all such qualities as are 
 
 5 apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. A 
 country fellow distinguishes himself as much in the 
 churchyard, as a citizen does upon the ' Change, ° the 
 whole parish politics being generally discussed in that 
 place, either after sermon or before the bell rings. 
 
 10 My friend Sir Eoger, being a good churchman, has 
 beautified the inside of his church with several texts 
 of his own choosing; he has likewise given a hand- 
 some pulpit cloth, and railed in the communion-table 
 at his own expense. He has often told me that, at 
 
 15 his coming to his estate, he found his parishioners 
 very irregular; and that in order to make them kneel 
 and join in the responses, he gave every one of them 
 a hassock and a Common Prayer Book: and at the 
 same time employed an itinerant singing-master, who 
 
 20 goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct 
 them rightly in the tunes of the Psalms ; upon which 
 they now very much value themselves, and indeed 
 outdo most of the country churches that I have ever 
 heard. 
 
 25 As Sir Eoger is landlord to the whole congregation, 
 
VIIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 45 
 
 he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer 
 nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if by chance 
 he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, 
 upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about 
 him, and, if he sees anybody else nodding, either 
 wakes them himself, or sends his servant to them. 
 Several other of the old Knight's particularities break 
 out upon these occasions: sometimes he will be 
 lengthening out a verse in the singing Psalms half a 
 minute after the rest of the congregation have done 
 with it; sometimes, when he is pleased with the 
 matter of his devotion, he pronounces " Amen " three 
 or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes 
 stands up when everybody else is upon their knees, 
 to count the congregation, or see if any of his tenants 
 are missing. 
 
 I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old 
 friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one 
 John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not 
 disturb the congregation. This Johii Matthews it 
 seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at 
 that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. 
 This authority of the Knight, though exerted in that 
 odd manner which accompanies him in all circum- 
 stances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, 
 
46 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [vill 
 
 who are not polite enough to see anything ridiculous 
 in his behavior; besides that the general good sense 
 and worthiness of his character makes his friends 
 observe these little singularities as foils that rather 
 
 5 set off than blemish his good qualities. 
 
 As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes 
 to stir till Sir Eoger is gone out of the church. The 
 Knight walks down from his seat in the chancel be- 
 tween a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing 
 
 10 to him on each side, and every now and then inquires 
 how such an one's wife, or mother, or son, or father 
 do, whom he does not see at church, — which is under- 
 stood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent. 
 The chaplain has often told me, that upon a cate- 
 
 15 chising-day, when Sir Eoger has been pleased with a 
 boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be 
 given him next day for his encouragement, and some- 
 times accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his 
 mother. Sir Eoger has likewise added five pounds a 
 
 20 year to the clerk's place; and that he may encourage 
 the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the 
 church service, has promised, upon the death of the 
 present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it 
 according to merit. 
 
 25 The fair understanding between Sir Eoger and his 
 
VIll] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 47 
 
 chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, 
 is the more remarkable, because the very next village 
 is famous for the differences and contentions that rise 
 between the parson and the squire, who live in a per- 
 petual state of war. The parson is always preaching 5 
 at the squire, and the squire, to be revenged on the 
 parson, never comes to church. The squire has made 
 all his tenants atheists and tithe-stealers ; while the 
 parson instructs them every Sunday in the dignity of 
 his order, and insinuates to them in almost every ser- 10 
 mon that he is a better man than his patron. In 
 short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the 
 squire has not said his prayers either in public or 
 private this half year ; and that the parson threatens 
 him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for 15 
 him in the face of the whole congregation. 
 
 Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the 
 country, are very fatal to the ordinary people ; who 
 are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay 
 as much deference to the understanding of a man of 20 
 an estate as of a man of learning; and are very hardly 
 brought to regard any truth, how important soever it 
 may be, that is preached to them, when they know 
 there are several men of five hundred a year who do 
 not believe it. ^5 
 
48 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [iX 
 
 IX. SIR ROGER AND THE WIDOW. 
 
 In my first description of the company in which I 
 pass most of my time, it may be remembered that I 
 mentioned a great affliction which my friend Sir Eoger 
 had met with in his youth : which was no less than a 
 
 5 disappointment in love. It happened this evening 
 that we fell into a very pleasing walk at a distance 
 from his house; as soon as we came into it, "It is," 
 quoth the good old man, looking round him with a 
 smile, " very hard, that any part of my land should 
 
 lo be settled upon one who has used me so ill as the 
 perverse Widow did; and yet I am sure I could not 
 see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, 
 but I should reflect upon her and her severity. She 
 has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the 
 
 15 world. You are to know this was the place wherein 
 I used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can 
 never come into it, but the same tender sentiments 
 revive in my mind as if I had actually walked with 
 that beautiful creature under these shades. I have 
 
 20 been fool enough to carve° her name on the bark of 
 several of these trees ; so unhappy is the condition of 
 men in love to attempt the removing of their passion 
 by the methods which serve only to imprint it deeper. 
 
ix] SIB ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 49 
 
 She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in 
 the world." 
 
 Here followed a profound silence; and I was not 
 displeased to observe my friend falling so naturally 
 into a discourse which I had ever before taken notice 5 
 he industriously avoided. After a very long pause 
 he entered upon an account of this great circumstance 
 in his life, with an air which I thought raised my 
 idea of him above what I had ever had before; and 
 gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his, 10 
 before it received that stroke which has ever since 
 affected his words and actions. But he went on as 
 follows : — 
 
 " I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, 
 and resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of 15 
 my ancestors who have inhabited this spot of earth 
 before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good 
 neighborhood, for the sake of my fame, and in country 
 sports and recreations, for the sake of ray health. In 
 my twenty-third year I was obliged to serve as sheriff 20 
 of the county ; and in my servants, officers, and whole 
 equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man (who 
 did not think ill of his own person) in taking that 
 public occasion of showing my figure and behavior to 
 advantage. You may easily imagine to yourself what 25 
 
50 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [ix 
 
 appearance I made, who am pretty tall, rid well, and 
 was very well dressed, at the head of a whole county, 
 with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my 
 horse well bitted. I can assure you I was not a little 
 
 5 pleased with the kind looks and glances I had from 
 all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall 
 where the assizes were held. But when I came there, 
 a beautiful creature in a widow's habit sat in court, 
 to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. 
 
 10 This commanding creature (who was born for destruc- 
 tion of all who behold her) put on such a resignation 
 in her countenance, and bore the whispers of all around 
 the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I warrant 
 you, and then recovered herself from one eye to 
 
 15 another, till she was perfectly confused by meeting 
 something so wistful in all she encountered, that at 
 last, with a murrain to her, she cast her bewitching 
 eye upon me. I no sooner met it but I bowed like a 
 great surprised booby ; and knowing her cause to be 
 
 20 the first which came on, I cried, like a captivated calf 
 as I was, 'Make way for the defendant's witnesses.' 
 This sudden partiality made all the county immedi- 
 ately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the 
 fine widow. During the time her cause was upon 
 
 25 trial, she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such 
 
ix] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 51 
 
 a deep attention to her business, took opportunities 
 to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would 
 be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned, you must 
 know, by acting before so much company, that not 
 only I but the whole court was prejudiced in her 5 
 favor ; and all that the next heir to her husband had 
 to urge was thought so groundless and frivolous, that 
 when it came to her counsel to reply, there was not 
 half so much said as every one besides in the court 
 thought he could have urged to her advantage. You 10 
 must understand, sir, this perverse woman is one of 
 those unaccountable creatures, that secretly rejoice in 
 the admiration of men, but indulge themselves in no 
 further consequences. Hence it is that she has ever 
 had a train of admirers, and she removes from her 15 
 slaves in town to those in the country, according to 
 the seasons of the year. She is a reading lady, and 
 far gone in the pleasures of friendship : she is always 
 accompanied by a confidant, who is witness to her 
 daily protestations against our sex, and consequently 20 
 a bar to her first steps towards love, upon the strength 
 of her own maxims and declarations. 
 
 " However, I must needs say this accomplished mis- 
 tress of mine has distinguished me above the rest, and 
 has been known to declare Sir Eoger de Coverley was 25 
 
52 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [ix 
 
 the tamest and most human of all the brutes in the 
 country. I was told she said so by one who thought 
 he rallied me; but upon the strength of this slender 
 encouragement of being thought least detestable, I 
 
 5 made new liveries, new-paired my coach-horses, sent 
 them all to town to be bitted, and taught to throw 
 their legs well, and move all together, before I pre- 
 tended to cross the country and wait upon her. As 
 soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the character 
 
 10 of my fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make 
 my addresses. The particular skill of this lady has 
 ever been to inflame your wishes, and yet command 
 respect. To make her mistress of this art, she has a 
 greater share of knowledge, wit, and good sense than 
 
 15 is usual even among men of merit. Then she is 
 beautiful beyond the race of women. If you won't let 
 her go on with a certain artifice with her eyes, and 
 the skill of beauty, she will arm herself with her real 
 charms, and strike you with admiration. It is certain 
 
 20 that if you were to behold the whole woman, there is 
 that dignity in her aspect, that composure in her 
 motion, that complacency in her manner, that if her 
 form makes you hope, her merit makes you fear. But 
 then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no 
 
 25 country gentleman can approach her without being a 
 
ix] SIR ROGER BE COVERLEY PAPERS 53 
 
 jest. As I was going to tell you, when I came to her 
 house I was admitted to her presence with great civil- 
 ity; at the same time she placed herself to be first 
 seen by me in such an attitude, as I think you call 
 the posture of a picture, that she discovered new 5 
 charms, and I at last came towards her with such an 
 awe as made me speechless. This she no sooner ob- 
 served but she made her advantage of it, and began a 
 discourse to me concerning love and honor, as they 
 both are followed by pretenders, and the real votaries lo 
 to them. When she had discussed these points in a 
 discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as 
 the best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, 
 she asked me whether she was so happy as to fall in 
 with my sentiments on these important particulars. 15 
 Her confidant sat by her, and upon my being in the 
 last confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers 
 turning to her says, *I am very glad to observe Sir 
 Eoger pauses upon this subject, and seems resolved 
 to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when he 20 
 pleases to speak. ' They both kept their countenances, 
 and after I had sat half an hour meditating how to 
 behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and 
 took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown 
 me very often in her way, and she as often has directed 25 
 
54 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [ix 
 
 a discourse to me which I do not understand. This 
 barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most 
 beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also 
 she deals with all mankind, and you must make love 
 
 5 to her, as you would conquer the sphinx, by posing 
 her. But were she like other women, and that there 
 were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure 
 of that man be, who could converse with a creature — 
 But, after all, you may be sure her heart is fixed on 
 
 10 some one or other; and yet I have been credibly in- 
 formed — but who can believe half that is said ? 
 After she had done speaking to me, she put her hand 
 to her bosom and adjusted her tucker. Then she cast 
 her eyes a little down, upon my beholding her too 
 
 15 earnestly. They say she sings excellently ; her voice 
 in her ordinary speech has something in it inexpressi- 
 bly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a 
 public table the day after I first saw her, and she 
 helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentle- 
 
 20 men in the country : she has certainly the finest hand 
 of any woman in the world. I can assure you, sir, 
 were you to behold her, you would be in the same 
 condition; for as her speech is music, her form is 
 angelic. But I find I grow irregular while I am talk- 
 
 25 ing of her; but indeed it would be stupidity to be 
 
IX] sin nOGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 55 
 
 unconcerned at such perfection. Oh the excellent 
 creature ! she is as inimitable to all women as she is 
 inaccessible to all men." 
 
 I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led 
 him towards the house, that we might be joined by 5 
 some other company^ and am convinced that the 
 Widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency 
 which appears in some parts of my friend's discourse; 
 though he has so much command of himself as not 
 directly to mention her, yet according to that [passage] 10 
 of Martial, ° which one knows not how to render in 
 English, Dum tacet Jianc loquitur. ° I shall end this 
 paper with that whole epigram, which represents with 
 much humor my honest friend's condition. 
 
 Quicquid agit Rufus, nihil est, nisi Nsevia Rufo, 15 
 
 Si gaiidet, si flet, si tacet, hanc loquitur : 
 
 Coenat, propinat, poscit, negat, annuit, una est 
 Nsevia ; si non sit Nsevia, mutus erit. 
 
 Scriberet hesterna patri cum luce salutem, 
 Nsevia lux, inquit, Nsevia lumen, ave. 20 
 
 Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk, 
 
 Still he can nothing but of Nsevia talk ; 
 
 Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute, 
 
 Still he must speak of Nsevia, or be mute ; 
 
 He writ to his father, ending with this line, 
 
 " I am, my lovely Nsevia, ever thine." 25 
 
56 SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [x 
 
 X. BODILY EXERCISE. 
 
 Bodily labor is of two kinds, either that which a 
 man submits to for his livelihood, or that which he 
 undergoes for his pleasure. The latter of them gen- 
 erally changes the name of labor for that of exercise, 
 but differs only from ordinary labor as it rises from 
 another motive. 
 
 A country life abounds in both these kinds of labor, 
 and for that reason gives a man a greater stock of 
 health, and consequently a more perfect enjoyment of 
 himself, than any other way of life. I consider the 
 body as a system of tubes and glands, or, to use a 
 more rustic phrase, a bundle of pipes and strainers, 
 fitted to one another after so wonderful a manner as 
 to make a proper engine for the soul to work with. 
 This description does not only comprehend the bowels, 
 bones, tendons, veins, nerves, and arteries, but every 
 muscle and every ligature, which is a composition of 
 fibres, that are so many imperceptible tubes or pipes 
 interwoven on all sides with invisible glands or 
 ' strainers. 
 
 This general idea of a human body, without con- 
 sidering it in its niceties of anatomy, lets us see how 
 absolutely necessary labor is for the right preservation 
 
X] SIR ROGER BE COVERLEY PAPERS 57 
 
 of it. There must be frequent motions and agitations, 
 to mix, digest, and separate the juices "contained in it, 
 as well as to clear and cleanse that infinitude of pipes 
 and strainers of which it is composed, and to give 
 their solid parts a more firm and lasting tone. Labor 5 
 or- exercise ferments the humors, casts them into their 
 proper channels, throws off redundancies, and helps 
 nature in those secret distributions, without which the 
 body cannot subsist in its vigor, nor the soul act with 
 cheerfulness. lo 
 
 I might here mention the effects which this has 
 upon all the faculties of the mind, by keeping the 
 understanding clear, the imagination untroubled, and 
 refining those spirits that are necessary for the proper 
 exertion of our intellectual faculties, during the pres- 15 
 ent laws of union between soul and body. It is to a 
 neglect in this particular that we must ascribe the 
 spleen which is so frequent in men of studious and 
 sedentary tempers, as well as the vapors to which 
 those of the other sex are so often subject. 20 
 
 Had not exercise been absolutely necessitry for our 
 well-being, nature would not have made the body so 
 proper for it, by giving such an activity to the limbs, and 
 such a pliancy to every part as necessarily produce those 
 compressions, extensions, contortions, dilatations, and 25 
 
58 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [x 
 
 all other kinds of motions that are necessary for the 
 preservation of such a system of tubes and glands as 
 has been before mentioned. And that we might not 
 want inducements to engage us in such an exercise of 
 
 5 the body as is proper for its welfare, it is so ordered 
 that nothing valuable can be procured without it. 
 Not to mention riches and honor, even food and rai- 
 ment are not to be come at without the toil of the 
 hands and sweat of the brows. Providence fur- 
 
 10 nishes materials, but expects that we should work 
 them up ourselves. The earth must be labored be- 
 fore it gives its increase, and when it is forced into 
 its several products, how many hands must they pass 
 through before they are fit for use ! Manufactures, 
 
 1 5 trade, and agriculture naturally employ more than 
 nineteen parts of the species in twenty : and as for 
 those who are not obliged to labor, by the condition 
 in which they are born, they are more miserable than 
 the rest of mankind unless they indulge themselves in 
 
 20 that voluntary labor which goes by the name of exercise. 
 
 My friend Sir Eoger has been an indefatigable man 
 
 in business of this kind, and has hung several parts of 
 
 his house with the trophies of his former labors. The 
 
 walls of his great hall are covered with the horns of 
 
 25 several kinds of deer that he has killed in the chase, 
 
X] SIR ROGER BE COVE RLE Y PAPERS 59 
 
 which he thinks the most valuable furniture of his 
 house, as they afford him frequent topics of discourse, 
 and show that he has not been idle. At the lower 
 end of the hall is a large otter's skin stuffed with hay, 
 which his mother ordered to be hung up in that man- 5 
 ner, and the Knight looks upon with great satisfaction, 
 because it seems he was but nine years old when his 
 dog killed him. A little room adjoining to the hall is 
 a kind of arsenal filled with guns of several sizes and 
 inventions, with which the Knight has made great lo 
 havoc in the woods, and destroyed many thousands of 
 pheasants, partridges, and woodcocks. His stable 
 doors are patched with noses that belonged to foxes 
 of the Knight's own hunting down. Sir Eoger showed 
 me one of them that for distinction's sake has a brass 15 
 nail struck through it, which cost him about fifteen 
 hours' riding, carried him through half a dozen coun- 
 ties, killed him a brace of geldings, and lost about half 
 his dogs. This the Knight looks upon as one of the 
 greatest exploits of his life. The perverse Widow, 20 
 whom I have given some account of, was the death of 
 several foxes ; for Sir Roger has told me that in the 
 course of his amours he patched the western door of 
 his stable. Whenever the Widow was cruel, the foxes 
 were sure to pay for it. In proportion as his passion 25 
 
60 SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [x 
 
 for the Widow abated and old age came on, he left off 
 fox-hunting ; but a hare is not yet safe that sits within 
 ten miles of his house. 
 
 There is no kind of exercise which I would so 
 
 5 recommend to my readers of both sexes as this of 
 riding, as there is none which so much conduces to 
 health, and is every way accommodated to the body, 
 according to the idea which I have given of it. Doc- 
 tor Sydenham is very lavish in its praises ; and if the 
 
 10 English reader will see the mechanical effects of it 
 described at length, he may find them in a book pub- 
 lished not many years since under the title of Medi- 
 cina Gymiiastica. For my own part, when I am in 
 town, for want of these opportunities, I exercise my- 
 
 15 self an hour every morning upon a dumb-bell that 
 is placed in a corner of my room, and pleases me the 
 more because it does everything I require of it in 
 the most profound silence. My landlady and her 
 daughters are so well acquainted with my hours of 
 
 20 exercise, that they never come into my room to dis- 
 turb me whilst I am ringing. 
 
 When I was some years younger than I am at 
 present, I used to employ myself in a more laborious 
 diversion, which I learned from a Latin treatise of ex- 
 
 25 ercises that is written with great erudition ; it is there 
 
Xl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 61 
 
 called the o-/cto/xaxta, or the fighting with a man's own 
 shadow, and consists in the brandishing of two short 
 sticks grasped in each hand, and loaden with plugs of 
 lead at either end. This opens the chest, exercises 
 the limbs, and gives a man all the pleasure of boxing, 5 
 without the blows. I could wish that several learned 
 men would lay out that time which they employ in 
 controversies and disputes about nothing, in this 
 method of fighting with their own shadows. It might 
 conduce very much to evaporate the spleen, which to 
 makes them uneasy to the public as well as to 
 themselves. 
 
