THE LUCUBRATIONS OF
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
By
W. H—n
Esq
Dr.
S—t, A. H—y
Esq
deceased; and several other Hands.
VOL. V.
LONDON,
Printed for
John Morphew,
near
Stationers-Hall.
MDCCXII.
TO THE READER.
THE following Papers were publish'd, and several of 'em written, by a Gentleman now Abroad. Many of 'em came from the same Hands which contributed to the other Volumes, several of which (I fancy) will easily distinguish themselves to have been the Productions of a Gentleman lately dead; one who, to the Advantages of a large Estate and good Education, had acquir'd Learning and an exact Knowledge of the best Sort of Men both at Home and Abroad; and withal, was Master of so much Wit and Humour, that there are few People whose Conversations could be more desirable. His Friends and the Publick equally regret his Loss, since he was serviceable and agreeable to 'em both in a very eminent Degree. The rest of these Papers are to live upon what Commendations they can give themselves, and perhaps may be thought not altogether unworthy of the Honour of serving as a Supplement to the former Volumes.
THE [No 1. TATLER:
BY
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
VOL. V.
Quis ergo sum Saltem, si non sum Sofia? Te interrogo.
Plaut. Amphitruo.
Saturday, January 13. 1710.
'TIS impossible perhaps for the best and wisest amongst us, to keep so constant a Guard upon our Temper, but that we may at one Time or other lie open to the Strokes of Fortune, and such Incidents as we cannot foresee. With Sentiments of this Kind I came Home to my Lodgings last Night, much fatigued with a long and sudden Journey from the Country, and full of the ungrateful Occasion of it. 'Twas natural for me to have immediate Recourse to my Pen and Ink; but before I would offer to make Use of them, I resolv'd deliberately to tell over a Hundred, and when I came to the End of that Sum, I found it more advisable to defer drawing up my intended Remonstrance, till I had slept soundly on my Resentments. Without any other Preface than this, I shall give the World a fair Account of the Treatment I have lately met with, and leave them to judge, whether the Uneasiness I have suffer'd be inconsistent with the Character I have generally pretended to. About Three Weeks since, I receiv'd an Invitation from a Kinsman in
Staffordshire,
to spend my
Christmas
in those Parts. Upon taking Leave of Mr.
Morphew,
I put as many Papers into his Hands as would serve till my Return and charg'd him at parting, to be very punctual with the Town. In what Manner he and Mr.
Lillie
have been tamper'd with since, I cannot say, they have given me my Revenge, if I desired any, by allowing their Names to an idle Paper, that in all humane Probability, cannot live a Fortnight to an End. My self, and the Family I was with, were in the Midst of Gaiety, and a plentiful Entertainment, when I receiv'd a Letter from my Sister
Jenny,
who, after mentioning some little Affairs I had intrusted to her, goes on thus:
"The inclos'd, I believe, will give you some Surprize, as it has already astonish'd every Body here: Who Mr.
Steele
is, that subscribes it, I don't know, any more than I can comprehend what could induce him to it.
Morphew
and
Lillie,
I am told, are both in the Secret. I shall not presume to instruct you, but hope you will use some Means to disappoint the ill Nature of those who are taking Pains to deprive the World of one of its most reasonable Entertainments. I am,
&c.
"
I am to thank my Sister for her Compliment; but be that as it will, I shall not easily be discourag'd from my former Undertaking
In Pursuance of it, I was obliged upon this Notice to take Places in the Coach for my self and my Maid with the utmost Expedition, lest I should, in a short Time, be rallied out of my Existence, as some People will needs fancy Mr.
Partridge
has been, and the real
Isaac Bickerstaff
have passed for a Creature of Mr.
Steele
's Imagination. This Illusion might have hoped for some tolerable Success, if I had not more than once produced my Person in a crowded Theatre; and such a Person as Mr.
Steele,
if I am not misinformed in the Gentleman, would hardly think it an Advantage to own, though I should throw him in all the little Honour I have gained by my
Lucubrations.
I may be allowed, perhaps, to understand Pleasantry as well as other Men, and can (in the usual Phrase) take a Jest without being angry; but I appeal to the World, whether the Gentleman has not carried it too far, and whether he ought not to make a publick Recantation, if the Credulity of some unthinking People should force me to insist upon it. The following Letter is just come to Hand, and I think it not improper to be inserted in this Paper.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
SIR,
I Am extreamly glad to hear you are come to Town, for in your Absence we were all mightily surprized with an unaccountable Paper, Sign'd,
Richard Steele,
who is esteem'd by those that know him, to be a Man of Wit and Honour; and therefore we took it either to be a Counterseit, or a perfect
Christmas
Frolick of that ingenious Gentleman. But then, your Paper ceasing immediately after; we were at a Loss what to think: If you were weary of the Work you had so long carried on, and had given this Mr.
Steele
Orders to signify so to the Publick, he should have said it in plain Terms; but as that Paper is worded, one would be apt to judge, that he had a Mind to perswade the Town that there was some Analogy between
Isaac Bickerstaff
and him-Possibly Possibly there may be a Secret in this which I cannot enter into; but I flatter my self that you never had any Thoughts of giving over your Labours for the Benefit of Mankind, when you cannot but know how many Subjects are yet unexhausted, and how many others, as being less obvious, are wholly untouch'd. I dare promise, not only for my self, but many other abler Friends, that we shall still continue to furnish you with Hints on all proper Occasions, which is all your Genius requires. I think, by the Way, you cannot in Honour have any more to do with
Morphew
and
Lillie,
who have gone beyond the ordinary Pitch of Assurance, and transgress'd the very Letter of the Proverb, by endeavouring to cheat you of your Christian and Sirname too. Wishing you, Sir, long to live for our Instruction and Diversion, and to the defeating of all Impostors, I remain,
Your most obedient humble Servant, and affectionate Kinsman,
Humphry Wagstaff.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Whereas the
TATLER
hath been omitted for some Time, by the Neglect of those who had the Care of it in the Absence of
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
And whereas a Gentleman was pleased to publish a Paper, insinuating himself to have been Author of the
TATLER,
and to have now laid it down; And lastly, Whereas several spurious Papers have since come out under the said Title: The said
Isaac Bickerstaff
declares, he is a perfect Stranger to the said Gentleman, and does hereby give Notice, That he had no Intention to discontinue the said Paper, which shall be publish'd every
Tuesday
and
Saturday:
Only as a Mark of his Displeasure, he has thought fit to change his Printer and Publisher. It is therefore desired, that all Letters be from henceforward directed to
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
at Mrs.
Baldwin
's, at the
Oxford-Arms
in
Warwick-Lane.
The TATLER. [No 2.
Alios Viri Reverentia, vultusque ad continendum populum mire formatus: Alios etiam, quibus ipse interesse non potuit, Vis scribendi tamen, & Magni Nominis autoritas pervicers.
Tull. Epist.
From
Saturd. Jan.
13. to
Tuesd. Jan.
16. 1710.
I Remember
Menage
tells a Story of Monsieur
Racan,
who had appointed a Day and Hour to meet a certain Lady of great Wit whom he had never seen, in order to make an Acquaintance between them.
'Two of
Racan
's Friends, who had heard of the Appointment resolved to play him a Trick. The first went to the Lady two Hours before the Time, said his Name was
Racan,
and talk'd with her an Hour; they were both mightily pleased, began a great Friendship, and parted with much Satisfaction. A few Minutes after comes the Second, and sends up the same Name; the Lady wonders at the Meaning, and tells him, Mr.
Racan
had just left her. The Gentleman says it was some rascally Impostor, and that he had been frequently us'd in that Manner. The Lady is convinc'd, and they laugh at the Oddness of the Adventures. She now calls to Mind several Passages which confirms her that the former was a Cheat. He appoints a Second Meeting, and takes his Leave. He was no sooner gone, but the true
Racan
comes to the Door, and desires, under that Name, to see the Lady. She was out of all Patience, sends for him up, rates him for an Impostor, and, after a Thousand Injuries, flings a Slipper at his Head. It was impossible to pacify or disabuse her; he was forced to retire, and it was not without some Time, and the Intervention of Friends, that they could come to an Eclaircisement."
This, as I take it, is exactly the Case with Mr.
S—le,
the pretended TATLER from
Morphew,
and my self, only (I presume) the World will be sooner undeceiv'd than the Lady in
M
nage.
The very Day my last Paper came out, my Printer brought me another of the same Date, call'd the TATLER, by
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
and, which was still more pleasant, with an Advertisement at the End, calling me the
Female
TATLER: It is not enough to rob me of my Name, but now they must impose a Sex on me, when my Years have long since determin'd me to be of none at all. There is only one Thing wanting in the Operation, that they would renew my Age, and then I will heartily forgive them all the rest. In the mean Time, whatever Uneasiness I have suffer'd from the little Malice of these Men, and my Retirement in the Country, the Pleasures I have receiv'd from the same Occasion, will fairly ballance the Account. On the one Hand I have been highly delighted to see my Name and Character assumed by the Scribblers of the Age, in order to recommend themselves to it; and on the other, to observe the good Taste of the Town, in distinguishing and exploding them through every Disguise, and sacrificing their Trifles to the supposed
Manes
of
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esquire. But the greatest Merit of my Journey into
Staffordshire,
is, that it has open'd to me a new Fund of unreprov'd Follies and Errors that have hitherto lain out of my View, and, by their Situation, escap'd my Censure. For, as I have liv'd generally in Town, the Images I had of the Country were such only as my Senses receiv'd very early, and my Memory has since preserv'd with all the Advantages they first appear'd in.
Hence it was that I thought our Parish-Church the noblest Structure in
England,
and the 'Squire's Place-House, as we call'd it, a most magnificent Palace. I had the same Opinion of the Alms-House in the Church-yard, and of a Bridge over the Brook that parts our Parish from the next. 'Twas the common Vogue of our School, That the Master was the best Scholar in
Europe,
and the Usher the Second. Not happening to correct these Notions by comparing them with what I saw when I came into the World, upon returning back, I began to resume my former Imaginations, and expected all Things should appear in the same View as I left them when I was a Boy: But to my utter Disappointment I found them wonderfully shrunk, and lessen'd almost out of my Knowledge. I look'd with Contempt on the Tribes painted on the Church Walls, which I once so much admired, and on the carv'd Chimney-Piece in the 'Squire's Hall. I found my old Master to be a poor ignorant Pedant; and, in short, the whole Scene to be extreamly chang'd for the worse. This I could not help mentioning, because though it be of no Consequence in it self, yet 'tis certain, that most Prejudices are contracted and retained by this narrow Way of Thinking, which in Matters of the greatest Moment are hardly shook off; and which we only think true, because we were made to believe so, before we were capable to distinguish between Truth and Falshood. But there was one Prepossession which I confess to have parted with, much to my Regret: I mean the Opinion of that native Honesty and Simplicity of Manners which I had always imagin'd to be inherent in Country People. I soon observ'd it was with them and us, as they say of Animals; That every Species at Land, has one to resemble it at Sea; for 'twas easy to discover the Seeds and Principles of every Vice and Folly that one meets with in the more known World, though shooting up in different Forms. I took a Fancy out of the several Inhabitants round, to furnish the Camp; the Bar, and the Exchange, and some certain Chocolate and Coffee-houses, with exact Parallels to what, in many Instances, they already produce. There was a drunken quarrelsome
Smith,
whom I have a hundred Times fancied at the Head of a Troop of Dragoons. A Weaver, within two Doors of my Kinsman, was perpetually setting Neighbours together by the Ears. I lamented to see how his Talents were misplac'd, and imagin'd what a Figure he might make in
Westminster-hall.
Goodman
Crop
of
Compton-Farm,
wants nothing but a Plumb and a Gold-Chain to qualify him for the Government of the City. My Kinsman's Stable-Boy was a gibbing Companion that would always have his Jest. He would often put Cow-itch in the Maids Bed, pull Stools from under Folks, and lay a Coal upon their Shoes when they were asleep. He was at last turn'd off for some notable Piece of Roguery, and when I came away, was loitering among the Ale-houses. Bless me, thought I, what a prodigious Wit would this have been with us! I could have match'd all the Sharpers between St.
James
's and
Covent-Garden,
with a notable Fellow in the same Neighbourhood, (since hang'd for picking Pockets at Fairs) could he have had the Advantages of their Education. So nearly are the Corruptions of the Country ally'd to those of the Town, with no further Difference than what is made by another Turn of Thought and Method of Living.
Many more Grievances, though not of equal Importance, have been laid before me from several Parts of this Kingdom, which, as they fall not under any ones Cognizance so properly as my own, oblige me to a speedy and effectual Regulation of them. When I was prevail'd upon to, act as Censor of
Great Britain,
I did not enough, consider the Extent of that Province, nor how, difficult it would be to make my Authority understood in the remoter Parts of this Island; for most of the Natives being Strangers to Literature, I cannot hope my Lucubrations should meet with a general Reception amongst them; and therefore I have now resolved on an Expedient, which I shall explain by the following Order.
Saturday, January 13. 1710.
To all and every one of the Church-wardens and Sidesmen, in their respective Parishes, throughout the Kingdom of
Great Britain, Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Censor of the said Kingdom, wishes Health, and many happy New Years.
Gentlemen,
WHereas I have from many Parts of the Kingdom, as well Villages as Country Towns, receiv'd credible Information of several Innovations, Abuses, and Offences, lately crept into them, much derogating from their Honour, nor less pernicious to the Quiet of Society, and at the same Time not punishable by any Law, Common or Municipal, as yet in Force; and whereas my Age, growing Infirmities, and necessary Residence in this Place, will not give me Leave to come in Person, and put a Stop to these Evils: I do hereby charge and require you, and every one of you, within Five Days after Receipt of this, to repair forthwith to the Vestry, or what other Place shall to your Wisdom seem most proper; there to chuse, elect, and nominate, some candid, sober, and understanding Person, being not above the Dignity of a Squire, nor under that of Clerk of the Parish, aged Fifty Years at least; whom so chosen, elected, and nominated, I do hereby authorize and depute, under the Title of a Rural Censor, to remark, examine, and take Cognizance of all such Offences; provided always that he does not presume to pronounce Sentence, or make any final Determination, not having first communicated to me, by Letter, the Persons, Quality, Circumstances,
&c.
or not having receiv'd my Instructions therein.
In Witness whereof, I have set my Hand the Day and Date above:
Isaac Bickerstaff.
Sign'd
KIDNEY,
Clerk of the Court, during the incapacity of
Charles Lillie,
whose Petition relating to his Suspension, is referr'd to the next Court-day. In the mean Time, all Letters and Advices are to be directed to Mrs.
Baldwins.
This Day the Case of
John Morphew
came on: He was indicted for having made many scandalous Reflections on the Censor, as likewise for Breach of Trust; and being found guilty of the same, was sentenc'd to continue printing Sham-Tatlers, and one or two more such Papers. Six other Causes were heard afterwards, which 'tis not thought proper to make publick, many noble Persons, yet alive, being concern'd therein.
The TATLER. [No 3.
Sie teneros animos aliena opprobria sape Absterrent vitris.
Hor.
From
Tuesd. Jan.
16. to
Saturday Jan.
20. 1710.
WHen I left the Town, as I said before, I did not only make a sufficient Provision for the Continuance of my Lucubrations, till the Time I had fix'd for my Return, but took Care to substitute one, who in case my Stay should happen to be longer than I design'd, would much better have furnished out the usual Entertainment the Publick expected from me.
Sam Trusty,
of whom I made Mention in a former Paper, was the Person I pitched upon to execute that Office. Fifty Years and upwards we have liv'd in so strict an Intimacy, in so perfect an Union, that neither Times, Interest, Passions nor Opinions, have ever been able to make the least Flaw in our Friendship. I am not ashamed to own I have received more Advantage from his Conversation, than from all the Academick Exercises; 'tis to his Instructions I owe the Improvement of my Understanding, to his Precepts and Example the forming of my Manners; and to his Observations, the principal Remarks I have made upon the several States and Conditions of Mankind. As his Genius at our first setting out in the World, was much above mine, so he has ever since maintained the same Superiority. His Words were always few, his Arguments weighty, his Reflections just, his Intentions sincere, and his Connexions were mixed with such an agreeable Mirth, that I have often taken Pleasure in putting my self in the Wrong, on purpose to excite him to so delightful a Reproof. A' sudden Indisposition defeated me of his Assistance, and has exposed me to the Difficulties I have been under in reinstating my self in my former Authority. However, that he designed to serve me effectually, will appear by the ensuing Discourse, which he intended to publish the Day after my Departure; where in his ludicrous Way he has pursued the Directions I left him, as he takes Notice himself in his Introduction. I was unwilling the World should be deprived of one Line of his Writing, and consequently could not well omit what the Excess of his Affection prompted him to say in my Favour, and which is perhaps the only Instance that can be given of his Partiality.
My very good Friend
Isaac Bickerstaff,
being indispensably obliged to visit some Relations in the Country these Holy-Days: That there may be no Interruption of Justice in his Absence, has deputed me to officiate for him till his Return; and his last Instructions were, to have a particular Regard to the Interest of the Fair Sex, of which he has all along shewn himself a profess'd and constant Admirer. I am sensible how unequal my Talents are for so important a Task, nor are our different Sentiments upon that Subject a less Obstruction to the Performance of what he has enjoin'd me, than my Want of Abilities to fill the Place of so worthy and great a Person. But to proceed to the Business in Hand.
If we were to
ake Mankind's Character from one another, there never could have been so seasonable a Time to exercise the Office of Censor with the utmost Severity; because there never was a Time, by universal Consent, when the Iniquities of the Age were so full blown, and consequently the World stood so much in Need of Correction. It has ever been thought natural to People advanced in Years, as I am, to declaim upon the Vices of the Age they live in; but I am far from believing we are half so wicked as we say we are; and being a pretty strict Enquirer into Humane Nature, and endeavouring to trace all Things up to their original Causes, I am fully perswaded, that a malignant Love of Detraction is the reigning Vice of our Times; and could we but eradicate the pernicious Practice of Railing and Defamation, we should appear to be much upon the Level with our Predecessors, and not worse than the Nations round about us.
Zeno,
the Founder of the Stoick Philosophy, had so little Indulgence for the Frailties and Infirmities of Mankind, that he esteemed the minutest Deviation from the Rules of Reason and Justice, to be of equal Weight with the most horrid Crimes, and grossest Impieties; so stealing an Apple, by his Account, was as great a Sin as committing Sacrilege; and the throwing at Cocks on
Shrove-Tuesday
would have been reckoned as heinous an Offence, as murthering ones Father in cold Blood. We seem to pursue his Principles in the Judgments we make of other Peoples Actions. Every little Error, the most harmless Irregularities, are subject to have Names of Infamy affixed to them, and ranked among Deeds of the blackest Complexion.
Jenny Filch
is a lamentable Instance of this barbarous Custom. They have lately set upon her Reputation at my Lady
Swaddles,
the general Rendezvous of reverend Female Elders, consisting of Antiquated Prudes, Superannuated Belles, and Coquets of Fifty Five. Her Ladyship stroaking the downy Honours of her Chin, with a hoarse masculine Voice, pronounced her guilty of Incontinency, cheating at Play, Theft, and drinking to Excess: What an Accumulation of Enormities! How severe are these Reflections upon the Reputation of a young Lady? And had she not a Greatness of Mind superior to their Malice, which some no doubt will ascribe to Impudence, I cannot see how she could dare shew her Face. But I who have known her from her Infancy, think it incumbent on me to vindicate her Character, and make no Question, in very few Words, of convincing all impartial Judges, how innocent she is of what they lay to her Charge.
Jenny Filch
was brought up at a Boarding-School, where Children of both Sexes were promiscuously receiv'd. From a Girl she hated a Sedentary Life; so little Progress was made in the Sampler. Her Humour was brisk and jovial, her Constitution sanguine and vigorous, which led her to delight in robust Diversions; such as Trap-ball, Juggle-cat, British-hoppers, Nine-pins, and Whipping Tops. To share in their Sports, she was fain to be much among the Boys; she grew from thence to love their Company extreamly, and has gradually continued the Affection ever since. I am forced to explain this Matter very particularly, because she has been often twitted by the Ladies for liking to be with the Fellows rather than with them. As she is a very little Observer of Forms, she seldom could endure to be under the Restraint of a set Dress, but rather chuse, with some one Friend, to go in a Mob, and a Mask, into the Pit at a Play, than to sit in a Box. The Vivacity of her Wit, and the Smartness of her Repartees, drew constantly all the young Beaux about her. This Humour of hers it seems took mightily; and she would often prevail upon those Ladies of her Acquaintance, whose Husbands were beyond Sea, purely out of Compassion, rather than to sit moping and melancholy at Home, to go along with her; and in short, did all she could to procure them such Diversions, as might make them less sensible of their 'Spouse's Absence. When the Play was near done, no Body was more nice in chusing some of the most civil and harmless Men to lead them to a Coach; and because Hackney-Coachmen are often very rude and imposing, they would now and then for Protection permit them to step in, and perhaps drive to
Phillips
's, just to refresh their Spirits. Sometimes, if they were very well assured of the Gentlemen's Behaviour, they would in a Frolick venture to ear a Frigasee at
Pontacks,
but never failed to be back by Twelve. I remember there was a great Pother about Two or Three of her Companions, who at their Husband's Return, were very near encreasing their Family. But how she is to blame all this while, no Body can say 'twas her doing; let every one answer for their own Follies: And this is all I ever heard alledged against her upon the first Article.
Now, as to cheating at Play, I suppose, what mislead them into that Opinion, was her great Skill and Dexterity in all Tricks at Cards: For having very fine Fingers, she took a great deal of Pleasure in learning whatever the famous
High German
could teach her in that Art, wherein she grew so great a Proficient, that in a short Time she out-did her Master. Twice or Thrice a Week (meerly for Amusement) she would pass the Evening at
Langteral
;
and truly 'twas very entertaining for any Standers by to observe what a superior Genius she had in handling the Cards above the People she play'd with. She would make nothing of shewing Three Loo's in Five Deals, to the great Wonder and Surprize of all the Company. But as this was only done for Diversion, she chose to play so low, that she seldom carried off above Four or Five Pounds, just to pay her Chair, and buy clean Gloves; what they mean by Theft, I can't imagine, unless 'twas slipping now and then a China Cup into her Pocket at an
Indian House,
to adorn her Cabinet. This, it seems, is a hereditary Piece of Furniture she is very fond of; it came from
Italy
long ago, the Inside is curiously painted, wherein are represented the Loves of
Endymion
and the
M
, Cupid
and
Psyche, Venus
and
Adonis,
with several other fabulous Stories. She ever loved to have Things neat about her, and only wanted some few Pieces of China to place upon the Top of this Cabinet, but being a notable Housewife, she could not endure to squander away her Money upon such Baubles; so when she went with any of her Acquaintance to Shops that deal in th
se Things, she would pick up in one Place a Cup, in the next a Saucer, in a Third something of another Sort, either China or Japan, just as it came to Hand, and by Degrees got as compleat a Collection together as any Body: In short, there never was a more agreeable Variety, for no Two Pieces were alike in the whole Parcel. 'Tis ten to one some scrupulous People will be apt to call this Pilfering; but let them consider, no Body ever more exactly observed the Rules of Justice, in all the Measures she took, to supply her self with those Conveniencies. Every Shop contributed but barely its Share, and the Burthen being equally laid, (so far from giving Occasion of Complaint) the Loss was scarce felt by any Body; besides, she made them ample Amends by commending their Goods, and bringing them Custom. I may add in her Behalf, that what she did was meerly in Conformity of the Fashion: Every Lady's Cabinet was cover'd with China; she could not well afford to buy it, What should she do? It has been a receiv'd Saying,
One had as good be out of the World, as out of the Fashion;
from whence we may conclude, those Things are as necessary as Meat and Drink; and no Body was ever accounted a Criminal for taking as much as would suffice Nature, let it be at whose Expence it would. Indeed, had this been done in any b
e View, for filthy Lucre, and to sell again, I readily grant she were to blame; but in her Case 'tis no more than stealing the Custom of Wine for ones own Table, and we all know how commonly that's practised by People of very tender Consciences.
What remains to be spoken of, is,
Her immoderate Love of Wine;
nor will she be less clear in this, than in all the rest.
Jenny
has a voluble Tongue, and loves to exercise it, that I cannot but own she often talks her self into a Heat, and that causes Thirst; sometimes by an Absence of Mind, pretty incident to her, she will call for Glass after Glass, without remembring, she drank but the Minute before. Now, this may prove she has a short Memory indeed; but how to infer the
Love of Wine
from hence, I cannot see. The Mistake however is easy to be accounted for. The Negligence of her Dress, her fluster'd Complexion, her great Loquacity sometimes, and her incoherent Answers to others, when her Thoughts are wandering, often concur to make her look as if she were actually in Drink: But is this an equitable Way of Judging? If once we suffer our selves to be imposed on by Appearances, farewel all Hopes of having Truth established among us in our Generation.
Before I dismiss this Subject, I cannot but express a sincere Concern for a Multitude of injur'd Women who have suffered in their Characters, for want of a Champion to defend their Cause; and I will take upon me to affirm, as much might have been said for a Hundred about this Town who have been basely abused, as I have done for
Jenny Filch.
But I refer their Justification to my Friend
Isaac,
to whom that Province does most properly belong.
The TATLER. [No 4.
— Tibi luditur: effluis amens
Contemnere. —
Per.
From
Saturday Jan.
20. to
Tuesday Jan.
23. 1710.
Channel-Row,
January 20.
LEaning out of my Window this Morning, I observ'd a Young Gentleman pass under it, whose Face I was sure to have seen, but could not presently recollect his Name. The Oddness of his Figure help'd to disguise him; for, though otherwise decent enough, he had a Napkin-Cap on his Head; and at the same Time, by the Negligence of his Air, gave one to understand, that he thought himself dress'd for the whole Day. In this Manner he walk'd on to the End of our Lane, then turn'd short upon his Heel, and hurry'd back again with the utmost Precipitation. By this Time I had made a shift to remember, that this was the same Young Gentleman whom I formerly made Mention of, in order to recommend a Play of his to the World. There was Merit enough in that Performance to make me a Well-wisher to the Author, and as much Wit as might make him capable of an odd Turn in his Understanding.
I was sorry to see him thus expos'd, and beckon'd him up to me; he came in great Confusion, and without giving me Time to ask any Questions, told me,
he was particularly asham'd to be seen by a Man of my Character, in so heedless a Way, that indeed he had come out in some hast, and forg
t his Hat and Perriwig.
By his aukward Manner of excusing himself, I soon found the Cause of his Disorder; that it was purely Artificial, and lay rather in his Heart than his Head. 'Twas with great Indignation I heard his Apology, and had not I been strongly prejudic'd in the young Man's behalf, I should hardly have afforded him the Favour of a Rebuke. After some Enquiry, I found by him, that this Inadvertency had cost him much Pains and Industry to acquire, and that by long Use, it was now improv'd into a Habit.
He freely own'd, that this was a Method he had often took to distinguish and recommend himself as a Wit, and that he had hitherto met with good Success. I was a little pacify'd with the Frankness of this Confession, and encourag'd him to proceed in it.—
'To tell you the Truth, Sir,
says he,
I was led into this Error very young, and the Occasion of it perhaps may give you Diversion. 'Twas a Custom at the Great School where I was bred, frequently to call over the Names of the Boys, in the Presence of the Master. This happen'd one Day, just after the Publick Prayers were over, and when it came to my Turn to say
Adsum,
through Mistake I answer'd,
Amen.
Would you believe, Sir, that from this very Moment I came immediately into Vogue? I was cry'd up for a Boy of great Parts, and of a wild, but extraordinary Genius. As I grew more careless, I was still more admir'd, and by a Thousand little premeditated Blunders. I at last establish'd a Reputation. When I came to the University, I expected to be laugh'd out of my Fooleries; but instead of that, I was every Day more confirm'd in them. There was hardly a Man of Distinction, but was, as they call it in the University Cant, a
Sh
t
and a
Rattle.
To be a very great Sloven in Dress, was some Degree of Merit, and I particularly remember one of the
Beaux Esprits,
that valued himself upon being the dirtiest Fellow that ever writ a good Line. 'Twas a Matter of Emulation amongst us, whose Rooms should be worst furnish'd, and lie in the greatest Disorder, so that with a little wresting of the Sense, we might have writ over our Doors,
— Hic vivimus ambitiosa
Paupertate. —
Harry Heedless,
whose Works you may have heard of, has lately taken an Allegorical Inventory of his Goods, in Heroic Verse; suffer me, Sir, to put it into your Hands, and to beg a Place for it in your next
Lucubrations.
"
Here the young Gentleman took his Leave, and thank'd me for my Friendship, with an Air of Sincerity that could not be dissembled. His Readiness to understand his Error, and his Resolution to reform it, have indeed convinc'd me, that in Matters of this Kind, a Man of great Parts may repeat more in half an Hour, than one of ordinary Capacity can in many Years. But I must not omit the Verses.
Where C— C— Towers in pompous Pride are drest;
Sublime and far Superior to the rest,
O'er distant Piles, presides a Garret high,
That braves the Gods, and borders on the Sky:
Within whose jutting Walls and vaulted Roof,
DISORDER, Frantick Goddess, dwells aloof;
Banish'd the Court, despairing to be Great,
The wretched Exile flies to this Retreat.
Pensive and sad she sits, with ragged Grace,
On tottering Chair, the
Tripos
of the Place;
In muddy Ale, there wasts the lingring Day,
Or in
Mundungus
Clouds, whiffs Care away.
At Night's Approach, on Bed unmade she lies,
Whose Softness with the polish'd Marble vies:
Not stuff'd from Fowls at Lordly Banquets drest,
(They made for Luxury, their Plumes for Rest.)
But from those Flocks that feed by harmless Swains,
On
Hampshire
Downs, or
Wiltshire
's spreading Plains.
Mean while the Winds a dreadful Consort keep,
And with h
rse Musick lull her fast asleep.
I cannot help adding a Word or Two upon this Humour of setting up for a Wit, by personating a different Conduct from others, in the Common Actions of Life. The rather, because within the Compass of my own Observation, it has depriv'd the World of many useful Persons, and eclips'd many valuable Qualifications. It has certainly been the Misfortune of several Great Men, to have had something singular in their Gate, their Diet, and even in their Conversation it self. They who have follow'd the profounder Studies, appear often to have their thoughts distracted, as 'tis particularly observ'd of Mathematicians, their Minds being so steddily fix'd, that they cannot easily unbend them.
Hence it is that others, imagining the Merit lies in the Singularity, are glad to find it so easie a Matter to distinguish themselves; the Desire of doing which I take to be the Root of all Affectation. To say Truth, the Men of Wit have, naturally, their Share in these Imperfections. For as more severe Studies require a very close Application, theirs perhaps ingage it too little, and their Spirits are too volatile to give a long and constant Attention. This Absence of theirs, if I may so speak, my Cousin
Humphry
calls a Tax upon great Genius's, and says, he thinks it a Happiness, when a Man of eminent Parts has nothing Particular to be known by, either when he walks the Street, or appears in Company. For which Reason, in talking over the Characters of Ingenious Men, I am frequently offended to hear People dwell upon some odd Circumstances in their Behaviour. A certain Author about Town is much celebrated for writing all his Works upon Backs of Letters, and Scraps of Paper. Another writ the best Part of his Poem upon old Cards, and had like to have lost Ten of the finest Lines in it, upon an Ace of Diamonds, which he had unluckily misplac'd. A Third, of Immortal Memory, was wont to lie in his Perriwig, and caught a Cold that destroy'd him, by washing his Hands. These and many other Singularities observable in Men of extraordinary Talents, might, for ought one knows, be natural to them. But when
Papilio
studies for Incoherent Answers to every Question that is ask'd him, and makes Appointments on purpose to forget them; 'tis a Question amongst the Curious, Whether the Humour be natural or affected? I think it the most favourable Opinion, that there is a Mixture of both. I have often with great Pleasure considered the Character of my Friend
Urbanus,
whose great Wit and Learning are indeed accompanied with Singularities, such as are altogether Natural, but will, I doubt, meet with few Imitators: I mean his excessive Candor, Modesty and good Nature. The Affectation of these Qualities would sufficiently distinguish any one that would be at the Pains to transcribe them, and the Consequences of it would be of Service to the World. But to copy the Infirmities only of Great Men, and to quote their Example in our Defence, is making Precedents of them, where they least desire to be so, and perverting their Authority to give a Sanction to Folly.
The TATLER. [No 5.
— Laceratque, trahitque
Molle pecus. —
Vir.
From
Tuesday Jan.
23. to
Saturday Jan.
27. 1710
AMongst other Severities I have met with from some Criticks, the cruelest for an Old Man is, that they will not let me be at quiet in my Bed, but pursue me to my very Dreams. I must not dream but when they please, nor upon long continued Subjects, however Visionary in their own Natures; because there is a manifest Moral quite thro' them, which to produce as a Dream is improbable and unnatural. The Pain I might have had from this Objection, is prevented by considering they have missed another, against which I should have been at a Loss to defend my self. They should have ask'd me whether the Dreams I publish can properly be call'd
Lucubrations,
which is the Name I have given to all my Papers, whether in Volumes or Half-sheets: So manifest a Contradiction
in Terminis,
that I wonder no Sophister ever thought of it: But the other is a Cavil. I remember when I was a Boy at School, I have often dream'd out the whole Passages of a Day; that I rode a Journey, baited, supp'd, went to Bed, and rose the next Morning; and I have known young Ladies who would dream a whole Contexture of Adventures in one Night large enough to make a Novel. In Youth the Imagination is strong, not mix'd with Cares, nor tinged with those Passions that most disturb and confound it, such as Avarice, Ambition, and many others. Now as old Men are said to grow Children again, so in this Article of Dreaming, I am returned to my Childhood. My Imagination is at full Ease, without Care, Avarice, or Ambition to clog it, by which, among many others, I have this Advantage of doubling the small Remainder of my Time, and living Four and Twenty Hours in the Day. However, the Dream I am now going to relate, is as wild as can well be imagined, and to please these Refiners upon Sleep, without any Moral that I can discover.
It happen'd that my Maid left on the Table in my Bed-Chamber, one of her Story-Books (as she calls them) which I took up, and found full of strange Impertinences, fitted to her Tast and Condition; of Poor Servants that came to be Ladies, and Serving-Men of low Degree, who married Kings Daughters. Among other Things I met this Sage Observation, that a Lion would never hurt a true Virgin: With this Medly of Nonsense in my Fancy I went to Bed, and dream'd that a Friend waked me in the Morning, and proposed for Pastime to spend a few Hours in seeing the Parish-Lions, which he had not done since he came to Town; and because they show'd but once a Week, he would not miss the Opportunity. I said I would humour him; tho', to speak the Truth, I was not fond of those cruel Spectacles, and if it were not so ancient a Custom, founded, as I had heard, upon the wisest Maxims, I should be apt to censure the Inhumanity of those who introduced it. All this will be a Riddle to the waking Reader, till I discover the Scene my Imagination had formed upon the Maxim, that a Lion would never hurt a true Virgin. I dream'd, that by a Law of Immemorial Time a He-Lion was kept in every Parish at the common Charge, and in a Place provided, adjoining to the Church-yard; That, before any one of the Fair Sex was married, if she affirmed her self to be a Virgin, she must on her Wedding-Day, and in her Wedding-Cloaths, perform the Ceremony of going alone into the Den, and stay an Hour with the Lion let loose, and kept fasting Four and Twenty Hours on purpose. At a proper Height, above the Den, were convenient Galleries for the Relations and Friends of the Young Couple, and open to all Spectators. No Maiden was forced to offer her self to the Lion; but if she refused, it was a Disgrace to marry her, and every one might have Liberty of calling her a Whore. And methought it was as usual a Diversion to see the Parish-Lions, as with us to go to a Play or an Opera. And it was reckoned convenient to be near the Church, either for marrying the Virgin if she escaped the Trial, or for burying the Bones when the Lion had devoured the rest, as he constantly did.
To go on therefore with the Dream:
We call'd first (as I remember) to see St.
Dunstan
's Lion, but we were told they did not shew to Day: From thence we went to that of
Covent-Garden,
which, to my great Surprize, we found as lean as a Skeleton, when I expected quite the contrary; but the Keeper said 'twas no Wonder at all, because the poor Beast had not got an Ounce of Woman's Flesh since he came into the Parish. This amaz'd me more than the other, and I was forming to my self a mighty Veneration for the Ladies in that Quarter of the Town, when the Keeper went on, and said, He wonder'd the Parish would be at the Charge of maintaining a Lion for nothing. Friend, (said I) do you call it Nothing, to justify the Virtue of so many Ladies, or has your Lion lost his distinguishing Faculty? Can there be any Thing more for the Honour of your Parish, than that all the Ladies married in your Church were pure Virgins? That is true, (said he) and the Doctor knows it to his Sorrow, for there has not been a Couple married in our Church since his Worship has been amongst us. The Virgins hereabouts are too wise to venture the Claws of the Lion; and because no Body will marry them, have all entered into Vows of Virginity. So that in Proportion we have much the largest Nunnery in the whole Town. This Manner of Ladies entring into a Vow of Virginity, because they were not Virgins, I easily conceiv'd, and my Dream told me, that the whole Kingdom was full of Nunneries, plentifully stock'd from the same Reason.
We went to see another Lion, where we found much Company met in the Gallery, the Keeper told us, we should see Sport enough, as he call'd it; and in a little Time, we saw a young beautiful Lady put into the Den, who walk'd up towards the Lion with all imaginable Security in her Countenance, and look'd smiling upon her Lover and Friends in the Gallery; which I thought nothing extraordinary, because it was never known that any Lion had been mistaken. But however, we were all Disappointed, for the Lion lifted up his Right Paw, which was the fatal Sign, and advancing forward, seized her by the Arm, and began to tear it: The poor Lady gave a terrible shriek, and cry'd out,
The Lion is just, I am no true Virgin,
Oh!
Sappho, Sappho.
She could say no more, for the Lion gave her the
Coup de Grace,
by a squeeze in the Throat, and she expir'd at his Feet. The Keeper dragg'd away her Body to feed the Animal when the Company was gone, for the Parish Lions never used to eat in Publick. After a little Pause, another Lady came on towards the Lion in the same Manner as the former; we observ'd the Beast smell her with great Diligence, he scratch'd both her Hands with lifting them to his Nose, and clapping a Claw on her Bosom, drew Blood; however he let her go, and at the same Time turned from her with a So
t of Contempt, at which she was not a little mortify'd, and retired with some Confusion to her Friends in the Gallery. Methought the whole Company immediately understood the Meaning of this, that the Easiness of the Lady had suffered her to admit certain impudent and dangerous Familiarities, bordering too much upon what is Criminal; neither was it sure whether the Lover then present had not some Sharers with him in those Freedoms, of which a Lady can never be too sparing.
This happened to be an extraordinary Day, for a Third Lady came into the Den, laughing loud, playing with her Fan, tossing her Head, and smiling round on the young Fellows in the Gallery. However, the Lion leap'd on her with great Fury, and we gave her for gone; but on a sudden he let go his Hold, turned from her as if he were nauseated, then gave her a Lash with his Tail; after which she returned to the Gallery, not the least out of Countenance: And this, it seems, was the usual Treatment of Coquets.
I thought we had now seen enough, but my Friend would needs have us go and visit One or Two Lions in the City. We call'd at Two or Three Dens where they happen'd not to shew, but we generally found half a Score young Girls, between Eight and Eleven Years Old, playing with each Lion, sitting on his Back, and putting their Heads into his Mouth; some of them would now and then get a Scratch; but we always discover'd, upon examining, that they had been hoydening with the young Apprentices. One of them was calling to a pretty Girl of about Twelve Years, that stood by us in the Gallery, to come down to the Lion, and upon her Refusal, said,
Ah, Miss
Betty,
we could never get you to come near the Lion, since you play'd at Hoop and Hide with my Brother in the Garret.
We followed a Couple, with the Wedding Folks, goint to the Church of St.
Mary-Ax
's. The Lady, though well stricken in Years, extremely crooked and deform'd, was dress'd out beyond the Gaiety of Fifteen; having jumbled together, as I imagin'd, all the Tawd'ry Remains of Aunts, Godmothers, and Grandmothers, for some Generations past: One of the Neighbours whisper'd me that she was an Old Maid, and had the clearest Reputation of any in the Parish. There is nothing strange in that, thought I, but was much surpris'd when I observ'd afterwards that she went towards the Lion with Distrust and Concern. The Beast was lying down, but upon Sight of her, snuff'd up his Nose Two or Three Times, and then giving the Sign of Death, proceeded instantly to Execution. In the midst of her Agonies, she was heard to name the Words,
Italy
and
Artifices,
with the utmost Horror, and several repeated Execrations: And at last concluded,
Feel that I was, to put so much Confidence in the Toughness of my Skin!
The Keeper immediately set all in order again for another Customer, which happened to be a famous Prude, whom her Parents after long Threatnings, and much Perswasion, had with the extreamest Difficulty prevailed on to accept a young handsome Goldsmith, that might have pretended to five Times her Fortune. The Fathers and Mothers in the Neighbourhood used to quote her for an Example to their Daughters. Her Elbows were rivetted to her Sides, and her whole Person so order'd as to inform every Body that she was afraid they should touch her. She only dreaded to approach the Lion, because it was a He one, and abhorr'd to think an Animal of that Sex should presume to breathe on her. The Sight of a Man at Twenty Yards Distance made her draw back her Head. She always sate upon the farther Corner of the Chair, tho' there were Six Chairs between her and her Lover, and with the Door wide open, and her little Sister in the Room. She was never saluted but at the Tip of her Ear, and her Father had much ado to make her dine without her Gloves when there was a Man at Table. She enter'd the Den with some Fear, which we took to proceed from the Height of her Modesty, offended at the Sight of so many Men in the Gallery. The Lion beholding her at a Distance, immediately gave the deadly Sign; at which the poor Creature (methinks I see her still) miscarried in a Fright before us all. The Lion seem'd to be surpris'd as much as we, and gave her Time to make her Confession,
That she was Four Months gone, by the Fore-man of her Father's Shop, that this was her Third big Belly;
and when her Friends ask'd, why she would venture the Trial? She said,
her Nurse assured her, that a Lion would never hurt a Woman with Child.
" Upon this I immediately wak'd, and could not help wishing, that the Deputy-Censors of my late Institution were indu'd with the same Instinct as these Parish Lions were.
The TATLER. [No 6.
Juvenumque prodis
Publica Cura.
Hor.
From
Saturday Jan.
27. to
Thursday Febr.
1. 1710.
Channel-Row,
January 29.
I Have ever professed my self an Admirer of the Virtuous, and the valuable Part of the Fair Sex. I have asserted their Privileges, extenuated their Failings, and extoll'd their good Qualities. What more can be expected from a Man of my Years? To sooth them in their Follies, or suffer them in their Vices, were doing my self no Pleasure, and them the greatest Disservice imaginable. This may be some Apology for my last Paper, which I should not have apprehended to need any, but that the very Evening after it was publish'd, I receiv'd the following Letter.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff,
Esq
Censor of
Great Britain.
SIR,
I Have just now read your
Tatler
of this Day, in which (let me tell you) you have highly disoblig'd great Numbers of Ladies and Gentlemen, by endeavouring to debar them of many Freedoms with each other, before thought allowable. For my own Part, if I were a Man or a Woman, I would either cut your Throat, or get you poison'd for it. As I am neither, I judge impartially, and write this without Passion.
Castraccio Bellechantini.
I am to understand by this, that both Sexes are up in Arms against me, and that the Signior is inclin'd strictly to observe a
Venetian
Neutrality.
To comfort me under this Misfortune, the same Post brought me the Appearance of a Compliment; tho' to say Truth, I don't know how far to depend upon it.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
The humble Address of as many Virgins as could be conveniently assembled to that Purpose, from all Parts of the City of
London.
May it please your Honour,
'WE whose Names are underwritten, being honest Maids and true, and not fearing, upon a good Occasion, to look the hungriest of your Lions in the Face, though all of us, as appears by the Parish-Books, turn'd of the Age of Twelve, do hereby give you Thanks for the Exemplary Justice you have done in this Days Paper on the Prudes, Sappho's, Coquets,
&c.
who by their Evil Courses have drawn just Satyr on themselves, and undeserv'd Scandal on others. It were to be wish'd indeed, that the Expedient your Honour was pleas'd to dream of, could actually and immediately be put in force throughout every Parish in this Kingdom, to the Confusion of all such Offenders, and the Justification of those who abhor their Practices. In the mean Time, placing a great Confidence in the Truth of the ancient Tradition, by you mention'd, as well as in our own Innocency, we humbly beg Leave to propose to your Honour, that as many of them and us, as to your Wisdom shall seem proper, may forthwith be order'd to the Dens in the
Tower.
"
In witness whereof, all here present have set their Names as follow:
Saturday Night.
Given at the Hall belonging to our Company.
Order'd, That a Committee of the said Virgins do attend Mr.
Bickerstaff,
on the subject Matter of this Address, to Morrow in the Evening, between the Hours of Six and Ten.
Sign'd,
KIDNEY.
Thus, as I before hinted, the best Part of my Time is set apart for the Service and true Interest of the Fair. Many sleepless Nights, and Days of Anxiety, they have cost me. Yet for all this, I do not find that I have any Degree of Interest in their Persons, or any Restraint upon their Conduct. Not a Furbelow has been sunk, nor a Yard of Whalebone parted with, to oblige me. Even my most gentle Corrections and Penny-Post Intimations, have met with Neglect, Scorn and Defiance.
Bellaria
is a provoking Instance of this Kind; it has in good Earnest stood me in Three-Pence to reform her, and I do not find that she is One Farthing the better for it. She is young, 'tis true, and may live to be wiser: As her Beauty goes off, Prudence perhaps will grow upon her; but to be discreet in the Height of her Charms, would be a much greater Merit. She knows the Faults I have charged her with, and must thank her self if she should hereafter oblige me to be more open and particular.
Sempronia,
with the same Aggravation, continues to be haughty, insolent, and unnatural. She is the Mother of Five beautiful Children, the eldest not above Seven Years Old, whom she never speaks to, but with a Design to teize them, and uses worse than any Animals that belong to her. Going to her Coach the other Day, she observ'd Two or Three of them diverting themselves in the Hall, and turning to her People, asked the Reason why those Brats lay litt'ring about the House. Miss
Molly
was severely whip'd within this Week, for calling her Mother behind her back; and Master
Neddy
taken from Table, for seeming only to want his Dinner before the
Italian
Greyhound had been fed.
I have met with a Case yet more extraordinary, and which has given me much Uneasiness; Tho' I cannot say of so Criminal a Nature as the latter. Taking a Turn in the
Park
about a Month since, I saw a Paper lie upon the Ground, which I had the Curiosity to stoop for, and found to be a
Recipe.
For
Clorinda.
Vineagar of Squills,
Verjuice; Of each Five Ounces.
Oyl of Vitriol, as much as is sufficient.
Six Spoonfuls of this Mixture to be taken every Morning; Plain Coffee, or Water-gruel, for common Drink.
R. B.
A. C.
I was very much surpris'd at so odd a Prescription, and having formerly had the Honour to know the Lady for whose Use it was intended, cou'd not help inquiring into the Occasion of it: With some Difficulty I inform'd my self, that
Clorinda,
whom all the World admir'd, was very lately displeas'd with her own Person. Some good natur'd Friend, it seems, had put it in her Head that she was growing too fat, and in a little Time wou'd be out of all Shape. This sufficiently alarm'd her, and from a Gaiety of Temper, that was peculiar to her, she fell into Spleen, Vapours, and a Thousand imaginary Disquiets. There was no Absurdity so gross that her Fears did not impose upon her. As she pass'd the Streets in her Chair, she expected every Moment that the Fellows wou'd sink under their Burden, and wou'd often say to her self,
Bless me, how the poor Creatures blow!
My Lady
Kill-Chairman
's Shape was become the Object of her Envy, as it had formerly been the Subject of her Ridicule. In short, a Consultation of the most eminent Physicians was resolv'd on, and a Course of Acids,
Cum Regimine,
was, it seems, the Result of it. As soon as this came to my Knowledge, I sent
Clorinda
a Letter, full of such pressing Remonstrances, as the Occasion suggested to me. I conjur'd her with all the Tenderness of a Gallant, not to suffer so much Beauty to be lost to the World, by being over-curious to preserve it; nor that Bloom to wither thro' an irreligious Mortification of her self.
After taking so much Pains, to see my Advice neglected, and other Measures pursu'd, has, I own, sensibly touch'd me, both as an old Man, and a graduate Physician. However, it is yet in the Power of
Clorinda
to retrieve what is pass'd: She has nothing more to do than to eat, drink, and sleep, to make her self again the Joy of her Friends, the Desire of Mankind; and what is yet greater, (without Vanity be it said) to be heartily forgiven by the Censor of
Great Britain.
The TATLER. [No 7.
His Lachrymis Vitam damus, & miserescimus ultro.
Virg.
From
Thursd. Febr.
1. to
Saturd. Febr.
3. 1710.
From my own Apartment,
February 2.
'TIS a common Mistake, tho' of very ill Consequence, that many Failings and Infirmities are too closely woven into our Constitutions ever to be removed by any Pains or Application of our own. Had I suffer'd my self to believe this, I had been now one of the peevishest old Fellows, as I was formerly one of the most passionate Youths, in the World. Till the Age of Sixteen I was never in good Humour two Hours together. I thought my self affronted by every one I met, and grew into a Proverb for the Violence of my Resentments. I no sooner came to the Use of my Reason, but I began to cool apace, and have ever since preserved such an Evenness of Temper as is not easily ruffled, and which, under the greatest Difficulties and Distresses, has made me superior to them all.
I remember one Thing of my self in the Days of my Minority that was pleasant enough: Whenever any Body had done me an ill Office, I used, in the Bitterness of my Heart, to wish my self Parson of the Parish for their Sake. He, I observed, had once a Week the Privilege of speaking his Mind in publick, and of telling his Parishioners their own. This, I thought, was a mighty Relief to his Spleen, and indeed the Doctor made Use of it as if he had been of the same Opinion. He had a particular Felicity in finding out Texts to his Purpose, and no one Offence could be committed against him, that did not appear the next
Sunday
to be literally forbidden in Scripture. The Top Gentleman in the Parish having one Day made him a Visit in a striped Night-Gown, he looked upon this
Dishabilee
as a Mark of Contempt; and the very next Time the Pulpit was his own, giving a Side-Glance towards the 'Squire's Pew, he pronounced with a loud Voice,
Stripes are for the Backs of Fools,
&c. A poor Taylor had cabbaged some black Cloth that was put into his Hands, and the Text chosen for his Reprimand was,
Hell and Destruction are before them;
though towards the End of the Discourse it was allowed, that
a Remnant should be saved.
This petulant Humour of prostituting a publick Capacity to particular Resentments, is what I have industriously avoided throughout the whole Course of my Lucubrations. After the many Observations I have made upon humane Nature, it is, I confess, some Pleasure to communicate them to the Publick in the Manner I have chose to do it: But, unless in Cases where my Reputation has been openly attacked, I have never once interested the World in any Disputes relating to my self. Every Body knows what Provocations Mr.
Powell
gave me, and in how crowded a Theatre, before I would descend to take any Notice of him. When I did, it was in such a Manner, I thought, as all Controversy ought to be managed between Scholars and Gentlemen. Mr.
Morphew
and Mr.
Lillie
obliged me to draw my Pen against them by a Piece of Ingratitude that is hardly to be matched in History. I had always treated those Persons with a Respect due to their Characters, and as our Interests were mutual, I flattered my self that our Affections were so too. I know I shall suffer in the Opinion of some unforgiving People, when I make it known, that after such repeated Indignities I have again taken them into Favour. But as the following Petition was introduced to me by some of the first Quality in this Kingdom, I can deny nothing to their Commands, nor indeed to the Dictates of my own Humanity.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
undoubted Censor of the Kingdom of
Great Britain.
The Petition of
John Morphew,
Stationer, and
Charles Lillie,
Perfumer,
Humbly sheweth,
THat whereas during your Honour's late Retirement in the remoter Parts of this Kingdom, we the said
Charles Lillie
and
John Morphew,
by and through the Means of evil and clandestine Practices, Insinuations, and Instigations, set on Foot by the avow'd Enemies of your Person and Authority, were unhappily moved and seduced to forfeit the Duty we owed to Both, by printing, publishing, dispersing, and causing to be dispersed, several false, spurious, and illiterate Papers, as well as by affixing your Honour's Name thereunto: We do hereby humbly crave Leave to throw our selves at your Feet, in such Manner and Posture as you in your Wisdom shall judge most suitable to our late Offences: Further craving, That we your Petitioners may be restored to our former Places, together with all the Fees, Profits, and Perquisites thereof. In order to which, we, in the most humble Sense of our Crimes, and fill'd with a deep and hearty Sorrow for the same, do beg for our selves and for each other, That the Suspension now lying on the said
Charles Lillie,
as also the late Sentence of Deprivation pronounced on the said
John Morphew,
may be cancell'd and revers'd, in full Form, Order and Method, pursuant to the Rules and Statutes of the Court.
And your Petitioners shall ever pray,
&c.
And the said Petitioners were restored,
&c.
according to the Tenor and Meaning of the abovewritten Petition.
Sign'd,
Charles Lillie.
It was an infinite Pleasure to me the Day after I had reinstated the Petitioners, to see the Faces of my old Officers about me. However, I would not have Mr.
Kidney
be in the least discouraged. The little Time he has been in Employment has raised in me a just Esteem for his good Qualities; and it is for his Sake that I give the following Advertisement a Place in this Part of my Paper:
At St.
James
's Coffeehouse is to be spoken with a young Man, who can give a good Account of himself, and has by long Pains and Study, acquired many useful Qualifications. He perfectly understands the Art of making all Sorts of warm Liquors, has made great Proficiency in Geography, Politicks, and Arithmetick, writes several good Hands, and can toss up a Ragoo, if Occasion be. He can shave, dress, tie up a Periwig, or take the Distance of Places. He is willing to go abroad and see the World with any young Gentleman that travels next Spring, or to be a Tutor in a Man of Quality's Family.
Before I conclude, I am to acquaint my Readers, That as I have again received my old Servants, I have likewise renewed my former Resolution of continuing this Work three Times a Week; so, advising Mrs.
A. Baldwin
to use great Industry in her Business, I bid her heartily Farewel.
N. B.
Having commissioned my Printer to distinguish this Paper by what Number he thinks proper, I must observe, That from
Jan.
2. those only of Numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, belong to this Set, in order to compleat the Fifth Volume of these Lucubrations.
The TATLER. [No 8.
— Negotia centum
Per Caput, & circa saliunt Latus.
Hor.
From
Saturday Febr.
3. to
Tuesday Febr.
6. 1710.
From my own Apartment,
February 5.
THat Activity or Restlesness of Thought, that Desire of doing something, which is natural to almost every Body, does, when rightly applied, give Birth to many great and noble Enterprizes; but when it falls under the Direction of a fantastical Judgment, it becomes troublesome and ridiculous to all the World. On one Side, it contributes to the Characters of the greatest Generals, and the wisest Statesmen; and on the other, it furnishes publick Conversations with Busy Bodies and Buffoons. I have observed
Will Worthless
for a long Time about this Town labouring under a prodigious Impatience of being distinguish'd as a Man of some Sort of Figure or other. At his first coming from the University, he set up for a great Unbeliever; for which Reason, as likewise because he was afraid to be in a Room by himself, he spent most of his Time at the
Graecian.
But not arriving to any great Eminence in Infidelity, he turned himself with great Application to the Calling of a Virtuoso. To equip himself for this, he travel'd twice into
Italy,
from whence, at great Expence, he brought back a solemn Face, with the Reputation of knowing as much as he did when he went out. Being now greatly accomplish'd for the Service of his Country, he thought it was high Time to take Care of the Constitution; and to that End, without Fear or Wit, leap'd at once over Head and Ears into publick Business. From that Time to this he has liv'd in a profess'd Course of Gravity. I have had more frequent Opportunities of conversing with him than I could have wish'd. For taking me by my Age to be a Man for his Purpose, he has in a Manner forced himself upon my Acquaintance. He has told me with great Frankness, That he thinks it below a reasonable Man either to laugh or drink Wine, and that he has laid down some Rules to himself as essential to the Character he affects:
"To preserve a stedfast Countenance, to whisper in Coffee-houses, to shave but twice a Week, and to wear but one Loop to his Hat; to read nothing but the Votes, and to keep Company with his Father. He has sometimes said with as much Pleasure as his Face is capable of, Well, Mr.
Bickerstaff,
nothing sure is so solid a Satisfaction as Business—For my Part, I love it so well, that I can't like a Proposal the worse for having been rejected;"
and to do him Justice, he has been a true Friend to distressed Projects, and as good as a Father to Bills in Disgrace. He receives more Petitions than a First Minister, and solicits the Affairs of all the mad Beggars about Town.
Monday
last I was obliged upon some Business to go to his Levee. I found with him, over Bohea and Bread and Butter, Justice
Upperside
and Sir
Paul Marmalade.
Upon my coming in, Mr.
Worthless,
who sate next the Fire, rose up and forced me into his Chair. The Justice, with an innocent Smile in his Face, and his Cane at his Mouth, said,
"Mr.
Bickerstaff,
you can tell us; Pray, Sir, what are all these Insurances upon Births and Marriages, will they come to any Thing or no? Before I could answer, he went on, Why really, Sir, I would be glad Gentlemen would consider, every Nation consists chiefly of Men and Women. How! says Sir
Paul,
do you make nothing of Children?"
The Justice, shaking his Head, said,
"My good Friend Sir
Paul,
you don't take me; but what I would offer, is this, If Marriages are hindered, Procreation in a legal Way will cease, and the Consequence of that every one knows. However, if no Body else takes Notice of it, I am sure I shan't—'Tis not my Business to find Faults'—
Mr.
Worthless
stopping him short, cried,
"Pray take me along with you; for unless the Persons marrying be equal to the Persons married, where is your Ballance? For I take it, a Nation may be over as well as under married."
"Well, says Sir
Paul,
I don't love disputing in Company, but you would have a hard Matter to make that out."
This weighty Conversation was interrupted by Captain
Mystery,
who came in from his Round of Levees, with a Face of great Hurry and Importance:
"Gentlemen, says he, you little think where I have been this Morning—Hark you Mr.
Worthless,
a Word in your Ear. All out—Ships—Command—A Blockhead and a Coward, and all their Hands to it—'Tis a little hard tho' that neither Side should take any Notice of one'—
This was all I overheard of his Whisper, when a Servant came and told Mr.
Worthless,
there were several People at the Door who desired to speak with his Honour. Leave of Audience being given, the first that entered was Don
Cavaliero de Tristo Figure.
The Solemnity of his Air, joined with the miserable Habit he was in, was a most exquisite Burlesque upon the Humour of his Country. He had in his Hand a Bundle of Papers, much obscured with Filth, and of a Fragrancy not to be endured. These he presented to the Patriot, who gave me to understand, that they contained a short and easy Expedient to settle the House of
Austria
on the Throne of
Spain,
whispering at the same Time, that he verily believed this Gentleman to be of the Blood Royal.
The next, as I understood from him, was one Mrs.
James,
a little ancient Gentlewoman, in a Pair of very high Pattins, who, with much Anxiety and Hunger in her Countenance, desired his Honour, with a low Voice, and in a Language that I hardly understood,
"To attend her Business in the House, for that it was now just ready to come on;"
and it seems it has been in the same Forwardness for these Thirty Years past. She withdrew with great Humility, and repeated Courtesies, to make Room for a Third. Mr.
Worthless
took me aside, and told me,
"That this was a Gentleman who in his younger Days studied the Law; but having failed in that, had now put himself into the fantastical Habit I saw, and under it was one of the deepest Heads in the World. He has attended me, says he, these Three Years, with a Project to save
England,
and I know not yet whether I shall bring it to bear."
I was by this Time heartily tired, and in proper Form took Leave of the Company, not knowing whether I ought most to commiserate the Misfortunes of these poor Wretches, or contemn and expose the Follies of their Patron.
The TATLER. [No 9.
Hanc tua Penelope —
Ovid. Epist.
In nova fert Animus mutatas dicere formas
Corpara —
Ovid. Met.
From
Tuesday Febr.
6. to
Thursday Febr.
8. 1710.
From my own Apartmen in
Channel-Row,
Febr. 7.
I Have prefix'd Two Motto's, as they call 'em, to this Paper; not so much to shew my Learning, as to apprise the Reader, that I pretend to no Connexion or Uniformity in it. I had indeed prepared another for the Press, but about an Hour before the Printer called upon me, I chanced to look into a little Coffee-house in our Row, where I found lying open upon the Table the following Epistle, a Steel Ring of Keys, and a Brass Seal with an Anchor engraved on it on one Side, and a short Piece of dirty Sealing-Wax on the other. I was so pleased with the Style and Orthography of it, that I could not but wonder at the Carelesness of the Person who, as I supposed, after writing an Answer, had left so valuable a Piece behind him; and knowing no readier Way to put it into his Hands again, resolved to make it publick by the first Opportunity.
Brandford.
Loving Hub,
I Hop you got safe to Toun, for they says there are Rouges upon the Rode. I long till you come back, for 'tis vary unked to ly alone. The Childern be all very well; but
Biddy
have a sad fore I. Pray by a Neklase at the
Quld Exchang
for
Fanny:
Her Gooms swell, and she is very teechy and froard; may hap it may make her cut her Teeth. Mr.
Snag
's Child had one, and she was born, as I take it, about last Pescodtime, and yet have all her Teeth amost, thof some be forwarder than others, so it does not follow.
Nikin
has deadly Kibe Heels this could Wether; so that he cannot go to Skole. His Mistriss was here last Night, and says how that he comes on finely: He has got as far as ef aready, and have been but ten Weeks at Skole: 'Tis Pitty he should lose his Larning. I promust
Dilly
a fine Plaything. I would have something baut that will cost but a Shillun. I believe you may have the Man that plays upon the Music with the Hounds and Stag for that Money. Pray don't forget the Seven Pound of Gingerbred; and if you could get but the two first Letters of my Name in Gold upon it, it would look well. Remember to buy the Cradle, the Go-Cart, and the Magpy-Cage, of all Love: They may be braut by the Choch, if you wool promise the Man a Full Pot at the Packhorse. Give my Service to my Cousin
Mevis,
and to
Alse Snorsdale,
and remember my kind Love to Mr.
Thornaby
and his Wife. You forgot your Woolen Sox, your quilted Cap, and your Showing Horn. You shall be sure to have them; which concludes all, being,
Dear Hubby,
Yours till Death,
Judith Corkin.
Pray send me Word what Day of the M
it is: There is a Wagar between my Neighbou
Pocklinton
and I of a Tankard of Butter'd A
about it. I says 'tis the Third of
Febry,
she say
'tis the last of
Ge
ry,
and that our Aumina
don't go well, and yet 'twas bran nu but Tw
Yeer ago.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Consor of
Great Britain,
Student in Physick,
&c.
Wadham College, Oxon,
Febr.
SIR,
THough I happen to be descended from a Melancholy Father, and a Hypochondrix Mother, I was not till my Fortieth Year made sensible that Infirmities of this Kind are communicated from Parents to their Children. 'Twas about that Time that the College Clock running mightily in my Head, I could not help fancying my self to be so nearly related to it, that I was obliged not to speak but when that strook. My Cousin, the Clock happening soon after to be down with a Disorder, I heard nothing of him for a Week together, during which Time I could not be prevailed upon to speak one Syllable; and it being my Turn to read a publick Lecture, I was forced to send my Excuse in Writing.
This Fit going off, I was my self for Half a Year afterwards; but sitting much by the Common-Room Fire, I had a strange Fancy that I was a Poker, and if any Body talked of filling a Pipe, I immediately moved off for fear they should make Use of me to light it. Upon the least Indisposition, I had no Notion of going to any Body but the Smith to be mended. After this, I took my self for the College Gate, and lay under a constant Apprehension of being severely thumped at all Hours of the Night. Would you think it, Sir? At last this Whim went so far, that I verily believed my self to be your Paper, the
Tatler,
Then, though I had sometimes the Pleasure of thinking that I was mightily commended, at others I had inexpressible Fears. I fancied, that a Friend of mine who had taken Physick, was looking for me high and low on a very unworthy Occasion, and was wonderfully delighted when my Brother, the
Gazette,
was made Use of in my Stead. I was often vexed at my Heart to be hung almost all over with Advertisements of Insurances, Morning-Gowns, Lap-Dogs, and Lottery Tickets, and now and then had terrible Uneasiness for having made bold with my Betters. Being at length pretty well recovered of this Fit, I thought it advisable to come to
London
and take Care of my Health: But as I was going to the Coach, to my great Surprize, I found my self turned into a Foot-ball, and at the Mercy of a Pack of Scoundrels, who, without any Regard to the Dignity of my former Characters, kicked me from one End of the
High-street
to the other. During this last Misfortune, I have been made the unwilling Instrument of breaking many Windows, and once of flying in the Face of a Civil Magistrate. For this Reason I am, as you may very well imagine, ashamed to shew my Head; and being from my Spherical Figure incapable of Writing my self, I have begged a Friend to consult you in my Name upon this my deplorable Condition, and to tell you, that I hope in some Time I shall be able to assure you of my being my own Man, and
Your most obliged, And most humble Servant,
Peter Proteus.
Recipe Caballum, [Anglice]
take Horse.
This Day about Twelve in the Forenoon, the new Company of Upholders, the Company of Linen-Drapers, together with the true and trusty Society of Hawkers, introduced by
John Morphew,
presented to
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
by the Hands of their Foremen their several Addresses of Congratulation on his Return to Town, and Reassumption of his Office, which Addresses the Censor received very favourably, and will shortly cause to be printed.
Whereas Mr.
Bickerstaff
has just now received three Letters, signed,
D. P. W. C. M. M.
offering to make Discovery of several Enormities, as Cascades, double Cascades, oblique Ogles, and other indirect Practices, very lately carried on in the Palace of St.
James
's, to the great Scandal and Provocation of as many as were Eye-Witnesses of the same: The said
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
doth hereby declare, That he will in no wise intermeddle therein; further declaring, That he doth not presume, either by himself or his Officers, to exercise any Power, Authority it Jurisdiction, within the Verge of the said Court.
Sign'd,
Charles Lillie.
The TATLER. [No 10.
Haec data Poena diu viventibus, ut renovata
Semper Clade Domus multis in Luctibus inque
Perpetuo Maerore, & nigra Veste senescant.
Juv.
From
Thursday Febr.
8. to
Saturd. Febr.
10. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 9.
ONE or two of my last Papers having made it known that I am removed from by old Lodgings in
Sheer-Lane,
I have on that Occasion received Letters from two Correspon
ents of very different Sentiments. One of
hem wishes me Joy of a clearer Air, and more
leasing Situation; the other is so free as to
all me a restless, unquiet old Fellow, and a
ain Pretender to Philosophy. Hard Fate of
hose who happen to have distinguished them
elves in the World, that their minutest Actions
ust be discanted on, and every little Motion
hey make be publickly accounted for! If the
entleman who is so severe upon me would
o me the Favour of a Visit, he would be con
nced that I have changed for the better. I
ave from hence a Prospect filled with such a
ariety of Entertainments, that I am almost
mpted in my old Age to turn Poet for the
ke of it. As a Lover of my Country, it is a
nsible Pleasure to me, from the Nobleness of the River, and Magnificence of the Structures, to measure the Wealth and Grandeur of the
British
Nation. In the Capacity of Censor, I consider this huge Mass of Buildings as my own Province, and am in a Manner directed by my Eye to the Execution of my Office, as I apprehend this or that Part of the Metropolis to stand in Need of Correction. But these, alas
were not the principal Inducements that brought me hither. Old Age, and an unhealthy Winter, have taken from me most of my Friends in the other Part of the Town, whom Time
a long Acquaintance had rivetted into my Esteem, and made almost necessary to my Way of Living.
They were not Men indeed whom I ever admired for a ready Turn of Wit, or the Vivarity of their Conversation, which, to say Truck are but the Embellishments of a good Understanding, and serve rather to divert and
than to indear us to one another. It is for this Reason, that, in the large Commerce I have had with Mankind, it has been my Way to prefer Men of steady Judgment, even Tempers, cool and indolent Complexions, to those of excessive Smartness, Humour, and Repartee; there being something in the constant Society of the latter, that loosens and unhing
the Mind from the more serious Offices of Life, and at the same Time keeps it upon
Stretch in idle and unprofitable Pursuits.
Trusty,
on this as well as many other Accou
has ever preserved the first Place in my Affections. Living himself in this Neighbourhood, be in a great Measure determined
to the Choice of it; and to him I have left th
Naming of Two or Three Companions, wi
whom I may, in an innocent Chearfulness
the Remainder of my Time. Th
first he introduced to me is a Clergyman of about Sixty, who, it seems, has passed Thirty Years of his Life on a moderate Preferment in the Country, without ever solliciting or desiring a Removal. His Children are grown up, and by his good Management provided for. He has been for some Time a Widower, and being very much worn with the constant Duties of his Function, was with Difficulty prevailed on to leave a Curate on his Benefice, and come up to Town, where his eldest Daughter is settled, and with whom he now lives. My Friend tells me, That he was never known to have a Law Suit or Difference with any of his Parishioners; That he was ever making up Quarrels, and doing good. Offices in the Neighbourhood; That he had been often left sole Guardian to Orphans, and discharged his Trust with the utmost Fidelity; That he constantly visited the Sick, and having some Knowledge in Physick, and the Composition of Medicines, had assigned Part of his Income to that Use. When he came first to the Place, there was a Conventicle hard by, which had drawn away most of the People from the Church; but by the Exemplari
ess of his Life, his great Hospitality for so
lender a Fortune, and the Gentleness of his Nature, joined with the Force of his Perswa
ons, the People returned by Degrees, the Dissenting Minister went off, and the Barn
hey met in was applied to its proper Use.
I was pleased with the Figure of the Man as
e came into my Room, somewhat tall, incli
ing to be lean, his Hair grey, of a fair but flo
d Complexion, with a certain Sweetness and
mplicity in his Countenance.
In our Conversation he seemed to shew that Sort of Diffidence which usually attends Men of the best Sense, after having passed their Lives in Retirement. Upon all Occasions he submitted with great Deference to me, as one who had studied Humane Nature, and atta
ed to a perfect Knowledge of the World. After an Hour's Talk, having industriously led him through several Subjects, I found him to be of an excellent Understanding, cultivated by the Knowledge of the best Author of Antiquity, and of a perfect good Taste to point out their Beauties. Amongst the rest, he shewed me many Instances of the Sublime in the Holy Writings, which I had not heard any one before observe; so that upon the Whole, all the Difference I could find between us both in Point of knowing the World, was, that he had been chiefly conversant with the best Part of it, and I with the worst.