 To conclude : As I am a compound of soul and 
 body, I consider myself as obliged to a double scheme 
 of duties ; and I think I have not fulfilled the busi- 15 
 ness of the day when I do not thus employ the one 
 in labor and exercise, as well as the other in study and 
 contemplation. 
 
 XI. THE COVERLET HUNT. 
 
 Those who have searched into human nature ob- 
 serve, that nothing so much shows the nobleness of 20 
 the soul, as that its felicity consists in action. Every 
 man has such an active principle in him, that he will 
 find out something to employ himself upon, in what- 
 
62 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [xi 
 
 ever place or state of life he is posted. I have heard 
 of a gentleman who was under close confinement in 
 the Bastile° seven years ; during which time he amused 
 himself in scattering a few small pins about his 
 
 5 chamber, gathering them up again, and placing them 
 in different figures on the arm of a great chair. He 
 often told his friends afterwards, that unless he had 
 found out this piece of exercise, he verily believed he 
 should have lost his senses. 
 
 10 After w^hat has been said, I need not inform my 
 readers, that Sir Eoger, with whose character I hope 
 they are at present pretty well acquainted, has in his 
 youth gone through the whole course of those rural 
 diversions which the country abounds in ; and which 
 
 15 seem to be extremely well suited to that laborious 
 industry a man may observe here in a far greater 
 degree than in towns and cities. I have before hinted 
 at some of my friend's exploits : he has in his youthful 
 days taken forty coveys of partridges in a season ; and 
 
 20 tired many a salmon with a line consisting but of a 
 single hair. Tlie constant thanks and good wishes of 
 the neighborhood always attended him on account 
 of his remarkable enmity towards foxes ; having 
 destroyed more of those vermin in one year than it 
 
 25 was thought the whole country could have produced. 
 
Xl] SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 63 
 
 Indeed, the Knight does not scruple to own among his 
 most intimate friends, that in order to establish his 
 reputation this way, he has secretly sent for great 
 numbers of them out of other counties, which he used 
 to turn loose about the country by night, that he 5 
 might the better signalize himself in their destruction 
 the next day. His hunting horses were the finest and 
 best managed in all these parts : his tenants are still 
 full of the praises of a gray stone horse that unhap- 
 pily staked himself several years since, and was buried lo 
 with great solemnity in the orchard. 
 
 Sir Koger, being at present too old for fox-hunting, 
 to keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles 
 and got a pack of stop-hounds. What these want in 
 speed he endeavors to make amends for by the deep- 15 
 ness of their mouths and the variety of their notes, 
 which are suited in such manner to each other that 
 the whole cry makes up a complete concert. He is so 
 nice in this particular, that a gentleman having made 
 him a present of a very fine hound the other day, the 20 
 Knight returned it by the servant with a great many 
 expressions of civility ; but desired him to tell his 
 master that the dog he had sent was indeed a most 
 excellent base, but that at present he only wanted a 
 counter-tenor. Could I believe my friend had ever 25 
 
64 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xi 
 
 read Shakespeare I should certainly conclude he had 
 taken the hint from Theseus in the Midsummer 
 Mght's Dream: — 
 
 My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, 
 5 So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung 
 
 With ears that sweep away the morning dew; 
 
 Crook-knee'd and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls; 
 
 Slow in pursuit, but match' d in mouth like bells, 
 
 Each under each : a cry more tuneable 
 10 Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn. 
 
 Sir Eoger is so keen at this sport that he has been 
 out almost every day since I came down; and upon 
 the chaplain's offering to lend me his easy pad, I was 
 prevailed on yesterday morning to make one of the 
 
 15 company. I was extremely pleased, as we rid along, 
 to observe the general benevolence of all the neighbor- 
 hood towards my friend. The farmers' sons thought 
 themselves happy if they could open a gate for the 
 good old Knight as he passed by ; which he generally 
 
 20 requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind inquiry 
 after their fathers and uncles. 
 
 After we had rid about a mile from home, we came 
 upon a large heath, and the sportsmen began to beat. 
 They had done so for some time, when, as I was at a 
 
 25 little distance from the rest of the company, I saw 
 
Xl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 65 
 
 a hare pop out from a small furze-brake almost under 
 my horse's feet. I marked the way she took, which I 
 endeavored to make the company sensible of by ex- 
 tending my arm; but to no purpose, till Sir Eoger, 
 who knows that none of my extraordinary motions are 5 
 insignificant, rode up to me, and asked me if puss was 
 gone that way. Upon my answering " Yes," he im- 
 mediately called in the dogs and put them upon the 
 scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the 
 country-fellows muttering to his companion that lo 
 'twas a w^onder they had not lost all their sport, for 
 want of the silent gentleman's crying " Stole aw^ay ! " 
 This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me 
 withdraw to a rising ground, from whence I could 
 have the picture of the whole chase, without the 15 
 fatigue of keeping in with the hounds. The hare 
 immediately threw them above a mile behind her; 
 but I was pleased to find that instead of running 
 straight forwards, or in hunter's language, " flying the 
 country," as I was afraid she might have done, she 20 
 wheeled about, and described a sort of circle round 
 the hill where I had taken my station, in such manner 
 as gave me a very distinct view of the sport. I could 
 see her first pass by, and the dogs some time after- 
 wards unravelling the whole track she had made, and 25 
 
66 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [xi 
 
 following her through all her doubles. I was at the 
 same time delighted in observing that deference which 
 the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, 
 according to the character he had acquired amongst 
 
 5 them : if they were at fault, and an old hound of 
 reputation opened but once, he was immediately fol- 
 lowed by the whole cry ; while a raw dog, or one who 
 was a noted liar, might have yelped his heart out, 
 without being taken notice of. 
 
 10 The hare now, after having squatted two or three 
 times, and been put up again as often, came still nearer 
 to the place where she was at first started. The dogs 
 pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly 
 Knight,' who rode upon a white gelding, encompassed 
 
 15 by his tenants and servants, and cheering his hounds 
 with all the gaiety of five-and-twenty. One of the 
 sportsmen rode up to me, and told me that he was 
 sure the chase was almost at an end, because the old 
 dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the 
 
 20 pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a 
 large field just under us, followed by the full cry, " In 
 view." I must confess the brightness of the weather, 
 the cheerfulness of everything around me, the chiding 
 of the hounds, which was returned upon us in a double 
 
 25 echo from two neighboring hills, with the holloaing of 
 
Xl] SIM ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 67 
 
 the sportsmen^ and the sounding of the horn, lifted 
 my spirits into a most lively pleasure, which I freely 
 indulged because I was sure it was innocent. If I was 
 under any concern, it was on the account of the poor 
 hare, that was now quite spent, and almost within the 5 
 reach of her enemies; when the huntsman, getting 
 forward, threw down his pole before the dogs. They 
 were now within eight yards of that game which they 
 had been pursuing for almost as many hours ; yet on 
 the signal before-mentioned they all made a sudden lo 
 stand, and though they continued opening as much as 
 before, durst not once attempt to pass beyond the 
 pole. At the same time Sir Eoger rode forward, and 
 alighting, took up the hare in his arms ; which he 
 soon delivered up to one of his servants with an 15 
 order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in his 
 great orchard ; where it seems he has several of these 
 prisoners of war, who live together in a very comfort- 
 able captivity. I was highly pleased to see the disci- 
 pline of the pack, and the good nature of the Knight, 20 
 who could not find in his heart to murder a. creature 
 that had given him so much diversion. 
 
 As we were returning home, I remembered that 
 Monsieur Pascal,° in his most excellent discourse on 
 the Misery of Man, tells us, that all our endeavors 25 
 
68 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xi 
 
 after greatness proceed from nothing but a desire of 
 being surrounded by a multitude of persons and 
 affairs that may hinder us from looking into our- 
 selves, which is a view we cannot bear. He after- 
 
 5 wards goes on to show that our love of sports comes 
 from the same reason, and is particularly severe upon 
 hunting. "What/' says he, "unless it be to drown 
 thought, can make men throw away so much time 
 and pains upon a silly animal, which they might buy 
 
 10 cheaper in the market ? '' The foregoing reflection is 
 certainly just, when a man suffers his whole mind to 
 be drawn into his sports, and altogether loses himself 
 in the woods ; but does not affect those who propose 
 a far more laudable end for this exercise, I mean 
 
 15 the preservation of health, and keeping all the organs 
 of the soul in a condition to execute her orders. Had 
 that incomparable person, whom I last quoted, been a 
 little more indulgent to himself in this point, the 
 world might probably have enjoyed him much longer ; 
 
 20 whereas through too great an application to his studies 
 in his youth, he contracted that ill habit of body, 
 which, after a tedious sickness, carried him off in the 
 fortieth year of his age ; and the whole history we 
 have of his life till that time is but one continued 
 
 25 account of the behavior of a noble soul struggling 
 under innumerable pains and distempers. 
 
XIl] SIM ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 69 
 
 For my own part I intend to hunt twice a week 
 during my stay with Sir Eoger; and shall prescribe 
 the moderate use of this exercise to all my country 
 friends, as the best kind of physic for mending a bad 
 constitution, and preserving a good one. 
 
 I cannot do this better, than in the following lines 
 out of Mr. Dryden: — 
 
 The first physicians by debauch were made ; 
 Excess began, and sloth sustained the trade. 
 By chase our long-lived fathers earned their food ; 
 Toil strung the nerves, and purified the blood ; 
 But we their sons, a pamper'd race of men. 
 Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. 
 Better to hunt in fields for health unbought 
 Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. 
 The wise for cure on exercise depend : 
 God never made His work for man to mend. 
 
 XIL THE COVEELEY WITCH. ° 
 
 There are some opinions in which a man should 
 stand neuter, without engaging his assent tc one side 
 or the other. Such a hovering faith as this, which 20 
 refuses to settle upon any determination, is absolutely 
 necessary to a mind that is careful to avoid errors and 
 prepossessions. When the arguments press equally 
 
70 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xil 
 
 on both sides in matters that are indifferent to us, 
 the safest method is to give up ourselves to 
 neither. 
 
 It is with this temper of mind that I consider the 
 
 5 subject of witchcraft. ° When I hear the relations 
 that are made from all parts of the world, not only 
 from Norway and Lapland, from the East and West 
 Indies, but from every particular nation in Europe, 
 I cannot forbear thinking that there is such an inter- 
 
 10 course and commerce with evil spirits as that which 
 we express by the name of witchcraft. But when I 
 consider that the ignorant and credulous parts of the 
 world abound most in these relations, and that the 
 persons among us who are supposed to engage in such 
 
 15 an infernal commerce are people of a weak under- 
 standing and a crazed imagination, and at the same 
 time reflect upon the many impostures and delusions 
 of this nature that have been detected in all ages, I 
 endeavor to suspend my belief till I hear more certain 
 
 20 accounts than any which have yet come to my knowl- 
 edge. In short, when I consider the question, whether 
 there are such persons in the world as those we call 
 witches, my mind is divided between the two oppo- 
 site opinions : or rather (to speak my thoughts freely) 
 
 25 I believe in general that there is, and has been, such 
 
XIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 71 
 
 a thing as witchcraft; but at the same time can give 
 no credit to any particular instance of it. 
 
 I am engaged in this speculation by some occur- 
 rences that I met with yesterday, which I shall give 
 my reader an account of at large. As I was walking 5 
 with my friend Sir Eoger by the side of one of his 
 woods, an old woman applied herself to me for my 
 charity. Her dress and figure put me in mind of the 
 following description in Otway: — 
 
 In a close lane as I pursued my journey, lo 
 
 I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown double. 
 Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself. 
 Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall'd and red ; 
 Cold palsy shook her head ; her hands seem'd withered ; 
 And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapp'd 15 
 
 The tatter' d remnants of an old striped hanging, 
 Which served to keep her carcase from the cold : 
 So there was nothing of a piece about her. 
 Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patch'd 
 With diff' rent color'd rags, black, red, white, yellow, 20 
 
 And seem'd to speak variety of wretchedness. 
 
 As I was musing on this description, and comparing 
 it with the object before me, the Knight told me that 
 this very old woman had the reputation of a witch all 
 over the country, that her lips were observed to be 25 
 always in motion, and that there was not a switch 
 
72 SIR ROGER BE COVERLEY PAPERS [xil 
 
 about her house which her neighbors did not believe 
 had carried her several hundreds of miles. If she 
 chanced to stumble, they always found sticks or 
 straws that lay in the figure of a cross before her. If 
 
 5 she made any mistake at church, and cried Ameyi in 
 a wrong place, they never failed to conclude that she 
 was saying her prayers backwards. There was not a 
 maid in the parish that would take a pin of her, 
 though she would offer a bag of money with it. She 
 
 10 goes by the name of Moll White, and has made the 
 country ring with several imaginary exploits which 
 are palmed upon her. If the dairy maid does not 
 make her butter come so soon as she should have it, 
 Moll White is at the bottom of the churn. If a horse 
 
 15 sweats in the stable, Moll White has been upon his 
 back. If a hare makes an unexpected escape from the 
 hounds, the huntsman curses Moll White. "Nay," 
 says Sir Koger, " I have known the master of the pack, 
 upon such an occasion, send one of his servants to see 
 
 20 if Moll White had been out that morning." 
 
 This account raised my curiosity so far, that I 
 begged my friend Sir Eoger to go with me into her 
 hovel, which stood in a solitary corner under the side 
 of the wood. Upon our first entering Sir Eoger 
 
 25 winked to me, and pointed at something that stood 
 
XIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 73 
 
 behind the door, which, upon looking that way, I 
 found to be an old broomstaff. At the same time he 
 whispered me in the ear to take notice of a tabby cat 
 that sat in the chimney-corner, which, as the old 
 Knight told me, lay under as bad a report as Moll 5 
 White herself; for besides that Moll is said often to 
 accompany her in the same shape, the cat is reported 
 to have spoken twice or thrice in her life, and to have 
 played several pranks above the capacity of an ordinary 
 cat. 10 
 
 I was secretly concerned to see human nature in so 
 much wretchedness and disgrace, but at the same time 
 could not forbear smiling to hear Sir Eoger, who is 
 a little puzzled about the old woman, advising her as 
 a Justice of Peace to avoid all communication with the 15 
 devil, and never to hurt any of her neighbors' cattle. 
 We concluded our visit with a bounty, which was very 
 acceptable. 
 
 In our return home, Sir Eoger told me that old Moll 
 had been often brought before him for making chil- 20 
 dren spit pins, and giving maids the nightmare; and 
 that the country people would be tossing her into a 
 pond and trying experiments with her every day, if 
 it was not for him and his chaplain. 
 
 I have since found upon inquiry that Sir Eoger was 25 
 
74 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xill 
 
 several times staggered with the reports that had been- 
 brought him concerning this old woman, and would 
 frequently have bound her over to the county sessions 
 had not his chaplain, with much ado, persuaded him to 
 
 5 the contrary. 
 
 I have been the more particular in this account, 
 because I hear there is scarce a village in England 
 that has not a Moll White in it. When an old woman 
 begins to dote, and grow chargeable to a parish, she 
 
 10 is generally turned into a witch, and fills the whole 
 country with extravagant fancies, imaginary distem- 
 pers, and terrifying dreams. In the meantime, the 
 poor wretch that is the innocent occasion of so many 
 evils begins to be frighted at herself, and sometimes 
 
 15 confesses secret commerce and familiarities that her 
 imagination forms in a delirious old age. This fre- 
 quently cuts off charity from the greatest objects of 
 compassion, and inspires people with a malevolence 
 towards those poor decrepit parts of our species, in 
 
 20 whom human nature is defaced by infirmity and dotage. 
 
 XIII. SIR ROGER'S DISCOURSE ON LOVE. 
 
 This agreeable seat is surrounded with so many 
 pleasing walks which are struck out of a wood in the 
 midst of which the house stands, that one can hardly 
 
XIIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 75 
 
 ever be weary of rambling from one labyrinth of de- 
 light to another. To one used to live in a city the 
 charms of the country are so exquisite, that the mind 
 is lost in a certain transport which raises us above ordi- 
 nary life, and is yet not strong enough to be incon- 5 
 sistent with tranquillity. This state of mind was I in, 
 ravished with the murmur of waters, the whisper of 
 breezes, the singing of birds; and whether I looked 
 up to the heavens, down on the earth, or turned to 
 the prospects around me, still struck with new sense lo 
 of pleasure ; when I found by the voice of my friend, 
 who walked by me, that we had insensibly strolled 
 into the grove sacred to the Widow. "This woman," 
 says he, " is of all others the most unintelligible ; she 
 either designs to marry, or she does not. What is 15 
 the most perplexing of all is, that she doth not either 
 say to her lovers she has any resolution against that 
 condition of life in general, or that she banishes them ; 
 but conscious of her own merit, she permits their ad- 
 dresses without fear of any ill consequence, or want 20 
 of respect, from their rage or despair. She has that 
 in her aspect against which it is impossible to offend. 
 A man whose thoughts are constantly bent upon so 
 agreeable an object, must be excused if the ordinary 
 occurrences in conversation are below his attention. 25 
 
76 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xill 
 
 I call her indeed perverse, but, alas ! why do I call her 
 so? Because her superior merit is such, that I cannot 
 approach her without awe, that my heart is checked 
 by too much esteem : I am angry that her charms are 
 
 5 not more accessible, that I am more inclined to wor- 
 ship than salute her: how often have I wished her 
 unhappy that I might have an opportunity of serving 
 her? and how often troubled in that very imagination, 
 at giving her the pain of being obliged? Well, I have 
 
 10 led a miserable life in secret upon her account; but 
 fancy she would have condescended to have some re- 
 gard for me, if it had not been for that watchful 
 animal her confidant. 
 