This Day Sevennight in the Morning Mr.
Trusty
presented me another new Acquaintance:
"Mr.
Bickerstaff,
says he, this is Dr. — I know you will be pleased with one another."
Having never heard the Name before, I concluded him not very eminent in his Profession. He had no Haste in his Countenance, and sate with me above two Hours without any visible Impatience to be going. He appeared to have Abundance of good Nature without the sneaking mercenary Affectation of it, and mentioned with Honour as many of his own Profession as are allowed to deserve it. He received no Message all the while we were together; and I observed particularly, that he discoursed often as if he believed Revealed Religion. We dined together, and he carved up a Pullet without reading a Lecture of Anatomy upon it. He seemed to be of a facetious Wit, and after a few Glasses of Wine would now and then let off a Quibble, without thinking it any Disparagement to his Understanding. I took the first Opportunity to enquire of my Friend into the Character of this Gentleman, whose Account was, That he had many Years belonged to the Faculty, that he was an admirable Scholar, and very knowing in his Profession; but being born a Gentleman, and to a competent Fortune of his own, he disdained the servile Ways of making Court to Nurses and Apothecaries, and therefore his chief Practice lay among the Poor. He never valued his Reputation equal to the Life of a Patient, and often preserved the latter, though by transgressing against Form and Method. He was once coming into Business, but lost it by perswading his Patients they were not sick, and refusing their Fees.
The other Mr.
Trusty
has recommended to me, is a young Gentleman under Twenty, and a Nephew of his own. His Person is graceful, his Eyes quick and lively, the Tone of his Voice agreeable, his Look open, affable and serene, his Constitution vigorous and sanguine, his Air, Dress and Behaviour, easy, modest and unaffected. He has been bred under the Care and Direction of his Uncle, who, I remember, often used to say to me,
"I will undertake,
Isaac,
to make this Boy have as much useful Knowledge at Nineteen, as you or I have at Fifty."
This he has effected beyond what I could possibly have conceived, and the Methods he has taken to do it, shall hereafter in one or more of these Papers be communicated to the Publick. In the mean Time, it is an infinite Delight to me to find this young Man frequently making such just Observations as are in others the Result of long Experience; to hear him reason closely without Prejudice, Passion or Conceit; at other Times to see him gay, chearful and entertaining, without running into indecent Liberty, or straining for the Character of a Wit; and upon all Occasions to observe in him a generous Detestation of every Thing that is base and unworthy, an Integrity founded on good Sense, and superior to every Temptation. What inexpressible Pleasure must arise from the Reflection of having furnished the World with so extraordinary a Person? who, if his Merit does not hinder him, may, for half a Century, in the highest Stations, and most honourable Employments, be of publick Importance to the World.
The Letter from
Drumstick
and
Trencher,
of
Edenburgh,
is received, and shall shortly be taken into Consideration.
The TATLER. [No 11.
From
Saturd. Febr.
10. to
Tuesd. Febr.
13. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 12.
SItting last Night over a chearful Fire, and a Glass of
Spanish
Wine, with my Friend
Samuel Trusty,
I happened to say, with a Freedom peculiar to our Manner of Conversing, that I could not but admire our mutual Constancy in the Friendship that had so long been between us.
"Why, 'tis right,
Isaac,
says he, and I hope we may look upon it as an Argument of Virtue on both Sides. For my own Part, I do not remember that I ever wished my self from you when our Affairs would give us Leave to be together."
But this Agreement, says I, is so far from being common in the World, that if the Institution at
Dunmowe
were in Favour of Friendship, as it is of Matrimony, I am confident there are few besides our selves would have any Right to the
Pramium.
"No, (says he) and I remember a Story of two pretty remarkable Friends of our own Time that you remind me of on this Occasion. They had lived some time about Town, and being weary of mixed Company, Noise, and Impertinence, agreed to retire where they might without Interruption enjoy one another.
Nottingham
was the Place resolved on; but they had not continued there a Week in close and constant Conversation, before they grew insufferably sick of each other. Some Third Person must be engaged into their Relief, and being accidentally lodged in a House next the Gaol, where a Cup of good Liquor was to be had, they sent a Message to the Gaoler, to tell him, if he was at Leisure, there were two Gentlemen that were alone would come and smoak a Pipe with him. Being otherwise employed, he sent his Excuse. Upon which they went in Person, and asked him, If there was never an honest Highwayman in the House that would be glad of Company? He told them he was quite out at present, and that if it was to save their Lives, he had no Body but an old Woman that was under Sentence of Death for exercising the Black Art, and he was sure they would not take up with her. He happened to be mistaken, for they immediately obtained Leave to go down into the Dungeon, and there solaced themselves with Ale, Brandy, and the Society of this poor unfortunate Creature, till within two Hours of her Execution.'
What a Levity of Mind is this, that will not suffer us to acquiesce in the most reasonable Enjoyments of Life? What a Want of Principle, Reflection, and ordinary Resolution? As one every Day sees the wretched Effects of this viciated Taste in Conversation, Dress, and Behaviour; I for my own Part am made more particularly sensible of them in the Prosecution of this Work. To say as much as is proper on the same Subject, is wearing it out, as they call it; and a Half Sheet without Four or Five Breaks has a dull heavy Look, and is offensive to the Eyes of curious Readers; so that for their Relief, more than my own, I am forced sometimes to diversify my Paper, by dating it from several Parts of the Town; or else, which is my present Case, to call in the Assistance of such Correspondents as come first to Hand.
To Mr.
Isaac Bickerstaff,
alias — —
Saturday,
Two of the Clock.
SIR,
I Think it not of much Consequence whether your
Isaacship
be real or assumed, much less whether the Papers you publish are your own, or chiefly raised by Contribution from able Hands. As to the first of these Objections, I confess for my own Part, that I am not the less diverted or instructed by a Fable for knowing that it is such, but have often found my self bettered and entertained by the imaginary Conversations of
Chanticleer
and
Reynard
the Fox. For the other, if you are as little fond of Praise as a good and wise Man ought to be, you will content your self with being, in any Sort, the Instrument of doing a Service to Mankind, without expecting or desiring their Applause for it: Though perhaps it may hereafter reflect some Honour on your Name, that in an Age when Wit and Learning were at a great Height in this Kingdom, you were admitted to a Degree of Intimacy with the Top Genius's of it, and at the same Time had so much Regard to the Publick, as always to prefer their Writings to your own. To tell you the Truth, I am at present more sollicitous about the Existence of another Person than that of Mr.
Bickerstaff,
and would enquire very seriously of you, Whether there be really any such young Gentleman in the World as is described in the
Tatler
of this Day. I confess my self very much enamour'd with the Copy, (if I may so speak) and will venture to offer my eldest Daughter, who is young, beautiful and virtuous, with Eight thousand Pounds Sterling, for the Original. Rather than fail, I would stretch hard for the other Two; but I conjure you, Sir, not to make this Letter publick, which if you answer privately, and to my Satisfaction, by the Penny-Post, I will afterwards meet either your self, or wh
you shall depute, to talk further on this Affair. My true Name shall be a Secret till I hear from you. In the mean Time give me Leave to be
Your most humble Servant, (Under that of)
W. Wealthy.
Please to direct to me at
Lindert
's Chocolate-house in
King-Street,
near
Bloomsbury-Square.
The
Alias
on the Cover of this Letter, the Omission of my Title on the same, as well as some Passages in the said Letter, leave me at full Liberty to treat both that and the Writer of it in what Manner I please: And I do hereby give Notice, That I will hereafter neither answer, read, open nor receive, nor suffer to be answered, read, opened nor received, any Letter or Pacquet otherwise directed than to
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
&c.
according to the Order by me formerly issued on that Behalf.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Charing-Cross,
Febr. 1710.
SIR,
I Am a Gentleman of the Broad Sword, and desire to be heard before your Honour touching a Point that nearly concerns mine, which is this: Being in Company this Evening with a Youth of more than ordinary Fire, he observed my Nose to be somewhat larger than his; upon which he took a Dislike to my Face, and towards the End of the Night could not forbear telling me, that he thought it an Affront to thrust the said Nose into civil Company. Without giving me Leave to answer for so inoffensive a Member, he instantly drew, and took off a Piece of it at once, that reduced it to the Size of his own. This I returned with so sound a Blow, that swelled his to the Bigness of mine before its Amputation. Now, Sir, the Question is, Whether I may not in
Honour
cut off his Nose in its present Circumstances, for the same Reason he did mine before? A speedy Decision whereof will oblige me to be for ever,
Your most obedient Servant,
Tho. Huff.
Ordered, That a Caustick be forthwith applied to the Nose of the Defendant, there to remain for the Space of Four Hours, and that the Plaintiff do attend the Operation; three Days after which, he the said Defendant is hereby summoned to appear in Court, there further to answer for the Offence by him committed before his Peers of the Horse-Guards.
The TATLER. [No 12.
— Praetextatos referunt Artaxata Mores.
Juv.
From
Tuesday Febr.
13. to
Thursd. Febr.
15. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 14.
IT is now something more than three Weeks since I issued forth my Order for the Election of Rural Censors throughout every Parish in the Kingdom of
Great Britain.
This, in most Places, has been punctually observed, and with great Regularity and Order; but in others it has produced Discord, Division, and Tumult. The last Post brought me an Account from
Smallworth, Wiltshire,
That there were actually Two Censors chosen for the
me Parish, who, upon all Occasions, unavoidably clash and interfere with each other. At
Bri
ewell
in
Hampshire
very indirect Practices have been made Use of, and a Person elected that had not lived Two Days in the Place. A bad Effect this of a most useful Institution! If Church-wardens and Sides-men are thus open to Corruption, where is Justice and Integrity to be found? The Love of Power is without Doubt very natural to us all, and there are many Temptations in the Office of a Censor to justifie the Desire of attaining to it: But to pursue this Ambition through unwarrantable Means, is in my Opinion no less absurd than criminal, because it defeats the very Purpose we have in View, and at once disqualifies us for the Employment we affect. It is a Violence to my Nature to act any Thing that is rigid and severe; but I very much question whether I shall not be shortly obliged to do exemplary Justice on the aforementioned Account. I have now under Consideration a great Number of Complaints from several Parts of the Kingdom, which in due Time shall be laid before the Publick. As for those Gentlemen who have been duly elected to so weighty a Post, I shall always treat them with a Regard due to their Character; and as the following Remonstrance came first to my Hands, it does of Course claim Precedency of all others.
Fatland,
Febr. 1.
Honoured Sir,
YOur Order, dated the 13th of
January,
came to Hand the 18th of the same Month; and within the Time by you limited, the Church-wardens and Sidesmen of this our Parish of
Fatland
repaired to the Vestry thereunto belonging; and having debated for the Space of Three Quarters of an Hour, without Eating or Drinking all that Time, they did then and there chuse, elect and nominate me
John Hart
Gent. to act in full Power and Authority as Rural Censor of the said Parish, and did notify the same to me by
Jeremiah Solfa,
Clerk of the said Parish, who, by Order of the said Church wardens and Sides-men, having first washed his Hands and Face, attended me to the Vestry in Form and Manner by them prescribed; where being introduced, and the Door shut, they did unanimously vote, pronounce, and declare me the said
John Hart
to be from and after the Time then being Rural Censor for the said Parish of
Fatland,
and accordingly entered this their Act and Deed in a Book provided for that Purpose.
I am very sensible, Honoured Sir, how unworthy I am to represent so great a Man as your self in so high a Station, having little more to brag of than the Honesty of my Intentions, and a hearty Desire to be serviceable to my Country. I will be bold to say, that no Body shall outdo me in those Points, whatever they may in some others. Since I have come into Employment, it has been my whole Business to observe and remark carefully the Behaviour of my Fellow Parishioners, which is for the most Part as I could wish. I was always well esteemed among them, but upon this Preferment I am in a Manner worshipped. I have already been invited to Two Christenings, and several Junketings, which I hope will be no Reflection upon my Character, having heard, that you your self, Sir, will take a chirping Cup upon Occasion. I shall endeavour to imitate you in all Things, though I am apt to think I shall hardly ever write so well as you do; not but I have had some Education, and might by this Time have been a pretty Scholar, if my Father had not wanted me in the Stables, and for that Reason taken me from School. As I was saying, Sir, I am mightily respected at present, and very often dine with the best Gentleman in the Parish, in whose Family I have observed some Matters which I think it my Duty to acquaint you with. His eldest Daughter, Mrs.
Susan,
and his second Son, Mr.
B
naby,
who had before lived altogether in the Country, have been up at
London
Three Weeks of this Winter, and by the Improvements they have made there, are become a Trouble to the whole Neighbourhood. The young Lady takes upon her to laugh at every Thing, and every Body that comes in her Way, and is ever and anon twitting the good Lady her Mother with having never seen any Thing of the World. I believe, if the Truth were known, she has invented Fifty Fooleries in her Dress, on Purpose to bring 'em into Fashion, and in Process of Time make the whole County ridiculous. The very Heels of her Shoes are laced, her Head not above an Inch high; she has Stuff enough in her Petticoat to cloath all her Brothers and Sisters, and at the same Time is naked her self half Way down her Back. I observed t'other Day a little Spoon in her Snuff-Box, and could not help asking her, Whether she hid it there upon a Report we had lately about calling in the Plate?
The young Gentleman is to the full as bad in his Way: His Cloaths are intolerably apish and fantastical, and he will face us down, that a Thousand of the same Make were seen on Her Majesty's Birth-Day. He has brought down a Set of new Words, to the great Confusion of common Conversation, and pretends, that he had them from the Top Wits of the Age. He talks of Plays, Opera's, and Assemblies, as he calls 'em, to every Farmer he meets; and, instead of the Queen and Church, makes all his Father's Tenants toast the charming Dutchess of — upon their Knees. These and many other Grievances of the same Kind, are, in these young Gentlefolks, the Effects of having seen the World; which, as in Duty bound, I humbly offer to your Consideration; and remain,
Honoured Sir,
Your most Obedient, And most Dutiful, Deputy and Servant,
John Hart.
The TATLER. [No 13.
Non possum ferre Quirites
Graecam Urbem.
Juv.
From
Thursd. Febr.
15. to
Saturd. Febr.
17. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 16.
IT is certain that most of our Errors, whether in Conversation or Conduct, are owing to Want of Reflection, and a right Way of Thinking. The Privilege of applying our Faculties that Way, is the noblest Distinction of our Nature, and of the last Consequence to the Regulation of our Lives. This I do not offer as a new Observation, but only as the general Neglect of it, and at the same Time the Importance of its being rightly understood, make it necessary to be put often in our Way. Whatever Improvements or Acquisitions we make without this Foundation, are but superficial and Ornamental at best, and will never support us through any Figure or Character in the World: For which Reason, when the Business of the Day, and the innocent Entertainments of the Evening are at an End, I constantly set apart an Hour at least to descend into my self, to weigh and examine my past Behaviour, and the Principles I have acted upon. The little Leisure I thus steal from the Publick is returned to them, by endeavouring to become more perfect in the several Relations I bear to Mankind.
In this Manner I was employing my Thoughts some Nights ago, when going towards my Window. I heard a Watchman in the Street cry,
Past Twelve of the Clock, and a Moon-light Morning.
Another, who came just after him, called the same Hour,
and a cloudy Morning.
He who had declared himself first, thinking his Veracity in Question, turned round in some Anger, and in a low sullen Voice gave the other the Lie. Words were multiplied upon it, and Blows followed. I immediately threw up my Sash, and had Authority enough to part them. For my own Part, I looked upon it to be a very bright Sky, and therefore gave the Fellow a Reprimand that had pronounced it otherwise: But when he assured me, that at the very Instant he did so, a Cloud was just coming over the Moon, the Cause was puzzled, and I did not know justly where to lay the Blame. However, having made up the Matter, I pulled down my Window, and retired to Bed. Before I fell asleep, I could not help reflecting on the Oddness of this Dispute, and to make it of some Use to my self, resolved I would never more engage in Controversy with Mr.
Powell
or any other Person.
Soon after I happened to have some Tryal of my Temper, for amongst other Letters, I received that which follows from my old Adversary Mr.
Powell.
SIR;
I Presume you will be convinced by this, that in attacking me you have ventured upon one who is something more than your Match, having lately had the Honour to furnish the House in the
Haymarkes
with half a Dozen of my Seas tack'd together, and a Sail of weather-beaten Ships, for the Opera of Et
. This I had never mentioned, but that the Persons, concerned therein, have had the Assurance to make frequent Use of Four hundred Yards and upwards of my old Waves, without so much as quoting me in the Margin.
Your humble Servant,
— Powell.
I could not but be much surprized at so extraordinary an Account, and doubting the Truth of it, went
incognito
the next Night to the House, where I found my Correspondent had but too good Grounds for triumphing over me in the Manner he had done.
After being heartily tired with the First Act, I had Leisure to consider the extraordinary Reception of these Foreign Entertainments, and the Discouragement of our own Musick. I could no otherwise account for it, than by having Recourse to a certain Journal that had a little before fallen into my Hands, in which I find, that on the First of
November
last the House of Ladies came to this Resolution:
Resolved, That Mr.
Waller
never writ a good Song, That Mr.
Clayton
cannot set one, no
Mrs.
Tofts
sing one.
In this Debate, I am told they all spoke, and all at once; so it being impossible for them to know what each other said, I could never learn the Reasons that induced that honourable House to pass so cruel a Vote. Two are chiefly alledged without Doors to justify this Severity. The First is, That our Language is so uncooth as not to be endured, and calculated only for Acts of Parliament. The Gentleman that made this Objection, appeared at my Court Yesterday, where being tried for Slander, after having made a smooth Defence in the
English
Tongue, he was found guilty, and sentenced to speak no other Words than
Otway
and
Waller
for the
Space
of Nine Days; as likewise to translate the
Mira
of Mr.
G—
into
High-Dutch.
The Second Reason, which is, the Want of Performers, has been pressed to me with all Assurance of Success: But the Persons who presumed so far, upon a very solemn Trial, were found guilty also by a very fair Jury, sentenced to beg Mrs.
Tofts
's and Mr.
Leveridge
's Pardon upon their Knees, and fined One thousand Pound each for the Use of the Queen of
Cyprus,
whose Treasures are exhausted, and her Territories invaded. I, who am advanced in Years, and have neither Leisure nor Application for the Attainment of a Language I as yet know little of, have more than ordinary Reason to be apprehensive of its encroaching too far upon us. Should it universally prevail, I am in a Manner debarred the Commerce of Mankind, and my Lucubrations of Course fall to the Ground. I could wish it were further considered, how great Sufferers a considerable Part of my Fellow-Subjects would be, if we took away only the Use of a few Words, and whether any that can be substituted in their Stead, would make Amends for the Loss. As for Instance, you deprive the Lover of
Angel, Goddess, Cupid, Charms, Darts, Flames, Fire, Sigh, Die:
'Tis plain he is undone for ever. Take from the Critick,
Delicacy of Thought, Turn of Words, Propriety of Speech, Diction, Image, Genius, Sublime:
The peevish Man will have very little left. Rob the Politician of
Ballance of Power, Limited Monarchy, Hereditary Right, Church, State, Ministry:
Most of the Coffee-houses would break, and even that of St.
James
's be very thin.
After all, I am credibly informed by some of the Royal Society, that there is something in the Formation of a Tramontane Ear, that will not suffer it to relish the Softness of
Italian
Airs; and further, that Sound it self, at so many Degrees Northward, was never known to come to perfect Maturity: Only that of Drums, Trumpets, Hautboys, and here and there as much of the Vocal as will serve to keep a private Family in Order, being of our own Growth, and agreeing tolerably well with the Climate.
For my Sentiments of Musick in General; fitly introduced, and in its proper Circumstances, I leave them to be expressed by
Shakespeare,
wanting Words of my own for that Occasion.
Antonio,
in the
Jew of Venice,
speaks thus to
Bassanio:
O Bassanio!
There sits a Heaviness upon my Heart
Which Wine cannot remove: I know not,
But Musick ever makes me thus.
The Reason is, your Spirits are attenti
:
For do but note a wild and wanton Herd
Or Race of skittish and unhandled Colts,
Fetching mad Bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
If they but hear by Chance some Trumpet sound,
Or any Air of Musick touch their Ears,
You strait perceive 'em make a mutual Stand,
Their savage Eyes turn'd to attentive Gaze,
By the soft Power of Musick: Therefore the Poet
Did feign, That
Orpheus
melted Stones and Rocks;
For what so hard, so stubborn, or so fierce,
But Musick for the Time will change its Nature.
The Man who has not Musick in his Soul,
Or is not touch'd with Concord of sweet Sounds,
Is fit for Treasous, Stratagems, and Spoils,
The Motions of his Mind are dull as Night,
And his Affections dark as
Erebus.
Let no such Man be trusted—
N. B.
Mr.
Bickerstaff
does not by this Paper
to interest himself in Mr.
Armstrong
's Challenge this Day advertis'd; but does hereby declare, that he is utterly averse to such violent Proceedings.
The TATLER. [No 14.
— Quid prodest, Pontice, longo
Sanguine censeri, pictos
que
ostendere Vultus
Majorum? —
Juv.
From
Saturd. Febr.
17. to
Tuesd. Febr.
20. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 19.
IT is observable of Men of base Extraction and low Education, that when they have any Thing in them of what the World calls good Sense, they turn it wholly to the getting of Money. They have but that one Point in View, and consequently overlook all either difficult or indirect Ways which lead to it.
If they attain their End, and become rich toward their middle Age, before they decline in Years, and decay in Strength, and that their Appetite of Getting is not yet turned into an Avarice of Hoarding, if they have any Fire remaining, they commonly feel themselves warmed with a Kind of Ambition of being Somebody, as well as Something. They find a Want of that Respect which they observe to be paid to such who are called Gentlemen, and Persons of Condition, though of small Fortunes. They would give any Consideration to be of an honourable Descent, and alter the Spelling of their Names to bring them on as near as possible to some Name or Seat of Antiquity. If that cannot be brought about, they push for a Knighthood, or an Alliance with some Family of Name or Title, whose Follies or Misfortunes have reduced them to match themselves or Children to Money, however basely lodged, or infamously obtained.
I fell into this Reflection after a Visit made me some Days since by one whom I remember to have known a Link-Boy, and who has often lighted me formerly from the
Green-Dragon
in
Fleet-street
to my Lodgings in
Sheer-lane.
We used to call him
Foundling,
a Name given him by his Godfather the Parish, and which he has not yet been able to part with, or vary, though he has found the Secret to be worth very near what they call a Plumb, and upon
'Change
has obtained the Appellation of a good Man. He came to me with much Frankness, owning both his past and present Circumstances; but what made me, smile, was, the Request he made me to accompany him to a House in our Row, where lives one
Randall
(as he called him)
a Creature Merchant.
This Person is a great Virtuoso, and deals in Birds and Beasts, though not either as a Butcher or Poulterer; for he nourishes nothing that is eatable, nor ever utters any Commodity but while it is alive.
As we walked towards this Virtuoso's Habitation, which I may call an Abridgment of the Ark, my Friend
Foundling
told me,
"He had purchased a fair Seat in the Country, That he had a Mind to appear well in the World; and since he had a Gentleman's Estate, he would endeavour to have every Thing suitable to it; That he had bargained already with the Herald's College for a Coat of Arms; and that his present Errand to
Randall
's was, from among his Variety, of Animals to fancy himself a Crest, in which he mightily desired my Assistance and Approbation."
I was delighted with the Folly and Frankness of the Man; but it happened he saw nothing that pleased him. As we returned, I advised him to an honest home-bred Crest out of his own Farmers Yard, which was a Cock's Head untrim'd, with the Gills and Comb entire. This he approved, and took his Leave. I was about to reflect on what had pass'd, when suddenly returning he called to me, and coming nearer, told me, he would let me into all his Project, and desired I would step with him to a Waterman's House hard by, where he had lodged a Set of Ancestors, which were to go up next Tide to his Seat upon the River. He desired my Judgment of the Choice he had made of Three Generations to furnish his Parlor. I went with him, not readily comprehending what he meant, till we enter'd the House, where he explained to me, that at
Fleet-Ditch
he had bought the Pictures of Three Men and Three Women, which were suited well enough to each other, and were to personate his Family up to his Great-Grandfather and Great-Grandmother, which he thought was pretending far enough for one who was in Truth related to no Body that he knew of in the World. As I was extremely diverted with the Oddness and Extravagance of the Man's Fancy, I was no less satisfied with his Judgment in the Choice of the Pictures; the Habits and Dispositions of the Figures being suited to Three different Periods and Fashions of Time, and concluding, or rather beginning, in the Great-Grandfather and Great-Grandmother, with a Pair of Trunk-Hose, a Ruff, and a Farthingale. I pleased him with my Approbation, and took Leave of him, entertaining my self often since with the Reflections which naturally arise from the Contemplation of Vanity, Wealth, and titular Happiness. I have since heard there is a Marriage likely to be concluded betwixt his Daughter Mrs.
Priscilla Foundling
and the eldest Son of the Lord
Mortgage.
Will's Coffee-house,
February 19.
When my other Affairs will give me Leav
I now and then saunter unobserved about the Town, and am infinitely entertained with the Variety of Persons, Humours, and Circumstances, I meet with in my Walks. Returning Home the other Evening after a Tour of th
Kind, I stepped in here, and having hung up my Cloak, and called for a Dish of Tea, joined my self to the Company at the Long Table. I could not but be surpriz'd to find
Se
rus,
who has himself an admirable Tast
Learning, and a good Insight into Politic
surrounded with a Set of vain and empty P
tenders to both. Amongst the rest, I took p
ticular Notice of one whom I had formerly
his proper Capacity made honourable Mentio
of. 'Tis true, he affected little of the State
man, but in all Matters relating to Poetry seemed to consider himself as the ultimate Judg
and with great Volubility of Speech dictated
all about him. He had a perfect Command
that Critical Cant I mention'd in my last,
applied it, in a very Magisterial Manner, to several Passages of
Shakespeare, Johnson,
and
Dryden.
I sat some Time at the Table before
offered to take any Notice of me, and he did
at last with such an Air of Superiority, as
he imagined his Name had done Honour to
Paper, instead of receiving any from it; or
f it had been a Piece of Condescention in one
f his Figure to own an Acquaintance with the Censor of
Great Britain.
From his Usage of me he gave
e a fair Occasion of calling him
side, and telling him of what other Faults I
ad observed in his Behaviour.
Sir, (says I) 'tis a real Grief to me to find that the Praises bestowed upon you have in a great Measure turned your Understanding. I did not mean them for your Ruin, but Encouragement—I said, you were a good Player, not an excellent Critick; pray don't mistake me—Let me advise you to learn better Behaviour of your Friend Mr.
Penkethman,
he is diverting enough upon the Stage; but off it, understands his Situation in Life, and is a very dull inoffensive Kind of Man. I am informed you have great Power in your Hands as to our Theatrical Entertainments; make better Use of it, or resign it quickly. The Town is as weary of your Tyranny as those under your Command. To the great Injury of both, you suppress
Powell, Booth,
and
Pack,
because they are better Players than your self, or any of your Friends—Let me hear no more of it.—Good Night to you.
The TATLER. [No . 15
— Tu dignus & Hic, & quisquis Amores
Aut metuet dulces, aut experietur amaros.
Virg
From
Tuesd. Febr.
20. to
Thursd. Febr.
22. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 21.
WIthin this half Year, I have with wonderful Delight read over the History
Don Quixote
in the Original Language, no
much approving any of our own Translation
except the old one, which is now hard to b
met with. One finds in this excellent Piec
very masterly Strokes of Ridicule upon all Occasions; but as it was calculated for a Peopl
in Point of Gallantry, the most Romantick in the World, the Passion of Love, under all the fantastical Forms and Dresses it wore in that Age and Nation, is severely treated, and inimitably exposed, throughout the whole.
A Work of this Nature was no less necessary to the
Spaniard,
than it afterward proved successful; and whoever will be at the Pains of entring into the Humour that reigned among them, cannot fail of being infinitely entertained with so fine a Satyr upon it. But a Reader meerly
English,
who never took it in his Head to buckle on a Helmet, or mount a Palfrey, for the Fair, to encounter Giants, besiege moated
astles, or rescue imprisoned Damsels from
chantment, nor yet has any Notion of the
eroes who did so, will very little relish a Bur
sque on the Feats of Chivalry. And, to say
e Truth, as these illustrious Knights, by the
ower of a warm Sun, were transported to
e Extreme, we, from the Coldness of our
tuation, are no less expos'd to another. They
d Spirits enough to support them through
ng and tedious Pursuits, ours flag upon the
hace, and one Way or other die almost as
on as they are born. Instead of refining, as
ey did, upon our Amours, till we lose the
nd of them, we hurry on to That, and over
ok many agreeable Paths that indirectly lead
it. This I am willing to charge upon our Climate; but I question whether there be n
t
ome Affectation at the Bottom. I know not
short how it happens, but whilst we give a
oose to all our other Passions, that of Love, in
he proper Sense of it, is made the Subject of Ridicule, and in a great Measure laughed out of Countenance by the Gentlemen of Wit and Pleasure about Town.
Bellaria
in vain is
oung, beautiful and Genteel;
Cleora
of an
dmirable Temper, an easy modest Behaviour, and a Person perfectly agreeable. The Success of their Charms is no more than to be ogled at the
Opera,
toasted at the Tavern, and forgotten the next Morning. This is an elegant Enjoyment of Life, as we call it, and a right Tast of Happiness.
Colin
is almost the only one of my Acquaintance that has formed a right Judgment upon the Business of Love, and has Courage enough to avow it upon all Occasions. He is a Man excellently qualified for the highest Employments, his Way of Living is rather too abstemious; but to that he owes a clear Understanding, and many uncommon Speculations. He has a peculiar Simplicity of M
ners, and through his whole Character gi
one some Traces and Images of humane N
ture in its original Purity. Having never s
fered himself to be tainted with the Bitterne
of a Party, he preserves an universal Cand
and a Profusion of Benevolence for Mankind
general.
This Gentleness of Nature has sometim
put him into the Power of the Fair Sex,
whom therefore we are obliged for the be
Pastorals in our own Tongue, and such as
hardly inferior to those in any other. H
Conversation on the same Topick is no less delicate and entertaining. In an easy and unaffected Manner he leads one through the mo
delightful Scenes, and furnishes them with all the Pleasures of a luxurious, but refined, Imagination. He appears all the while to be throughly touched with what he says, and to be placed in a Form of Happiness superior to the common Level of the World. The same Turn of Mind lays him open to an infinite Tenderness and Compassion for the Misfortunes of others; and if the Distress of the following Letter be real, as it is not impossible it should, I shall expect his Approbation at least for giving it a Place in my Paper.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
OH Mr.
Bickerstaff!
If your Name, Person, Authority, and the good Nature expressed in some of your Papers, are not all one Fiction to amuse and impose upon the World, give me Leave, in Behalf of a poor despairing Creature, to beg your most serious and tender Consideration. My Sister, the unfortunate
Fidelia,
the best, the softest, and the fairest of her Sex, is even now on the Brink of Distraction. Her Perplexity is beyond all Example, and indeed the Occasion of it very extraordinary. It is now Three Years and upwards since Two young Gentlemen of Birth and Fortune, who had lived together in the strictest Friendship, became Rivals on her Account. Both so equally merited her Esteem, that for some Time she knew not on which to bestow her Love. The one was of an open Behaviour, warm in his Pretensions, but not over constant in his Application; the other close, assiduous, and importunate. However it happened, she was at last determined in Favour of the latter; and, with a Heart never before engaged in an Affair of this Kind, gave at once into all the Softnesses and Indearments of it.
Polydor
(if I may so call the neglected Lover) now found himself but coldly received; yet, with an unexpected Evenness of Temper, continued still to visit my Sister; upon the Foot of a Friend, a Platonick, or what else she would please to call him. In the mean Time, the Father of
Castalio,
his Rival, had some Intimation given him of his Intrigue, and that he intended to marry
Fidelia,
whose Fortune, tho' better than Six thousand Pounds, was by no Means answerable to what he proposed for his Son. Without taking any further Notice, he sent for him, and having a considerable Estate at
Fort St. George,
in the
East-Indies,
made the Care of that a Pretence for dispatching him thither. In short,
Fidelia
and he were forced to part, with a Flood of Tears, and the usual Vows to each other. Two Years almost past before any Thing was heard of him; then came the News of his Death, confirmed by so many Hands, and such particular Circumstances, that there was no Room to doubt the Truth of it.
Polydor
all this while had gone on in the same Road of an innocent Acquaintance with my Sister, and as she ever preserved a good Respect for him, now, under her Affliction, she found the Use of his Friendship. Who could so properly condole with her the Loss of
Castalio,
as the Man who had loved him beyond his own Quiet and Happiness? To whom could she so freely communicate her Grief, as to one who knew her Weakness, and had long since forgiven her the cruelest Effects of it? Thus, Sir, by mingling their Sorrows, they fell insensibly into a Tenderness for each other. His Flame revived with greater Violence than ever, and she on a sudden wonder'd at the Progress she had made, before she well knew where she was. Considering her self as a Kind of Widow, she resolved to continue such till a Twelvemonth was expired. She did so, and having appointed
Thursday
last for her Wedding Day, just as she was going out, she was met by
Castalio
at the Door. In the midst of Joy and Confusion, she flew to him, and fainted in his Arms. What Measures, good Mr.
Bickerstaff,
can be taken in this Affair?
Polydor
raves like a Madman, walks the Streets with his Sword drawn, and in case he is disappointed, threatens Destruction to all about him.
Castalio
bewails
Fidelia
and himself, commiserates his Friend, and upbraids his Father that had intercepted his Letters, and purchased of several
Irish
Men the Report of his Death: But my Sister—she alas! is lost to all Reason; and if she were not, the Truth is, I have none to offer upon this Emergency. Instruct me, dear Sir, but to mitigate her Afflictions, and you shall find me from that Moment a more chearful Correspondent, and upon all Occasions,
Your most Obedient, Most Humble Servant,
Fidelio.
The Case of
Fidelia,
as well as that of the Pretenders to her, is indeed very deplorable; and the more so, because having carefully perused the Records belonging to the
Court of Honour,
I cannot from thence inform my self how to proceed, or in whom to vest the Right of her Person. However, if necessary, a Special Verdict may be had without much Trouble or Expence. In the mean Time, to speak upon it in an extrajudicial Way, if the Lady happens to be of the
Romish
Persuasion, I advise her to a Nunnery; if not, and she be qualified as her Brother has represented, I know a certain old Gentleman who will be well enough pleased to take her off with all her Misfortunes and Infirmities about her. By having frequent Opportunities of instilling the Precepts of Philosophy, he may in Time alleviate her Disquiets; at least under the Protection of such a one, she may; as many others do, enjoy all the convenient Privacy, without any of the Confinement or Severities of a Monastick Retirement.
The TATLER. [No 16
— Aestuat ingens
Imo in Corde Pudor, mixto
que
Insania Luctu,
Et Furits agitatus Amor, & conscia Virtus.
Virg.
From
Thursd. Febr.
22. to
Saturd. Febr.
24. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 23.