 "Of all persons under the sun," continued he, call- 
 
 15 ing me by my name, " be sure to set a mark upon con- 
 fidants ; they are of all people the most impertinent. 
 What is most pleasant to observe in them is that they 
 assume to themselves the merit of the persons whom 
 they have in their custody. Orestilla is a great for- 
 
 20 tune, and in wonderful danger of surprises, therefore 
 full of suspicions of the least indifferent thing, par- 
 ticularly careful of new acquaintance, and of growing 
 too familiar with the old. Themista, her favorite 
 woman, is every whit as careful of whom she speaks 
 
 25 to, and what she says. Let the ward be a beauty, her 
 
XIIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 77 
 
 confidant shall treat you with an air of distance; let 
 her be a fortune, and she assumes the suspicious be- 
 havior of her friend and patroness. Thus it is that 
 very many of our unmarried women of distinction are 
 to all intents and purposes married, except the con- 5 
 sideration of different sexes. They are directly under 
 the conduct of their whisperer; and think they are in 
 a state of freedom, while they can prate with one of 
 these attendants of all men in general, and still avoid 
 the man they most like. You do not see one heiress lo 
 in an hundred whose fate does not turn upon this cir- 
 cumstance of choosing a confidant. Thus it is that 
 the lady is addressed to, presented and flattered, only 
 by proxy, in her woman. In my case, how is it 
 possible that — " 15 
 
 Sir Eoger was proceeding in his harangue, when we 
 heard the voice of one speaking very importunately, 
 and repeating these words, "What, not one smile?" 
 We followed the sound till we came to a close thicket, 
 on the other side of which we saw a young woman 20 
 sitting as it were in a personated sullenness just over 
 a transparent fountain. Opposite to her stood Mr. 
 William, Sir Eoger's master of the game. The Knight 
 whispered me, " Hist, these are lovers." The huntsman 
 looking earnestly at the shadow of the young maiden in 25 
 
78 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xin 
 
 the stream, " thou dear picture, if thou couldst re- 
 main there in the absence of that fair creature whom 
 you represent in the water, how willingly could I stand 
 here satisfied forever, without troubling my dear Betty 
 
 5 herself with any mention of her unfortunate William, 
 whom she is angry with: but alas! when she pleases 
 to be gone, thou wilt also vanish — yet let me talk to 
 thee while thou dost stay. Tell my dearest Betty 
 thou dost not more depend upon her than does her 
 
 10 William : her absence will make away with me as well 
 as thee. If she offers to remove thee, 1^11 jump into 
 these waves to lay hold on thee ; herself, her own dear 
 person, I must never embrace again. — Still do you 
 hear me without one smile — it is too much to bear.'' 
 
 15 He had no sooner spoke these words but he made an 
 offer of throwing himself into the water; at which his 
 mistress started up, and at the next instant he jumped 
 across the fountain and met her in an embrace. She, 
 half recovering from her fright, said in the most 
 
 20 charming voice imaginable and with a tone of com- 
 plaint, " I thought how well you would drown yourself. 
 N'o, no, you won't drown yourself till you have taken 
 your leave of Susan Holliday." The huntsman, with 
 a tenderness that spoke the most passionate love, and 
 
 25 with his cheek close to hers, whispered the softest 
 
XIll] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 79 
 
 VOWS of fidelity in her ear, and cried, "Don't, my 
 dear, believe a word Kate Willow says; she is spite- 
 ful and makes stories, because she loves to hear me 
 talk to herself for your sake." 
 
 "Look you there," quoth Sir Eoger, "do you see 5 
 there, all mischief comes from confidants! But let 
 us not interrupt them; the maid is honest, and the 
 man dares not be otherwise, for he knows I loved her 
 father; I will interpose in this matter, and hasten 
 the wedding. Kate Willow is a witty, mischievous lo 
 wench in the neighborhood, who was a beaut}^; and 
 makes me hope I shall see the perverse Widow in her 
 condition. She was so flippant with her answers to 
 all the honest fellows that came near her, and so very 
 vain of her beauty, that she has valued herself upon 15 
 her charms till they are ceased. She therefore now 
 makes it her business to prevent other young women 
 from being more discreet than she was herself; how- 
 ever, the saucy thing said the other day well enough, 
 *Sir Eoger and I must make a match, for we are both 20 
 despised by those we loved.' The hussy has a great 
 deal of power wherever she comes, and has her share 
 of cunning. 
 
 " However, when I reflect upon this woman, I do 
 not know whether in the main I am the worse for 25 
 
80 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xill 
 
 having loved her; whenever she is recalled to my 
 
 ^ imagination my youth returns, and I feel a forgotten 
 warmth in my veins. This affliction in my life has 
 streaked all my conduct with a softness of which I 
 
 5 should otherwise have been incapable. It is, perhaps, 
 to this dear image in my heart owing, that I am apt 
 to relent, that I easily forgive, and that many desir- 
 able things are grown into my temper, which I should 
 not have arrived at by better motives than the thought 
 
 10 of being one day hers. I am pretty well satisfied 
 such a passion as I have had is never well cured ; and 
 between you and me, I am often apt to imagine it has 
 had some whimsical effect upon my brain. For I fre- 
 quently find, that in my most serious discourse I let 
 
 ^5 fall some comical familiarity of speech or odd phrase 
 that makes the company laugh; however, I cannot 
 but allow she is a most excellent woman. When she 
 is in the country, I warrant she does not run into 
 dairies, but reads upon the nature of plants; but has 
 
 20 a glass hive, and comes into the garden out of books 
 to see them work, and observe the policies of their 
 commonwealth. She understands everything. I'd give 
 ten pounds to hear her argue with my friend Sir Andrew 
 Freeport about trade. 'No, no, for all she looks so 
 
 25 innocent as it were, take my word for it she is no fool.'' 
 
XI v] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 81 
 
 XIV. TOWN AND COUNTRY MANNERS. 
 
 The first and most obvious reflections whicli arise 
 in a man who changes the city for the country, are 
 upon the different manners of the people whom he 
 meets with in those two different scenes of life. By 
 manners I do not mean morals, but behavior and good- 5 
 breeding as they show themselves in the town and in 
 the country. 
 
 And here, in the first place, I must observe a very 
 great revolution that has happened in this article of 
 good-breeding. Several obliging deferences, conde- 10 
 scensions, and submissions, with many outward forms 
 and ceremonies that accompany them, were first of all 
 brought up among the politer part of mankind, who 
 lived in courts and cities, and distinguished themselves 
 from the rustic part of the species (who on all occa- 15 
 sions acted bluntly and naturally) by such a mutual 
 complaisance and intercourse of civilities. These 
 forms of conversation by degrees multiplied and grew 
 troublesome; the modish world found too gieat a con- 
 straint in them, and have therefore thrown most of 20 
 them aside. Conversation, like the Eomish religion, 
 was so encumbered with show and ceremony, that it 
 stood in need of a reformation to retrench its super- 
 
82 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [xiv 
 
 fluities, and restore it to its natural good sense and 
 beauty. At present therefore an unconstrained car- 
 riage, and a certain openness of behavior, are the 
 height of good-breeding. The fashionable world is 
 
 5 grown free and easy ; our manners sit more loose upon 
 us. Nothing is so modish as an agreeable negligence. 
 In a word, good-breeding shows itself most, where to 
 an ordinary eye it appears the least. 
 
 If after this we look on the people of mode in the 
 
 10 country, we find in them the manners of the last age. 
 They have no sooner fetched themselves up to the 
 fashion of the polite world, but the town has dropped 
 them, and are nearer to the first state of nature than 
 to those refinements which formerly reigned in the 
 
 15 court, and still prevail in the country. One may now 
 know a man that never conversed in the world, by his 
 excess of good-breeding. A polite country squire shall 
 make you as many bows in half an hour as would serve 
 a courtier for a week. There is infinitely more to do 
 
 20 about place and precedency in a meeting of justices' 
 wives than in an assembly of duchesses. 
 
 This rural politeness is very troublesome to a man 
 of my temper, who generally take the chair that is 
 next me, and walk first or last, in the front or in the 
 
 25 rear, as chance directs. I have known my friend Sir 
 
XI v] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 83 
 
 Eoger's dinner almost cold before the company could 
 adjust the ceremonial, and be prevailed upon to sit 
 down ; and have heartily pitied my old friend, when 
 I have seen him forced to pick and cull his guests, as 
 they sat at the several parts of his table, that he 5 
 might drink their healths according to their respective 
 ranks and qualities. Honest Will Wimble, who I 
 should have thought had been altogether uninfected 
 with ceremony, gives me abundance of trouble in this 
 particular. Though he has been fishing all the morn- lo 
 ing, he will not help himself at dinner till I am served. 
 When we are going out of the hall, he runs behind 
 me ; and last night, as we were walking in the fields, 
 stopped short at a stile till I came up to it, and upon 
 my making signs to him to get over, told me, with a 15 
 serious smile, that sure I believed they had no man- 
 ners in the country. 
 
 There has happened another revolution in the point 
 of good-breeding, which relates to the conversation 
 among men of mode, and which I cannot but look 20 
 upon as v^ry extraordinary. It was certainly one of 
 the first distinctions of a well-bred man, to express 
 everything that had the most remote appearance of y 
 being obscene, in modest terms and distant phrases; 
 whilst the clown, who had no such delicacy of con- 25 
 
84 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xiv 
 
 ception and expression, clothed his ideas in those 
 plain, homely terms that are the most obvious and 
 natural. This kind of good manners was perhaps 
 carried to an excess, so as to make conversation too 
 
 5 stiff, formal, and precise : for which reason (as hy- 
 pocrisy in one age is generally succeeded by atheism 
 in another) conversation is in a great measure relapsed 
 into the first extreme ; so that at present several of 
 our men of the town, and particularly those who have 
 
 10 been polished in France, make use of the most coarse, 
 uncivilized words in our language, and utter them- 
 selves often in such a manner as a clown would blush 
 to hear. 
 
 This infamous piece of good-breeding, which reigns 
 
 15 among the coxcombs of the town, has not yet made 
 its way into the country ; and as it is impossible for 
 such an irrational way of conversation to last long 
 among a people that make any profession of religion, 
 or show of modesty, if the country gentlemen get 
 
 20 into it they will certainly be left in the lurch. Their 
 good-breeding will come too late to them, and they 
 will be thought a parcel of lewd clowns, while they 
 fancy themselves talking together like men of wit 
 and pleasure. 
 
 25 As the two points of good-breeding, which I have 
 
XV] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 85 
 
 hitherto insisted upon, regard behavior and conver- 
 sation, there is a third which turns upon dress. In 
 this, too, the country are very much behindhand. 
 The rural beaus are not yet got out of the fashion 
 that took place at the time of the Eevolution, but 5 
 ride about the country in red coats and laced hats, 
 while the women in many parts are still trying 
 to outvie one another in the height of their head- 
 dresses. ° 
 
 But a friend of mine, who is now upon the western lo 
 circuit, having promised to give me an account of the 
 several modes and fashions that prevail in the differ- 
 ent parts of the nation through which he passes, I 
 shall defer the enlarging upon this last topic till I 
 have received a letter from him, which I expect every 15 
 post. 
 
 XV. SIR ROGER AT THE ASSIZES. 
 
 A man's first care should be to avoid the reproaches 
 of his own heart j his next to escape the censures of 
 the world. If the last interferes with the former, it 
 ought to be entirely neglected; but otherwise there 20 
 cannot be a greater satisfaction to an honest mind 
 than to see those approbations which it gives itself 
 seconded by the applauses of the public. A man is 
 more sure of his conduct when the verdict which he 
 
S6 SIE ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [xv 
 
 passes upon his own behavior is thus warranted and 
 confirmed by the opinion of all that know him. 
 
 My worthy friend Sir Eoger is one of those who is 
 not only at peace within himself, but beloved and 
 
 5 esteemed by all about him. He receives a suitable 
 tribute for his universal benevolence to mankind, in 
 the returns of affection and good-will which are paid 
 him by every one that lives within his neighborhood. 
 I lately met with two or three odd instances of that 
 
 10 general respect which is shown to the good old Knight. 
 He would needs carry Will Wimble and myself with 
 him to the county assizes. As we were upon the road, 
 Will Wimble joined a couple of plain men who rid 
 before us, and conversed with them for some time; 
 
 15 during which my friend Sir Eoger acquainted me with 
 their characters. 
 
 "The first of them," says he, "that has a spaniel 
 by his side, is a yeoman of about an hundred pounds 
 a year, an honest man. He is just within the Game- 
 
 20 Act, and qualified" to kill an hare or a pheasant. He 
 knocks down a dinner with his gun twice or thrice a 
 week; and by that means lives much cheaper than 
 those who have not so good an estate as himself. He 
 would be a good neighbor if he did not destroy so 
 
 25 many partridges ; in short, he is a very sensible man, 
 
xv] SIR nOGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 87 
 
 shoots flying, and has been several times foreman of 
 the petty jury. 
 
 "The other that rides along with him is Tom 
 Touchy, a fellow famous for taking the law of every- 
 body. There is not one in the town where he lives 5 
 that he has not sued at a quarter sessions. The rogue 
 had once the impudence to go to law with the Widow. 
 His head is full of costs, damages, and ejectments ; he 
 plagued a couple of honest gentlemen so long for a 
 trespass in breaking one of his hedges, till he was lo 
 forced to sell the ground it enclosed to defray the 
 charges of the prosecution. His father left him four- 
 score pounds a year, but he has cast° and been cast so 
 often, that he is not now worth thirty. I suppose he 
 is going upon the old business of the willow-tree. "° ^5 
 
 As Sir Koger was giving me this account of Tom 
 Touchy, Will Wimble and his two companions stopped 
 short till we came up to them. After having paid 
 their respects to Sir Eoger, Will told him that Mr. 
 Touchy and he must appeal to him upon a dispute 20 
 that arose between them. Will, it seems, had been 
 giving his fellow-traveller an account of his angling 
 one day in such a hole ; when Tom Touchy, instead of 
 hearing out his story, told him that Mr. Such-an-one, 
 if he pleased, might take the law of him for fishing in 25 
 
S8 SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xv 
 
 that part of the river. My friend Sir Eoger heard 
 them both, upon a round trot ; and, after having paused 
 some time, told them, with the air of a man who would 
 not give his judgment rashly, that much might be said 
 
 5 on both sides. They were neither of them dissatisfied 
 with the Knight's determination, because neither of 
 them found himself in the wrong by it. Upon which 
 we made the best of our way to the assizes. 
 
 The court was sat before Sir Eoger came ; but not- 
 
 10 withstanding all the justices had taken their places 
 upon the bench, they made room for the old Knight 
 at the head of them; who, for his reputation in the 
 country, took occasion to whisper in the judge's ear, 
 that he was glad his lordship had met with so much 
 
 15 good weather in his circuit. I was listening to the 
 proceeding of the court with much attention, and in- 
 finitely pleased with that great appearance and solem- 
 nity which so properly accompanies such a public 
 administration of our laws; when, after about an 
 
 20 hour's sitting, I observed, to my great surprise, in 
 the midst of a trial, that my friend Sir Eoger was 
 getting up to speak. I was in some pain for him, till 
 I found he had acquitted himself of two or three 
 sentences, with a look of much business and great 
 
 25 intrepidity. 
 
XV] sin ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 89 
 
 Upon liis first rising the court was hushed, and a 
 general whisper ran among the country people that Sir 
 Eoger was up. The speech he made was so little to 
 the purpose, that I shall not trouble my readers with 
 an account of it; and I believe was not so much de- 5 
 signed by the Knight himself to inform the court, as 
 to give him a figure in my eye^ and keep up his credit 
 in the country. 
 
 I was highly delighted, when the court rose, to see 
 the gentlemen of the country gathering about my old lo 
 friend, and striving who should compliment him most; 
 at the same time that the ordinary people gazed upon 
 him at a distance, not a little admiring his courage, 
 that was not afraid to speak to the judge. 
 
 In our return home we met with a very odd accident, 15 
 which I cannot forbear relating, because it shows how 
 desirous all who know Sir Roger are of giving hii 
 marks of their esteem. When we were arrived upon 
 the verge of his estate, we stopped at a little inn to 
 rest ourselves and our horses. The man of the house 20 
 had, it seems, been formerly a servant in the Knight's 
 family ; and, to do honor to his old master, had some 
 time since, unknown to Sir Eoger, put him up in a 
 sign-post before the door; so that the Knight's Head 
 had hung out upon the road about a week before he 25 
 
90 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xv 
 
 himself knew anything of the matter. As soon as Sir 
 Roger was acquainted with it, finding that his ser- 
 vant's indiscretion proceeded wholly from affection and 
 good-will, he only told him that he had made him too 
 
 5 high a compliment; and when the fellow seemed to 
 think that could hardly be, added, with a more de- 
 cisive look, that it was too great an honor for any man 
 under a duke; but told him at the same time that it 
 might be altered with a very few touches, and that he 
 
 10 himself would be at the charge of it. Accordingly 
 they got a painter, by the Knight's directions, to add 
 a pair of whiskers to the face, and by a little aggrava- 
 tion of the features to change it into the Saracen's 
 Head.° I should not have known this story had not 
 
 15 the inn-keeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, told him 
 in my hearing, that his honor's head was brought back 
 last night with the alterations that he had ordered to 
 be made in it. Upon this, my friend, with his usual 
 cheerfulness, related the particulars above mentioned, 
 
 20 and ordered the head to be brought into the room. I 
 could not forbear discovering greater expressions of 
 mirth than ordinary upon the appearance of this mon- 
 strous face, under which, notwithstanding it was made 
 to frown and stare in a most extraordinary manner, I 
 
 25 could still discover a distant resemblance of my old 
 
XVl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 91 
 
 friend. Sir Eoger, upon seeing me laugh, desired me 
 to tell him truly if I thought it possible for people to 
 know him in that disguise. I at first kept my usual 
 silence; but upon the Knight's conjuring me to tell 
 him whether it was not still more like himself than a 5 
 Saracen, I composed my countenance in the best man- 
 ner I could, and replied that much might he said on 
 both sides. 
 
 These several adventures, with the Knight's be- 
 havior in them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I lo 
 met with in any of my travels. 
 
 XVI. SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 
 
 My worthy friend Sir Eoger, when we are talking 
 of the malice of parties, very frequently tells us an 
 accident that happened to him when he was a school- 
 boy, which was at a time when the feuds ran high be- 15 
 tween the Eoundheads and Cavaliers. This worthy 
 Knight, being then but a stripling, had occasion to 
 inquire which was the way to St. Anne's Lane, upon ^ 
 which the person whom he spoke to, instead of answer- 
 ing his question, called him a young Popish cur, and 20 
 asked him who had made Anne a saint! The boy, 
 being in some confusion, inquired of the next he met, 
 which was the way to Anne's Lane ; but was called a 
 
92 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xvi 
 
 prick-eared cur for his pains, and instead of being 
 shown the way, was told that she had been a saint 
 before he was born, and would be one after he was 
 hanged. "Upon this," says Sir Eoger, "I did not 
 
 5 think fit to repeat the former question, but going into 
 every lane of the neighborhood, asked what they called 
 the name of that lane." By which ingenious artifice 
 he found out the place he inquired after, without giv- 
 ing offence to any party. Sir Eoger generally closes 
 
 10 this narrative with reflections on the mischief that 
 parties do in the country ; how they spoil good neigh- 
 borhood, and make honest gentlemen hate one another ; 
 besides that they manifestly tend to the prejudice of 
 the land-tax, and the destruction of the game. 
 
 15 There cannot a greater judgment befall a country 
 than such a dreadful spirit of division as rends a 
 government into two distinct people, and makes them 
 greater strangers and more averse to one another, than 
 if they were actually two different nations. The effects 
 
 20 of such a division are pernicious to the last degree, not 
 only with regard to those advantages which they give 
 the common enemy, but to those private evils which 
 they produce in the heart of almost every particular° 
 person. This influence is very fatal both to men's 
 
 25 morals and their understandings ; it sinks the virtue 
 
XVl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 93 
 
 of a nation, and not only so, but destroys even common 
 sense. 
 
 A furious party spirit, when it rages in its full 
 violence, exerts itself in civil war and bloodshed; 
 and when it is under its greatest restraints naturally 5 
 breaks out in falsehood, detraction, calumny, and a 
 partial administration of justice. In a word, it fills 
 a nation with spleen and rancor, and extinguishes all 
 the seeds of good-nature, compassion, and humanity. 
 