THERE is no Consideration of more Moment, or which more respects the present or future Good of Mankind, than a severe and nice Attention to the natural Bent, Genius or Disposition of Children. 'Tis through a Neglect of this, that we see so many Professions, Functions and Vocations so ill executed and supplied. I have often preached this to Major
Matchlock,
who himself had been an
Oliverian,
and could neither write nor read, and but scurvily set his Mark. His Consciousness of his Want of Learning made him run mad upon making his Son a Scholar. The Lad, who had an hereditary and unalienable Dulness, was utterly incapable. Nevertheless to the
Charter-House
he went, where after having been for Four Years under a good Discipline, he was (if possible) more stupified by Correction, and returned again, like a leaden Shilling, upon his father's Hands. Soon after, by my Advice, he was put to a Banker in
Lombard-street,
is now a Common-Councilman, will shortly be Deputy of the Ward, and may in Time bid fair for the Chair. This is one Instance, and every one who reads this, cannot fail, from his own Knowledge, of recollecting many more. On the other Hand, a great Genius is sometimes overlooked, and a Youth ty'd down to mean Applications by having a Mechanick to his Father, whose natural Fire, and Greatness of Spirit, make frequent vigorous Attempts; by which he at length sallies from behind the Counter, breaks through his Indentures, quits his opprobrious Apron, and flourishes in Arts or Arms. We read, that
Wolsey
was but the Son of a Butcher, his Servant, the great
Cromwell,
and who perhaps was as great a Man, the Son of a Blacksmith. An eminent Person of later Times was reproached by one of better Birth, though of meaner Parts, for having formerly been a Carrier. His Answer, for his Temper and excellent Judgment in it, is not to be forgotten, which was,
"That if he who reproach'd him had once been a Carrier, he would have been a Carrier still."
To descend yet to a more modern Instance, my Friend
Uriah Pattern,
by Profession a Salesman in the
Strand,
who sold me my last Purple Bays Gown, has a Son whom he bound to himself, that he might learn to make Clothes; but he, it seems, was only born to wear 'em. I cannot say that he appears addicted by Nature either to Arts or Arms, being of the Beau Species, and giving daily Indications of a Smart Fellow. The Symptoms broke out early upon him, in red Heels, wrought Clocks, Agate-headed Canes, Lispings, Patches, Contortions in Bowing, Oaths, Shrugs, Smiles, white Gloves, with a perpetual Propensity of stretching out his Hand to lead Ladies, not only from his Father's Door, but from Pews, Pit, Box, or Gallery. It was also observable of him, that when upon any Emergency he was forced to attend the Shop, he handled his Ell, and unrolled the Callicoes, with a particular Air of Scorn, Regret and Indignation. What the Catastrophe of this Character will be I am loth to determine, but there seems to be some present Malignancy in his Stars. His Mother, good Woman, came to me the other Day with Tears in her Eyes, and told me, that on the 6th of
February
last he went out, to all Appearance, well in the Morning. He had indeed disguised himself in a rich Suit, by Means of which he was as much observed, as he was unknown, at Court; that he returned very late at Night, extremely disordered, and has rav'd ever since. His Imagination being fill'd with the Idea's of what he saw there, he frequently breaks out in Exclamations on Basset, Drawing-Room, Balls, Rigadoons, Minuets,
&c.
He talks of Dutchesses, Countesses, and Yeomen of the Guard. A poor Country Woman call'd in to buy a Yard of Flannel, and he cry'd, Stand by. A Servant Maid came just afterwards for a Callicoe Gown and Petticoat: Asking him how much would serve, he told her, she must take so many Yards extraordinary, for he presumed she would have it with a Train; then offered to lead her to her Pattins, which she had put off at the Door, and wish'd her Grace a good Night.
A Person of less Penetration than my self, may easily see to the Bottom of
Ned Pattern
's Case. To speak Poetically, he has, like
Prometheus,
stolen Fire from bright Eyes that roll in an Orb too far above him. It is highly probable that he knows not the great Lady that has given him the Wound, and utterly impossible that from her he should ever obtain any Cure. If he can be informed of her Title and Habitation, I would advise him to entertain humble Thoughts, to aim at being introduced into the Presence, and by Degrees into the Favour, of her
Abigail,
the Possession of whom, though not as a principal Remedy, may yet as a
Succedaneum
prove effectual to his Recovery; a Method very familiar to us in our Practice of Physick: And who knows, but the old Clothes and tarnished Habiliments, together with the cast Airs and Second-hand Simagreex, of the original Beauty, may have a Virtue in them like that said to have been in
Achilles
Spear, the Rust of which never failed to heal the Wounds it had made
This is what I think proper to advise for the present, though if this should not have the desired Effect, for the Sake of my old Friend
Uriah,
I shall take
Nea
's Case into further Consideration, and save him (if possible) from a Bed of Straw and a dark Room.
Mr.
Bickerstaff
having Room in this Paper, which he has been straiten'd for in some others, thinks himself obliged, in good Manners, to take Notice of Two or Three of his Correspondents. The Dissenter living near
Taunton
has no just Grounds for his Remonstrance, nor the Gentleman at
Oxford
for applying the Character of
Peter Proteus
to himself.
Philalethes
must explain himself farther upon the Match he proposes. The Censor refuses absolutely to meet
Chloe,
according to her Request, unless she will give him Leave to bring a Third Person, his own Maid, or some other discreet Body, along with him. The Verses inscribed to him are not thought proper to be published with his Lucubrations; and therefore shall be reserved for the next Miscellany.
Whereas it has been reported, That
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Censor of
Great Britain,
did lately, on a publick Occasion, to the great Scandal of as many as beheld him, appear in a Scarlet Cloak trim'd with Gold, and a smart narrowbrim'd Hat, bound with an Edging of the same: These are to certify, that the said Report is no less groundless and malicious than ridiculous and absurd, he the said Mr.
Bickerstaff
having no Cloak but of Ash-coloured Camlet, lined with a deep Blue; nor any other Hat but a broad Horizontal Beaver, both which have served him off and on these Dozen Years and upwards.
The TATLER. [No 17.
— Ubi se a Vulgo & Scena in secreta remorant
Virtus Scipiadae & mitis Sapientia Laeli,
Nugari cum illo, & discincti ludere, donec
De
queretur Olus, soliti. —
Hor.
From
Saturd. Febr.
24. to
Tuesd. Febr.
27. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 26.
MY Landlady has a little Boy about Five Years old, with whose Conversation I often divert my self when I have taken my afternoon's Nap. I was yesterday, with my Spectacles on, cutting out for him the Figures of Kings, Milk-Maids, Trees, and the like, in Paper. We happen'd to be in warm Debate upon some important Circumstance in our Business, when
Will Moody
came into my Room, and seemed to wonder how a Person of my Age and Gravity could descend to such Trifles. He made me so tedious a Visit, and was so very disagreeable in it, that I long'd till he was gone, and young Master and my self had resumed our Entertainment, having a King to finish, who wanted only his Crown and a Pair of Hands. I have since reflected with some Contempt on those who think that Wisdom consists in a constant Tenor of Gravity, and that they can never put off their Seriousness without breaking into their Character. How ill Judges such People are of humane Nature may be determined, not only from the Opinions of Poets and Philosophers, but from the Practice of the wisest and greatest Men.
Socrates,
who, I think, may be reckoned in the first Rank of Mankind, was at Fourscore taken by some of his Scholars in the Fact, Whistling and Dancing by himself.
Scipio
and
Laelius
used to amuse themselves with gathering Shells on the Sea-Shore, and
Augustus
to play at Cobnut with some favourite Boys.
As all Exercise, whether of Body or Mind, requires some Relaxation, so we may observe a Sort of Analogy or Agreement between Men's several Employments, and the Amusements they fall into. Thus the Labourer, after the Toil of the Day, refreshes himself in the Evening with Wrestling, Dancing, or flinging the Bar: The dull Plodders in Business, as soon as they are disingaged from it, fall insensibly asleep, or doze over a Pint: Men of great Genius naturally fall into these Trifles which, at the same Time that they give Ease and Respite to the Faculties, serve to enliven in some Degree, and keep them in a gentle Motion. This I take to have been the Ease of those great Men whose Examples I have produced; and I am so far gone in this Opinion, that I believe every Person understands the Art of Trifling agreeably, in Proportion to his Share of Wit and good Sense; those who are defective in either, being as incapable of doing it themselves as of relishing it in others. The only Inconvenience is, when Men in great or grave Stations are not cautious enough to distinguish before whom they give themselves a Liberty this Way.
Will Moody,
amongst many others, has furnished me with this Observation. After much formal Advice against doing Things unsuitable to my Age, and telling me how much it would have reflected upon me if any but a Friend had come in, he added, That he was mightily shocked some Time ago by a Person of Reputation for Learning and Virtue, that had entertained him for half an Hour together with the Particularities of a Puppet-Show, which he carried his little Grandson to see the Night before. The Truth is, such sow and groveling Spirits as these have some Reason for their Censure, who possessing no good Qualities able to gain or to raise Esteem, should not presume to act a Part that would serve only to make 'em ridiculous. A Man who hopes to establish his Character and Fortune by the Solemnity of his Countenance, would be in the Wrong to part with it upon every slight Occasion. Should he once deviate from the Road he is in, he knows not where it might end, nor how to recover his Mistake. Even a Smile might be of dangerous Consequence, and therefore he arms himself with an impregnable Gravity against all the Fooleries and Gaieties that may happen in his Way.
Democritulus
is equally a Coxcomb, though of a very different Mould. He laughs for Laughing's Sake in the wrong Place, and is a Trifler upon all Occasions. In Pursuit of this Humour, he regards neither Time, Person, nor Circumstance, but lays about him without Distinction, and is a Kind of
Drawcansir
in Conversation. His nearest Acquaintance, and their tenderest Concerns, are the Subjects of his Wit and Ridicule; and he seems to value himself for nothing more, than for having got the better of Modesty, good Manners, and Humanity. How an Inclination to Raillery may betray one into Offences of this Kind, I must produce my self as an Instance; and as the following Letter has awakened in me a Sense of my Error, my Willingness to insert it here, will, I hope, in some Measure atone for it.
Mr.
Bickerstaff,
AS I take it, all Vices are altered by their Circumstances, and more or less affect the Multitude, in Proportion to the Character of the Person that commits them. This Consideration obliges me (tho' with all due Respect, and humble Submission, to the Authority of the Censor of
Great Britain
) unwillingly to charge
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
with ridiculing the Misfortunes of those who were properly the Objects of his Care and Compassion. 'Twas with the greatest Satisfaction I read
Fidelia
's Letter, and the Introduction to it, in your
Tatler
of the 22d. The Case of that unhappy Fair is so moving in it self, and so well described, and her Brother so earnestly and passionately entreats your Assistance, that I cannot without Indignation reflect on your barbarous Insults under the Cover of your Court of Honour and a Nunnery; but what is yet infinitely worse, to aggravate her deplorable Condition by tendering your Flannel Corps to supply the Place of her beloved
Castalio,
or the unfortunately successful
Polydor,
is Inhumanity, and the Result of detestable Avarice, the darling Vice of an old Man, who, for a Prospect of 6000
l.
can forget those many good Instructions a certain Author used to abound in, especially relating to the Choice of Companions for Life, and the Government of our prevailing Passions. Example and Precept are the best Comments on each other, and he that acts inconsistently, seems not in the least to be affected with what he says. Mr.
Bickerstaff,
your Lucubrations tell me, you understand humane Nature too well to think, that an old Man, or Philosophical Precepts, will either raise or alleviate the Misfortunes of a young Lady, especially under
Fidelia
's Circumstances. Therefore to be consonant with your self (which you know is a prime Excellency) you are obliged either to vindicate your Proceedings, or make a publick Acknowledgment of your Mistake; according to the Consequence of which I shall continue, or cease to be,
SIR,
Your Admirer, And humble Servant.
From the excessive Tenderness I have for the Fair Sex, I was inclined to hope that the Distress of
Fidelia
was not real, else I had applied thy self to the Consideration of it in a more serious Manner. I could wish, my Correspondents, for this Reason, would make use of a secret Mark, understood by them and my self only, to let me know when I am drawn upon for my Advice in earnest, and when not; it being otherwise impossible but that some merry Wags should
Bite
both me and my courteous Readers, as often as they in their great Wit and Wisdom shall think fit so to do.
The TATLER. [No 18.
Animum mutant qui trans Mare currunt.
Hor.
From
Tuesday Febr.
27. to
Thursd. March
1. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
February 28.
THE Relation between Masters and their Servants, would, if rightly improved, contribute a great deal to the Happiness of both.
Seneca
places the latter in a lower Rank of Friends, and imputes the vile and abject Treatment they usually meet with, to the Pride or Ignorance of those who have the Power in their Hands. For my own Part, I have ever had a Kind of Tenderness and Regard for the few I have entertained in my Service: I have at proper Times bestowed suitable Advice upon them, and to the best of my Power improved both their Morals and Understanding. By this Means they have gradually commenced humble Companions, and served to amuse me with a Kind of low Conversation, at the same Time that they were doing the little necessary Offices about my Person. My Maid, who is now turned of Fifty, is of singular Use in this Way: As she is warming my Bed, she tells me a Hundred Stories of Spirits without Heads, black Dogs, and several Kinds of Apparitions, that have for
sarten
been seen in the Parish where she was born. In a Morning, when she brings me my Candle, she acquaints me how the World goes, and entertains me with her simple Remarks on the most considerable Men, and most important Affairs in it. This is making the most of her Capacity: But
Pacolet,
my other Servant, was a much greater Genius, and adorn'd with many excellent Qualities the high Station of
Premiere Ministre
to the Censor of
Great Britain.
As the Publick has been frequently obliged to his Intelligence for the Detection of several secret Enormities, I cannot think it improper to give some Account of him here, of his Absence for Six Months past, and his late Return to these Parts. About the latter End of
August
last he came to me, and after talking over some Affairs I had employed him in, he told me in short, he was grown weary of acting altogether within the narrow Limits of this Kingdom, that if I would please to allow him a Salary, and send him abroad with a Character, he would in a short Time visit all the Courts of
Europe,
and bring from thence many Secrets and Curiosities worthy of my Knowledge and Acceptance. My Correspondents being numerous, and the Accounts they sent me very faithful and material, I could the better spare
Pacolet
at that Time. Accordingly, Mr.
Lillie
prepared his Credentials, in which he was stiled
Legate a Latere
from
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Astrologer, Student in Physick, and Censor of the Kingdom of
Great Britain.
He set out soon after, and having made the promised Tour with an Expedition peculiar to his Way of Travelling, he arrived again at
Sheer-Lane
(from whence he was directed to
Channel-Row
) the 22d Instant. I received him with much Pleasure, together with the many Presents, Letters,
&c.
he brought me from Connoisseurs, Great Princes, and Writers of Almanacks. I find by him that my Predictions first introduced me to their Knowledge, and laid a Foundation for the Fame of my succeeding Lucubrations. He was, it seems, particularly well received in the
North;
the contending Powers in those Parts alternately perswading him to declare in my Name for their Interest; which he prudently declined, alledging for his Excuse, that he had particular Instructions from the Censor, his Master, not to meddle in those Affairs. Amongst other Things, he produc'd from his Portmanteau Two large Folio's, each of which, he told me, contained an Account of his Travels, the same in Substance, but differing in Style and the Manner of Writing. He added,
"That which I approved should have the Preference, and shortly be made ready for the Press."
In the first Place therefore he read as follows:
"
August
22. 1710. This Morning, having taken Leave of my Master, I mounted my Flying-Horse at the lower End of
Sheer-Lane,
and without observing much the Roads I passed over, soon arrived at
Amsterdam.
I baited there at the
Cat and Fiddle,
and after kissing my Lanlady's Daughter in the Cellar, proceeded on my Journey to the Court of
Vienna,
which I reached about Noon the same Day."
Very well,
Pacolet,
says I.
"Ah Sir! replies he, this is but a plain Narration."
—Then taking up the other Volume, he begun thus:
'The Vehemence of the Summer Solstice was now much abated, when, invited by the agreeable Temperature of the charming Season, I resolved to make an Excursion into remote Climates. Accordingly having by long Premeditation determin'd the Time of my Departure, I applied my self to that illustrious Person I have the Honour of appertaining unto, and having obtained a gentle Indulgence for my intended Peregrination, I gave Orders for my winged Palfrey to be brought to the Extremity of
Sheer-Lane,
where, amongst other noble Pieces of Architecture which salute the wondering Eye, that vulgarly distinguished by the Denomination of
Temple-Bar,
is by no Means inferior to any round about it. It consists of a noble Arch, through which, as through a mighty Channel, gay, gilded Chariots, obsolete Coaches, and rumbling Dray-Carts, are backwards and forwards incessantly disembogued; whilst on either Side of it Foot-Passengers, like silent Streams, glide smoothly on, and divide themselves afterwards into numberless Rivulets through all Parts of the Metropolis.'
Here I started up in some Disorder, and snatching the Book out of his Hand, told him he should never more see my Face if he did not that Moment go his Ways and sleep till he had recovered his Understanding. After he had left me, I could not forbear running my Eye along the Margin of his Manuscript, which pointed out some of the Contents in the following Order.
A Description of Autumn.
Another of
Temple-Bar.
Strange and pleasant Fancies.
Moral Reflections.
Love Affairs should be kept Secret.
A Kissing Custom.
Revenge no new Passion.
A Proof from History that we are all mortal.
Whilst I was thus entertaining my self, my Sister
Jenny
came into my Room, with unusual Disorder and Resentment in her Air and Countenance. Then throwing an open'd Letter upon my Table.
"Here (says she) take this, you can expose the
Sappho's
of our Sex, pray do not overlook the
Corydon's
of your own. In the Chair that brought me hither I found this Billet, and if you are in earnest an Enemy to Vice, you will publish it in your next Paper.'
Tuesday Morning, Six of the Clock.
IT is not to be expressed with what Uneasiness I bore the Disappointment I met with last Night from my dear
Alexis.
I stayed at my own Lodgings till Nine, with all the eager Impatience that young
Strephon
expects his insipid
Chloe.
A last I resolved to go and find my charming lovely Youth: I went to our old Haunts, but in vain: I was doomed to pass the Night with all the Pangs that tortured Love and Jealousy could inflict. I write this in my Bed—'Tis scarce Light. I cannot defer chiding my soft tender Boy for using me at this Rate. The Loss of your Company was not the only Misfortune that attended me; for in that mad disappointed way I went to my Lady
Betty
It was no small Penance to sit with that nauseous Sex. They all rallied me for being very insipid.
Caelia
seemed to be most touched with the Neglect I shewed, and put on
Thousand Airs, which would have engage
a Number of tastless Fops. I often sighed
and muttered over your dear Name. I punished my self in this Company till Twelve
Clock, and then came Home; where th
only Pleasure I had, was wrapping my sel
in the Cherry-colour'd Gown which has s
often been worn by you, and so well becomes you. I kissed it a thousand Time
and blamed your Neglect of me. I hav
much to say: Meet me at
White
's at Seven
where we'll agree on spending our Evening
Till then I am,
(With great Impatience) Yours,
Corydon
The TATLER. [No 19.
— Praemia vobis
ta manent, Pueri, at Palmam movet Ordine Nemo.
Virg.
From
Thursd. March
1. to
Saturd. March
3. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 2.
THE Desire to appear pleasing and agreeable is very natural and prevailing, al
hough the Art of being so is little understood.
her by Affectation we overshoot the Mark,
by Remissness fall short of it. But nothing
effectually defeats us in this Pursuit than
wrong Estimate of our selves, either in Point
f the good Qualities we pretend to, or of the
tuation in Life that Fortune has assign'd us.
Want of due Attention to either of these Circumstances will unavoidably betray us into
requent Miscarriages in our Conduct; some
es lay us open to Envy, at others to Con
empt, and in the End eclipse even that Merit
are really Masters of. From this Conside
tion, when I was a very young Fellow, how
er desirous I might be of being distinguished
the World, I kept a strict Guard upon my
anity, resolved to content my self with pas
ng through the ordinary Forms and Methods
f rising into Repute, and at due Distance of Time took my several Degrees in Conversation. At first setting out, it was my constant Rule to pay a Deference to as many as had any Pretence to it, to smile modestly when they were pleased to be facetious, and often stand their Raillery, without offering to return it. It was not without some Difficulty that I got this Mastery of my self, in Spight of which, towards the latter End of an Evening, I now and then made an imprudent Sally, and endeavoured to be as sprightly as my Betters; but as it happened, I never said a good Thing over Night that was invidiously remember'd the next Morning: The Truth is, the Smallness of my Fortune laid some Restraint upon my Genius. I seldom rightly enjoyed my self till the Reckoning was paid, and by this Means my Gaiety begun when that of other People was at an End. At length, by an habitual Dulness, and other innocent Arts in my Behaviour, I worked my self into the Esteem of my Acquaintance, and in something more than four Years was allowed to be one of the Company. Then it was that I began to exert my Talents, and by assuming every Day more and more, at length established an indisputable Authority in the World. Though the Impatience and Fire of Youth may suggest otherwise, these are certainly the Steps that lead safely to consummate Greatness, in whatever Form or Profession we aspire after it.
I am indeed of Opinion, that some Years of our Lives are in a Manner thrown away and lost by Means of a wrong Education; which nothing has more effectually convinced me of, than the great and early Improvements that my Friend
Sam Trusty
's Nephew, mentioned in one of my former Papers, has made under the particular Care and Direction of his Uncle: But till the same Method can be brought into general Practice, we must e'en take the World as we find it; we must submit to the Rules universally received, and instead of weighing our own Merits abstractedly, consider them as they are placed in Relation to, and Dependance upon, those about us. Amongst other Gradations necessary to be observed in Life, there is one which, for the Benefit of those who come Strangers to this City, I cannot but take Notice of; that of Coffee-houses I mean, the Violation of which may otherwise lead them into many Inconveniencies and Indecorums. The following Letter, which came to Hand this Evening, has partly occasioned this Re
ection.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Friday Morning.
SIR,
I Came to Town with my Sister last Night by the
Reading
Coach, and having both of us a great Longing to see Colonel —, who quarter'd formerly at my Father's House, we prevailed upon the Coachman to drive directly to
White
's Chocolate-House in St.
James
's-
street,
which was the Place he told us to enquire at for him if ever we came to
London.
We both alighted and went in; 'tis true I was somewhat ashamed to see so much fine Company, and the more so, because my Sister, who is always sick in a Coach, had but a little before pewk'd upon my Clothes. However, the Place I suppose is free for any Body, and for all their Silver and Gold Lace, perhaps I had as much Money in my Pocket as the best of 'em. They were civil enough to her, that's true; but they all laughed out at me, and an ugly lame Rogue there was ready to shove me out at the Door, and told me, I was mistaken in the House. If you think this to be good Manners, I have no more to say; if not, I don't see why you should not take Notice of it. You have put foolisher Things in your Paper; but whether you do or no, I am resolved I'll go thither every Day whilst I am in Town, and shew 'em that I am not so much a Put but that I can say bo! to a Goose.
W. L.
There seems to be a true
English
Spirit in the Resentment of my Correspondent; but if I might advise, he should let this Matter rest for the present. In less than three Winters I will undertake he shall be able to look the Enemy in the Face, provided he lives regular, and takes the Measures I prescribe. There is scarce any Part of the Town so destitute, where he may not find out a little Coffee-house to drink a Cup of Sage in every Morning, and peruse the
Tatler
as often as it comes out. Here I confine him for Two Months: If in that Time he can compass to have a Place kept for him by the Fire, to talk without being contradicted, and to read my Paper to the Company, he shall then, by Vertue of a Pass from
Charles Lillie,
be allowed the Liberty of the
Rainbow
near
Temple-Bar;
there to continue till the Booksellers thereabouts have found him out for a Wit, and employed him in some Libel against the late or present Ministry. He will of Course pass afterwards to the
Grecian,
and may (if he thinks fit) call in at
Tom
's in
Devereux-Court.
It will by this Time be proper that he should make himself a new Suit of Clothes. I could wish they might not be too gay, which will by no Means become a Person whom I am conducting through the World. According to the best Calculation I can make, he will, by
December
the 18th,
Anno Domini
1712. arrive at
Will
's, where, if he is capable of further Improvement, he may soon furnish himself with good Sense, Politicks, and good Manners enough to carry him through the rest of his Journey, and set him upon an equal Foot with the
Inhabitants
of St.
James
's Coffee-house,
White
's, or the
Cocoa-Tree.
N. B.
If Mr.
W. L.
will please to acquaint the Censor where he may be spoken with,
Charles Lillie,
to prevent his being imposed on, shall be ordered to wait on him with a Table containing the several Prices of warm Liquors in an about this Town, together with the Variations of the said Prices according to the Difference of the Air under which the Liquors are prepared, with many other Philosophical Remarks upon the same.
The TATLER. [No 20.
— Ingenuas didicisse fideliter Artes
Emollit Mores. —
Ovid.
From
Saturday Mar.
3. to
Tuesday Mar.
6. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 5.
THose inferior Duties of Life which the
French
call
les petite Morale,
or the smaller Morals, are with us distinguished by the Name of good Manners or Breeding. This I look upon, in the general Notion of it, to be a Sort of artificial good Sense, adapted to the meanest Capacities, and introduced to make Mankind easy in their Commerce with each other. Low and little Understandings, without some Rules of this Kind, would be perpetually wandring into a Thousand Indecencies and Irregularities in Behaviour, and in their ordinary Conversation fall into the same boisterous Familiarities that one observes amongst them when a Debauch has quite taken away the Use of their Reason. In other Instances it is odd to consider, that for Want of common Discretion the very End of good Breeding is wholly perverted, and Civility, intended to make us easy, is employed in laying Chains and Fetters upon us, in debarring us of our Wishes, and in crossing our most reasonable Desires and Inclinations. This Abuse reigns chiefly in the Country, as I found to my Vexation, when I was last there, in a Visit I made to a Neighbour about Two Miles from my Cousin. As soon as I enter'd the Parlour, they forced me into the great Chair that stood close by a huge Fire, and kept me there by Force till I was almost stifled. Then a Boy came in great Hurry to pull off my Boots, which I in vain opposed, urging that I must return soon after Dinner. In the mean Time the good Lady whispered her eldest Daughter, and slipped a Key into her Hand. She returned instantly with a Beer Glass half full of
Aqua Mirabilis
and Syrrup of Gillyflowers. I took as much as I had a Mind for, but Madam vowed I should drink it off, (for she was sure it would do me Good after coming out of the cold Air) and I was forced to obey, which absolutely took away my Stomach. When Dinner came in, I had a Mind to sit at a Distance from the Fire; but they told me, it was as much as my Life was worth, and set me with my Back just against it. Tho' my Appetite was quite gone, I resolved to force down as much as I could, and desired the Leg of a Pullet. Indeed, Mr.
Bickerstaff,
says the Lady, you must eat a Wing to oblige me, and so put a Couple upon my Plate. I was persecuted at this Rate during the whole Meal. As often as I called for Small Beer, the Master tipped the Wink, and the Servant brought me a Brimmer of
October.
Some Time after Dinner I ordered my Cousin's Man who came with me to get ready the Horses; but it was resolved I should not stir that Night; and when I seemed pretty much bent upon going, they ordered the Stable Door to be locked, and the Children hid away my Cloak and Boots. The next Question was, what I would have
Supper. I said I never eat any Thing at Nigh
but was at last in my own Defence obliged t
name the first Thing that came into my Head
After Three Hours spent chiefly in Apology fo
my Entertainment, insinuating to me,
"Tha
this was the worst Time of the Year for Provisions, that they were at a great Distance from any Market, that they were afraid I should be starved, and they knew they kept me to my Loss"
, the Lady went, and left me to her Husband (for they took special Care I should never be alone). As soon as her Back was turned, the little Misses ran backwards and forwards every Moment, and constantly as they came in or went out, made a Courtefie directly at me, which in good Manners I was forced to return with a Bow, and,
Your humble Servant pretty Miss.
Exactly at Eight the Mother came up, and discovered by the Redness of her Face that Supper was not far off. It was twice as large as the Dinner, and my Persecution doubled in Proportion. I desired at my usual Hour to go to my Repose, and was conducted to my Chamber by the Gentleman, his Lady, and the whole Train of Children. They importuned me to drink something before I went to Bed, and upon my refusing, at last left a Bottle of
Stingo,
as they called it, for Fear I should wake and be thirsty in the Night. I was forced in the Morning to rise and dress my self in the Dark, because they would not suffer my Kinsman's Servant to disturb me at the Hour I had desired to be called. I was now resolved to break through all Measures to get away, and after sitting down to a monstrous Breakfast of cold Beef, Mutton, Neats Tongues, Venison Pasty, and Stale Beer, took Leave of the Family; but the Gentleman would needs see me Part of my Way, and carry me a short Cut through his own Grounds, which, he told me, would save half a Mile's Riding. This last Piece of Civility had like to have cost me dear, being once or twice in Danger of my Neck, by leaping over his Ditches, and at last forced to alight in the Dirt, when my Horse, having slip'd his Bridle, ran away, and took us up more than an Hour to recover him again.
It is evident that none of the Absurdities I met with in this Visit proceeded from an ill Intention, but from a wrong Judgment of Complaisance, and a Misapplication of the Rules of it. I cannot so easily excuse the more refined Criticks upon Behaviour, who having professed no other Study, are yet infinitely defective in the most material Parts of it.
Ne
Fashion
has been bred all his Life about Court, and understands to a Tittle all the Punctilio's of a Drawing-Room. He visits most of the fine Women near St.
James
's, and upon all Occasions says the civilest and softest Things to them of any Man breathing. To Mr.
Isaac
he owes an easie Slide in his Bow, and a graceful Manner of coming into a Room. But in some other Cases he is very far from being a wellbred Person: He laughs at Men of far superior Understanding to his own, for not being as well dressed as himself, despises all his Acquaintance that are not Quality, and in publick Places has on that Account often avoided taking Notice of some of the best Speakers in the House of Commons. He rails strenuously at both Universities before the Members of either, and never is heard to swear an Oath, or break in upon Morality or Religion, but in the Company of Divines. On the other Hand, a Man of right Sense has all the Essentials of good Breeding, though he may be wanting in the Forms of it.
Horatio
has spent most of his Time at
Oxford.
He has a great deal of Learning, an agreeable Wit, and as much Modesty as serves to adorn without concealing his other good Qualities. In that retired Way of Living he seems to have formed a Notion of humane Nature, as he has found it described in the Writings of the greatest Men, not as he is like to meet with it in the common Course of Life. Hence it is, that he gives no Offence, that he converses with great Deference, Candor, and Humanity. His Bow, I must confess, is somewhat aukward; but then he has an extensive, universal, and unaffected Knowledge, which makes some Amends for it. He would make no extraordinary Figure at a Ball; but I can assure the Ladies in his Behalf, and for their own Consolation, that he has writ better Verses on the Sex than any Man now living, and is preparing such a Poem for the Press as will transmit their Praises and his own to many Generations.
The TATLER. [No 21.
Dii Majorum Umbris tenuem, & sine Pondere Terram,
Spirantesque Crocos, & in Urna perpetuum Ver,
Qui Praeceptorem sancti voluere Parentis
Esse Loco. —
Juv.
From
Tuesday Mar.
6. to
Thursday Mar.
8. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 7.
THE Concern I have for the Errors of Mankind in general, does sensibly abate or increase in Proportion to the Rank and Quality of those who fall under my Observation. For this Reason I can never suffer a Coronet to pass me without enquiring whom it belongs to, and whether it be worn in a Manner suitable to so honourable a Distinction. I can say with a great deal of Truth, that I am commonly answered to my Satisfaction: When it happens otherwise, I carry my Enquiry yet further, and inform my self with the greatest Exactness imaginable, whether the Misfortune of Complexion, or that of Education, has chiefly contributed to eclipse the Lustre, and defeat the Advantages, of a high and noble Descent. Many Failures I find chargeable on the former, but they are not so numerous, nor of so dangerous a Nature, as those which result from the latter, being only such Tendencies of the Mind as, by early Care and proper Application, might have been cultivated and improved into useful and generous Qualifications. It is therefore of the last Importance, as well to the future Happiness of our young Nobility, as to that of a Nation in great Measure depending on them; that their Genius should be nicely observed, their Capacity improved, and a right Turn given to their Understanding. To effect this, I have sometimes had it in my Head to write a Treatise with Directions to Tutors or Governors in the Discharge of so weighty an Employment; but being credibly informed that they were a Sort of People who had little Opinion of any Body's Wisdom but their own, I was discouraged from that Undertaking, and obliged to pursue other Measures. I have within this Twelvemonth made a Coffee-house Acquaintance with as many of them as I could, and now and then over a Dish of Tea enquired into the Schemes and Methods they have laid down for the Management of their Pupils. The first I happened upon, is a grave, sober, and discreet Person, turned of Fifty, his Countenance somewhat formidable, and his Conversation extremely rigid and severe. He has by some Means or other seen the Outsides of most of the Courts in
Europe,
and got a Smattering in the Languages; but having no Taste of polite Learning, nor any Insight into humane Nature, he is much better qualified to wait in an Ante-room, or keep the Accounts of the Family he belongs to, than to conduct the Hopes of it into the World. He has often told me with great Pride and Satisfaction,
"That he has his young Lord in as much Subjection as a Footboy, That he of Course denies him every Thing he has a Mind to, and that in the Midst of his Diversion he can make him tremble with a Frown."
Such is the Love of Tyranny in mean and narrow Spirits, even in the lowest Circumstance of Power. Another of them sets up for a fine Gentleman, and is a Pedant in taking Pains to be otherwise. He has a Notion that Letters are but a poor Accomplishment for a Man of Quality, that a good Air, and being furiously of a Party, are sufficient Distinctions for one that is born to many others; and therefore indulges the Youth under his Care in an immoderate Love of Dogs, Horses, Plays, Gallantry, and all Manner of Entertainments. At Leisure Hours he flatters him with an Opinion of his Superiority to the common Level of Mankind, and strictly cautions him against entertaining the least Regard for the Scum and Dregs of the People. What a Patriot, Hero, and Counsellor, may we hope for from so extraordinary an Education! A Third, whom I suffer indeed to visit me now and then, seems to have a better Sense of his Duty in this Station than either of the others. Knowing that I am a great Lover of Children, he one Day brought his Pupil, who is very young, to my Lodgings. He had long promised him, I found, that he would carry him to wait upon Mr.
Bickerstaff;
and I do not remember, that I was ever so well pleased with being pointed at in Publick, as I was with the particular Survey this little Boy took of me. After this Curiosity was pretty well over, he seemed willing to enter into Conversation, in which he acquitted himself with the utmost good Manners, and a manly Turn of Wit very disproportioned to his Years. I could perceive he had a great Mind to be talking of the
Tatlers,
and I on Purpose led him into it. He made some very surprising Remarks upon several of them, and with an agreeable Freedom ask'd me the Meaning of others that he did not understand. I begged his little Lordship to accept of the Volumes I had by me, and in Return he desired my Leave to be a Subscriber for the next. Ever now and then I had my Eye upon his Tutor, and could perceive in him an inexpressible Pleasure for the good Behaviour of his Charge.
I could not help taking him aside soon after, and telling him, that I almost envy'd him the Happiness of having so fine a Genius in his Hands:
"Go on Sir, says I, to cultivate and improve it, and by that Means be an Instrument of publick Good to your Country. You will never, perhaps, have it in your Power to act in a more meritorious Capacity. Think only what a Pleasure it will be to you, to see this young Gentleman hereafter at the Head of an Army, or managing a Debate in the most illustrious Assembly in the World. Believe me, you will in a great Measure partake his Glory, and act as it were by Proxy in whatever Station his Merit shall advance him to If I can form any Judgment of him at these Years, you will from his future Gratitude and Esteem receive the Fruits of the utmost Pains you can bestow upon him. He will consider you almost in the highest Relation, and next to the Persons that gave him Life, will love and honour one that pointed out to him the Use and End of his Being.'