 Plutarch° says, very finely, " that a man should not lo 
 allow himself to hate even his enemies, because," says 
 he, "if you indulge this passion in some occasions, it 
 will rise of itself in others ; if you hate your enemies, 
 you will contract such a vicious habit of mind, as by 
 degrees will break out upon those who are your friends, 15 
 or those who are indifferent to you." I might here 
 observe how admirably this precept of morality (which 
 derives the malignity of hatred from the passion itself, 
 and not from its object) answers to that great rule° 
 which was dictated to the world about an hundred 2*6 -■ 
 years before this philosopher wrote ; but instead of 
 that, I shall only take notice, with a real grief of 
 heart, that the minds of many good men among us ap- 
 pear soured with party-principles, and alienated from 
 one another in such a manner, as seems to me alto- 25 
 
94 SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xvi 
 
 getlier inconsistent with the dictates either of reason 
 or religion. Zeal for a public cause is apt to breed 
 passions in the hearts of virtuous persons, to which 
 the regard of their own private interest would never 
 
 5 have betrayed them. 
 
 If this party spirit has so ill an effect on our morals, 
 it has likewise a very great one upon our judgments. 
 We often hear a poor insipid paper or pamphlet cried 
 up, and sometimes a noble piece depreciated, by those 
 
 10 who are of a different principle from the author. One 
 who is actuated by this spirit is almost under an in- 
 capacity of discerning either real blemishes or beauties. 
 A man of merit in a different principle is like an object 
 seen in two different mediums, that appears crooked 
 
 15 or broken, however straight and entire it may be in 
 itself. For this reason there is scarce a person of any 
 figure in England who does not go by two contrary 
 characters, as opposite to one another as light and 
 darkness. Knowledge and learning suffer in a par- 
 
 20 ticular manner from this strange prejudice, which at 
 present prevails amongst all ranks and degrees in the 
 British nation. As men formerly became eminent in 
 learned societies by their parts and acquisitions, they 
 now distinguish themselves by the warmth and vio- 
 
 25 lence with which they espouse their respective parties. 
 
XVl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 95 
 
 Books are valued upon the like considerations. An 
 abusive, scurrilous style passes for satire, and a dull 
 scheme of party notions is called fine writing. 
 
 There is one piece of sophistry practised by both 
 sides, and that is the taking any scandalous story, 5 
 that has been ever whispered or invented of a private 
 man, for a known undoubted truth, and raising suit- 
 able speculations upon it. Calumnies that have been 
 never proved, or have been often refuted, are the 
 ordinary postulatums of these infamous scribblers, 10 
 upon which they proceed as upon first principles 
 granted by all men, though in their hearts they know 
 they are false, or at best very doubtful. When they 
 have laid these foundations of scurrility, it is no won- 
 der that their superstructure is every way answerable 15 
 to them. If this shameless practice of the present age 
 endures much longer, praise and reproach will cease 
 to be motives of action in good men. 
 
 There are certain periods of time in all govern- 
 ments when this inhuman spirit prevails. Italy was 20 
 long torn in pieces by the Guelphs and Ghibellines,° 
 and France by those who were for and against the 
 League :° but it is very unhappy for a man to be born 
 in such a stormy and tempestuous season. It is the 
 restless ambition of artful men that thus breaks a 25 
 
96 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xvi 
 
 people into factions, and draws several well-meaning 
 persons to tlieir interest by a specious concern for 
 their country. How many honest minds are filled 
 with uncharitable and barbarous notions, out of their 
 
 5 zeal for the public good? What cruelties and out- 
 rages would they not commit against men of an ad- 
 verse party, whom they would honor and esteem, if, 
 instead of considering them as they are represented, 
 they knew them as they are ? Thus are persons of 
 
 10 the greatest probity seduced into shameful errors and 
 prejudices, and made bad men even by that noblest of 
 principles, the love of their country. I cannot here 
 forbear mentioning the famous Spanish proverb, ^^ If 
 there were neither fools nor knaves in the world, all 
 
 15 people would be of one mind." 
 
 For my own part I could heartily wish that all 
 honest men would enter into an association, for the 
 support of one another against the endeavors of those 
 whom they ought to look upon as their common ene- 
 
 20 mies, whatsoever side they may belong to. Were 
 there such an honest body of neutral forces, we 
 
 * should never see the worst of men in great figures of 
 life, because they are useful to a party ; nor the best 
 unregarded, because they are above practising those 
 
 25 methods which would be grateful to their faction. 
 
XVll] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 97 
 
 We should then single every criminal out of the herd, 
 and hunt him down, however formidable and over- 
 grown he might appear; on the contrary, we should 
 shelter distressed innocence, and defend virtue, how- 
 ever beset with contempt or ridicule, envy or defama- 5 
 tion. In short, we should not any longer regard our 
 fellow-subjects as Whigs or Tories, but should make 
 the man of merit our friend, and the villain our 
 enemy. 
 
 XVII. SIR EOGER AND THE GYPSIES. 
 
 As I was yesterday riding out in the fields with my lo 
 friend Sir Eoger, we saw at a little distance from us a 
 troop of gypsies. Upon the first discovery of them, 
 my friend was in some doubt whether he should not 
 exert the Justice of the Peace upon such a band of 
 lawless vagrants ; but not having his clerk with him, 15 
 who is a necessary counsellor on these occasions, and 
 fearing that his poultry might fare the worse for it, 
 he let the thought drop: but at the same time gave 
 me a particular account of the mischiefs they do in ,^, 
 the country, in stealing people's goods and spoiling m 
 their servants. " If a stray piece of linen hangs upon 
 an hedge," says Sir Eoger, "they are sure to have it; 
 if the hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one 
 
98 SIB ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xvil 
 
 but he becomes their prey; our geese cannot live in 
 peace for them ; if a man prosecutes them with sever- 
 ity, his hen-roost is sure to pay for it : they generally 
 straggle into these parts about this time of the year ; 
 
 5 and set the heads of our servant-maids so agog for 
 husbands, that we do not expect to have any business 
 done as it should be whilst they are in the country. 
 I have an honest dairy-maid who crosses their hands 
 with a piece of silver every summer, and never fails 
 
 10 being promised the handsomest young fellow in the 
 parish for her pains. Your friend the butler has been 
 fool enough to be seduced by them ; and, though he is 
 sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon every time his 
 fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in the 
 
 15 pantry with an old gypsy for above half an hour once 
 in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are the things they 
 live upon, which they bestow very plentifully upon 
 all those that apply themselves to them. You see 
 now and then some handsome young jades among 
 
 20 them : the sluts have very often white teeth and black 
 eyes." 
 
 Sir Eoger, observing that I listened with great at- 
 tention to his account of a people who were so entirely 
 new to me, told me that, if I would, they should tell us 
 
 25 our fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the 
 
XVli] SIR nOGBR DE COVEELEY PAPERS 99 
 
 Knight's proposal, we rid up and communicated our 
 hands to them. A Cassandra° of the crew, after hav- 
 ing examined my lines very diligently, told me that I 
 loved a pretty maid in a corner ; that I was a good 
 woman's man; with some other particulars which I 5 
 do not think proper to relate. My friend Sir Eoger 
 alighted from his horse, and exposing his palm to two 
 or three that stood by him, they crumpled it into all 
 shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle that 
 could be made in it; when one of them, who was lo 
 older and more sunburnt than the rest, told him that 
 he had a widow in his line of life :° upon which the 
 Knight cried, " Go, go, you are an idle baggage ; " and 
 at the same time smiled upon me. The gypsy, find- 
 ing he was not displeased in his heart, told him after 15 
 a farther inquiry into his hand, that his true love was 
 constant, and that she should dream of him to-night : 
 my old friend cried " Pish ! " and bid her go on. The 
 gypsy told him that he was a bachelor, but would not ^ , 
 be so long ; and that he was dearer to somebody than 2^^;: 
 he thought. The Knight still repeated she was an 4^ 
 idle baggage and bid her go on. " Ah, master," said 
 the gypsy, " that roguish leer of yours makes a pretty 
 woman's heart ache : you ha'n't that simper about the 
 mouth for nothing ." The uncouth gibberish with 25 
 
100 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xvil 
 
 which all this was uttered, like the darkness of an 
 oracle, made us the more attentive to it. To be short, 
 the Knight left the money with her that he had 
 crossed her hand with, and got up again on his horse. 
 
 5 As we were riding away. Sir Eoger told me that he 
 knew several sensible people who believed these gyp- 
 sies now and then foretold very strange things ; and 
 for half an hour together appeared more jocund than 
 ordinary. In the height of his good humor, meeting 
 
 10 a common beggar upon the road Avho was no conjurer, 
 as he went to relieve him he found his pocket was 
 picked ; that being a kind of palmistry at which this 
 race of vermin are very dexterous. 
 
 I might here entertain my reader with historical re- 
 
 15 marks on this idle, profligate people, who infest all the 
 countries of Europe, and live in the midst of govern- 
 ments in a kind of commonwealth by themselves. But 
 instead of entering into observations of this nature, I 
 shall fill the remaining part of my paper with a story 
 
 20 which is still fresh in Holland, and was printed in 
 one of our monthly accounts about twenty years ago. 
 " As the trekschuyt, or hackney-boat, which carries pas- 
 sengers from Leyden to Amsterdam, was putting off, 
 a boy running along the side of the canal desired to 
 
 25 be taken in : which the master of the boat refused, 
 
XVIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 101 
 
 because the lad had not quite money enough to pay 
 the usual fare. An eminent merchant being pleased 
 with the looks of the boy, and secretly touched with 
 compassion towards him, paid the money for him, and 
 ordered him to be taken on board. Upon talking with 5 
 him afterwards, he found that he could speak readily 
 in three or four languages, and learned upon farther 
 examination that he had been stolen away when he 
 was a child by a gypsy, and had rambled ever since 
 with a gang of those strollers up and down several 10 
 parts of Europe. It happened that the merchant, 
 whose heart seems to have inclined towards the boy 
 by a secret kind of instinct, had himself lost a child 
 some years before. The parents, after a long search 
 for him, gave him for drowned in one of the canals 15 
 with which that country abounds ; and the mother 
 was so afflicted at the loss of a fine boy, who was her 
 only son, that she died for grief of it. Upon laying to- 
 gether all particulars, and examining the several moles 
 and marks by which the mother used to describe the 20 
 child when he was first missing, the boy proved to be 
 the son of the merchant, whose heart had so unac- 
 countably melted at the sight of him. The lad was 
 very well pleased to find a father who was so rich, 
 and likely to leave him a good estate : the father, on 25 
 
102 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xvill 
 
 the other hand, was not a little delighted to see a son 
 return to him, whom he had given for lost, with such 
 a strength of constitution, sharpness of understand- 
 ing, and skill in languages/' Here the printed story 
 
 5 leaves off ; but if I may give credit to reports, our 
 linguist having received such extraordinary rudiments 
 towards a good education, was afterwards trained up 
 in everything that becomes a gentleman ; wearing olf 
 by little and little all the vicious habits and practices 
 
 10 that he had been used to in the course of his peregri- 
 nations. Nay, it is said that he has since been em- 
 ployed in foreign courts upon national business, with 
 great reputation to himself and honor to those who 
 sent him, and that he has visited several countries as 
 
 15 a public minister, in which he formerly wandered as a 
 
 gypsy. 
 
 XVIII. WHY THE SPECTATOR LEAVES COVERLET 
 HALL. 
 
 It is usual for a man who loves country sports to 
 preserve the game in his own grounds, and divert him- 
 self upon those that belong to his neighbor. My friend 
 20 Sir Eoger generally goes two or three miles from his 
 house, and gets into the frontiers of his estate, before 
 he beats about in search of a hare or partridge, on 
 
XVIIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 103 
 
 purpose to spare his own fields, where he is always 
 sure of finding diversion when the worst comes to the 
 worst. By this means the breed about his house has 
 time to increase and multiply; besides that the sport 
 is the more agreeable where the game is the harder to 5 
 come at, and where it does not lie so thick as to pro- 
 duce any perplexity or confusion in the pursuit. For 
 these reasons the country gentleman, like the fox, 
 seldom preys near his own home. 
 
 In the same manner I have made a month's excur- lo 
 sion out of the town, which is the great field of game 
 for sportsmen of my species, to try my fortune in the 
 country, where I have started several subjects, and 
 hunted them down, with some pleasure to myself, and 
 I hope to others. I am here forced to use a great deal 15 
 of diligence before I can spring anything to my mind; 
 whereas in town, whilst I am following one character, 
 it is ten to one but I am crossed in my way by another, 
 and put up such a variety of odd creatures in both 
 sexes, that they foil the scent of one another, and 20 
 puzzle the chase. My greatest difficulty in the coun- 
 try is to find sport, and, in, town, to choose it. In the 
 mean time, as I have given a whole month's rest to 
 the cities of London and Westminster, I promise my- 
 self abundance of new game upon my return thither. 25 
 
104 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xvill 
 
 It is indeed high time for me to leave the country, 
 since I find the whole neighborhood begin to grow 
 very inquisitive after my name and character; my 
 love of solitude, taciturnity, and particular way of 
 
 5 life having raised a great curiosity in all these parts. 
 
 The notions which have been framed of me are 
 
 various : some look upon me as very proud, some as 
 
 very modest, and some as very melancholy. Will 
 
 Wimble, as my friend the butler tells me, observing 
 
 lo me very much alone, and extremely silent when I am 
 in company, is afraid I have killed a man. The coun- 
 try people seem to suspect me for a conjurer; and 
 some of them, hearing of the visit which I made to 
 Moll White, will needs have it that Sir Eoger has 
 
 15 brought down a cunning man with him, to cure the 
 
 old woman, and free the country from her charms. 
 
 So that the character which I go under in part of the 
 
 neighborhood is what they here call a " White Witch. "° 
 
 A Justice of Peace, who lives about five milbs off, 
 
 20 and is not of Sir Eoger's party, has, it seems, said twice 
 or thrice at his table, that he wishes Sir Eoger does 
 not harbor a Jesuit in his house, and that he thinks 
 the gentlemen of the country would do very well to 
 make me give some account of myself. 
 
 25 On the other side, some of Sir Eoger's friends are 
 
XVIIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 105 
 
 afraid the old Knight is imposed upon by a designing 
 fellow, and as they have heard that he converses very 
 promiscuously, when he is in town, do not know but 
 he has brought down with him some discarded Whig, 
 that is sullen and says nothing because he is out of 5 
 place. 
 
 Such is the variety of opinions which are here enter- 
 tained of me, so that I pass among some for a dis- 
 affected person, and among others for a Popish priest; 
 among some for a wizard, and among others for a 10 
 murderer; and all this for no other reason, that I can 
 imagine, but because I do not hoot and holloa and 
 make a nois'e. It is true, my friend Sir Koger tells 
 them, that it is my way, and that I am only a philoso- 
 pher; but this will not satisfy them. They think 15 
 there is more in me than he discovers, and that I do 
 not hold my tongue for nothing. 
 
 Eor these and other reasons I shall set out for Lon- 
 don to-morrow, having found by experience that the 
 country is not a place for a person of my temper, who 20 
 does not love jollity, and what they call good neigh- 
 borhood. A man that is out of humor when an unex- 
 pected guest breaks in upon him, and does not care 
 for sacrificing an afternoon to every chance-comer, 
 that will be the master of his own time, and the pur- 25 
 
106 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xvill 
 
 suer of his own inclinations, makes but a very unso- 
 ciable figure in this kind of life. I shall therefore 
 retire into the town, if I may make use of that phrase, 
 and get into the crowd again as fast as I can, in order 
 
 5 to be alone. I can there raise what speculations I 
 please upon others, without being observed myself, 
 and at the same time enjoy all the advantages of com- 
 pany with all the privileges of solitude. In the mean- 
 while, to finish the month, and conclude these my 
 
 10 rural speculations, I shall here insert a letter from 
 my friend Will Honeycomb, who has not lived a month 
 for these forty years out of the smoke of London, and 
 rallies me after his way upon my country life. 
 
 "Dear Spec, — • 
 
 15 "I suppose this letter will find thee picking of 
 daisies, or smelling to a lock of hay, or passing away 
 thy time in some innocent country diversion of the 
 like nature. I have, however, orders from the club 
 to summon thee up to town, being all of us cursedly 
 
 20 afraid thou wilt not be able to relish our company, 
 after thy conversations with Moll White and Will 
 Wimble. Pr'ythee don't send us up any more stories 
 of a cock and a bull, nor frighten the town with spirits 
 and witches. Thy speculations begin to smell con- 
 
XIX] SIR ROGUE DE COVERLET PAPERS 107 
 
 foundedly of woods and meadows. If thou dost not 
 come up quickly, we shall conclude that thou art in 
 love with one of Sir Eoger's dairy-maids. Service to 
 the Knight. Sir Andrew is grown the cock of the 
 club since he left us, and if he does not return quickly 
 will make every mother's son of us Commonwealth's 
 men.° 
 
 ^^Dear Spec, 
 
 "Thine eternally, 
 
 "Will Honeycomb.'' 
 
 XIX. THE SPECTATOR'S EXPERIENCE IN A STAGE- 
 COACH. 
 
 Having notified to my good friend Sir Eoger that 
 I should set out for London the next day, his horses 
 were ready at the appointed hour in the evening; 
 and attended by one of his grooms, I arrived at the 
 county-town at twilight, in order to be ready for the 15 
 stage-coach the day following. As soon as we ar- 
 rived at the inn, the servant who waited upon me, 
 inquired of the chamberlain, in my hearing, what 
 company he had for the coach. The fellow answered, 
 " Mrs. Betty Arable, the great fortune, and the widow 20 
 her mother ; a recruiting officer (who took a place be- 
 
108 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xiX 
 
 cause they were to go) ; young Squire Quickset, lier 
 cousin (that her mother wished her to be married to) ; 
 Ephraim, the Quaker, her guardian ; and a gentleman 
 that had studied himself dumb from Sir Eoger de 
 
 5 Coverley's." I observed by what he said of myself, 
 that according to his office, he dealt much in intelli- 
 gence ; and doubted not but there was some founda- 
 tion for his reports of the rest of the company, as well 
 as for the whimsical account -he gave of me. 
 
 lo The next morning at day -break we were all called ; 
 and I, who know my own natural shyness, and endeavor 
 to be as little liable to be disputed with as possible, 
 dressed immediately that I might make no one wait. 
 The first preparation for our setting out was, that the 
 
 15 captain's half -pike was placed near the coachman, and 
 a drum behind the coach. In the meantime the drum- 
 mer, the captain's equipage, was very loud that none 
 of the captain's things should be placed so as to be 
 spoiled; upon which his cloak-bag was fixed in the 
 
 20 seat of the coach ; and the captain himself, according 
 to a frequent, though invidious behavior of military 
 men, ordered his man to look sharp, that none but one 
 of the ladies should have the place he had taken 
 fronting to tKe coach-box. 
 
 25 We were in some little time fixed in our seats, and 
 
Xix] SIB ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 109 
 
 sat with tliat dislike which people not too good- 
 natured usually conceive of each other at first sight. 
 The coach jumbled us insensibly into some sort of 
 familiarity : and we had not moved above two miles, 
 when the widow asked the captain what success he 5 
 had in his recruiting. The officer, with a frankness 
 he believed very graceful, told her that indeed he 
 had but very little luck, and had suffered much by 
 desertion, therefore should be glad to end his warfare 
 in the service of her or her fair daughter. "In a lo 
 word,^' continued he, "I am a soldier, and to be 
 plain is my character: you see me, madam, young, 
 sound, and impudent; take me yourself, widow, or 
 give me to her, I will be wholly at your disposal. I 
 am a soldier of fortune, ha ! '^ This was followed by 15 
 a vain laugh of his own, and a deep silence of all the 
 rest of the company. I had nothing left for it but to 
 fall fast asleep, which I did with all speed. " Come," 
 said he, "resolve upon it, we will make a wedding at 
 the next town : we will wake this pleasant companion 20 
 who has fallen asleep, to be the brideman, and " (giv- 
 ing the Quaker a clap on the knee) he concluded, 
 "this sly saint, who, Pll warrant, understands what's 
 what as well as you or I, widow, shall give the bride 
 as father." 25 
 
110 SIR ROGER I)E COVERLEY PAPERS [xiX 
 
 The Quaker, who happened to be a man of smart- 
 ness, answered, "Friend, I take it in good part, that 
 thou hast given me the authority of a father over this 
 comely and virtuous child; and I must assure thee, 
 
 5 that if I have the giving her, I shall not bestow her 
 on thee. Thy mirth, friend, savoreth of folly : thou 
 art a person of a light mind ; thy drum is a type of 
 thee, it soundeth because it is empty. Verily it is not 
 from thy fulness, but thy emptiness, that thou hast 
 
 10 spoken this day. Friend, friend, we have hired this 
 coach in partnership with thee to carry us to the great 
 city; we cannot go any other way. This worthy 
 mother must hear thee if thou wilt needs utter thy 
 follies ; we cannot help it, friend, I say : if thou wilt, 
 
 15 we must hear thee; but if thou wert a man of under- 
 standing, thou wouldst not take advantage of thy 
 courageous countenance to abash us children of peace. 
 Thou art, thou sayest, a soldier; give quarter to us, 
 who cannot resist thee. Why didst thou fleer at our 
 
 20 friend, who feigned himself asleep ? He said nothing, 
 but how dost thou know what he containeth ? If thou 
 speakest improper things in the hearing of this vir- 
 tuous young virgin, consider it is an outrage against 
 a distressed person that cannot get from thee: to 
 
 25 speak indiscreetly what we are obliged to hear, by 
 
Xix] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 111 
 
 being hasped up with thee in this public vehicle, is 
 in some degree assaulting on the high road." 
 
 Here Ephraim paused, and the captain with an 
 happy and uncommon impudence (which can be con- 
 victed and support itself at the same time) cries, 
 "Faith, friend, I thank thee; I should have been a 
 little impertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me. 
 Come, thou art, I see, a smoky old fellow, and I'll be 
 very orderly the ensuing part of the journey. I was 
 going to give myself airs, but, ladies, 1 beg pardon.'' 
 
 The captain was so little out of humor, and our com- 
 pany was so far from being soured by this little ruffle, 
 that Ephraim and he took a particular delight in being 
 agreeable to each other for the future ; and assumed 
 their different provinces in the conduct of the com- 
 pany. Our reckonings, apartments, and accommodation 
 fell under Ephraim; and the captain looked to all 
 disputes on the road, as the good behavior of our 
 coachman, and the right° we had of taking place as 
 going to London of all vehicles coming from thence. 
 
 The occurrences we met with were ordinary, and 
 very little happened which could entertain by the 
 relation of them : but when I considered the company 
 we were in, I took it for no small good fortune that 
 the whole journey was not spent in impertinences, 
 
112 SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xiX 
 
 which to one part of us might be an entertainment, to 
 the other a suffering. 
 
 What, therefore, Ephraim said when we were almost 
 arrived at London, had to me an air not only of good 
 
 5 understanding but good-breeding. Upon the young 
 lady's expressing her satisfaction in the journey, and 
 declaring how delightful it had been to her, Ephraim 
 declared himself as follows: "There is no ordinary 
 part of human life which expresseth so much a good 
 
 10 mind, and a right inward man, as his behavior upon 
 meeting with strangers, especially such as may seem 
 the most unsuitable companions to him : such a man, 
 when he falleth in the way with persons of simplicity 
 and innocence, however knowing he may be in the 
 
 15 ways of men, will not vaunt himself thereof; but will 
 the rather hide his superiority to them, that he may 
 not be painful unto them. My good friend" (con- 
 tinued he, turning to the officer), " thee and I are to 
 part by and by, and peradventure we may never meet 
 
 20 again : but be advised by a plain man ; modes and 
 apparel are but trifles to the real man, therefore do 
 not think such a man as thyself terrible for thy garb, 
 nor such a one as me contemptible for mine. When 
 two such as thee and I meet, with affections as we 
 
 25 ought to have towards each other, thou shouldst 
 
XX] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 113 
 
 rejoice to see my peaceable demeanor, and I should 
 be glad to see thy strength and ability to protect me 
 in it." 
 
 XX. STREET CRIES OF LONDON. 
 
 There is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner, 
 and frights a country squire, than the Cries of Lon- 5 
 don. My good friend Sir Eoger often declares, that 
 he cannot get them out of his head, or go to sleep for 
 them, the first week that he is in town. On the con- 
 trary, Will Honeycomb calls them the Ramage de la 
 Ville° and prefers them to the sounds of larks and 10 
 nightingales, with all the music of the fields and 
 woods. I have lately received a letter from some 
 very odd fellow upon this subject, which I shall leave 
 with my reader, without saying anything further of it. 
 "Sir,— 15 
 
 "I am a man of all business, and would willingly 
 turn my head to anything for an honest livelihood. 
 I have invented several projects for raising many 
 millions of money without burthening the subject, 
 but I cannot get the Parliament to listen to me, who 20 
 look upon me, forsooth, as a crack° and a projector; 
 so that despairing to enrich either myself or my 
 
114 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xx 
 
 country by this public-spiritedness, I would make 
 some proposals to you relating to a design which I 
 have very much at heart, and which may procure 
 me a handsome subsistence, if you will be pleased 
 
 5 to recommend it to the cities of London and West- 
 minster. 
 
 " The post I would aim at is to be Comptroller- 
 general of the London Cries, which are at present 
 under no manner of rules or discipline. I think I 
 
 10 am pretty well qualified for this place, as being a 
 man of very strong lungs, of great insight into all 
 the branches of our British trades and manufactures, 
 and of a competent skill in music. 
 
 ^^The Cries° of London may be divided into vocal 
 
 15 and instrumental. As for the latter, they are at pres- 
 ent under a very great disorder. A freeman° of Lon- 
 don has the privilege of disturbing a whole street for 
 an hour together, with the twanking of a brass kettle 
 or a frying-pan. The watchman's thump at midnight 
 
 20 startles us in our beds, as much as the breaking in of 
 a thief. The sowgelder's horn has indeed something 
 musical in it, but this is seldom heard within the 
 liberties. I would therefore propose, that no instru- 
 ment of this nature should be made use of, which I 
 
 25 have not tuned and licensed, after having carefully 
 
xx] sin ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 115 
 
 examined in what manner it may affect the ears of 
 Her Majesty's liege subjects. 
 
 "Vocal cries are of a much larger extent, and, in- 
 deed, so full of incongruities and barbarisms, that we 
 appear a distracted city to foreigners, who do not com- 5 
 prehend the meaning of such enormous outcries. Milk 
 is generally sold in a note above ela° and in sounds so 
 exceeding shrill, that it often sets our teeth on edge. 
 The chimney-sweeper is confined to no certain pitch ; 
 he sometimes utters himself in the deepest base, and lo 
 sometimes in the sharpest treble; sometimes in the 
 highest, and sometimes in the lowest note of the 
 gamut. The same observation might be made on 
 the retailers of small coal, not to mention broken 
 glasses or brick-dust. In these, therefore, and the ^5 
 like cases, it should be my care to sweeten and mellow 
 the voices of these itinerant tradesmen, before they 
 make their appearance in our streets, as also to ac- 
 commodate their cries to their respective wares ; and 
 to take care in particular that those may not make 20 
 the most noise who have the least to sell, which is 
 very observable in the venders of card-matches, to 
 whom I cannot but apply that old proverb of ^ Much 
 cry, but little wool.' 
 
 "Some of these last-mentioned musicians are so 25 
 
116 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xx 
 
 very loud in the sale of these trifling manufactures, 
 that an honest splenetic gentleman of my acquaint- 
 ance bargained with one of them never to come into 
 the street where he lived : but what was the effect of 
 
 5 this contract? why, the whole tribe of card-match- 
 makers which frequent that quarter, passed by his 
 door the very next day, in hopes of being bought off 
 after the same manner. 
 
 " It is another great imperfection in our London 
 
 10 Cries, that there is no just time nor measure observed 
 in them. Our news should, indeed, be published in 
 a very quick time, because it is a commodity that will 
 not keep cold. It should not, however, be cried with 
 the same precipitation as ' fire ' : yet this is generally 
 
 15 the case. A bloody battle alarms the town from one 
 end to another in an instant. Every motion of the 
 French is published in so great a hurry, that one 
 would think the enemy were at our gates. This like- 
 wise I would take upon me to regulate in such a 
 
 20 manner, that there should be some distinction made 
 between the spreading of a victory, a march, or an 
 encampment, a Dutch, a Portugal, or a Spanish mail. 
 Nor must I omit, under this head, those excessive 
 alarms with which several boisterous rustics infest 
 
 25 our streets in turnip season ; and which are more in- 
 
XX] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 117 
 
 excusable, because these are wares which are in no 
 danger of cooling upon their hands. 
 
 "There are others who affect a very slow time, 
 and are, in my opinion, much more tunable than the 
 former ; the cooper, in particular, swells his last note 5 
 in an hollow voice, that is not without its harmony : 
 nor can I forbear being inspired with a most agreeable 
 melancholy, when I hear that sad and solemn air with 
 which the public are very often asked, if they have 
 any chairs to mend ? Your own memory may suggest lo 
 to you many other lamentable ditties of the same 
 nature, in which the music is wonderfully languish- 
 ing and melodious. 
 
 " I am always pleased with that particular time of 
 the year which is proper for the pickling of dill and 15 
 cucumbers; but, alas, this cry, like the song of the 
 nightingale, is not heard above two months. It 
 would, therefore, be worth while to consider whether 
 the same air might not in some cases be adapted to 
 other words. 20 
 
 "It might likewise deserve our most serious con- 
 sideration, how far, in a well-regulated city, those hu- 
 morists are to be tolerated, who, not contented with 
 the traditional cries of their forefathers, have invented 
 particular songs and tunes of their own : such as was, 25 
 
118 sin ROGEH DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [xx 
 
 not many years since, the pastry-man, commonly 
 known by the name of the colly-molly-puff ; and such 
 as is at this day the vender of powder and wash-balls, 
 who, if I am rightly informed, goes under the name 
 
 5 of Powder Watt. 
 
 "I must not here omit one particular absurdity 
 which runs through this whole vociferous generation, 
 and which renders their cries very often not only 
 incommodious, but altogether useless to the public ; 
 
 10 I mean that idle accomplishment Avhich they all of 
 them aim at, of crying so as not to be understood. 
 Whether or no they have learned this from several 
 of our affected singers, I will not take upon me to 
 say; but most certain it is, that people know the 
 
 15 wares they deal in rather by their tunes than by their 
 words ; insomuch, that I have sometimes seen a country 
 boy run out to buy apples of a bellows-mender, and 
 gingerbread from a grinder of knives and scissors. 
 Nay, so strangely infatuated are some very eminent 
 
 20 artists of this particular grace in a cry, that none but 
 their acquaintance are able to guess at their profes- 
 sion ; for who else can know that ^ Work if I had it ' 
 should be the signification of a corn-cutter ? 
 
 "Forasmuch, therefore, as persons of this rank are 
 
 25 seldom men of genius or capacity, I think it would 
 
XXl] sin ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 119 
 
 be very proper, that some man of good sense, and 
 sound judgment, should preside over these public 
 Cries, who should permit none to lift up their voices 
 in our streets, that have not tunable throats, and 
 are not only able to overcome the noise of the crowd, 
 and the rattling of coaches, but also to vend their 
 respective merchandises in apt phrases, and in the 
 most distinct and agreeable sounds. I do therefore 
 humbly recommend myself as a person rightly quali- 
 fied for this post : and if I meet with fitting encour- 
 agement, shall communicate some other projects 
 which I have by me, that may no less conduce to the 
 emolument of the public. 
 '^ I am, Sir, &c. 
 
 '^Ealph Crotchet." 
 
 XXI. SIR ROGER IN TOWN. 
 
 I WAS this morning surprised with a great knocking 
 at the door, when my landlady's daughter came up to 
 me, and told me that there was a man below desired 
 to speak with me. Upon my asking her who it was, 
 she told me it was a very grave elderly person, but 20 
 that she did not know his name. I immediately 
 went down to him, and found him to be the coachman 
 
120 SIE ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xxi 
 
 of my worthy friend Sir Eoger de Coverley. He told 
 me that his master came to town last nighty and would 
 be glad to take a turn with me in Gray's-Inn Walks. 
 As I was wondering in myself what had brought Sir 
 
 5 Eoger to town, not having lately received any letter 
 from him, he told me that his master was come up to 
 get a sight of Prince Eugene, and that he desired I 
 would immediately meet him. 
 
 I was not a little pleased with the curiosity of the 
 
 10 old Knight, though I did not much wonder at it, 
 having heard him say more than once in private dis- 
 course, that he looked upon Prince Eugenio° (for so 
 the Knight always calls him), to be a greater man than 
 Scanderbeg.° 
 
 15 I was no sooner come into Gray's-Inn Walks, but I 
 heard my friend upon the terrace hemming twice or 
 thrice to himself with great vigor, for he loves to clear 
 his pipes in good air (to make use of his own phrase), 
 and is not a little pleased with any one who takes 
 
 20 notice of the strength which he still exerts in his 
 morning hems. 
 
 I was touched with a secret joy at the sight of the 
 good old man, who before he saw me was engaged in 
 conversation with a beggar-man that had asked an 
 
 25 alms of him. I could hear my friend chide him for 
 
XXl] SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS 121 
 
 not finding out some work 5 but at the same time saw 
 him put his hand in his pocket and give him sixpence. 
 
 Our salutations were very hearty on both sides, con- 
 sisting of many kind shakes of the hand, and several 
 affectionate looks which we cast upon one another. 5 
 After which the Knight told me my good friend his 
 chaplain was very well, and much at my service, and 
 that the Sunday before he had made a most incom- 
 parable sermon out of Doctor Barrow. " I have left, 
 says he, "all my affairs in his hands, and being will- 10 
 ing to lay an obligation upon him, have deposited with 
 him thirty marks, to be distributed among his poor 
 parishioners." 
 
 He then proceeded to acquaint me with the welfare 
 of Will Wimble. Upon which he put his hand into 15 
 his fob and presented me in his name with a tobacco- 
 stopper, telling me that Will had been busy all the 
 beginning of the winter, in turning great quantities 
 of them ; and that he made a present of one to every 
 gentleman in the country who has good principles, 20 
 and smokes. He added, that poor Will was at present 
 under great tribulation, for that Tom Touchy had 
 taken the law of him for cutting some hazel sticks 
 out of one of his hedges. 
 
 Among other pieces of news which the Knight 25 
 
122 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xXT 
 
 brought from his country seat, he informed me that 
 Moll White was dead; and that about a month after 
 her death the wind was so very high, that it blew 
 down the end of one of his barns. " But for my own 
 
 5 part," says Sir Eoger, "I do not think that the old 
 woman had any hand in it." 
 
 He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions 
 which had passed in his house during the holidays ; 
 for Sir Eoger, after the laudable custom of his ances- 
 
 10 tors, always keeps open house at Christmas. I learned 
 from him that he had killed eight fat hogs for the 
 season, that he had dealt about his chines very liber- 
 ally amongst his neighbors, and that in particular he 
 had sent a string of hogs -puddings with a pack of 
 
 15 cards to every poor family in the parish. "I have 
 often thought, " says Sir Eoger, " it happens very well 
 that Christmas should fall out in the middle of the 
 winter. It is the most dead, uncomfortable time of 
 the year, when the poor people would suffer very 
 
 20 much from their poverty and cold, if they had not 
 good cheer, warm fires, and Christmas gambols to 
 support them. I love to rejoice their poor hearts at 
 this season, and to see the whole village merry in my 
 great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my 
 
 25 small beer, and set it a running for twelve days to 
 
XXl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 123 
 
 every one that calls for it. I have always a piece of 
 cold beef and a mince-pie upon the table, and am 
 wonderfully pleased to see my tenants pass away a 
 whole evening in playing their innocent tricks, and 
 smutting one another. Our friend Will Wimble is 5 
 as merry as any of them, and shows a thousand roguish 
 tricks upon these occasions." 
 
 I was very much delighted with the reflection of my 
 old friend, which carried so much goodness in it. He 
 then launched out into the praise of the late Act of 10 
 Parliament for securing the Church of England, ° and 
 told me, with great satisfaction, that he believed it 
 already began to take effect, for that a rigid Dis- 
 senter, who chanced to dine at his house on Christmas 
 day, had been observed to eat very plentifully of his 15 
 plum-porridge. 
 
 After having dispatched all our country matters, 
 Sir Eoger made several inquiries concerning the club, 
 and particularly of his old antagonist Sir Andrew 
 Freeport. He asked me with a kind of smile whether 20 
 Sir Andrew had not taken advantage of his absence to 
 vent among them some of his republican doctrines; 
 but soon after, gathering up his countenance into a 
 more than ordinary seriousness, " Tell me truly, " says 
 he, " don't you think Sir Andrew had a hand in the 25 
 
124 SIE ROGER BE COVERLEY PAPERS [xxi 
 
 Pope's Procession? "° — but without giving me time 
 to answer him, "Well, well," says he, "I know you 
 are a wary man, and do not care to talk of public 
 matters." 
 
 5 The Knight then asked me if I had seen Prince 
 Eugenio, and made me promise to get him a stand in 
 some convenient place where he might have a full 
 sight of that extraordinary man, whose presence does 
 so much honor to the British nation. He dwelt very 
 
 10 long on the praises of this great general, and I found 
 that, since I was with him in the country, he had 
 drawn many observations together out of his reading 
 in Baker's Chronicle, and other authors, who always 
 lie in his hall window, which very much redound to 
 
 15 the honor of this prince. 
 