The TATLER. [No 22.
When shall we Three meet again.
Shakespeare.
From
Thursd. Mar.
8. to
Saturday Mar.
10. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 9.
THough I seldom eat out of my own Lodgings, I was prevailed on the other Day to dine with some Friends at the
Rummer
in
Queen-street.
A Physician, who was engaged to be of the Party, staying somewhat beyond the Time,
Sam Trusty
would needs have me go with him into the Kitchen, and see how Matters went there. I would have excused my self, fearing lest the Heat of the Place, and the Steam of the several Dishes, should have taken away my Stomach; but he assured me, that Mr.
Brawn
had an Art (beyond other Cooks) of making his Customers more hungry by the Sight of his Kitchen. I was indeed very much pleased and surprised with the extraordinary Splendor and Oeconomy I observed there, but above all, with the great Readiness and Dexterity of the Man himself. His Motions were quick, but not preeipitate: He in an Instant applied himself from one Stove to another without the least Appearance of a Hurry, and in the Midst of Smoak and Fire preserved an incredible Serenity of Countenance. By thi
Time the Doctor was come, and made a Thousand Apologies for being so late. He assure
us, by the great Powers above, that nothin
should have kept him but the extreme Dange
of Two or Three of his Patients. We easil
believed him, knowing his uncommon Te
derness for those under his Care, and
the same Time the Multiplicity of his Pr
ctice, without the least Affectation to make
Shew of it. This Gentleman, after we h
dined, was obliged to give Audience to severa
Apothecaries, that came to him with differen
Cases from all Parts of the Town. Havin
some Knowledge of Physick, I took the Libert
of looking over his Bills as he writ them
which he did with wonderful Quickness, an
seeming Inadvertency, entertaining us all th
while with an incoherent, but agreeable Co
versation. Notwithstanding the great Numbe
of Distempers, the infinite Variety of thei
Symptoms, and the Ignorance of those who represented them, he enter'd into them all with an incredible Penetration, and without omitting one Drug that was proper, or inserting one that was otherwise, dispatched more Prescriptions to the Purpose in Three Quarters of and Hour, than Dr.
Ebony
has done in Twenty Years of his Life. It being now towards S
of the Clock, it was proposed that we should go and see
Love for Love,
which was to be played that Night in
Drury-Lane.
I cannot say but this excellent Comedy was tolerably well performed; but I shall be very cautious for the future how I bestow any Commendations on this or that particular Player, since I find by Experience they have not Judgment enough to support the Weight of them: One, whom I
owed to be an admirable Buffoon, having
on that Foot set up for a Critick; and ano
r, from being encouraged by me, to attempt
e Part of
Othello,
having ever since considered
mself and very lately acted, in the Capacity
a Hero. I sate with great Attention during
e whole Entertainment, and could not but
serve, notwithstanding the great Diversity of
aracters that are blended in it, how exactly
e Distinctions of each were preserved thro'
e whole, and that no one Person, from the
ginning to the End, spoke a Sentence that
uld properly have been put into the Mouth of
y other. As soon as the Play was over, I
apped my self warm in my Cloak, and wal
d directly to my Lodgings. As I was recol
cting how I had spent the Day, it came into
y Head that there was a very great Analogy
Resemblance between the necessary Qualifi
tions of a Physician, a Cook, and those of a
ramatick Writer. For the first of these, if we
nsider him in the Hurry of his Business, with
s Head full of
Materia Medica,
hard Names
Distempers, and unspeakable Terms of Ana
my, in these whimsical Circumstances, I say,
what fatal Consequence might the least Over
ght prove? For Instance: Should he chance
prescribe
Catechu, Calaminaris,
and
Ostiocolla,
stead of
Fenugreek Seed,
and
Treacle of Andro
achus,
to one in an
Erisipelatous
Feaver; in
ead of
Compound Bryony Water,
and
Langius
's
ntiepileptick, a Decoction of Bist
rt
,
or
an
uthropapaverous Cataplasm,
in the
Paroxysns
f an Apoplexy, the Patient is lost, and what
much worse, his Reputation ruined for ever.
he Province of a Cook is no less difficult and
erplexing; heated as he is, and confounded
ith the manifold Demands of those about
m, he must be sure not to mistake his Ingredients, nor the exact Proportion of them. N
he must dip in Pepper, now in sliced
Pipp
then in
Pritaches, Troufles, Morelles, Gooseberri
Spinage,
or
Barberries:
One Moment he atte
on
Olio,
the next on
Oysters in Staffado, Eggs
la-Hugenotte;
and in the Midst of all these A
fairs, must be at Leisure to give proper and
rect Answers to Fifty Questions at once.
no less necessary that he should have a gre
Command of the Terms of his Art: He
bre
a Deer, rears a Goose,
aches a Curlew, all
a Pheasant, splays a Bream, sides a Haddock, t
a Barbel, tranches a Sturgeon, barbs a Lobster, &c
The Poet remains to be considered: He inde
composes at Leisure, and is less open to f
quent Interruptions than either of the for
But then the Tastes and Constitutions he is
consult are no less Difficult, and his Work of
more refined and delicate Nature. The infi
Variety of his own Thoughts, is to him what
Crowd of People are to the others. He fin
himself engaged, perhaps, with a Dozen
Fourteen Persons, in a great Measure the Creatures of his own Imagination, each of which
is to furnish with what is exactly proper to their Character, and no more; and to conduct them in the same Figure and Station to the End of his Design. This requires a ready Genius, and a close Attention, otherwise he will fall into gross Errors, and often apply his Wit and Humour in the wrong Place. It is for this Reason, that I, for my own Part, would as soon propose to eat luxuriously in a Cellar, or apply my self for a Cure to Dr.
Ebony
in a dangerous Illness, as hope to be entertained to my Satisfaction by most of our modern Dramatick Performances.
The TATLER. [No 23.
O! Major tandem parcas Insane Minori.
Hor.
From
Saturd. Mar.
10. to
Tuesd. Mar.
13. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 12.
DOctor
Proteus,
of
Wadham College
in
Oxford,
whose Letter I inserted in the
Tat
er
Numb. 9. is at last come to Town. The Whim of the Foot-ball went off upon the Breaking of the Frost, when that violent Exercise natu
ally ceases. The poor Man is mighty sensible of the Condition he has been in, and is so far from being proud of the Spleen, that he is resolved to leave no lawful Means untry'd to get rid of it. He looks very ill indeed, and I fear
t will be next to impossible to effect a perfect Cure, since by the Account he gives me it has run in the Family for some Time. His Father had this Misfortune so very young, that he was a Kit when he was a meer Stripling, and afterwards became in his riper Age a very grave and worthy Hum-drum, or Bass-Viol; in which Capacity, (or rather Case) he served his Country (being at the same Time a Justice of the Peace) for several Years, and at last died in it. Of Seven virtuous Ladies that were his Aunts, Six lived and died Virginals. However as
Art finds Means,
according to the Observation of the most ingenious Author of the Plaister for Corns, I told the Doctor, if he woul
apply himself to the famous
Aesculapius,
should be very glad of joining with him, in order to re-establish his Health. Accordingly he went Yesterday to wait upon him. But I was very much surprized when, upon his coming to me again in the Evening. I found he had not received the Satisfaction we both expected from the Assistance of so celebrated a Physician.
'
Mr.
Bickerstaff, (said he to me with a dejected Countenance) I have been to see my old Friend
Aesculapius.
I found with him a young Man whom I took at first to have been a Patient; for he looked sadly. At his going out, I heard the Doctor say,
Either forbear to use those Powders, or see my Face no more. Ah! old Friend, said he, upon Sight of me, this extravagant Boy will certainly undo me. Have I walked up so many Pair of Stairs to get a little Money together, to have this young Fellow spend it at Twopence a Day for Powder for his Hair? Come sit down, let me know what it is brings you to Town.
I told him my Case in as few Words as I could, to which he answered with a melancholy Look,
That he was not at all surprised at it, since he was but too sensible of his having formerly been a Football himself;
and to let me know what strange Impressions the Mind of Man is capable of, he assured me,
That a certain Gentleman in this Town me long ago took his Face for a Spitting Pot.
I was no less startled at what he said, than at what I afterwards observed. We were no sooner seated, but looking on his Watch, he started up again, and cried,
Adso! we must think of Dinner:
Then stepping into the next Room, he fetched from thence a String. Having fasten'd one End of it to a Nail over his Chimney, he tied a Leg of Mutton to the other, and giving it a Twirl, began a long Complaint of the melancholy Circumstances he found himself in. He told me,
Every Body thought him vastly rich, but they did not know what the Expences of Life were.
Then giving his Mutton another Twirl,
'Tis true,
says he,
I have Fourscore Thousand Pounds in the Funds; but if a Man did not take Care to dress hit
Dinner, he might be poisoned for all that.
So desiring me to reach him the Flower-Box,
Doctor,
says he,
What do you think gilding a Chariot might stand me in?
Sir, said I, What need you trouble your self about that? All the World knows—
All the World may know what they please,
replied he,
but you will see me want before I die. However,
says he,
I think it would do no Harm if we had a Dripping-pan now; Pray give the Box a shake, Doctor, whilst I step and fetch it. You must not take it ill that I put you upon these Offices, there are but few Friends I can trust to do them for me.
He went on,
Do you love
French
Wine? I believe you may; I did once my self: But let me tell you, That White Port is not only the cheapest, but the best Wine now about Town.
Here I interrupted him, and desired he would think a little of my Case.
Why, suppose,
says he,
you went to the
Bath?
I have been there formerly. Or what if you took a Lodging about
Hammersmith?
Or else met me at
Tom
's to Morrow?
I perceived it was much the same which of the Three I did, or whether I did any of them or no; so I e'en took my Leave, and came away. Judge you, Mr.
Bickerstaff,
whether this Gentleman is able to do any Good, as the Case stands between him and me.
As I was preparing to make some very s
ous Reflections on the fantastical Humours
this great Man, a Porter knocked at my Do
and told me, I must by all Means come
to the
Royal-Oak
in
Essex-street,
and at the s
Time delivered me the following Letter:
From the Oak,
Two of the Clock
Dear
Isaac,
THough we know 'tis a busy Day wi
you, we are resolved to have your Company; and for that Reason have sent you th
enclosed Verses, which, if you like them, will furnish out most Part of to Morrow's Paper. You will find them to be a Town Eclogue, and that the Scene is laid in the
Royal-Exchange.
We are
All very much yours,
L. B.
W. H.
J. S.
S. T.
Now the keen Rigour of the Winter's o'er,
No Hail descends, and Frosts can pinch no more,
Whilst other Girls confess the genial Spring,
And laugh aloud, or am'rous Ditties sing,
Secure from Cold their lovely Necks display,
And throw each useless Chasing dish away,
Why sits my
Phillis
discontented here,
Nor feels the Turn of the revolving Year?
Why on that Brow dwells Sorrow and Dismay,
Where Loves were went to sport, and Smiles to play?
Ah
Corydon!
Survey the
'Change
around,
Thro' all the
'Change
no Wretch like me is found:
Alas! the Day, when I, poor heedless Maid,
Was to your Rooms in
Lincoln
's-
Inn
betray'd,
Then how you swore, how many Vows you made?
ist'ning
Zephyrs,
that o'er heard his Love,
t the soft Accents to the Gods above.
s! the Day; for Oh eternal Shame!
d you Handkerchiefs, and lost my Fame.
When I forget the Favour you bestow'd,
Herrings shall be spawn'd in
Tyburn
Road,
etstreet
transform'd become a flowry Green,
d Mass be sung where
Opera's
are seen.
wealthy Cit, and the St.
James
's Bean,
ll change their Quarters, and their Joys forego;
k jobbing This to
Jonathan
's shall come,
the
Groom Porter
's That play off his Plum.
But what to me does all that Love avail,
hilst I doze at Home o'er Porter's Ale,
h Night with Wine and Wenches you regale?
live-long Hours in anxious Cares are past,
d raging Hunger lays myBeauty wast.
Templers spruce in vain I Glances throw,
d with shrill Voice invite them as they go.
s'd in vain my glossy Ribands shine,
d unregarded wave upon the Twine.
Week flies round, and when my Profit's known,
rdly clear enough to change a Crown.
Hard Fate of Virtue thus to be distrest,
fairest of thy Trade, and far the best!
Fruitmen's Stalls the Summer-Market grace,
d ruddy Peaches Them; as first in Place
-Cake is seen o'er smaller Pastry Ware,
d Ice on That; so
Phillis
does appear
Play-house and in Park, above the rest
Belles Mechanick, elegantly drest.
And yet
Crepundia,
that conceited Fair,
idst her Toys, affects a sawcy Air,
d views me hourly with a scornful Eye.
She might as well with bright
Cleora
vie.
With this large Petticoat I strive in vain
hide my Folly past, and coming Pain;
'Tis now no Secret; she, and Fifty more,
Observe the Symptoms I had once before.
A Second Babe at
Wapping
must be plac'd,
When I scarce bear the Charges of the last.
What I could raise I sent; a Pound of Plums
Five Shillings, and a Coral for his Gums:
To Morrow I intend him something more.
I sent a Frock and Pair of Shoes before.
However, you shall home with me to Night,
Forget your Cares, and revel in Delight.
I have in Store a Pint or Two of Wine,
Some Cracknels, and the Remnant of a Chine.
And now on either Side, and all around,
The weighty Shop-beards fall, and Bars resound;
Each ready Sempstress slips her Pattins on,
And ties her Head, preparing to be gone.
The TATLER. [No 24.
O Lycida, vivi pervenimus, Advena nostri
(Quod nunquam veriti sumus) ut Possessor Agelli
Diceret,
Haec mea sunt, veteres migrate Coloni.
Virg.
From
Tuesd. Mar.
13. to
Thursd. Mar.
15. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 14.
THE Dignity and Distinction of Men of Wit is seldom enough considered, either by themselves or others; their own Behaviour, and the Usage they meet with, being generally very much of a Piece. I have at this Time in my Hands an Alphabetical List of the
Beaux Esprits
about this Town, Four or Five of whom have made the proper Use of their Genius, by gaining the Esteem of the best and greatest Men, and by turning it to their own Advantage in some Establishment of their Fortunes, however unequal to their Merit; others satisfying themselves with the Honour of having Access to great Tables, and of being subject to the Call of every Man of Quality, who upon Occasion wants one to say witty Things for the Diversion of the Company. This Treatment never moves my Indignation so much as when it is practised by a Person, who though he owes his own Rise purely to the Reputation of his Part
yet appears to be as much ashamed of it, as
rich City Knight to be denominated from t
Trade he was first apprenticed to, and affec
the Air of a Man born to his Titles, and consequently above the Character of a Wit, or
Scholar. If those who possess great Endowments of the Mind would set a just Value upo
themselves, they would think no Man's Acquaintance whatsoever a Condescention, no
accept it from the greatest upon unworthy o
ignominious Terms. I know a certain Lord that has often invited a Set of People, and proposed for their Diversion a Buffoon Player, and an eminent Poet, to be of the Party; and which was yet worse, thought them both sufficiently recompenced by the Dinner, and the Honour of his Company. This Kind of Insolence is risen to such a Height, that I my self was the other Day sent to by a Man with a Title, whom I had never seen, desiring the Favour that I would dine with him and half a Dozen of his select Friends. I found afterwards, the Footman had told my Maid below Stairs, that my Lord having a Mind to be merry, had resolved right or wrong to send for honest
Isaac.
I was sufficiently provoked with the Message; however I gave the Fellow no other Answer, than that
I believed he had mistaken the Person, for I did not remember that his Lord had ever been introduced to me.
I have Reason to apprehend that this Abuse hath been owing rather to a Meanness of Spirit in Men of Parts, than to the natural Pride or Ignorance of their Patrons. Young Students coming up to Town from the Places of their Education, are dazzled with the Grandeur they every where meet, and making too much Haste to distinguish their Parts, instead of waiting to be desired and caressed, are ready to pay their Court at any Rate to a great Man, whose Name they have seen in a publick Paper, or the Frontispiece of a Dedication. It has not always been thus; Wit in polite Ages has ever begot either Esteem or Fear: The Hopes of being celebrated, or the Dread of being stigmatized, procured an universal Respect and Awe for the Persons of such as were allowed to have the Power of distributing Fame or Infamy where they pleased.
Aretine
had all the Princes of
Europe
his Tributaries, and when any of them had committed a Folly that laid them open to his Censure, they were forced by some Present extraordinary to compound for his Silence; of which there is a famous Instance on Record. When
Charles
the Fifth had miscarried in his
African
Expedition, which was looked upon as the weakest Undertaking of that great Emperor, he sent
Aretine
a Gold Chain, who made some Difficulty of accepting it, saying,
It was too small a Present in all Reason for so great a Folly.
For my own Part, in this Point I differ from him, and never could be prevailed upon, by any valuable Consideration, to conceal a Fault or a Folly since I first took the Censorship upon me.
Having long considered with my self the ill Application that some make of their Talents, I have this Day erected a Court of
Alienation,
by the Statutes of which the next a Kin is impowered to
beg
the Parts and Understanding of any such Person as can be proved, either by imbezelling, making a wrong Use, or no Use at all of the said Parts and Understanding, not to know the true Value thereof: Who shall immediately be put out of Possession, and disqualified for ever; the said Kinsman giving sufficient Security that he will employ them as the Court shall direct. I have set down under certain Heads the several Ways by which M
prostitute and abuse their Parts, and from thence have framed a Table of Rules, whereby the Maintiff may be informed when he has a good Title to eject the Defendant. I may in a following Paper give the World some Account of the Proceedings of this Court. I have already got Two able Criticks for my Assessors upon the Bench, who, though they have always exercised their Pens in taking off from the Wit of others, have never pretended to challenge any themselves, and consequently are in no Danger of being engaged in making Claims, or of having any Suits commence against them. Every Writer shall be tried by his Peers, throughly vers'd in that Point wherein he pretends to excel; for which Reason the Jury can never consist of above half the ordinary Number, I shall in general be very tender how I put any Person out of his Wits; but as the Management of such Possessions is of great Consequence to the World, I shall hold my self obliged to vest the Right in such Hands as will answer the great Purposes they were intended for, and leave the former Proprietors to see their Fortune in some other Way.
Will's Coffee-house,
Wednesday Night.
I am informed here, that upon what I said in my Paper of
Saturday
last, relating to the late Performance of a Play called
Love for Love,
it will be again represented to Morrow. I have formerly done this Comedy the Honour of my Presence in a very publick Manner, and therefore in Respect to my self, as well as to the Merit of That, do strictly command that there be a full Audience both now, and as often as it shall hereafter be played.
Notice is hereby given, from the Profitable Office of Insurance on Births and Marriages in
Palsgrave-Head-Court,
next Door to the
Black Swan
without
Temple-Bar,
That the Directors thereof, at the Request of many of their Subscribers, have obliged themselves to take into Pay some able Proficient in Poetry, who shall article and agree with the said Directors to furnish them on all proper Occasions, for the Use of their Subscribers, with something in his Way, allowing for each Epithalamium, Two Shillings; for Verses on the Birth of a Son,
ditto;
on that of a Daughter, Purpence; and for the Posie of a Wedding Ring, if new, upwards of Sixpence; otherwise, Sixpence and no more.
N.B. Callipaedia,
or the Art of getting handsome Children, having been twice translated; the Authors of those Versions are invited to appear as Candidates on this Occasion, as likewise the tall Gentleman who writ the last new Epilogue for Mr.
Powell
's Opera, which we hear was received with great Applause by most of the Nobility of this Kingdom.
The TATLER. [No 25
— Hinc vos,
Vos hinc mutatis discedite Partibus.
Hor.
From
Thursd. Mar.
15. to
Saturd. Mar.
17. 1710.
From the Court of
Alienation
holden in
Channel Row,
before Mr. Critick
Snap,
and Mr. Critick
Wordy,
Assessors;
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Judge of the said Court, being absent by Reason of a sudden Indisposition.
March
the 15th, 1710. Nine in the Morning.
THE Court being seated, Silence made,
&c.
Mr. Critick
Wordy,
rising slowly from the Bench, spoke in the following Manner:
Gentlemen, I am commissioned by the Censor, whose Place and Authority my Brother and my self, however unworthy, are at present obliged to represent and supply: I am commissioned, I say, to speak a few Words, as well in Relation to the Institution of this Court, as to apprize all such who shall be concerned therein, what they are to expect, and in what Methods to proceed. As to the first of these Heads, I shall have Occasion to speak the less upon it, the Censor himself having lately in Writing communicated the Motives that induced him to erect so wise and necessary an Institution. No one sure can be so entirely a Stranger to the World of Literature, as not to be sensible of the many Abuses that have lately crept into it, which, unless a speedy and effectual Remedy were applied, would in Process of Time bring no small Scandal on the most refined Part of Mankind, and end perhaps (which I tremble to think of) in the utter Extirpation of Letters amongst us. Poetry it self, the Attainment of which (with Submission be it spoken) I look upon to be one of the great Ends of our Creation, would in an Age or Two, it may be sooner, faint, languish, and die away.
Ex illo ruere, & retro sublapsa referri.
I am in the next Place to acquaint you as briefly as possible, and as near as the Variety of contingent Circumstances will permit, what the general Issue will be of Causes depending before us. As for Instance:
Si quis condiderit in quem mala Carmina, Jus est
Judiciumque —
That is to say, in this Case
Qu
the Plaintiff laying an Indictment against
Quis
the Defendant,—
Here Mr. Critick
Snap
interrupted him, and said,
In short, Brother, let us proceed to Business: Every Body that comes here knows what he has to do.
Then an Indictment was read against
Jere
Wrangle,
Batchelor of Arts, for that he the sa
Jeremy
did some Nights ago take upon him, in the Company of several Officers of Her Majesty's Foot-Guards, to deny many plain and undeniable Consequences, under Pretence that the Arguments were not brought in Mood and Figure, and that he could not find in them either
Major, Minor,
or
Conclusion.
The Plaintiff said,
'He had brought the Business into that Court as having no other Way of doing himself Right on one that professed to be a meer Scholar. As for
Majors
or
Minors,
why the Gentleman should twit him with them, he could not imagine, that he had served, and at that Time had his Commission for Lieutenant-Colonel in his Pocket."
The Court, upon a fair Hearing, ordered Mr.
Wrangle
to be divested of his Logick, which was bestowed on one Mr.
Smart,
an Ensign, nearly related to the Defendant, and then appearing in Court to put in his Claim. There was in an Instant a visible Alteration in each of their Faces:
Jeremy
's Pedantick Gravity disappeared, and his Cousin, the Soldier, walked out of Court with a becoming Seriousness in his Gate and Air.
Tobias Sternhold
was next produced in Court by his Relations, who had obtained a Writ of
Captias
against him. They alledged, That having a Wife and large Family, which he might have maintained comfortably by his Industry, (he being a very good Clerk) he had nevertheless given himself up wholly to the making of Things with Rhimes at the End of them, which he called Verses; and that he was come to that Pass at last, that he frequently writ his Orders and Warrants in that Way; insomuch that the Commissioners had threatned to turn him out, which, if it should happen, would
e to the utter Ruin of himself and poor Fami
y: Therefore they prayed the Assistance of the Court. He pretended to justify himself, by saying, That one
Genius,
by Name, had drawn him into it, and quoted the Examples of
Ovid
and
Spencer,
that could not resist the Instigation of Poetry, producing likewise some Instances of Rich Poets still living. Mr.
Snap
took him up short, and bad him not trifle with the Bench, telling him,
"If they writ Verses, it was in their own Coaches, or when they had nothing else to do."
Then Sentence was passed upon him,
"That he should be
Huskanaw'd,
and his Penmanship put into the Hands of his Wife.'
She immediately took down the Proceedings of the Court in Writing; upon which he fell into a violent Passion, and such a Torrent of Words followed, as plainly shewed they had exchanged Faculties with each other.
Then the Court was adjourn'd till the First of
April
next, which falling on
Easter
-Day will be kept the
Monday
following.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 16.
When this last Sentence was brought to me for my Confirmation, I very readily approved of it; and though I was aware that the Term of
Huskanawing
being a Word unknown in any of the Courts of
Westminster,
it might seem an Hardship upon a People jealous of their Rights and Liberties, to impose a new Sort of Punishment upon what has hitherto been scarce accounted a Crime: Nevertheless, out of the Plenitude of my Power, and of my own meer Motion and certain Science, I do ratify and confirm the said Sentence. But as I shall never extend the Prerogative of Censor of
Great Britain
to any unreasonable Bounds, nor use it at all, but for the Good of the People; so for the Quieting of their Minds from any Doubts which might arise concerning this new Word, I have thought it convenient to explain to them what it means.
It is a Custom amongst the
West-Indians
that border upon
Virginia,
for the Priests of the Country to elect a certain Number of the hopefulest young Men, and of the best Families, to make the Operation of
Huskanawing
upon. When they have gather'd together Thirty or Forty of 'em they retire with them into the most inaccessible Parts of the Woods, where they build a large Stove, in which they sweat the young Men. They keep 'em to a very strange Diet, and their Drink is an odd Composition of
Indian
Corn, and Juices of poisonous Herbs, which has such an Effect upon them, that they lose their Hair, their Nails, their Skins, and half of them their Lives, before the Process be half over. They that have Strength enough to hold out till Thirty Days, are brought Home in great Triumph, and these are looked on as the Top Patriots of that Country. This seems to me to be a very wise Institution, and fit to be introduced in my own Country; for the Sweatings, Diet, Drugs and Drink which they have been used to, quite renovate the Men, so that they come out without any Remembrance of their Parents, Country, Loves, Language, or even of their own Names. These are their Heroes, these their Counsellors, these their Ambassadors, these have the Management of all their Publick Affairs, and are maintained at the Publick Charge. I must not omit, that 'tis almost impossible they should, after this Operation, retain any Regard for their former Studies, or in the least desire to return to them: If they should, they durst not own it, for Fear of being taken and
Rehuskanaw'd.
The TATLER. [No 26.
— En quo Discordia Cives
Perduxit miseros! —
Virg.
From
Saturd. Mar.
17. to
Tuesday Mar.
20. 1710.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
March 19.
A Writer who has the World under his Direction, cannot better employ his Interest and Authority, than in cultivating a good Correspondence between Men, and endeavouring to make them agreeable to each other. Notwithstanding the Pains I have taken this Way. I have Reason, from an Accident I met with, to believe I have not yet throughly effected so great and necessary a Work. Walking the Streets this Morning, I met a Gentleman of my Acquaintance who has the Honour to serve his Country in a very useful Capacity.
Oh Mr.
Bi
kerstaff, says he,
you are luckily met; I w
your Advice upon a very extraordinary Occasion. You may command me,
answered I,
to the best of my Understanding; but 'tis a Rule with me, neither to talk nor look wisely in the Street. Please
only to walk into the next Coffee-house—By no Means, Sir,
replied he,
starting back
don't you know that some of the rankest—in
Great Britain
come thither?—Not I in good Truth, Sir; but if they do, I suppose there may be Room for us—Ay marry,
(says he)
and so there may be in the Dens at the
Tower;
for my Part I would as soon venture into one as the other.
I immediately laughed out in his Face; upon which he turned away in great Indignation, and left me to reflect on so extraordinary a Behaviour.
I went on, and having a Curiosity to see these strange Creatures my Friend had spoke of, called in at the Place before-mentioned. I was indeed surprized at my Entrance to observe the Eyes of the whole Herd turned upon me, a full Stop put to their Conversation, and their Dishes for some Time suspended in Mid-Air at a little Distance from their Lips. Turning to the Gentleman at the Bar, I asked in a soft Tone for a Dish of Tea.
There is none made,
said he, in a very surly Manner—
Pray then will you help me to a Dish of your Coffee?—You must stay till it is settled,
replied he,
if you will have any
—I did so, and called for the
Tatler
—A pert Boy looked in my Face, and told me,
They did not take it in since it had left off lashing the Party; I might have the
Review, Observator,
or the
Spectator,
if I pleased
—In the mean Time the grave People round the Fire had a
ittle recovered their Confusion, and by their
hispering to each other, and then staring at me, gave me to understand that I was looked upon as a Spy, or at least an Intruder into select Company. One of them, more bold than the rest, seemed prepared to speak to me, and collected himself in a resolute Posture in order to it; but his Courage
iling, he sunk down into his Chair again,
d suffered me to pass unmolested to a Seat
ext the Chimney. A surly-looking Fellow, who seemed to be one of those who do not care a Farthing for any Body, sate opposite to me, and fixing his Eyes stedfastly upon me, threw out Three or Four of his main Principles in a Breath, expecting, as I supposed, either my Dislike or Approbation of them. A young Gentleman next him, who, I observed, filled his Pipe, and reached the Tobacco-Tongs for him, assented with a Smile to what he said, and could not but wonder,
that any Person should be so proposterous as to think otherwise, or so insipid as to conceal his Thoughts if he did.
The Calmness and invincible Silence with which I received all this Raillery, had like to have brought me into some Peril; for in less than a Quarter of an Hour the whole Fire-side was up in a Passion: Upon which I rose deliberately from my Chair, laid a Couple of Pence without Noise upon the Bar, and stole out in the same State of Neutrality that I came in. I take it for granted, if I had followed my Friend to a Coffee-house of his chusing, I should have met with the same Treatment, only softened a little perhaps by the lucky Circumstance of being introduced by one of the same Society.
A Humour so absurd needs not any Animadversions. Follies of this Stamp are too glaring in their own Nature to suffer any Satyr or Illustration upon them; to which, with some Alteration, may be applied those excellent Lines:
When Actions unadorn'd are faint and weak,
Cities and Countries must be taught to speak:
Gods may descend in Factions from the Skies,
And Rivers from their ouzy Beds arise.
Marlbro
's Exploits appear divinely bright,
And proudly shine in their own native Light:
Rais'd of themselves their genuine Charms they boast,
And they who paint them truest, praise them most.
In like Manner the Embellishments of Ridicule are thrown away in Cases where a plain Narration does more effectually serve the Ends proposed by it.
I must not omit mentioning a good whimfical Business that I accidentally met with in this Adventure. The Boy of the Coffee-house having put one or two of his politick Papers into my Hand, the Title of the
Spectator,
which I had never before seen or heard of, induced me to read it over in such a cursory Manner as that Kind of Writing requires. Towards the End of the Paper, I found a Letter subscribed
C— L—.
After perusing it, I could not without Tears in my Eyes consider the deplorable Condition of this poor Man. The Case of
Ned Prattin,
Salesman, and that of this unfortunate Perfumer, bear some Resemblance; and I have but too much Reason to fear will both terminate in the wretched Circumstances of
Straw and a dark Room.
Whether it be owing to the great Quantities of Snuff he has taken, or to Pride of Heart from the Encouragement I formerly gave him, it is certain that the latter has not for some Time been right in his Mind. His unaccountable Usage of me when I went last into the Country, was the first Sally of his Distemper, which is now broke out into manifest Phrenzy. However unwilling I am to expose him in so publick a Manner, I must hereby warn all Persons whatsoever concerned about him not to trust a Penknife in his Hands, nor any Instrument wherewith he may do himself or others a Mischief; that his Maid do every Night take off his Garters, and remove them far out of his Reach; that he be not permitted to drink out of a Glass, lest he should eat it; nor to feed on Fish, (although it be
Lent
) lest he should industriously choak himself with the Bones.
I would by no Means be misunderstood, as if what I here say were meant as any Reflection on Mr.
Buckley
's Paper. Any Gentleman in his Way may insert such Letters as come first to Hand, and I verily believe That I speak of to be
Charles
's own Writing. Only I cannot help cautioning Mr.
Buckley
against suffering his Correspondents to direct any of their Advices to the said Mr.
Lillie;
for who knows but in his mad Fit he may set up a Daily Paper upon that Foot, and, by giving it out in his Bills that he sells Three Thousand a Day, come into as much Reputation as the
Spectator
himself? For my own Part, as I observe some little Glimmering of a Genius in that Writer, I shall be very willing to encourage him in his Studies. For the present, let him make Use of the following Motto's, as he shall find Occasion, and I will hereafter take Care that he shall want for nothing that is fit for him.
Que tam seposita est, quae Gens tam barbara,
Caesar,
Ex quà
Spectator
non sit in Urbe tua?
Mart.
Spectatorem
potui fecisse
Catonem.
Mart.
Spectatum
veniunt, veniunt
Spectentur
ut ipsi.
Ovid.
Exanimat lentus
Spectator,
sedulus inflat.
Hor.
Spectent
Juvenes quos clamor & audax
Sponsio, quos culta decet assedisse Puellae.
Juv.
Solus ego in
Pallanta
feror, soli mihi
Pallas
Debetur, cuperem ipse Parens
Spectator
adesset.
Virg.
— Audite o mentibus aequis
Aeneadae,
neve haec nostris
Spectentur
ab Annis,
Quae ferimus. —
Virg.
The TATLER. [No 27.
Multa
Dirceum
levat Aura Cygnum,
Tendit,
Antoni,
quoties in altos
Nubium tractus: Ego Apis
Matinae
More Modoque
Grata carpentis Thyma per Laborem
Plurimum, circa Nemus, uvidique
Tiburis
Ripas operosa parvus
Carmina Fingo.
Hor.
From
Tuesd. March
20. to
Thursd. March
22. 1710.
From Young Man's Coffee-house,
March 21.
THE Humour of Duelling having lately very much obtained about Town, I have taken more than ordinary Pains to put a Stop to it. To this End, I have been obliged to appear frequently at most of the Gaming-houses, both the Theatres, and at Punch's Opera. At the latter of these Entertainments, notwithstanding my Presence, there happened one Evening some Advances towards a Quarrel, when Punch, with great Resolution of Body, coming forwards upon the Stage, ask'd the Gentlemen,
If they were not ashamed to commit such Disorders before himself and the Censor of
Great Britain; For which Instance of Respect, I shall ever honour and esteem that incomparable Player. At the Request of my good Friend Mrs.
Man,
I sit here now and then fo
Two or Three Hours together to keep th
Peace, and shall continue to do so till the Officers are gone over; the Value of whose Lives I understand much better than they do themselves, and therefore am resolved to preserve them, though I should incur their Displeasure by doing it, for the Service of their Queen and Country, and the common Interest of
Europe.
Spending so much of my Time at this Place, I shall be obliged now and then to date my Paper from hence, and my Correspondents may, if they please, for a Week or Ten Days direct their Letters hither.
That which follows has lain in my Hands some Time, though, for the great Candor and good Nature express'd in it, I ought to have taken Notice of it much sooner.
New-College, Oxford,
March 15.
Dear Sir,
I Return you Thanks, in the Name of this University, for your Town Eclogue, which we look upon to be a very extraordinary Piece of Ridicule. I am commissioned to tell you at the same Time, that those who were your Contemporaries knowing you to have a happy Talent in Poetry, it is expected you should oblige the World oftner in that Way: You shall want no Assistance this Place can afford. I am making a Collection of the best Verses that are stirring for your Service. Mr.
Y—g
tells me, he has left his Poem, entituled,
The Last Day,
in your Hands, to make what Use of it you should think proper. There is in that excellent Work a Nobleness of Thought, as well as Strength of Expression, which I have not met with in any of our modern Writers. The same Gentleman, I hear, design'd a Tragedy for the Stage this Winter, which was entirely approved by Five or Six of the best Judges in the Kingdom; but Mr.