 Having passed away the greatest part of the morn- 
 ing in hearing the Knight's reflections, which were 
 partly private, and partly political, he asked me if I 
 would smoke a pipe with him over a dish of coffee at 
 
 20 Squire's. As I love the old man, I take delight in 
 complying with everything that is agreeable to him, 
 and accordingly waited on him to the coffee-house, 
 where his venerable figure drew upon us the eyes of 
 the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself 
 
 25 at the upper end of the high table, but he called for a 
 
XXll] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 125 
 
 clean pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of coffee, a wax 
 candle, and the Supplement, ° with such an air of 
 cheerfulness and good-humor, that all the boys in the 
 coffee-room (who seemed to take pleasure in serving 
 him) were at once employed on his several errands, 5 
 insomuch that nobody else could come at a dish of 
 tea, till the Knight had got all his conveniences about 
 him. 
 
 XXII. SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 My friend Sir Eoger de Coverley told me t'other 
 night that he had been reading my paper upon West- lo 
 minster Abbey, in which, says he, there are a great 
 many ingenious fancies. He told me, at the same 
 time, that he observed I had promised another paper 
 upon the tombs, ° and that he should be glad to go and 
 see them with me, not having visited them since he 15 
 had read history. I could not at first imagine how 
 this came into the Knight's head, till I recollected that 
 he had been very busy all last summer upon Baker's 
 Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his 
 disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his last com- 20 
 ing to town. Accordingly, I promised to call upon 
 him the next morning, that we might go together to 
 the Abbey. 
 
126 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxil 
 
 I found the Knight under his butler's hands, who 
 always shaves him. He was no sooner dressed than 
 he called for a glass of the Widow Trueby's water, 
 which he told me he always drank before he went 
 
 5 abroad. He recommended me to a dram of it at the 
 same time, with so much heartiness, that I could not 
 forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got it down, I 
 found it very unpalatable; upon which the Knight, 
 observing that I had made several wry faces, told me 
 
 10 that he knew I should not like it at first, but that it 
 was the best thing in the world against the stone or 
 gravel. 
 
 I could have wished, indeed, that he had acquainted 
 me with the virtues of it sooner; but it was too late to 
 
 15 complain, and I knew what he had done was out of 
 good-will. Sir Roger told me, further, that he looked 
 upon it to be very good for a man whilst he stayed in 
 town, to keep off infection; and that he got together 
 a quantity of it upon the first news of the sickness° 
 
 20 being at Dantzic. When of a sudden, turning short 
 to one of his servants, who stood behind him, he bid 
 him call a hackney-coach, and take care it was an 
 elderly man that drove it. 
 
 He then resumed his discourse upon Mrs. Trueby's 
 
 25 water, telling me that the Widow Trueby was one who 
 
XXIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 127 
 
 did more good than all the doctors and apothecaries 
 in the county; that she distilled every poppy that 
 grew within five miles of her; that she distributed 
 her water gratis among all sorts of people : to which 
 the Knight added, that she had a very great jointure, 5 
 and that the whole country would fain have it a match 
 between him and her; "And truly,'' says Sir Eoger, 
 " if I had not been engaged, perhaps I could not have 
 done better." 
 
 His discourse was broken off by his man's telling 10 
 him he had called a coach. Upon our going to it, 
 after having cast his eye upon the wheels, he asked 
 the coachman" if his axletree was good; upon the fel- 
 low's telling him he would warrant it, the Knight 
 turned to me, told me he looked like an honest man, 15 
 and went in without further ceremony. 
 
 We had not gone far, when Sir Eoger, popping out 
 his head, called the coachman down from his box, 
 and, upon his presenting himself at the window, asked 
 him if he smoked: as I was considering what this 20 
 would end in, he bid him stop by the way at any 
 good tobacconist's, and take in a roll of their best 
 Virginia. Nothing material happened in the remain- 
 ing part of our journey till we were set down at the 
 west end of the Abbey. 25 
 
128 SIR ROGER BE COVERLET PAPERS [xxil 
 
 As we went up the body of the church, the Knight 
 pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monu- 
 ments, and cried out, "A brave man, I warrant him! " 
 Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudesley Shovel, ° he flung 
 
 5 his hand that way, and cried, " Sir Cloudesley Shovel! 
 a very gallant man!" As we stood before Busby's 
 tomb, the Knight uttered himself again after the same 
 manner, — "Dr. Busby° — a great man! he whipped 
 my grandfather — a very great man ! I should have 
 
 10 gone to him myself if I had not been a blockhead — a 
 very great man! " 
 
 We were immediately conducted into the little 
 chapel on the right hand. Sir Eoger, planting him- 
 self at our historian's elbow, was very attentive to 
 
 15 everything he said, particularly to the account he 
 gave us of the lord who had cut off the King of 
 Morocco's head. Among several other figures, he was 
 very well pleased to see the statesman CeciF upon his 
 knees; and, concluding them all to be great men, was 
 
 20 conducted to the figure^ which represents that martyr 
 to good housewifery, who died by the prick of a needle. 
 Upon our interpreter's telling us that she was a maid 
 of honor to Queen Elizabeth, the Knight was very in- 
 quisitive into her name and family; and, after having 
 
 25 regarded her finger for some time, "I wonder," says 
 
XXIl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 129 
 
 he, "that Sir Eichard Baker has said nothing of her 
 in his Chronicle." 
 
 We were then conveyed to the two coronation 
 chairs, ° where my old friend, after having heard that 
 the stone underneath the most ancient of them, which 5 
 was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's Pillar, 
 sat himself down in the chair; and, looking like the 
 figure of an old Gothic king, asked our interpreter 
 what authority they had to say that Jacob had ever 
 been in Scotland. The fellow, instead of returning 10 
 him an answer, told him that he hoped his honor would 
 pay his forfeit. I could observe Sir Eoger a little 
 ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but, our guide not 
 insisting upon his demand, the Knight soon recovered 
 his good-humor, and whispered in my ear that if Will 15 
 Wimble were with us, and saw those two chairs, it 
 would go hard but he would get a tobacco-stopper out 
 of one or t'other of them. 
 
 Sir Eoger, in the next place, laid his hand upon 
 Edward the Third's sword, and, leaning upon the 20 
 pommel of it, gave us the whole history of the Black 
 Prince; concluding that, in Sir Eichard Baker's opin- 
 ion, Edward the Third was one of the greatest princes 
 that ever sat upon the English throne. 
 
 We were then shown Edward the Confessor's tomb, 25 
 
130 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxil 
 
 upon which Sir Eoger acquainted us that he was the 
 first who touched for the evil,° and afterwards Henry 
 the Fourth's, upon which he shook his head, and told 
 us there was fine reading in the casualties in that 
 
 5 reign. 
 
 Our conductor then pointed to that monument where 
 there is the figure of one of our English kings without 
 an head; and upon giving us to know that the head, 
 which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away 
 
 10 several years since, "Some Whig, I'll warrant you,'' 
 says Sir Eoger: "you ought to lock up your kings 
 better; they will carry off the body too if you don't 
 take care." 
 
 The glorious names of Henry the Fifth and Queen 
 
 15 Elizabeth gave the Knight great opportunities of shin- 
 ing and of doing justice to Sir Kichard Baker, ° who, 
 as our Knight observed with some surprise, had a 
 great many kings in him whose monuments he had 
 not seen in the Abbey. 
 
 20 For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see 
 the Knight show such an honest passion for the glory 
 of his country, and such a respectful gratitude to the 
 memory of its princes. 
 
 I must not omit that the benevolence of my good 
 
 25 old friend, which flows out towards every one he con- 
 
Xxril] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 131 
 
 verses with, made liim very kind to our interpreter, 
 whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man; for 
 which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, 
 telling him that he should be very glad to see him at 
 his lodgings in Norfolk Buildings, and talk over these 5 
 matters with him more at leisure. 
 
 XXIII. SIR ROGER AT THE THEATRE. 
 
 My friend Sir Eoger de Coverley, when we last met 
 together at the Club, told me that he had a great mind 
 to see the new tragedy° with me, assuring me, at the 
 same time, that he had not been at a play these twenty lo 
 years. ^'The last I saw," said Sir Eoger, "was the 
 *Committee,'° which I should not have gone to neither, 
 had not I been told beforehand that it was a good 
 Church of England comedy.'' He then proceeded to 
 inquire of me who this distressed mother was, and, ^5 
 upon hearing that she was Hector's widow, he told 
 me that her husband was a brave man, and that when 
 he was a school-boy, he had read his life at the end 
 of the dictionary. My friend asked me, in the next 
 place, if there would not be some danger in coming 20 
 home late, in case the Mohocks° should be abroad. 
 "I assure you," says he, "I thought I had fallen into 
 their hands last night, for I observed two or three 
 
132 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxill 
 
 lusty black men that followed me half way up Fleet 
 Street, and mended their pace behind me in propor- 
 tion as I put on to get away from them. You must 
 know," continued the Knight with a smile, '^ I fancied 
 
 5 they had a mind to hunt me, for I remember an honest 
 gentleman in my neighborhood who was served such 
 a trick in King Charles the Second's time; for which 
 reason he has not ventured himself in town ever since. 
 I might have shown them very good sport had this 
 
 10 been their design; for, as I am an old fox-hunter, I 
 should have turned and dodged, and have played them 
 a thousand tricks they had never seen in their lives 
 before." Sir Roger added that if these gentlemen 
 had any such intention they did not succeed very well 
 
 ^5 in it; "for I threw them out," says he, "at the end 
 of Norfolk Street, where I doubled the corner and got 
 shelter in my lodgings before they could imagine what 
 was become of me. However," says the Knight, "if 
 Captain Sentry will make one with us to-morrow 
 
 20 night, and if you will both of you call upon me about 
 four o'clock, that we may be at the house before it is 
 full, I will have my own coach in readiness to attend 
 you, for John tells me he has got the fore wheels 
 mended." 
 
 25 The Captain, who did not fail to meet me there at 
 
XXIII] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 133 
 
 the appointed hour, bid Sir Eoger fear nothing, for 
 that he had put on the same sword which he made use 
 of at the battle of Steenkirk. Sir Eoger's servants, 
 and among the rest my old friend the butler, had, I 
 found, provided themselves with good oaken plants to 5 
 attend their master upon this occasion. When he had 
 placed him in his coach, with myself at his left hand, 
 the Captain before him, and his butler at the head of 
 his footmen in the rear, we convoyed him in safety to 
 the playhouse, where, after having marched up the lo 
 entry in good order, the Captain and I went in with 
 him, and seated him betwixt us in the pit. As soon 
 as the house was full, and the candles lighted, my old 
 friend stood up and looked about him with that pleas- 
 ure which a mind seasoned with humanity naturally ^5 
 feels in itself, at the sight of a multitude of people 
 who seem pleased with one another, and partake of 
 the same common entertainment. I could not but 
 fancy to myself, as the old man stood up in the middle 
 of the pit, that he made a very proper centre to a 20 
 tragic audience. Upon the entering of Pyrrhus, the 
 Knight told me that he did not believe the King of 
 France himself had a better strut. I was, indeed, 
 very attentive to my old friend's remarks, because I 
 looked upon them as a piece of natural criticism; and 25 
 
134 SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS [xxill 
 
 was well pleased to hear him, at the conclusion of 
 almost every scene, telling me that he could not 
 imagine how the play would end. One while he ap- 
 peared much concerned for Andromache ; and a little 
 
 5 while after as much for Hermione; and was extremely 
 puzzled to think what would become of Pyrrhus. 
 
 When Sir Eoger saw Andromache's obstinate refusal 
 to her lover's importunities, he whispered me in the 
 ear, that he was sure she would never have him; to 
 
 10 which he added, with a more than ordinary vehe- 
 mence, "You can't imagine. Sir, what 'tis to have to 
 do with a widow." Upon Pyrrhus his threatening 
 afterwards to leave her, the Knight shook his head, 
 and muttered to himself, "Ay, do if you can." This 
 
 15 part dwelt so much upon my friend's imagination, 
 that at the close of the third act, as I was thinking 
 of something else, he whispered in my ear, "These 
 widows. Sir, are the most perverse creatures in the 
 world. But pray," says he, "you that are a critic, is 
 
 20 this play according to your dramatic rules, as you call 
 
 them? Should your people in tragedy always talk to 
 
 be understood? Why, there is not a single sentence 
 
 in this play that I do not know the meaning of." 
 
 The fourth act very luckily begun before I had time 
 
 25 to give the old gentleman an answer: "Well," says 
 
XXIll] SIR ROGER DE COVE RLE Y PAPERS 135 
 
 the Knight, sitting down with great satisfaction, "I 
 suppose we are now to see Hector's ghost." He then 
 renewed his attention, and, from time to time, fell a 
 praising the widow. He made, indeed, a little mis- 
 take as to one of her pages, whom at his first entering 5 
 he took for Astyanax ; but he quickly set himself right 
 in that particular, though, at the same time, he owned 
 he should have been very glad to have seen the little 
 boy, " who, " says he, " must needs be a very fine child 
 by the account that is given of him." Upon Her- lo 
 mione's going off with a menace to Pyrrhus, the audi- 
 ence gave a loud clap, to which Sir Eoger added, " On 
 my word, a notable young baggage ! " 
 
 As there was a very remarkable silence and stillness 
 in the audience during the whole action, it was natural 15 
 for them to take the opportunity of these intervals 
 between the acts to express their opinion of the players 
 and of their respective parts. Sir Eoger hearing a 
 cluster of them praise Orestes, struck in with them, 
 and told them that he thought his friend Py lades was 20 
 a very sensible man; as they were afterwards applaud- 
 ing Pyrrhus, Sir Eoger put in a second time: "And 
 let me tell you," says he, " though he speaks but little, 
 I like the old fellow in whiskers as well as any of 
 them." Captain Sentry seeing two or three wags, 25 
 
136 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xxill 
 
 who sat near us, lean with an attentive ear towards 
 Sir Eoger, and fearing lest they should smoke the 
 Knight, plucked him by the elbow, and whispered 
 something in his ear, that lasted till the opening of 
 
 5 the fifth act. The Knight was wonderfully attentive 
 to the account which Orestes gives of Pyrrhus his death, 
 and at the conclusion of it, told me it was such a bloody 
 piece of work that he was glad it was not done upon 
 the stage. Seeing afterwards Orestes in his raving fit, 
 
 10 he grew more than ordinary serious, and took occasion 
 to moralize (in his way) upon an evil conscience, add- 
 ing, that Orestes, in his madness, looked as if he saw 
 something. 
 
 As we were the first that came into the house, so we 
 
 15 were the last that went out of it; being resolved to 
 have a clear passage for our old friend, whom we did 
 not care to venture among the jostling of the crowd. 
 Sir Eoger went out fully satisfied with his entertain- 
 ment, and we guarded him to his lodgings in the same 
 
 20 manner that we brought him to the playhouse ; being 
 highly pleased, for my own part, not only with the 
 performance of the excellent piece which had been 
 presented, but with the satisfaction which it had given 
 to the good old man. 
 
XXI v] SIM ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 137 
 
 XXIV. WILL HONEYCOMB'S LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 As we were at the Club last night, I observed that 
 my friend Sir Roger, contrary to his usual custom, 
 sat very silent, and instead of minding what was said 
 by the company, was whistling to himself in a very 
 thoughtful mood, and playing with a cork. I jogged 5 
 Sir Andrew Freeport, who sat between us ; and as we 
 were both observing him, we saw the Knight shake 
 his head, and heard him say to himself, " A foolish 
 woman ! I can't believe it." Sir Andrew gave him a 
 gentle pat upon the shoulder, and offered to lay him a lo 
 bottle of wine that he was thinking of the Widow. 
 My old friend started, and recovering out of his brown 
 study, told Sir Andrew that once in his life he had 
 been in the right. In short, after some little hesita- 
 tion. Sir Roger told us in the fulness of his heart, that 15 
 he had just received a letter from his steward, which 
 acquainted him that his old rival and antagonist in 
 the county. Sir David Dundrum, had been making a 
 visit to the Widow. '^ However," says Sir Roger, " I 
 can never think that she'll have a man that's half a 20 
 year older than I am, and a noted Republican into the 
 bargain." 
 
 Will Honeycomb, who looks upon love as his par- 
 
138 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xxiV 
 
 ticular province, interrupting our friend with a jaunty 
 laugh; "I thought, Knight/' says he, "thou hadst 
 lived long enough in the world not to pin thy happi- 
 ness upon one that is a woman and a widow. I think 
 
 5 that without vanity I may pretend to know as much 
 of the female world as any man in Great Britain, 
 though the chief of my knowledge consists in this, 
 that they are not to be known.'' Will immediately, 
 with his usual fluency, rambled into an account of his 
 
 10 own amours. " I am now," says he, " upon the verge 
 of fifty " (though, by the way, we all knew he w^as 
 turned of threescore). "You may easily guess," con- 
 tinued Will, "that I have not lived so long in the 
 world without having had some thoughts of settling 
 
 15 in it, as the phrase is. To tell you truly, I have sev- 
 eral times tried my fortune that way, though I can't 
 much boast of my success. 
 
 " I made my first addresses to a young lady in the 
 country ; but when I thought things were pretty well 
 
 20 drawing to a conclusion, her father happening to hear 
 
 that I had formerly boarded with a surgeon, the old 
 
 put° forbid me his house, and within a fortnight after 
 
 married his daughter to a fox-hunter in the neighborhood. 
 
 " I made my next applications to a widow, and at- 
 
 25 tacked her so briskly, that I thought myself within 
 
XXI v] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 139 
 
 a fortnight of her. As I waited upon her one morn- 
 ing, she told me that she intended to keep her ready 
 money and jointure in her own hand, and desired me 
 to call upon her attorney in Lyon's Inn, who would 
 adjust with me what it was proper for me to add to 5 
 it. I was so rebuffed by this overture, that I never 
 inquired either for her or her attorney afterwards. 
 
 "A few months after I addressed myself to a young 
 lady who was an only daughter, and of a good family : 
 I danced with her at several balls, squeezed her by 10 
 the hand, said soft things to her, and, in short, made 
 no doubt of her heart ; and, though my fortune was 
 not equal to hers, I was in hopes that her fond father 
 would not deny her the man she had fixed her affec- 
 tions upon. But as I went one day to the house in 15 
 order to break the matter to him, I found the whole 
 family in confusion, and heard, to my unspeakable 
 surprise, that Miss Jenny was that very morning run 
 away with the butler. 
 
 " I then courted a second widow, and am at a loss 20 
 to this day how I came to miss her, for she had often 
 commended my person and behavior. Her maid, in- 
 deed, told me one day that her mistress had said she 
 never saw a gentleman with such a spindle pair of legs 
 as Mr. Honeycomb. 25 
 
140 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS [xxiV 
 
 "After this I laid siege to four heiresses succes- 
 sively, and being a handsome young dog in those days, 
 quickly made a breach in their hearts; but I don't 
 know how it came to pass, though I seldom failed of 
 
 5 getting the daughters' consent, I could never in my 
 life get the old people on my side. 
 
 " I could give you an account of a thousand other 
 unsuccessful attempts, particularly of one which I 
 made some years since upon an old woman, whom I 
 
 10 had certainly borne away with flying colors, if her 
 relations had not come pouring in to her assistance 
 from all parts of England; nay, I believe I should 
 have got her at last, had she not been carried off by 
 an hard frost." 
 
 15 As Will's transitions are extremely quick, he turned 
 from Sir Eoger, and, applying himself to me, told me 
 there was a passage in the book° I had considered 
 last Saturday, which deserved to be writ in letters of 
 gold ; and taking out a pocket Milton, read the f ollow- 
 
 20 ing lines,° which are part of one of Adam's speeches 
 to Eve after the fall : — 
 
 • Oh ! why did God, 
 Creator wise, that peopled highest heav'n 
 With spirits masculine, create at last 
 ^5 This novelty on earth, this fair defect 
 
XXV] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 141 
 
 Of Nature, and not fill the world at once 
 
 With men, as angels, without feminine, 
 
 Or find some other way to generate 
 
 Mankind ? This mischief had not then befall'n, 
 
 And more that shall befall ; innumerable 5 
 
 Disturbances on earth through female snares, 
 
 And straight conjunction with this sex : for either 
 
 He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
 
 As some misfortune brings him, or mistake : 
 
 Or, whom he wishes most shall seldom gain, 10 
 
 Through her perverseness ; but shall see her gain'd 
 
 By a far worse ; or if she love, withheld 
 
 By parents ; or his happiest choice too late 
 
 Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock bound 
 
 To a fell adversary, his hate or shame ; 15 
 
 Which infinite calamity shall cause 
 
 To human life, and household peace confound. ° 
 
 Sir Eoger listened to this passage with great atten- 
 tion, and desiring Mr. Honeycomb to fold down a leaf 
 at the place, and lend him his book, the Knight put 20 
 it up in his pocket, and told us that he would read 
 over those verses again before he went to bed. 
 
 XXV. SIR ROGER AT VAUXHALL GARDENS. 
 
 As I was sitting in my chamber and thinking on a 
 subject for my next "Spectator," I heard two or three 
 irregular bounces at my landlady's door, and upon the 25 
 
142 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxv 
 
 opening of it, a loud cheerful voice inquiring whether 
 the philosopher was at home. The child who went 
 to the door answered very innocently, that he did not 
 lodge there. I immediately recollected that it was 
 
 5 my good friend Sir Eoger's voice; and that I had 
 promised to go with him on the water to Spring Gar- 
 den, in case it proved a good evening. The Knight 
 put me in mind of my promise from the bottom of the 
 staircase, but told me that if I was speculating he 
 
 lo would stay below till I had done. Upon my coming 
 down, I found all the children of the family got about 
 my old friend, and my landlady herself, who is a 
 notable prating gossip, engaged in a conference with 
 him, being mightily pleased with his stroking her 
 
 15 little boy upon the head, and bidding him be a good 
 child, and mind his book. 
 
 We were no sooner come to the Temple Stairs, but 
 we were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offer- 
 ing us their respective services. Sir Eoger, after 
 
 20 having looked about him very attentively, spied one 
 with a wooden leg, and immediately gave him orders 
 to get his boat ready. As we were walking towards 
 it, "You must know,'' says Sir Eoger, "I never make 
 use of anybody to row me, that has not either lost a 
 
 25 leg or an arm. I would rather bate him a few strokes 
 
XXV] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 143 
 
 of his oar than not employ an honest man that has 
 been wounded in the Queen's service. If I was a 
 lord or a bishop, and kept a barge, I would not put a 
 fellow in my livery that had not a wooden leg." 
 
 My old friend, after having seated himself, and 5 
 trimmed the boat with his coachman, who, being a 
 very sober man, always serves for ballast on these oc- 
 casions, we made the best of our way for Vauxhall.° 
 Sir Eoger obliged the waterman to give us the history 
 of his right leg, and hearing that he had left it at La 10 
 Hogue, with many particulars which passed in that 
 glorious action, the Knight, in the triumph of his 
 heart, made several reflections on the greatness of the 
 British nation; as, that one Englishman could beat 
 three Frenchmen; that we could never be in danger 15 
 of Popery so long as we took care of our fleet; that 
 the Thames was the noblest river in Europe; that 
 London Bridge was a greater piece of work than any 
 of the seven wonders of the world : with many other 
 honest prejudices which naturally cleave to the heart 20 
 of a true Englishman. 
 
 After some short pause, the old Knight turning 
 about his head twice or thrice, to take a survey of this 
 great Metropolis, bid me observe how thick the city 
 was set with churches, and that there was scarce a 25 
 
144 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxv 
 
 single steeple on this side Temple Bar. "A most 
 heathenish sight!" says Sir Eoger; "there is no re- 
 ligion at this end of the town. The fifty new 
 churches° will very much mend the prospect; but 
 
 5 church work is slow, church work is slow! " 
 
 I da not remember I have anywhere mentioned, in 
 Sir Eoger's character, his custom of saluting every- 
 body that passes by him with a good-morrow or a 
 good-night. This the old man does out of the over- 
 
 10 flowings of his humanity, though at the same time it 
 renders him so popular among all his country neigh- 
 bors, that it is thought to have gone a good way in 
 making him once or twice knight of the shire. He 
 cannot forbear this exercise of benevolence even in 
 
 15 town, when he meets with any one in his morning or 
 evening walk. It broke from him to several boats 
 
 \ that passed by us upon the water; but to the Knight's 
 great surprise, as he gave the good-night to two or 
 three young fellows a little before our landing, one of 
 
 20 them, instead of returning the civility, asked us what 
 queer old put we had in the boat, with a great deal 
 of the like Thames ribaldry. Sir Eoger seemed a little 
 shocked at first, but at length, assuming a face of 
 magistracy, told us that if he were a Middlesex jus- 
 
 25 tice, he would make such vagrants know that Her 
 
XXV] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 145 
 
 Majesty's subjects were no more to be abused by water 
 than by land. 
 
 We were now arrived at Spring Garden, which is 
 exquisitely pleasant at this time of year. When I 
 considered the fragrancy of the walks and bowers, 5 
 with the choirs of birds that sang upon the trees, and 
 the loose tribe of people that walked under their 
 shades, I could not but look upon the place as a kind 
 of Mahometan paradise. Sir Koger told me it put 
 him in mind of a little coppice by his house in the 10 
 country, which his chaplain used to call an aviary of 
 nightingales. "You must understand,'' says the 
 Knight, " there is nothing in the world that pleases 
 a man in love so much as your nightingale. Ah, Mr. 
 Spectator! the many moonlight nights that I have 15 
 walked by myself, and thought on the Widow by the 
 music of the nightingales ! " He here fetched a deep 
 sigh, and was falling into a fit of musing, when a 
 mask, who came behind him, gave him a gentle tap 
 upon the shoulder, and asked him if he would drink 20 
 a bottle of mead with her. But the Knight being 
 startled at so unexpected a familiarity, and displeased 
 to be interrupted in his thoughts of the Widow, told 
 her she was a wanton baggage, and bid her go about 
 her business. 25 
 
146 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxvi 
 
 We concluded our walk with a glass of Burton ale 
 and a slice of hung beef. When we had done eating 
 ourselves, the Knight called a waiter to him, and bid 
 him carry the remainder to the waterman that had 
 but one leg. I perceived the fellow stared upon him 
 at the oddness of the message, and was going to be 
 saucy; upon which I ratified the Knight's commands 
 with a peremptory look. 
 
 XXVI. DEATH OF SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY.° 
 
 We last night received a piece of ill news at our 
 
 13 Club, which very sensibly afilicted every one of us. 
 
 I question not but my readers themselves will be 
 
 troubled at the hearing of it. To keep them no longer 
 
 in suspense. Sir Eoger de Coverley is dead. He 
 
 departed this life at his house in the country, after 
 
 15 a few weeks' sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a 
 
 letter from one of his correspondents in those parts, 
 
 that informs him the old man caught a cold at the 
 
 County-Sessions, as he was very warmly promoting an 
 
 address of his own penning, in which he succeeded 
 
 20 according to his wishes. But this particular comes 
 
 from a Whig-Justice of Peace, who was always Sir 
 
 Eoger's enemy and antagonist. I have letters both 
 
XXVl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS 147 
 
 from the cliaplam and Captain Sentry which mention 
 nothing of it, but are filled with many particulars to 
 the honor of the good old man. I have likewise a 
 letter from the butler, who took so much care of me 
 last summer when I was at the Knight's house. As 5 
 my friend the butler mentions, in the simplicity 
 of his heart, several circumstances the others have 
 passed over in silence, I shall give my reader a copy 
 of his letter, without any alteration or diminution. 
 
 " Honoured Sir, 10 
 
 " Knowing that you was my old Master's good 
 Eriend, I could not forbear sending you the melan- 
 choly News of his Death, which has afflicted the 
 whole Country, as well as his poor Servants, who 
 loved him, I may say, better than we did our Lives. 15 
 I am afraid he caught his Death the last County Ses- 
 sions, where he would go to see Justice done to a poor 
 Widow Woman, and her Fatherless Children, that had 
 been wronged by a neighbouring Gentleman ; for you 
 know. Sir, my good Master was always the poor Man's 20 
 Friend. Upon his coming home, the first Complaint 
 he made was, that he had lost his Eoast-Beef Stomach, 
 not being able to touch a Sirloin, which was served up 
 according to Custom ; and you know he used to take 
 
148 SIR ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxvi 
 
 great Delight in it. From that time forward he grew 
 worse and worse, but still kept a good Heart to the 
 last. Indeed we were once in great Hope of his Ee- 
 covery, upon a kind Message that was sent him from 
 
 5 the Widow Lady whom he had made love to the Forty 
 last Years of his Life ; but this only proved a Lighten- 
 ing before Death. He has bequeathed to this Lady, 
 as a token of his Love, a great Pearl Necklace, and a 
 Couple of Silver Bracelets set with Jewels, which be- 
 
 10 longed to my good old Lady his Mother : He has be- 
 queathed the fine white Gelding, that he used to ride 
 a hunting upon, to his Chaplain, because he thought 
 he would be kind to him, and has left you all his 
 Books. He has, moreover, bequeathed to the Chap- 
 
 15 lain a very pretty Tenement with good Lands about 
 it. It being a very cold Day when he made his Will, 
 he left for Mourning, to every Man in the Parish, a 
 great Frize-Coat, and to every Woman a black Eiding- 
 hood. It was a most moving Sight to see him take 
 
 20 leave of his poor Servants, commending us all for our 
 Fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a Word for 
 weeping. As we most of us are grown Gray-headed 
 in our Dear Master's Service, he has left us Pensions 
 and Legacies, which we may live very comfortably 
 
 25 upon, the remaining part of our Days. He has be- 
 
XXVl] SIR ROGER BE COVERLET PAPERS 149 
 
 queath'd a great deal more in Charity, which is not 
 yet come to my Knowledge, and it is peremptorily 
 said in the Parish, that he has left Mony to build a 
 Steeple to the Church ; for he was heard to say some 
 time ago, that if he lived two Years longer, Coverly 5 
 Church should have a Steeple to it. The Chaplain 
 tells every body that he made a very good End, and 
 never speaks of him without Tears. He was buried, 
 according to his own Directions, among the Family of 
 the Coverly^ s, on the Left Hand of his father Sir Arthur. 10 
 The Coffin was carried by Six of his Tenants, and the 
 Pall held up by Six of the Quorum : The whole Parish 
 followed the Corps with heavy Hearts, and in their 
 Mourning Suits, the Men in Prize, and the Women in 
 Riding-Hoods. Captain Sentry, my Master's Nephew, 15 
 has taken Possession of the Hall-House, and the whole 
 Estate. When my old Master saw him a little before 
 his Death, he shook him by the Hand, and wished him 
 Joy of the Estate which was falling to him, desiring 
 him only to make good Use of it, and to pay the several 20 
 Legacies, and the Gifts of Charity which he told him 
 he had left as Quitrents upon the Estate. The Cap- 
 tain truly seems a courteous Man, though he says but 
 little. He makes much of those whom my Master 
 loved, and shows great Kindness to the old House-dog, 25 
 
150 SIE ROGER DE COVERLET PAPERS [xxvi 
 
 that you know my poor Master was so fond of. It 
 would have gone to your Heart to have heard the 
 Moans the dumb Creature made on the Day of my 
 Master's Death. He has ne'er joyed himself since ; 
 
 5 no more has any of us. 'Twas the melancholiest Day 
 for the poor People that ever happened in Worcester- 
 shire, This being all from, 
 " Honoured Sir, 
 " Your most Sorrowful Servant, 
 
 10 " Edward Biscuit. 
 
 " P. S. My Master desired, some Weeks before he 
 died, that a Book which comes up to you by the Carrier 
 should be given to Sir Andrew Freejjort, in his Name.'' 
 
 This letter, notwithstanding the poor butler's man- 
 13 ner of writing it, gave us such an idea of our good old 
 friend, that upon the reading of it there was not a dry 
 eye in the Club. Sir Andrew opening the book, found 
 it to be a collection of Acts of Parliament. There 
 was in particular the Act of Uniformity, with some 
 20 passages in it marked by Sir Eoger's own hand. Sir 
 Andrew found that they related to two or three points, 
 which he had disputed with Sir Eoger the last time he 
 appeared at the Club. Sir Andrew, who would have 
 
XXVl] SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY PAPERS 151 
 
 been merry at such an incident on another occasion, 
 at the sight of the old man's hand-writing burst into 
 tears, and put the book into his pocket. Captain 
 Sentry informs me, that the Knight has left rings 
 and mourning for every one in the Club. 
 
CONTRIBUTOES TO THE SPECTATOR 
 
 Many people besides Addison and Steele wrote at various 
 
 times for the Spectator. A list of names, with number of 
 essays contributed, is here given : — 
 
 Addison 276 
 
 Steele 249 
 
 Budgell . . ... . . .35 
 
 Hughes . . 10 
 
 Byrom 6 
 
 Grove 4 
 
 Pearce 2 
 
 Tickell 2 
 
 Parnell 2 
 
 Pope 2 
 
 Henley ........ 1 
 
 Barr ........ 1 
 
 Francham 1 
 
 Anonymous papers 46 
 
 Total 636 
 
 163 
 
AIDS TO THE STUDY OF THE DE COVEE- 
 LEY PAPEES 
 
 FOR USE OF TEACHERS AND PUPILS 
 
 Life of Richard Steele. Austin Dobson. 
 
 Life of Joseph Addison. W. J. Courthope. 
 
 Essay on Addison. T. B. Macaulay. 
 
 Essays of Joseph Addison. Edited by J. R. Green. 
 
 The Spectator. Edited by Henry Morley. 
 
 Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne. John Ashton. 
 
 Literary Landmarks of London. Laurence Hutton. 
 
 English Lands, Letters, and Kings. Donald G. Mitchell. 
 
 FOR USE OF TEACHERS 
 
 Sir Richard Steele (Vol. 11.). John Forster. 
 Selections from Steele. Edited by Austin Dobson. 
 Selections from Addison. Edited by T. Arnold. 
 Lives of English Poets. Samuel Johnson. 
 Introduction to English Literature. Henry S. Pancoast. 
 History of Eighteenth Century Literature. Edmund Gosse. 
 Manual of English Literature. Thomas Arnold. 
 English Literature in the Eighteenth Century. Thos. S. Perry. 
 English Literature. Stopford A. Brooke. 
 Reign of Queen Anne (Vol. L). P. H. Stanhope. 
 History of Henry Esmond. Wm. M. Thackeray. 
 The English Humorists. Wm. M. Thackeray. 
 Short History of English Literature. George Saintsbury. 
 
 164 
 
NOTES 
 
 The aim of these notes is not to take the place of the teacher, 
 nor to deprive the pupil of the benefits of thinking. The in- 
 tention is to give only those explanations that may be difficult to 
 obtain, and which the pupil should know before coming to class ; 
 therefore all matter is avoided which tends to lead away from 
 the immediate subject under consideration. It is left to the 
 teacher to use his own discretion in estimating the advisability 
 of dwelling on grammatical errors and peculiar expressions in 
 use during Addison's time. 
 
 PAPER No. I. 
 
 Although Addison is describing an imaginary character, yet 
 the likeness to himself is apparent. The student should trace 
 points of similarity. 
 
 Page 3, line 7. learned tongues. Latin and Greek. 
 
 Page 3, line 17. controversies of some great men. Allusion 
 to a work, Pyramidographia^ or a Discourse of the Pyramids of 
 Egypt^ by a Persian scholar named John Greaves. (See Diction- 
 ary of National Biography^ Vol. XXIII., for life of Greaves.) 
 
 165 
 
156 NOTES 
 
 Page 4, line 5. Will's. Coffee-house named from its proprie- 
 tor, William Urwin. It included two buildings in Covent Gar- 
 den, one facing Bow Street and the adjoining one Russell Street. 
 Its popularity began when Dryden frequented it, and was de- 
 clining in Spectator's time, although it was still the gathering 
 place for literary men. 
 
 Page 4, line 8. Child's. Coffee-house which stood in St. 
 Paul's Churchyard, but the exact location is not known. It was 
 frequented by physicians, philosophers, and clergy. 
 
 Page 4, line 9. Postman. A penny paper which was very 
 popular at that time. It was edited by a Frenchman, M. Fonvive. 
 
 Page 4, line 11. St. James's coffee-house. On St. James 
 Street overlooking Pall Mall. Here Whig politicians congregated, 
 and here Swift " became a notable figure." (See Henry Craik's 
 Life of Swift, Chap. V.) This building was removed in 1806. 
 
 Page 4, line 14. Grecian. This coffee-house — one of the 
 oldest in London — was frequented by lawyers and scholars, 
 and was the scene of many learned disputes. The site, in 
 Devereux Court, Strand, is now marked by Eldon Chambers. 
 
 Page 4, line 14. Cocoa-Tree. Chocolate-house as distinc- 
 tively Tory as the St. James was Whig. It was located at 
 No. 64, St. James Street, Piccadilly, and is still standing. 
 
 Page 4, line 19. Jonathan's. Coffee-house in Change Alley, 
 where the lower class of stock-jobbers were found. 
 
 Page 5, line 23. print myself out. Put my thoughts and 
 opinions on paper. 
 
 Page 7, line 11. Little Britain. Small neighborhood in cen- 
 
J}^OTES 157 
 
 tre of London, just east of Christ's Hospital. It was called Lit- 
 tle Britain because it was formerly the residence of the Dukes 
 of Brittany. In the early part of the seventeenth century it 
 was a favorite mart for booksellers. (For further information 
 see ''Little Britain," Irving's Sketch Book. New York: Sil- 
 ver, Burdett & Co., 1896.) 
 
 PAPER No. II. 
 
 These characters represent typical men of the times, and it 
 is not worth while to inquire what particular persons Addison 
 may have had in mind. It is mere conjecture, at most. 
 
 Page 7, line 20. country-dance. In this dance partners, 
 ranged in rows, face each other and in couples dance down the line 
 and back to places. It is somewhat similar to the Virginia reel. 
 
 Page 8, line 9. Soho Square. South side of Oxford Street, 
 was then the centre of fashionable life. It now marks the 
 eastern limit of the social world of London. 
 