Cibber
happening to dissent from them, the Town was disappointed of that Entertainment. You shall hear from me again very soon, and I hope then to give you some further Assurance of my being
Your most humble Servant,
T. L.
My best Way of answering this Letter, is to insert Part of the Poem mentioned therein, more of which shall hereafter be publish'd in this Paper.
WHile others sing the Fortune of the Great,
Empire and Arms, and all the Pomp of State,
With
Britain
's Hero set their Souls on Fire,
And grow Immortal as his Deeds inspire,
I draw a deeper Scene; a Scene that yields
A louder Trumpet, and more dreadful Fields;
The World alarm'd, both Earth and Heaven o'erthrown,
And gasping Nature's last tremendous Groan;
Death's ancient Scepter broke, the teeming Tomb,
The Judge Triumphant, Man's eternal Doom.
The destin'd Labour great, nor small his Praise
Whom Force of Genius to the Theme shall raise.
I faint—Yet, Mighty Queen, auspicious shine,
I'll boldly meditate a Flight not mine:
While You propitiate, we of nought despair,
Of from the Muse, or in the doubtful War;
All great Atchievements from your Favo
spring
Your Smile as well can raise the Poet as th
King
But chiefly Thou Eternal and Supreme,
Whence
ANNA
's Self; whence the Sun's glorious Beam,
Exalt my Voice! If Angels strike the Lyre
To Thy Great Name, Oh! all my Soul inspire
If at Thy Nod, from darksome Womb of Night
Sprang Beauty, and you Sparkling Worlds of Light
Vouchsafe me Numbers sweet, sublime, and strong
Thy Greatness, Goodness, Wisdom, fill my Daring Song.
Man bear thy Brow aloft, mark every Grace
In God's Great Daughter, beauteous Nature's Face;
View Spring's gay Bloom, and golden Autumn's Store,
See Earth's Array, and hear dread Ocean roar.
Leviathan
but heaves his cumbrous Mail,
It makes a Tide, and Wind-bound Navies sail.
Here Forrests crown tall Mountains awful Pride,
Here Rivers measure Climes, and Worlds divide;
There Valleys frought with Gold's resplendent Seeds,
Hold Kings and Kingdoms Fortunes in their Beds.
On Eminence sublime their Tow'rs ascend,
And cast their Shadows into distant Land.
ere Ships oppress the Sea, and toil the Wind,
here the shook Center owns the Battle join'd.
iew Cities, Armies, Fleets, of Fleets the Pride,
e
Europe
's Law in
Albion
's Channels ride:
Mark all below that's Glorious, Great, and Good;
Mark
Britain,
and the World is understood.
Then shall the Heav'ns your Admiration claim,
Her Midnight Splendors, Her Meridian Flame;
Learn how each Planet constant to its Sphere,
Calls forth the Seasons, and controuls the Year;
So bright, with such a Wealth of Glory stor'd,
So like in Lustre Nature's Sovereign Lord,
'Twere Sin in Heathens not to have ador'd.
They shine thro' Time, and with unalter'd Ray
See This grand Period rise, and That decay
Those Lights that cheer'd unforfeit
Ed
's Bow'rs,
Now gild the proud
Augusta
's rising Tow'rs;
How Great, how Firm, how Sacred all appears,
How worthy an immortal Round of Years!
Yet all must drop as Autumn's sickliest Grain,
Earth, Air, and Firmament be sought in vain,
The Tract forgot where Constellations shone,
Or where Great
Stuarts
blest an Earthly Throne,
Time shall be slain; Days, Months, Years, all swept by,
All drown in fathomless Eternity,
And Heav'n and Hell alone the mighty Void supply.
The Old World's Prophecies aloud proclaim,
And Sacred Authors seal the Heaven-born Fame,
Sooner or later, in some future Date,
Fix'd, but lock'd up in the dark Book of Fat
When Scenes are chang'd on this revolvi
Ear
And ancient Falling give new Empires Birth;
When other
Bourbons
rule in other Lands,
And (if Man's Sin forbids not) other
ANNE
When Crowns perhaps shall gild a Sulta
Frow
And Turbant's nod on
European
Throne,
While Arts and Arms move on, and Pride a
Gai
And Lust bind Mortals in their ancient Chain
While the still busy World is treading o'er
The Paths they trod Five thousand Years befor
Thoughtless as those who now Life's Ma
ru
Of Earth dissolv'd, or an extinguish'd Sun;
Thick Globes of Darkness shall arise on Day,
In sudden Hell all Earth's Dominions lay;
Deep Night invade the Circle of the Sun,
And bloody Horrors blot the Silver Moon;
From inmost Heav'n continu'd Thunder rowl,
Whilst the strong Eccho bounds from Pole to Pole
Then a vast Trump (one Half in Cloud conceal'd,
One Half to Man's astonish'd Race reveal'd)
Shall pour a dreadful Note: The piercing Call
Shall rattle in the Center of the Ball;
Earth's deepest Bowels glow with darting Pain,
And her huge Body throb through ev'ry Vein,
The solid Mass with fierce Convulsions shake,
The Living die with Horror, Dead awake.
Oh powerful Blast! to which no equal Sound
Did e'er the tortur'd Ear of Nature wound;
Though Rival
Clarions
have been strain'd on high,
And kindled Wars immortal through the Sky;
Though Gods whole Engin'ry discharg'd, and all
The Rebel Angels bellow'd at their Fall.
The TATLER. [No 28.
Morte carent Animae; semperque priore relicta
ede, novis Domibus vivunt habitantque receptae.
pse ego (nam memini) Trojani Tempore Belli
Panthoides Euphorbus eram —
Ovid. Met.
From
Thursd. Mar.
22. to
Saturd. Mar.
24. 1710.
From my own Apartment,
March 22.
MY other Correspondents will excuse me, if I give the Precedency to a Lady, whose Letter, amongst many more, is just come to Hand.
Dear
Isaac,
I Burn with Impatience to know what and who you are. The Curiosity of my whole Sex is fallen upon me, and has kept me waking these Three Nights. I have dreamed often of you within this Fortnight, and every Time you appeared in a different Form. As you value my Repose, tell me in which of them I am to be
Your Admirer,
SYLVIA
It is natural for a Man who receives a Favour of this Kind from an unknown Fair, to frame immediately some Idea of her Person which being suited to the Opinion we have of our own Merit, is commonly as beautiful and perfect as the most lavish Imagination can furnish out. Strongly possessed with these Notions, I have read over
Sylvia
's Billet; and notwithstanding the Reserve I have had upon this Matter, am resolved to go a much greater Length than I yet ever did in making my self known to the World, and in particular to my charming Correspondent. In order to it I must premise, That the Person produced as mine in the Play-house last Winter did in no wise appertain to me. It was such a one however as agreed well with the Impression my Writings had made, and served the Purpose I intended it for; which was to continue the Awe and Reverence due to the Character I was vested with, and at the same Time to let my Enemies see how much I was the Delight and Favourite of this Town. This innocent Imposture, which I have all along taken Care to carry on as it then was of some Use, has since been of singular Service to me, and by being mentioned in one of my Papers, effectually recovered my
Egoiety
out of the Hands of some Gentlemen who endeavoured to wrest it from me. This is saying, in short, what I am not: What I am, and have been for many Years, is next to be explained. Here it will not be improper to remind
Sylvia,
that there was formerly such a
losopher as
Pythagoras,
who, amongst other
ctrines, taught the Transmigration of Souls,
ich, if she sincerely believes, she will not
much startled at the following Relation:
I will not trouble her, nor my other Rea
rs, with the Particulars of all the Lives I
ve successively passed through since my first
trance into mortal Being, which is now ma
Centuries ago. It is enough that I have in
ery one of them opposed my self with the ut
st Resolution to the Follies and Vices of the
veral Ages I have been acquainted with, that
ave often rallied the World into good Man
s, and kept the greatest Princes in Awe of
y Satyr. There is one Circumstance which I
all not omit, though it may seem to reflect on
y Character, I mean that infinite Love of
hange which has ever appeared in the Dispo
d of my Existence. Since the Days of the
mperor
Trajan
I have not been confined to the
me Person for Twenty Years together; but
ve passed from one Abode to another much
icker than the
Pythagorean
System generally
lows. By this Means I have seldom had a
dy to my self, but have lodged up and down
herever I found a Genius suitable to my own.
this Manner I continued, some Time with
e Top Wit of
France,
at another with That of
aly,
who had a Statue erected to his Memory
Rome.
Towards the End of the 17th Cen
ry I set out for
England;
but the Gentleman
came over in dying as soon as he got to
ore, I was obliged to look out again for a
ew Habitation. It was not long before I met
ith one to my Mind, for having mix'd my self
visibly with the
Literati
of this Kingdom, I
und it was unanimously agreed amongst
em, That no Body was indowed with greater
alents than
Hiere
s;
or, consequently, would be better pleased with my Company. I slip
down his Throat one Night as he was fa
asleep, and the next Morning, as soon as
awak'd, he fell to writing a Treatise that w
received with great Applause, tho' he had t
Modesty not to set his Name to that nor to an
other of our Productions. Some Time aft
he publish'd a Paper of Predictions, whic
were translated into several Languages, an
alarmed some of the greatest Princes in
Europ
To these he prefixed the Name of
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
which I have been extremely fon
of ever since, and have taken Care that mo
of the Writings I have been concerned
should be distinguished by it; though I mu
observe, that there have been many Counte
feits imposed upon the Publick by this Mean
This extraordinary Man being called out of t
Kingdom by Affairs of his own, I resolve
however to continue somewhat longer in
Country where my Works had been so we
received, and accordingly bestowed my se
with
Hilario.
His natural Wit, his lively Tu
of Humour, and great Penetration into h
mane Nature, easily determined me to th
Choice, the Effects of which were soon afte
produced in this Paper, called,
The Tatler.
know not how it happened, but in less tha
Two Years Time
Hilario
grew weary of m
Company, and gave me Warning to be gon
In the Height of my Resentment I cast m
Eyes on a young Fellow, of no extraordina
Qualifications, whom for that very Reason
had the more Pride in taking under my D
rection, and enabling him by some Means
other to carry on the Work I was before e
gaged in. Lest he should grow too vain upo
this Encouragement, I to this Day keep hi
under due Mortification. I seldom reside wi
m when any of his Friends are at Leisure to
ceive me, by whose Hands however he is du
supplied. As I have passed through many
cenes of Life, and a long Series of Years, I
oose to be considered in the Character of an
d Fellow, and take Care that those under my
fluence should speak consonantly to it. This
ccount, I presume, will give no small Conso
tion to
Sylvia,
who may rest assured, That
aac Bickerstaff
is to be seen in more Forms
an she dream'd of; out of which Variety she
ay choose what is most agreeable to her Fan
y. On
Tuesdays,
he is sometimes a black pro
er young Gentleman, with a Mole on his left Cheek. On
Thursdays,
a decent well looking Man, of a middle Stature, long flaxen Hair,
nd a florid Complexion. On
Saturdays,
he is somewhat of the shortest, and may be known from others of that Size by Talking in a low Voice, and passing through the Streets without much Precipitation.
The TATLER. [No 2
Quas dederis solas semper habebis Opes.
Mart
From
Saturd. Mar.
24. to
Tuesd. Mar.
27. 171
From my own Apartment,
March 26.
TO be sensibly touched with the Distres
and Misfortunes of other Men, is such
Weakness, if it be one, as I would not pa
with to be Author of all the Refinements th
Mr.
Rochefaucaut
has made upon it. Instead
stifling this tender Disposition of the Mind,
have ever cherished it in my self, and cann
forgive the Want of it in any one else. Ph
sicians and others, whose constant Business li
amongst the Infirmities or Disasters of huma
Nature, seem to have the best Plea for th
Deficiency in this Point; a long Course
Practice in that Way naturally wearing out
Impressions that at first arise from it.
Hipp
crates
however, as he is the greatest Man
his Profession, excels no less in Humanity, a
an insuperable Compassion for the Pains a
Misery of his Patients. This I admire him f
as well as for many other good Qualities.
E
pir
who has little Employment, and l
Understanding, gives himself an Air of Negl
and Disrega
d for the severest Tortures tha
D
temper and his own Mismanagement o
an inflict. He speaks of a Man in his last
oments, as of one that was going to take the
r in
Hide-Park,
and talks over the Convul
ons of a fine Woman with more Indifference
an he would mention her last Appearance in
e Boxes; for which, and being an Atheist,
e expects the Applause of the Company. This Affectation of Inhumanity is no less shocking when applied to other Circumstances of Life; and yet I am well satisfied, that some Persons are at more Pains to make themselves Masters of it, than others to arrive at the highest Pitch of Virtue, Generosity, and good Nature. It were otherwise impossible that an easy Fortune, a happy Constitution, and in short all the Advantages of Life, should strip Men of those Qualities, which, at the same Time that they were highly beneficial to the rest of Mankind, would reflect the truest Honour; and the most exalted Satisfaction on themselves. Amongst the many Refinements upon Pleasure which this polite Age has produced, it is a Wonder to me that so few have hit upon that of Relieving the Poor. This may sound very harsh in the Ears of a fine Gentleman, but most certain it is, that the least Reflection would furnish him with the same Observation. Were it possible for such a one to enter into all the disinai Circumstances of Want, Poverty and D
ress, and to consider how far it may be in his Power to remove them, he would be content perhaps to part with some of his present Enjoyments, or rather, to
xchange them for those of a more exquisite Nature.
The immediate Occasion of my speaking on this Subject, is a Family that I happened
pon in my Walks about Two Days
Pa
g through an Alley in the City, I
the
ry of some little Children, which was so v
y loud and importunate, that I could not forb
looking in at the House where it was.
biggest of them immediately running to
Door, fell upon her Knees, and intreated
God's Sake that I would give her something
keep her Mother from Starving: Upon whi
I step'd in, and found, that this poor Wom
was the Parent of Seven Children, who
stood about her, and as many of them as w
capable of any Impression, seemed more sol
citous for her Relief than their own; tho' ev
ry one of them appear'd faint with Hung
and ready to drop upon the Spot. The Fath
it seems, was very lately dead, and the Expe
ces of his Sickness and Funeral had strip'd the
poor Creatures of the few Necessaries he h
left behind him. I have since recommend
their Case to a Lady of Quality, whose extr
ordinary Goodness makes her esteem an Offi
of that Kind the greatest Obligation that c
be laid upon her. Distresses of the same So
are more frequent than is generally believe
In order to redress which, I must first of a
apply my self to the Fair Sex, and beg the
for that Purpose, to retrench many of their u
necessary Expences, which I shall otherwise
obliged to expose in a very publick Manner.
So bright an Example will not fail to infl
ence the rest of the World, and when th
great Work is in any Measure effected, th
Thanks of many Thousands shall be solemnl
returned them by the Hands of
Isaac Bicke
staff
Esq
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
SIR,
THE Fame of your Writings, the Gra
deur of your Office, and the never-fai
ing Delight your incomparable Essays give me, have with much Pleasure brought me to Town. It was so much my Ambition to see the Great
Bickerstaff,
that the Diversions of the Country, and a chearful Fire-Side, had not Charms enough to keep me at Home. Soon after my Arrival, the Taylor, Sempstress, and Periwig-maker, equipped me for my intended Visit. In
Channel Row
I enquired for the Censor of
Great Britain
—The good People thought I banter'd them, and at best gave me but an uncertain Account. I then went to
White
's and
Will
's, where my Information was no Way satisfactory.—But at length, after I had spent several Evenings at the
Grecian
in the Room on the Left Hand, I verily thought I had found the Censor. There was a grave elderly Gentleman, who, I observed, was exact to his Time of entring the Room, and who with great Formality put off his Cloak, and hung it up, with his Sword and Hat, filled his Pipe, stirred the Fire, and called for the last Mail. These were the Appearances that had seduced me into some Hopes that this Person was the Gentleman I had been in search after; but to my greater Surprize. I soon found him to be a perfect Stranger to you Lucubrations, and your Art and Power of Silence; for his Blood he could not hold his Tongue—He continued his Chat even in Despight of your Chair; so I left him. As I went by the Ba
, I asked who this honest Gentleman was, and they told me, Sir
Thomas Lalos
—Being now fully satisfied by your last
Tatler,
that
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
is no where to be found but in his Weekly Papers, my Curiosity is at an End, and I have taken a Place in the next Day's Coach, but with this Comfort, that my Journey might be of some Use to the Wo
if you'll please once again to expose this tal
tive Evil, which will particularly oblige,
SIR,
Your humble Servant,
F.
Whereas
Polycrates,
Tyrant of
Samos,
di
lately throw a Ring of considerable Value into th
Sea at Mr.
Thurmond
's Masquerade, and where
several
Mackarels, Old Wives, Maids, Thor
backs, Sharks,
and
Dabs,
were seen nibbling about the said Ring; These are to give Notice to all Fishmongers, that if any such Ring should come to their Hands, they are desired to stop it, and upon returning it to his
Samian
Majesty, they shall be rewarded as formerly.
N. B.
In regard to the natural Taciturnity of the said Fish, if any of them shall think fit to restore the said Ring themselves, no Question shall be ask'd.
The TATLER. [No 30.
— Quis tam, Lucili Fautor, inepte
Ut non hoc fateatur? At idem, quod Sale multo
Urbem defricuit, Charta laudatur eadem.
Hor.
From
Tuesd. Mar.
27. to
Thursd. Mar.
29. 1710.
From my own Apartment,
March 28.
IT is certainly very unreasonable that a Man, because he has some Wit, should set up for having more than all the rest of the World. Besides the Folly of such a Presumption, there is an Inconvenience which naturally attends it: When one Man seems to grow into a great Estate in Fame from Nothing, other People are apt to enquire into his Title. The discerning Part of Mankind will be allowed upon such an Occasion to take from him what is not his Due without the Imputation of Detraction. Let
Hilario
be pleasant, and let some of his Friends have Wit; But does it naturally follow from thence that he is a Philosopher? And that it is the Effect of Envy not to allow him all those Excellencies he and they think he has?
Envy is a Vice of such a detestable and pernicious Nature, that I would have it not only rooted out of our Breasts in
Speculation,
b
(which would be much more for the real Goo
of Society) I could wish, that our Behaviou
one towards another might be actually and entirely freed from those Ma
ks of it which a
every Day too visible. For my self, I can safely say I am contented with that Condition Providence has placed me in: My own little Fortune is sufficient for my Necessities, my Friend
are as many as supply all my Conversations
and that small Portion of Fame I have got, wil
give me as much Distinction in my Life-time
and as much Reputation with Posterity, as I desire. For this Reason I was never an Enemy to any Man's growing into the good Opinion of the World. I could with all the Indifference of an
Idle Spectator
sit still, and see my own old Wit every Day put to new Uses by other People. One dumb Man retails my judicial Astrology in
Drury-lane;
and another of the same Sort, who owns he lives somewhere or other, new vamps my cast Lucubrations, and cries my old Morals about the Street every Day in the Week. This is what some People may think a pretty fai
Way of turning the Penny; let it be so, I allow it them. But when honest
Dumb
forgets his Name and his Nature so far as to set up for a Dictator, when he assumes the Magistrate, and prescribes Laws so Manners; in short, wh n he arrogates to himself the Authority of Censor of
Great Britain,
I think it Time to assert my self, and put a Stop to Encroachments of such a Nature. For this Reason I think fit to admonish that Pe son, whoever he may be, not to interfere with my Jurisdiction, unless he can prove himself to be me, an Enterprize of so vain and ridiculous a Nature, that I hope I need not go about to convince my Readers of the Folly it would be to attempt it. From my first Considerations upon Envy, I am naturally led to reflect upon some little ill Offices which have been lately done me. My Maid, who takes the Privilege of an old Servant to talk to me in an Evening while she is warming my Cap, setting my Slippers, and turning down my Bed; as she was in her usual Employment last Night, I believe, Sir, (said she) I should make your Worship laugh if I should tell you a comical Thing that happened to me t'other Day. As our Neighbour's Maid and I were standing at the Door together last
Sunday
in the Afternoon, there comes by a young Woman; I thought to my self I should know her—So she comes up to me—Laud! says I, Mrs.
Ann!
I profess I did not know you—And who should this be but the Widow Gentlewoman's Daughter that lived at the next Door to where we lived before—How do you do Mrs.
Mary?
says she. Very well, says I, Mrs.
Ann,
How do you? And how does your Master do, says she—Very well, says!—Laud! says she, we heard at our End of the Town how an as if he should have given over his Business—Laud! says I to her again, Who should tell you so? Nay, says she, 'twas one told me so; whereupon thought I to my self, says she, if it be so, and if Mr.
Bickerstaff
should leave off his Business, and go into the Country, why, perhaps, Mrs.
Mary
may be to seek for a Place; and so truly I was resolved to come and see whether 'twere so or no—Thank you for your Love, said I, Mrs.
Ann,
my Master is a good Master to me, and I don't think of parting with him yet—Well, says she, as brisk as could be up again to me, if your Master be a good Master, a better will do you no Harm: You'd find another guess Sort of a Man if you were to live with our Gentleman—Pray, says I, and who is your Gentleman? Laud! says she, how strange you make it! As if you did not know our Gentleman that lodges at my Mother's—Well but, says I, has your Gentleman no Name? No matter for that, says she, that argues neither here nor there; but if you have a Mind to have your Wages raised, I can tell you something more of the Matter—Ay, thought I to my self, is that your Business! so, Sir, I was resolved to take no Notice—So (says the to me) but Mrs.
Mary,
What makes you like to live so with an old Man? I am sure, if your Place had been so good a Place as you talk of, Mr.
Lillie
would have hardly come away from your Master—Mr.
Lillie,
said I! Laud help your Head, as if my Master could not do without Mr.
Lillie;
Mr.
Lillie
is no Rule for me, my Master was but too kind to him; and if I had a Mind to have served Mr.
Lillie
a dirty Trick—My Master knows him well enough, and if he had not gone away as he did, my Master had turned him away the
Thursday
after—Nay Mrs.
Mary,
says she, if you are in a Passion, (and indeed I was as red as the Fire) good Night to you. Good Night to you, says I, and clap'd the Door after me.
Tho' I was tired with the Wench's Story, I could not help being pleased with this uncommon Mark of her Fidelity: And at the same Time it was with some Indignation that I reflected upon the little mean Arts that were made Use of to entice away my Servant. I could hardly have believed another Instance of be same Nature, if I had not been assured by
e whole Neighbourhood, that they had ob
rved Two famous known Dogstealers watch
g about my Door for several Days together.
rom all these Things put together, I can't but
magine, that the Person who has a Mind to
ome into my Place before I am willing to go
ut of it, thinks he cannot absolutely qualify
imself for it unless he robs me of my Domesticks. To endeavour at being witty and moral is a laudable Design, and the better Part of the World will always approve and encourage it: But if a Man can't be witty without Mr.
Lillie,
nor moral without stealing my Dog, I believe he had better be contented with a common Portion of Fame, and submit to be thought neither wiser nor better than his Neighbours.
The TATLER. [No 31.
— Secernite Sacra Profanis.
Hor.
From
Thursd. Mar.
29. to
Saturd. Mar.
31. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
March 30.
IT is in my Opinion no small Reflection on the Theatrical Entertainments of this Town, that the intermission of them should be looked upon as a Kind of negative Preparation to Duties of the last Importance. This amounts to a tacit Acknowledgment that they are, in general, calculated for our Diversion, without Regard to our Improvement; that they amuse only and unbend the Minds of an Audience, instead of filling them with great and noble Idea's; and serve rather to sink the Dignity of humane Nature, than to raise in us any just Sentiments about it. Were it otherwise, the Stage would have good Reason to remonstrate against so peculiar a Mark of Infamy, as that of being denied to the World at the Approach of any Religious Solemnity, and forced by that Means to confess an irreconcilable Enmity between the Pleasures of the one, and the Obligations of the other. Notwithstanding all this, I confess, for my own Part, that I receive many Advantages from going to the Play-house sometimes. There is, besides the Play it self, something in the Circumstances of such an Assembly, that gives me a new Turn of Thinking, and furnishes me with Observations out of the common Road. I have a Pleasure more than I ever observed in any one else on that Occasion, in seeing so great a Variety of Faces, as well beautiful as others, and in tracing their several Tempers, Humours and Opinions in their Looks, Air and Behaviour. To sit Three Hours in a Crowd, is in my Opinion a severe Trial of a Man's Understanding, and from his Deportment there I can generally form a Judgment on his whole Life and Conversation. Amongst others, I have ever avoided making an Acquaintance with any Person of either Sex who talked loud, or laboured by any Means to be distinguished from the rest of the Audience. My Friend
Sam Trusty
exceeds me in Penetration. He and I commonly sit together, and between the Acts entertain our selves with reading over as many People as lie within our Kens. He enters not only into their Dispositions, but the minutest Circumstances of their Fortunes, can cast up their Monthly Accounts, knows how their Rooms are furnished, what they eat and drink; and in short, is at first Sight of their Persons let into the Secrets of their respective Families. In taking a Survey of the Front Boxes, we are from thence furnished with many serious Speculations, whilst the more youthful Part of the Company are entertaining themselves on the same Subject after a very different Manner. We examine coolly and without Danger the Symmetry and Proportion of a fine Face; and from the Bloom of a Complexion, are led perhaps into Reflections upon Light and Colours. We were engaged in a Conversation of this Sort some Evenings ago at the Opera, when
Sam Trusty
breaking abruptly,
"Well,
Isaac,
(said he) I could find in my Heart to weep, as
Xerxes
did, over this Multitude of Mortals: You and I remember when the House in
Dorset-Garden
was throng'd with Women as beautiful as those we now behold here. I remember when
Clarissa
lean'd upon her Hand, and looked with the same Indifference on her Train of Admirers as
Bellaria
does at this Instant. Where,
Isaac,
where is now that desirable Person, those Eyes, that Neck? Carry but your Imagination to the Vault where she lies, and from thence instruct those lovely Creatures before you, how much of their Beauty will be transmitted to the next Generation.'
The following Letter, which is just come to Hand, diverts me at present from further pursuing the Intention of this Paper. The Writer of it may, perhaps, please himself with his Raillery. I do assure him, it has given me no other Uneasiness than what I have from a Sense and Commiseration of his Folly; and to shew I am in perfect Charity with him, shall make immediate Use of his Present.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
I Am, pious
Isaac,
in Spight of your canting Lucubrations, a Free-Thinker; and shall continue to be so to the End of the Chapter. However, since 'tis expected from you this good Time to entertain your Friends with some Holiday Cheer, I have sent you the enclosed Verses, which I have transcribed from
Milton.
If you don't like 'em, I will make Rhymes to 'em, slice 'em into Parcels, and present 'em against
Christmas
to the Bellman of our Ward. I am neither
Your Friend, Admirer, Nor humble Servant.
' Thee Father first they sung Omnipotent,
' Immutable, Immortal, Infinite,
' Eternal King; Thee Author of all Being,
' Fountain of Light, Thy self invisible
' Amidst the glorious Brightness where Thou sit'st
' Thron'd inaccessible, but when Thou shad'st
' The full Blaze of Thy Beams, and thro' a Cloud
' Drawn round about Thee like a radiant Shrine,
' Dark with excessive Bright Thy Skirts appear,
' Yet dazle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim Eyes.
' Approach not, but with both Wings veil their
' Thee next they sang of all Creation first,
' Begotten Son, Divine Similitude,
' In whose conspicuous Count'nance, without Cloud
' Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines,
' Whom else no Creature can behold; on Thee
' Impress'd the Effulgence of his Glory abides,
' Transfus'd on Thee his ample Spirit rests.
' He Heav'n of Heav'ns and all the Pow'rs therein
' By Thee created, and by Thee thrown down
' Th' aspiring Dominations: Thou that Day
' Thy Father's dreadful Thunder didst not spare,
' Nor stop Thy flaming Chariot Wheels, that shook
' Heav'ns everlasting Frame, while o'er the Necks
' Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarray'd.
' Back from Pursuit Thy Pow'rs with loud
' Thee only extol'd, Son of Thy Father's
' To execute fierce Vengeance on His Foes,
' Not so on Man: Him thro' their Malice fall'
' Father of Mercy and Grace, Thou didst
doo
' So strictly, but much more to Pity encline.
' No sooner did Thy dear and only Son
' Perceive Thee purpos'd not to doom frail M
' So strictly, but much more to Pity enc
'd,
' He, to appease Thy Wrath, and
the
' Of Mercy and Justice in Thy face discern'd
' Regardless of the Bliss wherein he fate
' Second to Thee, offer'd himself to die
' For Man's Offence. O unexampled Love,
' Love no where to be found less than Divine!
' Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy Name
' Shall be the copious Matter of my Song
' Henceforth, and never shall my Harp thy Praise
' Forget, not from thy Father's Praise disjoin.
The TATLER. [No 32.
Ubi Temperies, & C
li mobilis Humor
Mutavera Via
—
Vertuntur Species Animorum.
Virg.
From
Saturd. Mar.
31. to
Tuesday April
3. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 2.
I Cannot better shew the Concern I have for the
Belles Letters,
than in making such a Provision for those who are turned that Way as may best conduce to their Proficiency in it. The different Seasons of the Year are proper for different Sorts of Performances, which I don't remember any of my Fellow-Labourers in Astrology to have observed in their Yearly Almanacks. This indeed is a very gross Omission; and I question not, if Mr.
Partridge
were alive, but he would readily embrace the Hint, and hereafter improve upon it. Suppose, for Instance, in a Work of this Kind one were to write
Observations on
April.
This Month sow Hemp and Flax, pole Hops, set and sow all Kind of Garden Herbs; restore the Liberty of the laborious Bee by opening her Hive, bark Trees for Tanners, and let good Hous
ives mind their Gardens, and begin to think of their Dairies.
In Gard'ning ne'er this Rule forget,
For to sow dry, and to set wet.
Subjoining afterwards:
This Month also lay the Plots of Plays, and design the Models of Heroick Poems. Set and sow the Seeds of all Kind of Poetry, restore the Liberty of the laborious Muse by opening her Common-Place Book. Cut out Work for the Booksellers. Let extravagant Poets look before them, and begin to think of Bargaining for their Copies.
Their Interest they does rightly measure,
That writes for Profit more than Pleasure.
What follows from my Brother
Rider
is very good.
The Use of Physick becomes now seasonable, and also Purging and Phlebotomy. Abstain from Venery; many Diseases will be taken thereby, to the undoing of many. In Cases of Extremity, pray to God for a Remedy.
Hei mihi quod nullis Amor est medicabilis Herbis!
And I think the
Regimen
would have been perfectly adapted to Writers of Poetry, if he had added that ancient Aphorism,
In Poetry never this Rule forget,
To rise dry and set wet.
I shall not pursue this Thought through all the Months in this Paper but reserve that to my next Almanack. A present it will not be amiss to range the several Speci
of polite Writers under their proper Quarters of the Year.
Those concerned in Pastorals I have elsewhere consider'd. To proceed therefore: As soon as the glorious Planet
Sol
peeps through the Horns of the Celestial
Ram,
Matrimony then coming in Season, I would advise the lesser Sort of Poets to get their
Epithalamiums
ready. The Diversions of
New-market
likewise approaching, let those who can write neither Verse nor Rhime scrub up their
Rindaricks.
The Haberdashers of Songs and Sonnets will do well to frequent
Lambeth, Islington,
and
Richmond-Wells,
and be prepared to celebrate any
Phillis
that should have the good or ill Fortune to be over-turned in the Park on a
Sunday
Night. Being informed that the Town is disappointed of an excellent Comedy by an ingenious Trader's employing his Stock another Way, I believe I may put the Success of the rest of the Comick Writers into
Easter
Term without crowding them.
For the Summer Quarter, any one who has unfashionable Wares lying dead upon his Hands, as tawdry Panegyricks, or faded Satyrs, which neither please the present, nor hurt the past Ministry, is advised to seek out some Plantation or Colony of civil
Indians,
where perhaps they may barter them for Ale, Rum, and Tobacco; and if they should fail there, to proceed on a trading Voyage to the
Bath,
where, by altering the Names, without changing the Substance, their Goods will become Lampoons, and undergo a Fate reverse to that of
Asa Foetida,
which sets out a Perfume from
Surat,
and arrives a Stink at
London.
In one Place it is eat for Sawce, and in the other cures Hysterick Fits. For my self, and others who study in a great Measure for the A
ment of Mankind,
Veniam peti
sque Da
sque
,
to be a little negligent at this Time; for
would be Impudence to pretend to put th
in good Humour that are left in Town, an
we must be down-right stupid to put th
out of Humour who are rioting in Peach
Figs, and Melons in the Country, and who,
prognosticate, will every Day be revived wi
some good News or other from Abroad.
In
September
the Streets ring with Oyste
and Elegies. Some old Men will certainly
and some young Men may perhaps cease
live. In either Case the Heir will succeed
the Estate at Quarter-Day, which is worth the Poet's Consideration. Since by the Inclemency of our Climate, the
British
Vintage usually succeeds this Month, the Dithyrambick Poets may not improperly celebrate the Manufacture of that Juice,
which,
as Mr.
Dryden
has it,
makes the
Britons
bold,
and congratulate the Return of Patriots to their Cares and Watchings for the good of their Country.
As I was meditating in this Way, I fell into a Sort of Enthusiasm: I seemed to behold a Chariot, that had painted upon the Doors of it a Snake with the Tail in its Mouth, which being the Hieroglyphick of the Year, as well as the Ensign of the Divinity of Physick, I was at a Loss what to make of it. Till observing it was
corteged
by broken Printers and Apothecaries, I enquired who the Person was I saw fitting in the Chariot, and what he could be writing. I was answered, That it was the Genius of Heroick Poetry, a
r of the First Magnitude in that Science,
ich generally rose towards the Winter Sol
ice. I went up to him, methoughts, and said, O thou Antimonarchical Praiser of Princes and Heroes! Shall their Glories never be suffered to pass uncommended by thee? When wilt thou learn how unequal to this Task even the best are in the most abstracted Retirement? The Jolts and Rumblings of thy Chariot must needs affect any Verses, and make them unfit to express the Smoothness and Steadiness of this Hero's Conduct and Successes.
I recovered this Delirium as the Bell-man went about with an annual Sort of Poetry, which I had like to have forgot, though I have for many Years with Joy observed it to be a Fore-runner of Mince-Pies and Plum-Porridge.
The TATLER. [No 33
Tam venerabile erat Praecedere. —
Juv.
From
Tuesday April
3. to
Thursday April
5. 1711
From my own Apartment,
April 4.
THE Desire of Superiority is very natural or at least, through the Weakness of humane Nature, has universally obtained in the World. This Disposition, in Persons of a publick Capacity, produces it self in an Affectation of Tyranny and arbitrary Power. In private Conversation the Effects of it are equally disagreeable, tho' less extensive, and serve to give one a Taste of Slavery in Cases of a higher Concern. A Man who has taken this Ambition in his Head, sets up for a Kind of Dictator amongst his nearest Acquaintance, and will suffer them to give into no other Sentiments or Inclinations than what are entirely consonant with his own.
It is worth observing, that every Set of Company does naturally, and without designing it, fall into a Form of Monarchical Government, and pay such a Deference to one amongst them as se ves to keep the rest in good Order. The Abuse of this Power is indeed very frequent, but without some such Regulation many great Inconveniencies would follow. The Diversions
f the Evening would be often at a Stand for Want of a proper Leader: Weighty Disputes
ould have no End, or perhaps a very bad one,
f there were no decisive Judge to determine
hem. In a Word, a President would be mis
ng on the most important Occasions: And in
ome Years the laudable Practice of Toasting would be forgotten, or very aukwardly carried on. The Business of Precedency is of so great Consequence, that the Ladies themselves have not thought it unworthy of their Consideration. Many of them, I dare say, have kept themselves waking for the Peace of Society on this Subject. At Balls, Assemblies, and in Visits, what Confusion would unavoidably arise if this Point were not maturely and properly adjusted? Every Body knows the famous Case of Lady
Formal,
how she whirl'd out of the Room in a Passion, went Home and burned a
ew laced Head, not to say any Thing of the Correction she bestowed on her Domesticks, as
er Husband, her Woman, and her Lap-dog,
or no other Reason, but because Lady
Betty
rt
was placed in a Chair above her.
It is with great Satisfaction I consider the
ains that are taken to settle the same Point in
ll Orders of Men amongst us, from those who wear Shoulder-Knots, to the Masters who im
ose that Distinction of Servitude and Depen
ance. I am credibly informed, that the Foot
en about this Town are very exact in Matters
f Punctilio, that the Generality of them have
r this Purpose made a good Proficiency in
eraldry, and can perfectly blazon the several Coats of Arms they belong to. Tippling
Jack
as never known to commit an Indecorum in
Cellar, or at the Door of a Chocolate-house.
former of which he always drinks first
the Person next himself in Dignity, and at the other, never offered, in the most rai
Night, to take a Coach or Chair from his Be
ters. Idle
Tom
was not without great Difficu
ty prevailed on to appear for Speaker in the
Mock Parliament
against roaring
George,
Cand
date for the same, and having lost it by a
Majority, behaved himself with the utmo
Decency under that Misfortune. In the
Pai
ed Chamber
Things are carried yet high
The common Disorders of Gaming are effect
ally provided against, and no Quarrel suffer
to come to any Height without the Approb
tion of the first Lacquey of Quality that presid
at the long Table. The Use of Swearing i
i
deed promiscuously allowed there, which
know not how to account for. I am my s
an Eye and Ear Witness of the proper Disti
ction which is observed amongst such as
their several Sorts of Merchandize about
Streets of this City. The ancient Woman w
repeats
Brickdust
Nine and twenty Times in
Breath, constantly gives the Wall to anoth
that in a Musical Voice recommends
Jerusal
Artichokes.
The Fellow that fings Perfumes a
Washballs, keeps a due Distance from the T
ders in Oranges and Lemons; and the Haw
ers of Daily
Courants
and
Spectators
pull
their Hats, or drop a Courtesy, to those co
cerned in the
Tatlers.
I remember two facetious Gentlemen of
Acquaintance, who had employed their Tale
in different Kinds of Writing, were engaged
be of a Party: The one, as a Writer of Co
dy, declin'd the upper End of the Table; a
the other, having been very successful in T
gedy, was adjudged to have a Right to
This Determination was thought highly eq
table, and has ever since been carefully comp
ed with. Whether it be taken from this H
some other, the Players themselves, I under
nd, have thought it advisable to proceed af
r much the same Manner. A Hero, by the
les of the House, goes out of a Room before
fine Gentleman; as
Alexander the Great
ight reasonably be supposed to take Place of
r
Harry Wildair,
or
Julius Caesar
of
Dorimant.
ose who have acted in a double Capacity,
ink two Glasses in a Hand, or help them
lves twice to whatever Dish they like best. A
eoman of the Guard is in all Points considered
efore a
Valet de Chambre,
and an Elbow-Chair
es Place of a Joint-Stool. Amongst the Fe
les of the Stage there is no less Order pre
rved;
Ophelia,
in Consideration of her vari
us Abilities, has a proportionable Allowance
f Ceremony, or whatever else she likes best.
Prue
takes the Liberty of giving her self
cy Airs to all that approach her; and when
e comes to be an Empress, may expect to
ave her Privileges encreased.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Whereas it is commonly reported, That Adver
ements for this Paper are taken in by
Charles
lie,
This is to certify, that no Advertisement
ill be received but what is directed to
John Mor
ew
near
Stationers-Hall;
the aforesaid Mr.
Lil
e
being at present indisposed, and incapable of
ecuting his Office.
The TATLER. [No 34
Hae Tibi erunt Artes.
Virg.
From
Thursd. April
5. to
Saturd. April
7. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 6.
THE Letter which immediately follows, I make publick for my own Sake; that which concludes this Paper, for the Entertainment of others.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
HAving a great Honour for your Performances, I think it my Duty to acquaint you with the unworthy Treatment many of your Papers have lately met with. It is my Custom in an Afternoon to saunter from one Coffee-house to another; and as I was the other Day thus rambling about, a Couple of odd Fellows enter'd the Room where I was; one of them in his own short black Hair, with an uncommon Smartness in his Face; the other a thin meagre Person, having much Hunger and Discontent in his Countenance. Whilst the former of these engaged the Man of the House in a brisk Conversation, the latter, I observed, slip'd the
Tatler
into his Pocket, and drop'd two
Spectators
in the Place of it, in order, as I suppose, to stifle the one, and introduce the other. They immediately afterwards went out, and upon following them in a careless Manner to three or four other Houses, I found them putting the same Stratagem in Practice. At last I laid hold of one of them, and resolved to bring him before you, when giving a sudden Spring, he broke loose from me, and with his Accomplice made the best of his Way up the next Alley. I leave it to your Wisdom to take some effectual Measures for the Defeat of these and all other your Enemies, who am, for my own Part,
Your most faithful humble Servant,
F. Y.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
— Longa est Injuria longae
Ambages, sed summa sequar Fastigia Rerum.
Virg.
April 4. 1711.
SIR,
THE Extent of your Lucubrations being such, as to take in whatever may be seriously instructive, or innocently diverting, I presume the following Relation may come within the Compass of them, and therefore venture to lay it before you as it accidentally occurred.
Happening to visit last Night an old Acquaintance, whose Hours of Retirement have been spent in uncommon Contemplations and Experiments, he shewed me under a large Glass, Hermetically sealed up, a spreading Plant, in its full Verdure, strong and lively to the Eye, which he assured me he had raised from its own Ashes in a few Moments. This naturally led him to a Rational Discourse on the Refurrection, which, though succinct, was managed with that Perspicuity, as to answer to Demonstration all the Objections brought against it by its most formidable Opponents, those perfect Masters of Reason's and of Nature's Laws, though very imperfect Christians, Moralists, or Men. But to return to the Plant: It bore the Figure of that
Indian
Weed (if it be lawful to call it one) that more than half the World hold in so great Esteem; and my Friend growing less serious, desired, that (while I smoaked my Pipe) he might take
Aesop
's Liberty, and let the admired Vegetable give its own History in the following Words:
Our Extract is of ancienter Date than that of Mankind, flourishing in the World before the Days of
Adam.
Our Parents, tho' widely distant from each other as Heaven and Earth, yet always kindly concurred in our Generation and Production, raising us higher in their Favour than any of our Sister Plants. As our Birth was for many Ages spontaneous, so was our Life uncontrouled; and while we saw our Neighbours devoured all by Reptiles, Brutes, or Men, our selves securely ranged the
American
Woods unexposed to their voracious Appetites; for as we were Objects of their Love, so neither were they of our Fears. How did the Sun each Morn smile on us with Paternal Rays, and deck us with its clearest Gems, while the Gignatick Trees around (as our Life-Guards) protected us from the Fury of insulting Winds, and only suffered the Fans of gentle
Zephyrs
to refresh us. Thus for long Tracts of Time did each reviving Spring cherish our Infant Days, and Summer's Heat mature us, disclosing all their various Beauties to us, and e'er ill-boding Winter, that mortal Foe of annual Plants, frowned on us, we in a good old Age retired to endless Rest within our Mother's Bosom.
But alas! those happy Times are now no more! For a malicious
Indian
(for what Cause we know not) committed (some Ages since) a grave Ancestor of ours to the devouring Flames, the Odors of whose Death procured us all the Injuries we have since received; for we no longer lived or died in Peace, but fell an easy and defenceless Prey to numberless Tortures, invented by the barbarous Nations round, to ravish from us all our new discovered Sweets and Virtues,
This was not long our Case before the Inhabitants of an unknown World came, and inflicted on them as many Deaths as they on us; a just Return for their inhumance Treatment of us poor Innocents! But these too proved, alas! as merciless as those, and have ever since forced us into Life by their malicious Art and cruel Care, to be untimely torn from our Mother's Breast, then left to scorch with Thirst and pine away, and instead of a kind Burial in our Native Soil, transported us to far distant Regions, where our withered Flesh stripped from our shrivel'd Bones, was cut in a Thousand Pieces by Engines of a dire Invention.
Nor are these last Complaints unjust, for though when plucked from Earth our Vegetation ceases, yet do we still retain our Spirits in full Strength, and so are never released from Pain till totally consumed in Flames.
To enumerate the Qualities I have been famed for, the Usage I have met with, and the various, and sometimes contrary Effects ascribed to my powerful Operations, would be an endless Task; I shall instance therefore only in some few.
At first I was the Prisoner of the meanest Sort, confined in greazy Pouches, and visited with them my native Fields and Hedges: But I soon got the Esteem of those who kept me in a nearer, though a stronger Prison, and so was introduced to Shops and Taverns. Then the learned Faculty began their curious Searches into my hidden Virtues, and could not long conceal their good Opinion of me, which quickly exalted me to the sublimest Heads, so that the Statesman, Lawyer, and Divine, admitted me to their Closets and their Studies; and I have often since been the obstetrical Assistant of many a teeming Brain. How often have I created a keen Appetite to him that before had none; and, which is stranger, as often filled a hungry Belly? Many a Time have I received the Thanks of the Scholar at his Books, the Trader at his Accounts, and the Soldier in the Camp, for the Thoughts I have inspired, the Composedness I have occasioned, and the Refreshment I have administred. The Sick have praised my Cures, the Healthy my Preventions, the Solitary my Amusements; and thus have I gratified the greatest Part of the Male World, but generally been the Aversion of the Fair.
I was once indeed the private Favourite of a Maiden Lady, but unfortunately discovered by her Admirer, by being forgotten to be thrust behind the Hangings; and he, not able to brook so disgustful a Rival, immediately dismiss'd his Suit, which produced a Shyness between the whole Sex and me in my ancient
orm ever since.
But since I have been refined by the new Mode of crushing me to smallest Atoms, instead of being kept Prisoner as before to expire in Flames, I have had all the Riches of the
East
bestowed in fitting up Apartments for me, and am become the constant and beloved Companion of the most celebrated Wits and Beauties. I freely visit now the Church, the Court, the Mansions of the Great, the Tea-Table, and the Closet, and every Resort of highest Quality.
Nay, I'm not refused the Virgin Bed, but often dwell at Midnight on the sweetest Lips, and wake the chastest Fair with Longings to embrace me. By this new Art I gain a free Admission to the Brain too, and am as it were immortalized by being almost mixed with Thought it self. But what I value more than all is, that I am the richest Jewel in the
British
Diadem.
So concluded my Friend and Pipe, and so concludes,
Your most Obedient, Most Humble Servant,
Pixidicula.
This is to certify whom it may concern, That Mr.
Dighton,
Perfumer, in
Fleetstreet,
upon the Misfortune of Mr.
Lillie,
having, amongst many other Candidates, made humble Application to the Censor to succeed him in his Employment, the said Mr.
Dighton
is appointed First Secretary to
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
and is now preparing and drawing up a Proclamation for the apprehending and taking of those Persons mentioned in the former of the foregoing Letters, together with such as shall hereafter be found making Use of the same indirect and clandestine Practices, as likewise for removing all Persons disaffected to the Power and Authority of the Censor Ten Miles distant from the Cities of
London
and
Westminster.
The TATLER. [No 35.
Dulcis inexpertis Cultura potentis Amici
Expertus metuet —
Hor.
From
Saturday April
7. to
Tuesd. April
10. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 9.
HAving, as I formerly observed, passed through an infinite Variety of Scenes in humane Life, I cannot better employ the Reflections I have made upon them, than by instructing those in the Paths they ought to pursue whose Youth and Unexperience would otherwise betray them into a Thousand Mistakes. Of all others I have a tender Regard for such as apply themselves to those Arts and Sciences which gave me some Reputation in the Days of the Emperor
Trajan.
I was esteemed the greatest Wit of that Age; but, by a Misapplication of my Parts and Learning, came to an ignoble End. This is a reigning Misfortune amongst the Genius's of the present Age, but has indeed prevailed much more in some foregoing Reigns. It is with the utmost Indignation that I see many great Capacities prostituted to the most unworthy Purposes, and the World in a Manner corrupted and debauched by Persons whose Talents seem intended for the Ornament and Reformation of it. Next to the Want of Morality, I bewail the Narrowness of Fortune which too often presses Men of a liberal Education, and which perhaps is one Step towards leading them into the former. A young Fellow who is uneasy in his Circumstances, is naturally betrayed into those Follies which recommend him to Company, and give him Hopes of making an Acquaintance that may one Time or other turn to his Advantage. With this View he gives into many Fooleries that he secretly despises, and at last is harden'd into Vices which he formerly abhorred. The Students of both Universities are on this Account in a peculiar Manner the Objects of my Care and Concern. As often as I see a new Face about Town, that promises much good Understanding, and a lively Imagination, I conclude it came up by the last Coach from
Oxford
or
Cambridge.
I am immediately upon the Rack to consider the many Difficulties such a one must encounter, the Attendance he must pay to insolent Greatness, the frequent Shocks he will receive from the Promotion of inferior Merit, from the Dissimulation of some, and the Envy of others; and at last, from the mean Reward he is likely to meet with for a long Course of Slavery and Dependance.
The following Letter has partly suggested to me this Way of Thinking, which seems to be written rather in Confidence than with a Design to have it published, but that the Postscript does more fully explain the Intention of it.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Sheer-Lane,
April 9.
SIR,
IF the Distresses of Mankind do really fit so near you as we are given to understand by your Paper of the 27th of the last Month, I have but too just a Right to your Compassion, and the most tender Advice you can bestow upon me.
It was not long since my good Fortune to be a Member of — College in
Oxford,
where I spent Four Years in a Manner perfectly innocent and agreeable to my Temper. Good Part of my Time was spent in Reading, the rest in such Amusements as the Place afforded. I was generally well esteemed by the few I was known to, and being not much turned to Gallantry, made a Shift to be easy without the Company of Ladies, which, every Body knows, are scarce in those Parts. During this Retirement, I happened to write a Copy of Verses which alarmed Two or Three of the Top Booksellers in this Town, and gave them Hopes of me for a future Author of some more considerable Work. Whether they employed my Acquaintance to flatter me on that Occasion I know not, but, to my utter Ruin, I received incredible Applause for my Performance. Soon after, I took it in my Head that the University was too narrow a Sphere for me to act in. I formed to my self great Notions of my Reputation at
London,
and thought it would be taken amiss, if I did not go and visit my Friends and Admirers there. I made a Journey accordingly, and had the Honour to be introduced to some Persons of a considerable Figure. Now, thought I, my Fortune is made; I have seen the greatest General, and the best Poet in
Europe.
My old Friends in the mean Time whom I had left behind me, sent frequent Letters of Congratulation upon the Prospect I had of coming into the Ministry, which I received, and answered with the Air and Style of one that was already in Employment. I affected, for Instance, a new Way of writing my Name, of making up my Paper, and of subscribing my self according to the Forms received in the Offices about
Whitehall.
The great Civility and good Manners of many whom I was presented to, had like to have led me into some Mistake: Through my great Ignorance, and Want of Breeding, I believed every Word they said to me; and when they assured me,
they would do me any Service that lay in their Power, that they had a great Opinion of my Merit, and only wanted an Opportunity to shew it;
I had no more Complaisance than to take them at their Words, and look out for Occasions of trying their Friendship. In the mean while my slender Fortune run out apace; the Spleen succeeded, and I am now, in every Essential, as errant a Wit as any about Town. Words cannot express the Shame, Scorn, and Regret I have for my past Indiscretion, which I can no otherwise atone for than by laying it open in this Way for the Good of others, and applying at the same Time for Advice to Mr.
Bickerstaff
with Regard to my future Conduct. I am,
SIR,
(With great Respect) Your most Obedient, Most humble Servant,
W. H.
P. S.
I shall hope to see this in your next Paper.
This Case shall be taken into Consideration, and the Censor's Opinion delivered upon the same.
The Verses subscribed
H. G.
are received, and many Thanks returned for them, as likewise for the Letter from
Philanthropos.
Mr.
Twining,
at
Tom
's Coffee-house in
Devereux-Court,
a Man eminent for his great Probity and indefatigable Industry, is appointed Under-Secretary to Mr.
Dighton,
and will wait at the Bar of his own House this present
Tuesday
in the Evening to receive the Compliments of his Friends upon the same.
The TATLER. [No 36.
Nescio quod, certe est, quod me tibi temperat Astrum.
Pers.
From
Tuesd. April
10. to
Thursd. April
12. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 11.
IN taking a Survey of Mankind, one cannot but observe an universal Pursuit of what they call Pleasure, and at the same Time the grossest Mistakes about the Notion of it. Not to enter into more Particulars, let it suffice, that in the Catalogue of Things conducing to this End, Friendship is generally omitted, and either not at all considered, or else exploded and laughed out of Countenance. The Truth is, our Vanity seems to have got the better of our Reason, and choose rather to appear happy than be so. Hence it is, that instead of cultivating an Intimacy with a few, we make a superficial Acquaintance with all that offer, and are more desirous of being seen by a Multitude, than rightly known and understood by any. The Want of Virtue is at the Bottom of all this: Having no true Principles of Honour, Generosity, or good Nature, we naturally avoid being too strictly enquired into, and therefore are cautious that those about us should not take any Freedom beyond what a mixed Kind of Conversation will allow. It is suf
cient that a Set of unthinking young Fello
can meet over a Bottle, and make a Shift
pass the Time with trifling and indifferent T
picks, without ever entertaining the least m
tual Regard, or examining into the Merits
one another. It will be difficult to perswad
such Men that they have not yet tasted one
the most exquisite Enjoyments that the Soul
capable of, or that they have it in their Powe
to open to themselves a more delightful Wa
of Living than they have hitherto been acquainted with. Talking the other Day with
very young Gentleman on this Subject, I could not help asking him,
"Whether, amongst the many Affairs he had made with the Ladies, he had never yet happened to have one of an honourable Nature upon his Hands?"
He frankly confessed he had; and upon being further pressed,
"That he found more Satisfaction in the Pursuit of That, than from all the Successes he ever met with in those of another Kind."
"Believe me then (said I) there is no less Difference between the idle Amusement of a common Acquaintance, and the refined Endearments of an intimate Friendship."
I insisted the more on this Point with a Person who was as yet in a great Measure a Stranger to the World, because it is very certain, that the sooner this Notion is received, the more advantageous it proves, and is a Means of preventing many Miscarriages in our Behaviour. For my own Part, amongst a Thousand other Obligations which I owe to my Parents, I must particularly acknowledge that of instilling an early Benevolence to Mankind in general, and a Desire of fixing my self in the Affections of one or more who should appear best qualified for so near an Alliance.
Sam Trusty,
whom I have often mentioned in these Papers, was almost my first Choice, and has preserved me from many Errors which Youth and Indiscretion would otherwise have led me into. I am infinitely obliged to my Cousin
Humphry Wagstaff
on the same Account, as well as for the great Assistance he has given me in the Prosecution of this Work. My Conversation with each of these Gentlemen is a Kind of elegant Retirement from the World, as it furnishes me with the justest Remarks upon the several Occurrences in it. Our Sentiments are communicated without Reserve, insomuch that our ordinary Discourse is by the latter stiled Thinking aloud. In this happy Situation of Life we stand less exposed than others commonly are, either to the Strokes of Fortune, the Ill-nature of our Enemies, or any Calamity that can befal us. In the mean Time all our Enjoyments, by being shared amongst us, are heightened and improved in Proportion to the Pleasure that every Individual receives from them.
In order to make Mankind happy in the Relish of so refined a Commerce with each other, I could wish our present Writers of Plays, instead of filling their Works of that Sort with the Business of Love, would sometimes diversify them with the Distress of Friends, their Heroick Behaviour under it, with all the beautiful Incidents that History can furnish, or a warm and noble Imagination suggest upon that Model. I am sensible how great a Genius is required to this Task; but whenever the Prudence of our Superiors shall think fit to deliver the Stage from the State of Slavery and Mismanagement it now labours under, I shall not despair of seeing this and many other excellent Designs happil
put in Execution.
An humble Retainer to the Theatre havin
made the following Application to me, I t
this Occasion of making it publick, and of a
suring the Person concerned, as well as others who may hereafter fall into the same Misfortune, that neither the corrupt Dealing o
Charles Lillie,
tho' a Lunatick, nor the Insolence of those who support him in it, sha
pass unnoted, or unpunished, by the Rightfu
Lawful, and Undoubted Censor of the Unite
Kingdom of
Great Britain.
SIR,
I Am the Poor Woman that has had the Misfortune to be always in the Way when Don
John,
in the Play call'd
The Libertine,
sends his Footman out for a Whore; by which Means, I believe I may venture to say, I have, modestly speaking, been ravished upwards of Five hundred Times. By this Employment, and that of Lightner to the Opera's, I have made a Shift to get a comfortable Livelihood: But since there is a worthy Gentleman who has taken upon him to regulate our Stage; and that, if I should be turned out, I am too old to turn my Hands to any other Business, I must humbly implore your Honour's Protection, and that you would be pleased to do therein as to your great Wisdom shall seem fit.
And your Petitioner shall ever pray.
E. G
SIR,
All the Women of our Stage have made a Party against me upon the Account of this Accident in the
Libertine,
and say, that another such Instance of Chastity might ruin them; for which Reason, and because I have no Money to make an Interest with Mr.
Lillie,
t'other Gentleman's Agent, I shall be undone, unless your Honour will pity my Case.
The TATLER. [No 37.
Cuncti adsint, merit aeque expectent Praemia Pàlma.
Virg.
From
Thursd. April
12. to
Saturd. April
14. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 13.
I Know not how it happens, whether through a Misrepresentation from my Enemies, or a Misunderstanding in some of my Readers, an Opinion has lately obtained; that I allow no Body to have any Share of Wit or Humour but my self; that I industriously suppress the Attempts of others in that Way, and will not so much as suffer a young Writer to thrive under my Shade. These and a Thousand Calumnies of the same Nature have by some Means or other, though with the utmost Injustice, been spread amongst Persons well affected
my Interests, who have thought themselv
obliged, by Letters and other Ways, to gi
me repeated Notice of such unhandsome Pr
ceedings. If I can promise any Thing for
self, it is, that I have no greater Ambition tha
to improve, cultivate and encourage a promising Genius wherever I meet with it, and no
only to refine the Morals of Mankind, but t
make even their Studies and Productions mo
entertaining and agreeable to one another. I must confess indeed, that ever since my fir
entring upon the Censorship, I have been very tender of suffering any Incroachments to be made upon the Dignity of that Office. I have now and then shewn the Error of those who offered to invade a Province so peculiarly my own, and by a seasonable Rebuke put a Stop to many growing Inconveniencies. At a Time when we are engaged in a just and necessary War Abroad, of what fatal Consequence might it have proved to make a new Division at Home? Which must unavoidably have risen, had I suffered any further Competition for so great an Employment. A Man must have little Regard for the Interest of
Europe,
who can be tempted by any Consideration to embroil his Country in Quarrels and Disputes at so critical a Juncture. What I have said therefore in any of my Papers upon this Occasion, will by all Persons of Candor and Discernment be considered rather as an Instance of my Care for the Publick, than of any View to my own Authority and Advantage. If others have been unhappily provoked by it to make rash and indiscreet Reflections upon me, I am heartily sorry for their Misfortune, and wish that their Passion had not made them incapable of receiving Advice from their truest Friend, upon that Subject. I shall only say at present,
t as it is evident they have imbarked in a
ong Bottom, they will do well to give off as
on as possible; for, next to the Honour of a
ccessful Engagement, is that of a handsome
treat.
To vindicate my self yet further from t
putation I before mentioned, as I have late
assigned the proper Seasons of the Year for
erent Kinds of Writers, I shall hereafter
something more material for the Encou
gement of their Labours. In an Age where
the Generosity of Great Men extends even
Opera's and Puppet-Shows, I cannot but
lieve they will be easily perswaded to en
urage such Entertainments as tend to the
egulation of Manners, and the Improvement
f our Understandings. For this Purpose I
ave already formed a Scheme, wherein pro
er Prizes are allotted for several Sorts of
erformances, those of the
Drama
being first
nsidered, and the rest in proper Order. The
rticulars shall be communicated to those
ho are professed Patrons of polite Learning,
ithout Regard to Party, and because their
umber is but small, their Subscriptions must
ecessarily be the larger. I do not despair of
eing my self a Contributor, having deter
ined to assign a considerable Part of the
rofits arising from my own Lucubrations to
ards so useful a Project. I must premise
general, That no Comedy will be admit
d without a Moral, nor any Tragedy that
rns wholly upon Love, as likewise that
rces are wholly excluded. In Epick Poems,
e fewer Machines the better: Heathen Gods
Goddesses will not be suffered; nor any
igned Names to introduce either the past or
esent Ministry. If a Peace should intervene, nothing on that Topick shall be received t
was written before the Preliminaries w
signed.
That the Beauties of each Performance
be clearly discerned, and their Blemishes
covered, I shall in the mean Time take O
sion to print a Treatise separate from my
ther Papers, formed upon the best Rules
Antiquity, and the approved Sentiments of
present Age, entituled,
Mr. Bickerstaff
's
Sp
cles;
by the Assistance of which, the Jud
on this Affair shall be enabled to disting
rightly upon
Thoughts, Diction, Turn,
cule, Style, Spirit, Natural, Sublime,
and all the other Circumstances of Wri
which I have mentioned elsewhere, that
come before them. This Manual, (for it
not exceed that Compass) I will order to
left at
White
's Chocolate-house Gratis, tog
ther with a Spelling-Book for the Help
Learners. At
Will
's it will be taken in
Course, and may from thence, perhaps, receive many proper Additions and Amendments.
I shall conclude with acquainting my Readers, that although I do not pretend to ingross to my self all the Wit, Humour, and Learning in this Kingdom, yet I shall by no Means suffer any other Person to set up for an ultimate Judge in Matters of that Nature Mr.
Lillie
escapes very well that a Statute
Lunacy
is not yet taken out against him; and others, his Abettors, that one of
Idiocy
has not yet been occasioned by their idle and unreasonable Proceedings.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Whereas Mr.
Bickerstaff
has received certain
vice, That one
John Mackstaff,
of the City of
enburgh,
in
North Britain,
has taken upon
the Character of
Censor,
and thereby delu
d many of the Gude People from their Duty
d Allegiance to the said Mr.
Bickerstaff,
He
th hereby charge and require the Magistrates
the said City of
Edenburgh,
upon Pain of his
ispleasure, to seize and apprehend, or cause to
seized and apprehended the said
John Mack
aff
as an Imposter and Enemy to his Power and
uthority, and to detain him in strict Ward and
ustody till further Orders. Signed,
Robert Dighton.
And underneath,
Thomas Twining.
The TATLER. [No 38
Sic positae—suaves miscetis Odores.
Virg.
From
Saturd. April
14. to
Tuesd. April
17. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 16.
HAving received lately several Letters from my Female Correspondents, I shall communicate some of the most important of them to the Publick in the Order I received them.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Winchester in Hants,
April 7. 1711.
SIR,
I Came hither about a Week since, being forced from
London,
where I spent the Winter, by the Commands of my Mother, who took it in her Head that I grew too fond of that Place, and was in Danger of throwing my self away upon some idle young Fellow or other. It is not to be expressed how melancholy I am here: My Heart akes at this Instant as if it would break; I look upon no one Object with Pleasure. The Fellows whom I liked well enough Half a Year ago, appear silly and aukward, and even the Cathedral Church, of a
Sunday,
affords me no Entertainment. What shall I do, dear Mr.
Bickerstaff,
to remove the Heaviness that sits upon my Heart? How shall I divert my self in this wild and solitary Retreat? Formerly indeed I could spend whole Days and Nights in turning over my Romances; I could with infinite Pleasure rove about the Wilderness, in our Garden, and charm the Rival Nightingales with the Musick of my Flute. How often have I there unbound my Silver Locks, and given them to be the Sport of wanton
Zephyrs?
Young ruddy Damsels waited round me, and decking me forth with all the Pride and Beauty of the Spring, proclaimed me Goddess of the Place—Oh cursed
Damon
—That dear dissembling Youth! He, alas! has robbed me of my Innocence, and with it, of all the pleasing Errors that made Solitude delightful, and gilded over these Silvan Scenes—
He in short, Sir, has turned my Notions another Way, and given me a new Set of Desires and Inclinations. If you will bestow some Advice upon me, I will endeavour to follow it, and give you a constant Account of the Success it has with me. If I at all understand my own Case, I am by my present Circumstances very well qualified for a Rural Censor, and can see no Reason why Women should be excluded that Office. I promise you to have a very strict Eye upon my own Sex, and may perhaps let you into some Secrets relating to them that have hitherto escaped your Censure. The faithful Execution of this Employment will be a Means to divert my own Spleen, and may perhaps conduce to the Gratification of yours, and that of many Thousands more. I will in all Things act as becomes the Substitute of so great a Person, and one who has a Desire to approve her self,
Your most humble Servant,
Belinda.
The Case of
Belinda
is in my Opinion very deplorable, and would, if fully considered, give Occasion to many useful Reflections. At present I shall only observe upon it, that the Blemish she has received in her own Character is by no Means a Step towards a Power and Jurisdiction over the Conduct of others. I am not unwilling to admit some of the Fair Sex into the Employment she sollicits for, having in general a great Opinion of their Capacities, as well as of their earnest Desire to reform the Manners of those about them. It may not however be amiss to give the Electors in this Point a short Abstract of the Qualifications requisite to a Female Censor, lest any Mistakes should happen upon so weighty an Affair: As first, That she is indeed with an habitual Silence; Secondly, That she has a known Hatred to Scandal and Detraction; Thirdly, That she neither pays nor receives any impertinent Visits; Fourthly, That she is a constant Reader of the
Tatler;
And Fifthly and Lastly, That she has, besides other Books, a huge
of Receipts.
The following Billet is of no less Consequence than the former.
SIR,
I Have a great Quarrel to Mr.
Jervoise,
and at your Hands demand immediate Justice upon him. He has lately done a Picture of me, which is allowed to be extremely like, and no less beautiful, though at the same Time my Face is but very indifferent. By this Means he has raised the Expectation of all who have seen the Piece, to my great Disadvantage in the Disposal of my Person. Every Body allows that he has shewn himself an admirable Painter, and secretly wish, that Nature had been as kind as Art has been indulgent to me. For my own Sake therefore, and that of many others in the
ame Circumstances, I humbly move the Court for speedy Sentence on so notorious an Offender.
And your Petitioner shall ever pray.
Ordered,
That Mr.
Jervoise
be fined a Half-Length of the Censor, done after the same Manner as is mentioned in the above-written Complains, and that he be in Readiness to receive him on
Wednesday
next, between the Hours of Nine and Ten in the Morning.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Honoured Sir,
I Have examined your Lucubrations with the utmost Care and Diligence, but can find nothing relating to my present Case. Whether your Thoughts have been employed on more useful Subjects, or whether Circumstances so entirely alter the Nature of Things that it is impossible to define them; but if so it happens, that the Importunity which a Man should use in the Recovery of his Own has wholly escaped you, I could read a Dissertation of yours upon Dunning with more Pleasure than I ever looked at a new-fashioned Toy. You only can direct us how far a Gentleman may be decently pressed, and whether Personally or by Billet is the more proper Method.
If you knew how much I was interested in this Affair, I perswade my self, your Concern for the Sex would hasten your Resolution. I cannot look at poor
Charles
's Face without bathing it with a Flood of Tears. Had he sold Cast Work for Hammer'd, or Horn for Tortoise-Shell, I could moderate my Resentments; but to be kick'd, disabled, and caned like a Stockfish for only demanding his Due, is an Indignity not to be suffered in a free Country.
Good Mr.
Bickerstaff,
take a distressed Woman into your Protection, and give me such Redress as you in your great Wisdom shall judge suitable to the Offence, and believe my Application to the Censor of
Great Britain
to proceed only from the Equity
I have observed in all your Determinations. I am
Your most Devoted, Humble Servant,
Sarah Bubbleboy.
Ordered,
That Mr.
Dighton
and Mr.
Twining
do enquire, whether the Kicks and Blows given were by
Neats
or
Calves
Leather,
Jambees
or
Dragons;
after which Mr.
Bickerstaff
will proceed accordingly.
The TATLER. [No 39.
Torva Leaena Lupum sequitur, Lupus ipse Capellam,
Florentem Cytisum sequitur lasciva Capella,
Te Corydon, O Alexi, trahit sua quemque Voluptas.
Virg.
From
Tuesd. April
17. to
Thursd. April
19. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 18.
ONE great Design of this Paper is to reconcile Men to their several Stations in Life, and to remove that Uneasiness which commonly arises from the supposed Advantages of those about them. Unless this be in some Measure effected, it is in vain to expect any great Success from Precepts of another Kind; a Person who is out of Humour being as incapable of receiving Advice as bestowing it on others. The Stake chiefly contended for is Power, and this, if I mistake not, is more equally divided than we commonly imagine. The executive Part of it seems indeed to be pretty much engross'd by Men of great Fortunes and large Possessions. They, 'tis true, carry about them all the Distinctions of Grandeur and Superiority, they are attended by Maces, adorned with Ribands, and crowded by a numerous Train of Dependants. In the mean Time it must be no small Satisfaction for a Man who is inclined to envy them such pompous Appearances, to make a strict Enquiry into some other Circumstances which are not altogether so much exposed to the publick View. He will by this Means discover that these great Machines are informed, turned and directed by the most minute Springs and Movements; that in many Instances, a menial Servant has the Management of their highest Concerns, and disposes of their Actions as he in his great Wisdom shall judge most convenient for them.
As my Cousin
Humphrey
and my self were taking a Walk in the
Park
the other Day, a Person of Note passed by us with an Air of Insolence and Contempt, attended by a very magnificent Equipage. He, with his usual Freedom, taking me aside, desired me to observe that fine Thing, and to give my Opinion of him. Observing me a little reserved upon the Matter,
"
Isaac
(says he) with some Indignation, You are the greatest Coward in the World: Had I put the same Question to you upon Fifty others of Five hundred Times the Worth of inferior Rank, you would have made no Scruple of speaking your Sentiments. I will tell you then; That Gentleman you see there, is one Way or other in Subjection to every one of those Fellows that dangle after him. I happen (continued he) to be well acquainted in his Family, in which there is a Chain of Interests carried on after the following Manner: The Steward, who is an old Servant, and has cheated his Master Time out of Mind, has the entire Government of him. The Housekeeper has a Hank, as they call it, over the Steward, and makes singular Use of him in all impertinent Affairs. The Page has no less Interest in the Housekeeper, at the same Time that he is himself in Love with the Chambermaid.
Rose,
for that is her Name, professes a Passion for
T
the Footman, who is deeply smitten with dirty
Moll
the Kitchen Wench. The latter of these has in Conclusion a great Sway in whatever Cases she thinks fit to exert her Interest, which, if she were made sensible of it, would undoubtedly afford her no small Comfort under the constant Hurry and Fatigue of her painful Occupation.'