 Page 8, line 12. fine gentleman. Notice the qualities which 
 entitled him to the term. 
 
 Page 8, line 14. Lord Rochester and Sir George Etherege. 
 
 Dissolute wits of the time. The latter was then well known as 
 a dramatist, but to us his greatest merit consists in his being 
 the originator of ' ' the school of prose comedy, which reached 
 its highest point in Congreve and ended with Sheridan." (For 
 further information see Introduction to Works of Sir George 
 Etherege, by A. Wilson Verity. London : John C. Nimmo, 
 14 King William Street, Strand, 1888.) 
 
158 NOTES 
 
 Page 8, line 15. Bully Dawson. A man of low morality 
 who aped the higher classes and tried to get into their society. 
 
 Page 9, line 13. Game-Act. Poaching was so common that 
 it was necessary to pass laws for the preservation of game. 
 
 Page 9, line 16. Inner Temple. One of the four Inns occu- 
 pied by legal societies which have the exclusive right of calling 
 candidates to the bar. It is called Inner Temple to distinguish it 
 from the Middle and the Outer Temples. The fourth of these 
 "Inns of Court" is called Gray's Inn. They are all situated 
 in what is called "The City," a tract between the " East End " 
 and the " West End." (Instead of Outer Temple, Lincoln's 
 Inn now makes the third. ) 
 
 Page 9, line 23. Aristotle and Longinus were versed in art ; 
 Littleton and Coke in law. 
 
 Page 10, line 9. wit. Intellectual ability. 
 
 Page 10, line 18. Plays began at five or six o'clock in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Page 10, line 22. Rose. A tavern in Russell Street, near 
 Drury Lane Theatre, and consequently much visited by 
 play-goers. 
 
 Page 12, line 4. Captain Sentry. See Spectator^ No. 517. 
 
 Page 15, line 17. chamber-counsellor. A chamber-counsellor 
 gives advice only in private. 
 
 PAPER No. III. 
 Page 17, line 7. Lincoln' s-Inn-Fields. A square or garden 
 on the south side of High Ilolborn Street, not far from the Inner 
 and the Middle Temples. It was the scene of much lawlessness 
 
NOTES 159 
 
 and rioting till 1735, when it was railed off and became more 
 reputable. Now it is a fine park, with imposing buildings 
 fronting it. 
 
 Page 19, line 4. Sir Richard Blackmore says, etc. Addison 
 quotes from Sir Richard Blackmore's poem, The Creation^ which 
 at that time was unpublished. 
 
 PAPER No. IV. 
 
 Page 23, line 16. province for satire. A theme which fur- 
 nishes to the writer abundant material for the exercise of his wit. 
 
 Page 23, line 19. HoracCf Juvenal, Boileau. Three satirical 
 poets. Horace ((35 b.c.-8 a.d.) and Juvenal (60-140 a.d.) were 
 Romans; Boileau (1636-1711) a Frenchman. 
 
 Page 27, line 1. Punch. Any man who places himself be- 
 fore the public. Punch was the chief character in the puppet 
 show Punch and Judy. (See use of "Punchinello" in Spec- 
 tator^ No. 14.) 
 
 PAPER No. V. 
 
 See Macaulay's History of England, Vol. I., Chap. III., for 
 account of country gentlemen and country clergy. 
 
 Page 31, line 18. present of all the good sermons. It was a 
 common practice of the clergy to read sermons written by other 
 people. 
 
 PAPER No. VI. 
 
 Page 35, line 13. so good an husband. So economical. 
 
 Page 37, line 21. the dress. Indication of service. 
 
160 NOTES 
 
 PAPER No. VII. 
 
 Page 89, line 12. younger brother to a baronet. The oldest 
 son always inherited the estate of his father ; and the younger 
 sons of the nobility, not supposed to transact business, were de- 
 pendent for a living upon the generosity of their relatives. (See 
 Tatler, 256. 
 
 Page 39, line 20. makes a may-fly. Artificial fly used in 
 fishing. 
 
 Page 40, line 2. carries a tulip-root. The mania for tulips, 
 which was carried to so great an extent in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury, still existed in a mild form. « 
 
 Page 41, line 23. quail-pipe. Pipe blown to call or attract 
 quails. 
 
 PAPER No. VIII. 
 
 Page 43, line 14. human. Distinguished from divine. 
 
 Page 44, line 7. 'Change. Exchange. Place where business 
 is transacted. 
 
 PAPER No. IX. 
 
 Page 48, line 20. carve her name. (See As You Like It, 
 Act III.) 
 
 Page 65, line 11. Martial. A Latin poet, born 43 a.d. 
 
 Page 55, line 12. Dum tacet hanc loquitur. While he is silent 
 he is speaking of her. 
 
 PAPER No. XI. 
 
 Johnson says that although this paper was written by Budgell, 
 Addison corrected and rewrote it. 
 
NOTES 161 
 
 Page 62, line 3. Bastile. A noted prison in Paris. Dur- 
 ing the French Revolution it was torn down by the infuriated 
 mob. Some time afterward the huge key was presented by 
 Lafayette to George Washington, and it may now be seen at 
 Mt. Vernon. (For further information see Bingham's Bastille. 
 London : Chapman & Hall, 1888.) 
 
 Page 67, line 24. Monsieur Pascal. A celebrated French 
 writer of the seventeenth century. 
 
 In connection with this paper read Charles Dudley Warner's 
 A' Hunting of the Deer. 
 
 PAPER No. XII. 
 
 Witchcraft had lost its hold on the minds of educated people, 
 but the belief still prevailed among ignorant ones. The last 
 person tried, found guilty, and condemned to capital punish- 
 ment was Jane Wenham, and she was finally pardoned. Her 
 trial occurred in 1712. 
 
 PAPER No. XIII. 
 
 Was there anything in Addison's own experience that would 
 enable him to understand Sir Roger's feeling for the widow ? 
 
 PAPER No. XIV. 
 
 Page 85, line 9. For description of head-dress see Spectator, 
 No. 98. 
 
 PAPER No. XV. 
 
 Page 86, line 20. within the Game-Act. No person possess- 
 ing less than forty pounds a year was allowed to shoot game. 
 
162 NOTES 
 
 Page 87, line 13. has cast. Defeated in a lawsuit. 
 
 Page 87, line 15. going upon the old business of the 
 willow-tree. Tom Touchy was probably going to the county 
 assizes to continue a long-standing lawsuit involving a willow 
 tree. 
 
 Page 90, line 14. Saracen's Head. The English took pleas- 
 ure in picturing the Saracens with ugly faces. 
 
 PAPEE No. XVI. 
 
 Page 92, line 23. particular. Individual. 
 
 Page 93, line 10. Plutarch. A Greek writer living in first 
 century a.d. His best known work is his Parallel Lives of 
 Greeks and Romans. 
 
 Page 93, line 19. great rule. Luke vi. 27-32. 
 
 Page 95, line 21. Guelphs and Ghibellines. The Guelphs 
 claimed that the Popes, the spiritual heads, should also be at the 
 head in temporal affairs ; the Ghibellines demanded the suprem- 
 acy of the emperors ; and for three centuries during the Middle 
 Ages the two factions involved Germany and Italy in a disastrous 
 struggle. (See "House of Hohenstaufen " in a.uj History of 
 the Middle Ages. ) 
 
 Page 95, line 23. the League. The " Catholic League " (1576) 
 formed "to uphold the Catholic Church; to suppress heresy; 
 and to maintain the honor, the authority, and prerogatives of 
 the most Christian king and his successors." (See History for 
 Beady Beferenee, Vol. IL, p. 1206.) 
 
NOTES 163 
 
 PAPER No. XVII. 
 
 Page 99, line 2. Cassandra. A prophetess, daughter of 
 Priam. Apollo, angry with her, commanded people not to be- 
 lieve her predictions. 
 
 Page 99, line 12. line of life. Line in the hand called the 
 life line. 
 
 PAPER No. XVIII. 
 
 Page 104, line 18. " White Witch. " Distinction was usually- 
 made between the white and the black witch. The white, or 
 good witch, helped to prevent or cure diseases in men or beasts ; 
 the black, or bad one, caused them. 
 
 Page 107, line 7. Commonwealth's men. Addison here 
 means men who are tired of the rule of one person and wish 
 for a government by the people. 
 
 PAPER No. XIX. 
 
 Page 111, line 19. right we had of taking place. Roads 
 were often so bad that one team must stop before another could 
 pass. The rule was that the one going to London should have 
 right of way, and the one coming from the city must turn 
 aside. 
 
 PAPER No. XX. 
 
 Page 113, line 10. Ramage de la Ville. Warblers of the town. 
 Page 113, line 21. crack. Crank. 
 
 Page 114, line 14. Cries of London. The streets were alive 
 with the numerous cries of the venders of food, old clothes, 
 
164 NOTES 
 
 household articles, ranging from "Delicate cowcumbers to 
 pickle" to "Maids, buy a Mopp." (See Ashton's Social Life 
 in the Beign of Queen Aiine^ Chap. XXXV.) 
 
 Page 114, line 16. freeman. One who has the right to sell 
 his goods. 
 
 Page 115, line 7. note above ela. Above A. 
 
 PAPER No. XXI. 
 
 Page 120, line 12. Prince Eugenio. A celebrated Austrian 
 general, who distinguished himself during the war of the Spanish 
 succession (1701-1714). (See Gardiner's Studenfs History of 
 England, Chap. XLIV.) 
 
 Page 120, line 14. Scanderbeg. An Albanian commander 
 of the fifteenth century. 
 
 Page 123, line 11. securing the Church of England. By re- 
 quiring all holders of office under the crown to belong to the 
 Church of England. 
 
 Page 124, line 1. Procession. To show opposition to the 
 Catholic religion the Pope's head in effigy was carried in the 
 procession. 
 
 Page 125, line 2. Supplement. Extra edition. 
 
 PAPER No. XXII. 
 Page 125, line 14. the tombs. (See Spectator, No. 26.) 
 Page 126, line 19. sickness being at Dantzic. Great plague 
 of 1709. 
 
NOTES 165 
 
 Page 128, line 4. Sir Cloudesley Shovel. An English 
 admiral. 
 
 Page 128, line 8. Busby. Richard Busby, an English in- 
 structor of the seventeenth century. 
 
 Page 128, line 18. Cecil. Lord Burleigh. 
 
 Page 128, line 20. figure. Statue of Elizabeth Russell. Story 
 referred to is not authentic. 
 
 Page 129, line 4. coronation chairs. There are two. The 
 old coronation chair was made for Edward I. ; the new one was 
 made in 1689 for Queen Mary. The English monarchs are all 
 crowned in the old coronation chair. 
 
 Page 130, line 2. evil. King's evil, or scrofula. "Anne 
 was the last of a long line of sovereigns, from Edward the Con- 
 fessor, who exercised the supposed royal gift of healing." 
 (See Ashton's Social Life in the Beign of Queen Anne.) 
 
 Page 130, line 16. Sir Richard Baker. An English writer of 
 the seventeenth century, author of Chronicle of the Kings of 
 England. (See Encyclopoedia Britannica, Vol. III.) 
 
 PAPER No. XXIII. 
 
 Page 131, line 9. new tragedy. The Distressed Mother, by 
 Ambrose Philips. 
 
 Page 131, line 12. Gommittee. Play by Sir Robert Howard. 
 
 Page 131, line 21. Mohocks. A lawless gang who made it 
 their business to be on the streets assaulting people and destroy- 
 ing movable property. Ashton says the name probably came 
 
166 NOTES 
 
 from the North American Indians. (See essay No. 324 in 
 Spectator.) 
 
 PAPER No. XXIV. 
 
 Page 138, line 22. old put. FooUsh or clownish fellow. 
 
 Page 140, line 17. book. Paradise Lost, which Addison had 
 been criticising. 
 
 Page 140, line 20. lines. Paradise Lost, Book X., 888-908. 
 
 PAPER No. XXV. 
 
 Page 143, line 8. Vauxhall. Vauxhall Gardens, sometimes 
 called Spring Garden, was a pleasure resort on the Thames 
 River. It is now built over. 
 
 Page 144, line 4. fifty new churches. These were built by 
 Act of Parliament. 
 
 PAPER No. XXVI. 
 
 Eustace Budgell in the Bee (February, 1773) said of Sir Roger 
 de Coverley , ' ' Mr. Addison was so fond of this character that a 
 little before he laid down the Spectator (foreseeing that some 
 nimble gentleman would catch up his pen the moment he quitted 
 it), he said to an intimate friend, with a certain warmth in his 
 expression which he was not often guilty of, ' I'll kill Sir Roger, 
 that nobody else may murder him.' " 
 
BOOKS PRESCRIBED FOR COLLEGE 
 ENTRANCE EXAMINATIONS. 
 
 For Reading, 
 
 Cooper — Last of the Mohicans. 
 Dryden — Palamon and Arcite. 
 Addison — Sir Roger de Coverley. 
 Goldsmith — Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Coleridge — Ancient Mariner. 
 De Quincey — Revolt of the Tartars. 
 Pope — Iliad, Books I., VI., XXII., 
 XXIV. 
 
 1899. 
 
 For Study. 
 
 Shakespeare — Macbeth. 
 
 Milton — Paradise Lost, Books I. 
 and II. 
 
 Burke — Speech on Conciliation. 
 
 Carlyle— Essay on Burns. 
 
 For Reading, 
 
 1900. 
 
 Tennyson — The Princess. 
 
 Scott — Ivanhoe. 
 
 De Quincey — Revolt of the Tartars. 
 
 Pope — Iliad, Books I., VI., XXII., 
 
 XXIV. 
 Cooper — Last of the Mohicans. 
 Dryden — Palamon and Arcite. 
 Addison — Sir Roger de Coverley. 
 Goldsmith — Vicar of Wakefield. 
 
 For Study, 
 
 Macaulay — Essays on Milton and 
 
 Addison. 
 Burke — Speech on Conciliation. 
 Shakespeare — Macbeth. 
 Milton — Paradise Lost, Books I. 
 
 and II. 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK, 
 
BOOKS PRESCRIBED FOR COLLEGE 
 ENTRANCE EXAMINATIONS. 
 
 For Reading. 
 
 1901. 
 
 Eliot — Silas Marner. 
 
 Shakespeare — Macbeth. 
 
 Pope — Iliad, Books I., VI., XXII., 
 
 XXIV. 
 Addison — Sir Roger de Coverley. 
 Goldsmith — Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Coleridge — Ancient Mariner. 
 Tennyson — The Princess. 
 Scott — Ivanhoe. 
 Cooper — Last of the Mohicans. 
 
 For Study. 
 
 Shakespeare — Macbeth. 
 
 Milton — L' Allegro, II Penseroso, 
 
 Comus, and Lycidas. 
 Burke — Speech on Conciliation. 
 Macaulay — Essays on Milton and 
 
 Addison. 
 
 For Reading. 
 
 1902. 
 
 Pope — Iliad, Books I., VI., XXII., 
 
 XXIV. 
 Addison — Sir Roger de Coverley. 
 Coleridge — Ancient Mariner. 
 Eliot — Silas Marner. 
 Shakespeare — Merchant of Venice. 
 Tennyson — The Princess. 
 Scott — Ivanhoe. 
 Cooper — Last of the Mohicans. 
 Goldsmith —Vicar of Wakefield. 
 
 For Study, 
 
 Shakespeare — Macbeth. 
 Burke — Speech on Conciliation. 
 Milton — L'Allegro, II Penseroso, 
 
 Comus, and Lycidas. 
 Macaulay — Essays on Milton and 
 
 Addison. 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 
 
Exercises in Rhetoric and English 
 Composition^ 
 
 By GEORGE R. CARPENTER, 
 
 Proftssor of Rhetoric and English Composition, Columbia College. 
 
 HIGH SCHOOL COURSE. SEVENTH EDITION. 
 i6mo. Cloth. Price 75 cents, net. 
 
 ADVANCED COURSE. FOURTH EDITION. 
 i2mo. Cloth. Price $1.00, net. 
 
 ** This work gives the student the very gist and germ of the art of composi- 
 tion." — Public opinion. 
 
 " G. R. Carpenter, Professor of Rhetoric and English Composition in Colum- 
 bia College, has prepared a work under the title of * Exercises in Rhetoric and 
 English Composition,' in which not so much the science of Rhetoric is mapped 
 out and defined as the practical workings of the art are furnished to the student 
 with just enough of the principles to guide him aright. The author gives an 
 abundance of exercises for the student to study and analyze, and this is the very 
 best kind of help. The scheme of the subject-matter is somewhat unique and 
 novel, but it is comprehensive and lucid. ... A very serviceable and suggestive 
 book to read and consult." — Education. 
 
 " The text represents the substance of teaching which a freshman may fairly 
 be expected to compass, and it is set forth with a clearness and directness and 
 brevity so admirable as to make the volume seem almost the realization of that 
 impossible short method of learning to write which has often been sought for, 
 but never with a nearer approach to being found. . . . We do not hesitate to 
 give unreserved commendation to this little book." — The Nation. 
 
 " Seldom has so much good common sense been put within so brief a space." 
 — The Boston Herald. 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 
 
Studies in Structure and Style* 
 
 BASED ON SEVEN MODERN ENGLISH ESSAYS. 
 
 By W. T. BREWSTER, A.M., 
 
 Tutor in Rhetoric and English in Coluynbia University. 
 
 With an Introduction by G. R. Carpenter, A.B., Professor of Rhetoric and 
 English Composition in Columbia University. 
 
 Cloth. i2mo. $i.io. 
 
 The Seven Essays referred to are : J. A. Froude's *' The Defeat of the Span- 
 ish Armada," R. L. Stevenson's *' Personal Experience and Review," John 
 Morley's '* Macaulay," Matthew Arnold's *' On the Study of Celtic Literature," 
 James Bryce's ** The Strength of American Democracy," John Ruskin's " The 
 Crown of Wild Olive," and J. H. Newman's " What is a University? " 
 
 It is of too recent publication to have been in class-room use, but will be 
 introduced at the beginning of another school year in a number of schools. 
 
 "It is well conceived, and the selections are excellent for their purpose." — 
 Prof. Felix E. Schelling, University of Pennsylvania. 
 
 " The selections seem to be chosen with good judgment, and the notes to 
 be careful and instructive." — Prof. Fred P. Emery, Dartmouth College ^ 
 Hanover, N.H. 
 
 " I am even more pleased with the book than I had expected to be. ... I 
 shall certainly try to introduce the book into one of my classes next fall." — 
 Miss Anna H. Smith, High School, Binghamton, N.Y. 
 
 ** * Studies in Structure and Style ' is, I think, the best book of the kind that 
 has yet appeared, and I shall be glad to recommend it to my classes."— Prof. 
 Edwin M. Hopkins, University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kan. 
 
 " I have delayed to acknowledge Brewster's * Studies in Structure and Style,' 
 which you kindly sent me, until I could examine it with some care. That exami- 
 nation is very satisfactory. The selections are well chosen, and the comments 
 both on their structure and their style are distinctly valuable. The wofk can 
 hardly fail to be of large service." — MiSS E. G. Willcox, Wellesley College, Mass. 
 
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 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
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