Having but little Knowledge of great Families, I was not before aware that this Scheme of Government was received amongst them; but in the Compass of my own Acquaintance I have seldom seen it otherwise. Old Major
Matchlock,
I remember, was a very blustering Fellow over a Bottle, and withal made a good terrible Figure at the Head of a Company; but within his own Doors he behaved himself with great Pusillanimity, and paid the utmost Subjection to an ancient Maid, whom in less than Forty Years he had raised from raking in a Heap of Cinders, to the Superintendancy over all his domestick Affairs. I am not in my own Nature much addicted to Fear, yet I cannot but confess that I stand in Awe of my old Servant
Mary.
She happens to be of a mild Disposition, which makes her Authority fit the more easy upon me; but if it were otherwise, I do not presume that I should have Courage enough to make Head against her. As she has few other Favourites or Companions than my Dog and tabby Cat, there is no Danger of her leading me into any Absurdities on their Behalf.
I am very much obliged to the Person who sends me the following Letter, and shall comply with the Instances made therein to the utmost of my Power.
From the West,
April 13.
SIR,
AT this Distance from other Entertainments, I am not a little beholden to that which your Paper affords me; insomuch that I drink your Health in a Bumper of Manufacture every Day of my Life, and next in Order to those of very great Consequence to the Nation. Two or Three of my Children who are learning to read have their Lessons set in your
Tatler,
though I had some Difficulty to carry that Point from their Governante, who stickled hard for the
Primmer.
I have had Two or Three Quarrels with my Wife's Woman for putting Thread in your Paper, and had like to have turned away my Butler for setting up Candles in it. In a Word, Sir, I pay all imaginable Respect to your Works, and would be glad to have Opportunity of shewing it to your Person. I flatter my self therefore, that you will give me Leave, after these Professions of my Esteem and Veneration for you, to make a Request in Behalf of my self and many other your Admirers in these Parts. We find our selves every Post-Night involved in such a Multiplicity of News-Papers, that we know not which to consult first, nor at last which of them to give any Credit to. The
Tatler
was formerly wont to determine our Choice in this Matter, by giving us a Summary of the most material Occurrences in a clear and intelligible Style, which, except in the
Gazette,
is now not to be had for Love nor Money. It is therefore our humble Petition, that you would renew this so laudable a Practice, which, if you please to comply with, I venture to assure you in the Name of the whole Neighbourhood, that we will at our next Meeting hold a Day of Thanksgiving on that Account, and conclude the Evening with a Bonfire of
Dawks
's,
Dyer
's, and
Post-Boys.
I am,
SIR,
(With the truest Respect) Your most Obliged, And most Obedient, Humble Servant,
J. E.
St. James's Coffee-house,
April 18.
Last Night Captain,
Powel
came Express from the Lord
Raby,
with an Account, That the Emperor died on the 17th,
N. S.
of the Small-Pox. On the 16th he was in so fair a Way of Recovery, that they judged him to be out of Danger; whereupon Prince
Eugene
set out for the
Hague,
and was got two Days Journey on this Side of
Vienna,
before the News, which was dispatched the next Day, could overtake him.
The TATLER. [No 40.
Nec Vox Hominem sonat.
Virg.
From
Thursd. April
19. to
Saturd. April
21. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 20.
THere is nothing more shocking to a generous Mind, than to see his Labours rendered vain and fruitless. I once flattered my self with the happy Effects of my Censorship, and thought the Influence of
Isaac Bickerstaff
had so generally obtain'd through the United Kingdoms of
Great Britain,
that there was nothing remaining but the Fruits and Glory of the Conquest. But such is the Misfortune of a publick Character! I have no sooner routed and disarmed the Enemy in one Quarter of my Dominions, exposed the Vice and Folly of Mankind in one Particular, but I find my self engaged in a fresh Dispute; as if my Authority was not so universally received as I imagin'd, as if the People of this Island thought me only
de Facto,
and not
de Jure,
Censor. By my Age and Experience I have hitherto put a Stop to the growing Evil: But there is a Race of Creatures sprung up (by their Frame and Complexion resembling Men) which are as far above my Understanding, as they are real Objects of my Concern. It grieves me to see the Bull, the Bear, the Lion, stalking in a humane Form. I am in Pain to find something so like my self sending forth nothing but
Brutal
Accents, as if all Joy and Grief consisted in the Quantity of Sound, and there was no Way to express the Dictates and Sentiments of Nature but by being tumultuous. These Men, if I may be allowed to call them so, seem weary of being at the Fag-End of the Rational Species, and think they shall make tolerable good Figures under another Character. I will refer the Examination of this Particular to another Paper, and insert the Letter which gave Occasion to the Reflection.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
SIR,
AMong the many Benefits which Mankind has received from your Lucubrations, that of improving and polishing our Conversation has been none of the least. Your distinguishing the different Characters of Men by the Instruments of Harmony, has given most an Inclination to be musical; each preparing and hoping to appear in a better Class. This innocent Ambition has had an Effect even on the lowest Kind, and I have known some Drums, despairing of ever getting a finer Note, content to be silent; a great Negative Blessing to those unhappy Gentlemen who were sometimes condemned to be Part of their Audience! But, Sir, there is Need of a farther Reformation, there are some People who have formed to themselves a Sound that comes under no Denomination you have yet imparted to the World; indeed there are not many of this Sect, nor should I take any Notice of them, but that I have very lately observed they begin to get Converts. These noisy Men have their Fits come upon them very constantly, and with very little Intermission, yet they can be sometimes articulate; but then I don't observe those Tokens of Mirth which they show at the End of the Paroxism. I have seen one of them jump out of his Chair, and suddenly getting his Legs from the Ground five or six Times, make such a Noise as Nature gave us not Ears to receive, which has ended in about Seven Minutes in a strong loud Laugh, accompanied with the rest of the Sect, if there be any present, (for the Fit often takes 'em among Strangers) who join in the Chorus. I have seen your great Masters of Noise, Foxhunters, Bombardiers, Gunners of all Kinds, Sailers, who are Judges of Storms, amazed at their prodigious Vociferation. I should take them to be something Enthusiastical, but there is no Shew of Religion among them. The
Hottentotts,
(a
Free People
) as the
Dutch
Travellers tell us, come near them in Sound, but with less Impetuosity. From their Agitation they may pass for
French
Prophets, but I think they deserve neither
Toleration
nor
Indulgence.
There have been Arguments us'd by Men of Wit, and God knows of Probity, to support all the Follies that have appeared in the World. Mr.
Herbert, an old solemn Bard of our own,
a Defender of Joking to the last Extent, has observed,
That every Thing is big with Jest, and has Wit in it, if you can find it out.
I neither doubt your Power Physically, Astrologically, or Mathematically; yet if you can reduce these Sounds into any Compass, if you can form any Figure to express something inarticulate, though the Disquisition may not entertain the Multitude, do the fair Thing, and forgive a Friend, who begs of you even to make our Monsters agreeable.
Dear
Isaac,
Yours,
&c.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Dr.
Proteus
of
Wadham-College
has, with the greatest Humanity, owned the Mistake he made upon
Aesculapius
's
Roast.
He was something perplexed and pleased to find himself a Cylinder after the warm Season, when he had so long been a Globe. He owns the Doctor's ambulatory Jack, Spit, Dripping-Pan, and is ready to subscribe to any Satisfaction that
Aesculapius
shall demand in
Latin
or
English.
N. B.
It is thought they will not pretend to commune in
Greek.
The TATLER. [No 41.
Regum aequabat Opes Animo.
Hor.
From
Saturd. April
21. to
Tuesd. April
24. 1711.
From my own Apartment,
April 23.
I AM oblig'd to visit my old Friend
Hortensius
every
April,
when his
Auricula
's are in Blossom. He tells me, he should be as much disappointed if his Friends did not come and see him while his Garden is in its Pride, as a fine Lady would be on her Day, if no Body came to admire how well she was lighted up.
I went down on
Monday
last to his House. It was almost dark when I arrived, and I found my Friend watering his Pots with his own Hand, and covering the choicest of them with Glasses, lest the Inclemency of one Frosty Night, in so uncertain a Climate as ours is, should shorten the Duration of a Pleasure which is but too Transitory even in its longest Continuance. He bid me welcome to his Hermitage, and conducted me with
Aude, Hospes, contemnere Opes,
to an elegant little Supper, a good Part of which was the Product of his Garden. After the Cloth was taken away,
'Mr.
Bickerstaff,
said he, I fancy you look with a good deal of Contempt upon our Country Amusements: Is it not very odd to find me doing the same Thing to Night, that I did Forty Years ago? Not at all, replied I, I don't think Individuals either grow better or worse after One and Twenty; and I am no more surprized to find you diverted with an agreeable innocent Employment Forty Years together, than I should be Forty Years hence (if it were possible I could live so long) to find those who are now young Fops to be grown old ones, or those that are young Knaves to be grown more experienc'd: For since People don't grow weary of their Faults, I see no Reason why they should grow weary of their Pleasures, at least of such Pleasures as don't grow weary of them. Ah! dear
Isaac,
said my Friend, there's the Point, to find out some Entertainment that will not find out that we grow old, and such a one I believe I have made Choice of. By that Means I converse daily with the g
wdiest Part of the Creation; for since there is no Body here to tell it again to the Toasts, I must own to you, that I think Nature has been no where so lavish of her Beauties, as amongst the Birds and Flowers. Harmonious Voices, sweet Breaths, fine Complexions, blooming Youth, and then for Constancy, (one of my poor Turtles is dying of a Widowhood) Where will you match me these in the rest of the World? You durst not talk at that Rate, reply'd I, nor I hear you, but at the Age of Seventy, though it is natural for every one to give as much Dignity as he can to whatever he is fond of. Dignity! interrupted
Hortensius
a little warmly, we want no Dignity, or at least we need not strain a Point for it. Pray, Friend
Isaac,
when Man was made little lower than the Angels, what was he? A Prince, a General, or a Great Minister? Neither. He was a Gardiner. Pray what is it that distinguishes Man from Beasts? Why all Philosophers say, Reason. Philosophers are Puppies; if Man were distinguished from the rest of the Creation by Reason, would he not be distinguish'd by the noblest Operation of Reason; the cultivating a virtuous Mind? But how is that? Ask any of these Philosophers for Examples of Cruelty, Lust, of Avarice, of Disobedience to Parents, of Rapine, of Ambition, of Treachery, of Cowardice, of any Vice they shall bring you Instances of all these from Kings, Queens, Generals, Popes, and even Philosophers themselves: But talk to them of Fidelity, they quote you the Dog; of Piety to Parents, the Stork; of Industry, the Ant and the Bee; of Meekness, the Lamb; of Courage, the Lion; and of Constancy, there my poor Turtle comes in again. Oh! Reason is a dainty Thing; I love that noble Distinction mightily: 'Tis almost as good as Risibility. Hold, dear
Hortensius,
said I, pray let us be distinguished some Way or other, or let us go naked as they do, and save Taylors Bills; or rather let us get Hair and Feathers on our Skins, for I doubt I should not like to walk about pull'd neither."
He smiled upon me, and went on,
"I design to distinguish for you too: The true Distinction between Man and Beast, and which
soli Homini convenit
is Gardening.
Homo est Animal Horticolum:
Upon that Condition you may differ from Beasts as much as you please, and be as distinct a Species as you can. But if you design to take the Advantage of this Proposal, you must begin by going to Bed early, that we may be up to Morrow to enjoy the Sweets of the Morning, and therefore I'll wait on you to your Chamber."
The next Morning was so like one in a Romance, that if it would not make this Paper too long, I could be content to describe it: About Seven a Clock my Friend came into my Chamber, and told me I was going to be very Happy as soon as I had drank my Chocolate, for every Thing conspired to make our Walk so pleasant, that, what with the Perfume of the Flowers, and the Harmony of the Birds, he questioned whether I would regret either the Smoak or the Noises of
London.
There were Two Parterres on either Side of the House, which were separated by a neat Espalier from the rest of the Garden. These were destined for the Reception of the Flowers of Quality, such as
Auricula's, Tulips, Anemonies, Ranunculus's,
and
Carnations,
who lived here removed from the Commerce of the People of Flowers which inhabit the Remainder of this vegetable Kingdom. My Friend was pleased to see me surprized with the Beauties of his Benches of
Auricula's.
He made me take particular Notice of Number I. which he told me was honoured with the Name of a Great Princess, and the rest of the Confederacy stood in their proper Places after her. The next Series my Friend enlarged more upon, finding I begun to tast the Entertainment, and made me remark a Flower which was a little overblown; but he told me it had been wonderfully fine in its Time, and whispered me in the Ear the Lady's Name it went by:
"And what I value it for exceedingly, said he, is, That I have raised those Four Seedlings which stand next her from this Flower. There was a Fifth, but I could not preserve it: If we had not such Losses, we should be too happy."
In short, he went on with above Fifty fine Ladies one after another, and I believe would never have given off if I had not interrupted him, by asking him how his Flowers came to be all of a Party, and saying that I did not think to have seen that Matter carried so far.
"Why, said he, I don't know how that comes about, but we endeavour to fit our Flowers to our Faces and Characters, and this is done in a Manner by Election: But no Body need be without their Flower, for the
Daffodil
and
Piony
Kind stand empty for any Ladies that please to take them; and as any new ones come out amongst our better Flowers, if they will stand Candidates for them, I shall be very impartial. But we can't do so well by the Generals; they must have a Campagne in their Bellies, and can't be provided for till next Spring, and then they'll stand as fair as others."
We took our Walk on through the rest of the Garden, at the lower End of which there was a little Trout Stream, with Benches by the Side of it. Here we sate down, and
Hortensius
asked me if I was not tired with such a sauntering Country Life. I assured him no, and wished I had it in my Power to invite him to such another Place.
"Why really my Friend, said he, I passed a good Part of my Time in what the World calls Pursuit of Pleasure and Honour, and have found at last, that all those Things are nothing more than what I have in this little Brook,
Noise and Motion.'
The TATLER. [No 42.
Tua Res agitur Paries cum proximus ardet.
From
Tuesd. April
24. to
Thursd. April
26. 1711.
From my own Apartment in Channel-Row,
April 25.
I WENT Two or Three Nights ago to
Brown
's Coffee-house to smoak a Pipe, and talk of the Affairs of
Germany,
with my old Friend Mr.
Solomon Million.
As we were discoursing of Funds and Politicks, I observed a tall genteel Man come in, who made a very respectful Bow to
Million,
and stood at a Distance, but looked as if he had something to say to him. I made him take Notice of it. He tweer'd at him a little, and said,
"Friend, would you speak with me? Fray what's your Business?"
He approached and whispered him, and then
Million
cry'd,
"Why ay, and so I did; but we could not carry it for you: And so look'ee you must be contented. You lost it in good Company, that I must needs say; but it is not always'—
Here he coughed, and I, who had not recollected the Gentleman till then, perceived it was
Don Diego.
He had a Paper in his Hand, which he delivered
Million,
who looking upon it, shook his Head, and said,
"This is not in our Way; but my worthy Friend Muster
Bickerstaff
(
may be allowed to name him on this Occasion) may do you a Kindness, if so be he'll recommend it to the World, which I hope he will for my Sake."
The Paper was as follows.
To all Lovers and others within the Cities of
London
and
Westminster,
and the Liberties thereof.
WHereas there have been great Complaints at all Times of the Inconstancies, Indiscretions, Inabilities, and Exorbitances of the several Lovers within the Bills of Mortality, and whereas the same do still continue, notwithstanding the several Statutes in those Cases had, made and provided, so that often those who have gone to Bed in a substantial, happy and reputable Condition, have perhaps the next Morning, by some sudden unforeseen Accident, found themselves stripped of all that was near and dear to them, their Pleasure and Reputation: For the preventing of which fatal Misfortunes for the future, it is humbly proposed, That as
Office of Insurance for Lovers
be erected, after the Manner of the
Amicable Society;
where all Persons subscribing the Policies, (which will be ready by the First of
May
next, at which Time the Books will likewise be opened at the Sign of the
United Hearts
in St.
Martin's-Lane
) may be entitled to the following Advantages:
I. Any Lover may be insured
ad Val
rem
for any Term of Years, or for Life, if required, for a reasonable
Praemium,
to be settled by the Majority of the Subscribers at their First General Court, which is to be held as soon as One hundred thousand of either Sex have entered themselves of this Society, which, it is humbly presumed, may be in less than Twenty four Hours after the Books are opened.
II. After such Subscription, and the Name entered in the Company's Books, the Persons who take a Policy, will be insured by the Sum of
That their Lover shall neither deceive, forsake, nor betray them; and in case of Decay in Affection, which 'tis hoped will seldom happen, such Losses shall be made good by all the Members of this Society, who, upon due Notice, are to pay in their Quota to any such Claim within Eight Days at farthest.
III. The Society will stand to all Repairs of the Persons subscribing they having in Pay the best Artists of all Kinds for that Purpose, some of whom have been bred up at the Court of
France,
and procured the most valuable Cosmeticks there at a vast Expence; by which Means they will be able at a Minute's Warning, and in Two Hours Time, to scaffold up and new Point any Lady that apprehends falling to sudden Decay, and make her tenantable without Loss of Time, or Hindrance of Business.
IV. Young Men of Quality, and Officers of the Army, must be insured at pretty high Rates, they being liable to Bragging and Inconstancy; but Citizens. Seamen, and Country Gentlemen, will come at little or nothing.
V. The Pleasures and Profits of this Society to be equally divided betwixt the Adventurers.
VI. Any married Woman shall in this Office be deemed and taken as a Femme Sole, and may subscribe and enjoy to her own Use and Behoof such Policy or Policies, notwithstanding her Coverture; and in case of any Trouble from her Husband, or if any Divorce should be attempted, the whole Society are obliged to use their Interest against it, either in the Commons, or otherwise.
VII. Any Adventurers in this Society, may by mutual Agreement, with the Consent of the Governor and Governess, and the Majority of the Four and twenty Directors, transfer their Right and Title in any Policy to any other Member of this Society.
VIII. All Persons, at their Admission, to take an Oath to stand by and mutually assist each other against all malicious and censorious Tongues, who are always raising ill Reports, and misconstruing the most innocent Looks, to the great Disquiet of civil Families.
IX. There are to be Sworn-Appraisers of both Sexes, who are to take a Survey, and certify upon Oath, the true Values of the Persons subscribing.
Though I am far from taking this for a perfect Scheme, yet I think it does not deserve to be rejected at the first Reading; for perhaps something may be added in a Committee to make it of great Use.
I do therefore refer it to a Committee of the whole Town, who are to examine the Allegations, and report their Opinion; for I cannot but think that if something of this Kind could be done, it would be of universal Advantage, and might go a great Way towards extinguishing those Heats and Animosities which are amongst us, and put an affectual Stop to those wicked Emissaries that are continually busied in stirring up Jealousies and evil Reports among Her Majesty's loving Subjects.
The TATLER. [No 43
— Prisca redit Venus.
Hor.
From
Thursd. April
26. to
Saturd. April
28. 1711.
From my own Apartment in Channel-Row,
April 27.
ONE great Inducement to me in removing to this End of the Town, was for the Benefit of the Air in St.
James
's
Park,
where I usually take one Turn in the Morning, and
it be any Thing like Weather, another as soon as my Pipe is done after Dinner. In my Walk the other Day I met with so odd an Adventure, that I can't help being particular in the Relation of it; especially since, in Regard to Posterity, it may serve to clear up one of the most important Passages of my Life. Just by the
Cock-Pit,
at the
Privy-Garden
Door, there step'd up gently to me an ancientish Woman, in a little black Hood, a Whisk Band, and a Crape Gown, and in a soft low Voice calls to me, "
Sir.
I could never think it Charity to relieve your Street-Beggars: What little I do in that Kind, is chiefly to Charity-Schools, and decayed Housekeepers. So on I walk'd, and she after me.
'But, Sir, says she again with a respectful Whisper, I am a Gentlewoman. Gentle or Simple, said I, that's nothing to me; Prithee, Woman, be gone about thy Business: This is not a Place for you."
When she had got me to answer her, she proceeds,
"Sir, you look like a Gentleman; and my Case is really such, that if you knew but Half—I don't desire to know a Quarter,"
said I. But the Woman was so very civil, and withal so very importunate, that I could not help turning about to her; and with that she pulls Two or Three dirty torn Papers out of her Stays, and offers them me to read.
"Pray Mistress, said I, what is it you would have of me? This is not a Place to read Papers in: But my Name is so, I live in such a Place, and if you think it worth your while to come to me when I have more Leisure, I'll hear what you have to say.'
I observed she changed Colour upon hearing my Name, and coming up closer to me, told me,
"Nothing but the greatest Necessity could have brought her to this: Her Education, it was well known, had been above any such Thing, till the Frowns of Fortune had reduced her to this Condition. Why it is a strange Thing, said I, Mistress, that you won't take an Answer. I tell you again that I have not for you, and let that suffice. Ah! dear Sir, said she, there was a Time when one of your Name would have given me a kinder Answer."
This brought a Thousand confused Imaginations into my Head, and I felt something awakening within me that I could not account for. I stole a Look over my Shoulder, and saw her wiping a Pair of Eyes, that I thought I should not be a Stranger to, with a greasy Glove, and the Lappet of her Hood.
'I have no small Money about me, said I, but I'm just at Home, and made what Haste I could to my House."
As I was going into my Parlour, I heard my Maid disputing the Door with her.
"
Mary,
said I, let the Gentlewoman come in."
As soon as we were alone,
fix'd my Eye upon her, and ask'd her,
"Pray what may your Name be? Ah! Mr.
Bickerstaff,
she replied, Is it possible you should have forgot me? But indeed the Troubles I have gone thro' since you and I danced together at the Mayor's Feast at
Litchfield,
would have altered a better Face than I could ever pretend to. Whatever Changes Time and Trouble may have made in you, said I, I'm sure it has not made so much in me, but that I am mightily concerned to know what has happened to you, since I am now assured you can be no other than Mrs.
Olivia Darkin,
for whom once I pass'd so many uneasy Minutes. Well, Mr.
Bickerstaff,
I must own—But pray sit down, said I—And
Mary,
D'ye hear? Bring me a Pint of that Sack in the Corner, and bake a Toast. Well, pray go on. Why truly, Sir, as I was saying, I did perceive you had a Kindness for me; but alas! What could you expect of a giddyheaded young Thing as I was in those Days? For you must know, Sir, that Mr.
Mac-Carrot,
that you saw at our House, had engaged my Affections before I came from the Boarding-School; but I am sure I have lived to repent it every Vein of my Heart that ever I cross'd the Seas with him. In short, Sir, we were no sooner married, but he carried me over with him to the County of
Kerry,
where he had Relations who were well enough to pass, and what with their Assistance, and that little we had of our own, we made a pretty good Shift for some Years, 'till the War breaking out in
Ireland,
my Husband was too zealous for the Popish Interest, and entered into the Service of the late K—
J—s.
I told him over and over what would come of it. He gave me no Answer, but that it was his Opinion, and he would stand and fall by it; and Child, said he, you are a Fool if you don't turn Catholick. Never talk on it, said I, I'll die a Thousand Deaths before I'll change my Religion, and so he never press'd me any more about it. But as I had foretold, so it happened, he was killed at the Siege of
Limerick,
and our House plundered; I may safely say they did not leave me the Value of this Rag to wind about my Finger."
And
en she burst out a Crying.
"Ha! said I, this is a melancholy Story indeed; come, here's to you, I'll promise you 'tis a Glass of good Sack: But pray did his Relations do nothing for you? Relations! Ah Lord! said she, they were his Relations, not mine; and when he went, all went with him: You must think, Sir, I went to 'em, but they looked as coldly upon me as if I came to take the Bread out of their Mouths. At last, they agreed among 'em to take one of my Girls off my Hands, and gave me Five Pounds to carry me over to
England.
But when I came there, I was never the near, for I had anger'd all my Friends in Marrying; and I dare say some of 'em were glad to see me in such Necessity. At last an Aunt of mine sent me Word I should be welcome to her in
Staffordshire,
where, being a Widow, and old and infirm, I was serviceable to her in the Nature of her House-keeper. It pleased God she died in about Two Years after, and left me in Money and Goods to the Value of Four hundred Pounds. Upon this I pluck'd up a good Heart again, and had several Offers made me from substantial Farmers of good Repute in the Neighbourhood; but it was a Sort of Life I did not care for, and having no Thoughts of altering my Condition, nothing would serve me but I must come up to Town here; and having a Stock of Linen, and other good Things that my Aunt left me, I hired a handsome House, and took Lodgers. Well, why this put you in a good Way again, said I, interrupting her. Yes indeed, Sir, said she, I had several Parliament-Men and other very good Gentlemen in my House, and lived as creditably as any Body in my Employ; so that in a few Years I thought I should be able to do very well for my Children. Pray what Children might you have, said I, besides the
Girl
you were mentioning in
Ireland.
I had a Son and Daughter, said she, and as hopeful they were, though I say it, as any Woman would wish to be Mother of. But there was a Gentleman in my House who belonged to the Army, a civil Man to my thinking, as ever came under any Body's Roof. I never heard an Oath come out of his Mouth, he paid me punctually every
Monday
Morning, and was so easy and contented, that I thought I could never do enough for him. It seems, as I found afterwards, he took a Liking to m
Betty;
and I believe there was no Love lo
for I observed the Girl would go mopin
about the House, and I would often s
to her, What's come to you, Child? Methin
you take no Pleasure in any Thing you do
She would make me no Answer; but on
Day, as we were alone, I put it Home
her, and then she up and told me th
whole Story, that she had been over-pe
suaded by the Captain, and was so far gon
that it was in vain to conceal it any long
Soon after she was delivered of a fine Bo
and as soon as she was up, Well, Mother, says she, I will not live here to be a Disgrace to you, I'll try my Fortune in the
Indies.
So I agreed with a
West-India
Captain of my Acquaintance, since the Girl had such a Mind to travel into foreign Parts; but the first News I had by the Return of the Ships was, that she died of the Distemper of the Country. Still I was in Hopes my Son
Joseph
would do well; but he was got in with an idle Gang, who would send for him at all Hours in the Night. I was fond of him, and sed him with Money till I was almost reduced again, in Hopes to reclaim him by fair Means: At other Times I would talk to him seriously, and tell him he had had another Sort of an Education: But nothing would do; I found I was but a Woman; he would give me the Hearing, and then away to his Comrades. But one Day above the rest, there was a great Noise of a Robbery and Murder that had been committed upon
Bagshot-Heath,
and my Son, among others, was taken up and carried to
Newgate.
Upon his Tryal, he confessed he was among them, and was found guilty; but he declared with his last Breath, he was not concerned in the Murder. I was with him every Day after his Condemnation. He told me all along he was willing to die; but I did what I could with Money and Friends, till I had nothing left, to get his Pardon; and a Gentleman who belonged to the Court, and had formerly been my Lodger, gave me Hopes to the last, and bid me fear nothing,
o that my Son should not suffer. To keep him in Heart, I told him we should get a Reprieve: But when he found he must go into the Cart, he fixed his Eyes stedfastly upon me, and only said, Mother, is it come to this? I repented afterwards that I had deluded my poor Child with vain Promises; for he relied so much upon them, that I am afraid he did not make so good an End as he should have done. It was a bad End indeed, said I, for an only Son; but Children, you know, are certain Troubles, and uncertain Comforts: However, what's past can't be recalled. I am sorry for your Misfortunes; but pray tell me, Do you want any little Assistance that I can give you? Sir, said she, I'll conceal nothing from you; I want for nothing: I have between Six and Seven Hundred Pounds by me, which I have pick'd up in this Way, and hope that will put me above Dependance for the rest of my Life."
I drank again to her to renew our old Acquaintance, and so we parted. She left me so full of Reflections upon the Escape I had had when I would have married her, that I could not sleep a Wink that Night.
The TATLER. [No 44.
Sunt quos curriculo Pulverem Olympicum
Collegisse juvat; Metaque fervidis
Evitata Rotis, Palmaque nobilis
Terrarum Dominos evehit ad Deos.
Hor.
From
Saturd. April
28. to
Tuesd. May
1. 1711.
From my own Apartment in Channel-Row,
April 30.
EVER since I have taken upon me the Office of Censor of
Great Britain,
it has been my principal Care to guard my self against all Manner of just Reproaches, which might depretiate those wholesome Maxims which I every Day distribute to the Publick, and to fence against all those Vices which render old Age contemptible. And 'tis wholly owing to this that I have never fallen into that common Weakness of finding Fault with the present only for an Excuse to cry up the last Age. I must own I have had a great Itch to do it, but as I weigh every Thing before I attempt doing it, I find upon mature Deliberation, that generally speaking the Age is virtuously inclined, and that what Faults it has proceed chiefly from excellent Principles, and might be made Virtues with a very little Trouble. For, in the first Place, I observe that Part of Mankind, where one would least expect it, to be wonderfully inclined to Oeconomy; I mean the Young and the Fair of Quality. No Frost, Snow, no
East Wind, can hinder a large Set of People from going to the Park in
February,
no Dust nor Heat in
June.
And this is come to such an intrepid Regularity, that those agreeable Creatures that would shriek at an hind Wheel in a deep Gutter, are not afraid, in their proper Sphere, of the Disorder and Danger of Seven Rings. But as the City does generally value it self upon out-doing t'other End of the Town in these Matters, so I have long observed, with infinite Satisfaction, a certain Coach, which I esteem particularly. It belongs to a worthy Trader in or near
Well-Close,
and no Disparagement to
Charles
's-
Wain,
it keeps its Course as regularly as any Fix'd Star of 'em all. The Family to which this wondrous Automaton belongs, goes to Dinner as soon as Morning Service is over, they set out in the Cool of the Noon, about Half an Hour after Twelve, and, according to the Rule of discreet Travellers, make the Coachman drive slowly at first, by which they have Two Advantages; one, that they see all the Company go to Church in the City, and the other, that their Horses have Time to empty themselves. At
Charing-Cross
they stop and give the Cattel a Mouthful of Hay, have a cool Tankard, or the like, and any of the Gentlewomen that have Occasion step out of the Coach. By the End of
Suffolk-street
they mend their Pace, and get into a tolerable Trot, which brings them so happily to the farthest Part of their Journey, and in such good Time, that they are there as soon as the best of 'em. I remember last Year I was over-against
Northumberland
House when this Caravan reposed there; they were Five of the Fair Sex, Three pretty fat ones, one very fat, and a lean one. They were all sure of the Thousand Pounds a Year in the Lottery, and almost fell out about their several Ways of Disposing of it. The fattest of them said,
"If it should please God to take away her Master, she would not change her Condition tho' she should get the Thousand Pounds a Year, but would lay it up to make her Children love her; but if they should prove undutiful, she could not tell how far she might be prevailed upon; but an't please God she'd never marry a Seaman again, she'd have no more Frights and Twitters at every puff of Wind."
The next in Size to her Ladiship said,
"Laud Mother, Why to be sure, Forsooth, you won't have it; you'll have enough without it. Child, said her Mother, Will you never leave off that ugly Trick? Can't you call a Body, Madam? I wou'd to God I had sent you to
Chelsey
instead of
Stepney,
but 'twas such a great Way off. Prithee, Sister, don't fright your self, says another, I shall have it mun; for I was adreamed, and so methought there came a fine Gentleman to me, in a Cinnamon-colour'd Coat and Gold Buttons, and a long Wig, and a Gold Chain about his Neck, and so he ax'd me to go with him to his Country-House at
Grinitch,
and methought he had my Lord Mayor's Bage and Tisdale, and the City Musick, and he said as how 'twas because I had a great Forti
. The Third said, she was sure she should have it, because she had a Mind to it; and if she got it, she'd come away immediately to that very Coffee-house yonder, and send for one of those young Officers out, and marry him immediately; and then, Madam, I'll come and wait upon you in my Glass Chariot, and pass my Time like a little Queen. Ah,
Mal!
said the old one, thou art a mad Girl; thou'dst think on't twice—Ay so I shall Forty Times, said she; till the Lottery is drawn, I shall do nothing but think on't: But Sister
Rachel
says nothing. Why, says the lean one, I'm satisfied none of you will have it, for 'tis come into my Head just now that I shall have it my self; and I'll take a House in
Devonshire-Square,
and get a Set to play all Day long at
Lue,
and never marry, but despise Mankind; though now I think on't, if any of you have a Girl to my Mind, perhaps I may breed her up, and when I die, leave her all I have, and then she may be married to a Lord: Look'ee there now."
It grieved me mightily to see the Coach drive away at this Period, and I could not but make this Reflection: How Five People could be sanguine enough to expect the great Lot, which was One hundred and fifty thousand to One whether either of them had it, and of the many Thousand Owners of Coaches in and about this great City, not one of them was afraid of having their Necks broke at the
Park,
where the Odds are not above Two hundred at most; nay, Folks are glad to borrow a Chance for being crippled. I concluded with my self, that those who come from the wary Part of the Town, had perhaps had the Precaution to insure in
Exchange-Alley,
without which I thought it impossible Ladies should venture to travel so far to run such Dangers; for we may perceive by the Number of Offices now in Town, that it is no longer in Fashion to ride Post to Sieges: But the Mystery was soon explained as to these
Well-Close
Pilgrims; for that very Evening my honest Friend
Faber
would needs take me from St.
James
's
Park
with him to eat a cold Chicken and Sallad, and drink a Flask of
Flurrence,
as he calls it; and as we were looking out at Window in the
Pall-Mall,
and seeing the Coaches going to the
Park,
I saw my Lady and her Daughters return. I had an Inclination to smile at first; but upon Reflection, I could not but admire the Sagacity of those People, who (having a great Way to go) come out of the
Park
when others are going in, for by that Means they see all the Company, and avoid all the Danger.
The TATLER. [No 45.
Potanda ferens Infantibus Ubera magnis.
Juv.
From
Tuesd. May
1. to
Thursd. May
3. 1711.
From my own Apartment in Channel-Row,
May 2.
I Cannot without Admiration behold the forward Pretensions of the Youth of this Age, wherein we daily find Boys exerting the very first Operations of their Minds in the most abstruse Parts of Learning; so that one would th nk the Souls of their Great Grandfathers had transmigrated into them. This praecocious Wit, as it is very unbecoming in the Presence of a Man of my Years, so is it likewise very ominous to the Persons who are possessed with it; for they are generally short-liv'd, and give Occasion to their Mothers to say, The poor Child had too much Sense to live long. It is therefore my Opinion, That this great Vice takes its Beginning entirely from taking Children too soon f om the Breast, and admitting them so early to the Use of a luxurious Variety in their Food, which forces an Understanding before its due Time. I have therefore, from a long Observation amongst young Fellows, as I find them in their Conversation, and according to the Subjects which they handle, been able to tell the very Day when the Nurse applied the bitter Drug to the Nipple, to give them an Aversion to Sucking. There was a Law among that wise People the
Romans,
That no Man should kill above Thirty Asses at a Time for a Banquet; and the Reason was, that they being a Creature then esteemed a great Dainty, and a vast Consumption of them, there was found at length a great Defect of their Milk for the Education of the Offspring of the Commonwealth, to the unspeakable Pain and Labour of the good Women, who were otherwise obliged to suckle their Children till they should be fit to carry Arms in Defence of their Country. I have therefore, out of a due Respect to such an excellent Example, and to prevent the Inconveniencies of these too early Essays in Things of sublime Science, ordered the ingenious Mr.
Charles Bubbleboy
to get made for the Use of the Publick, from Time to Time, a sufficient Number of Sucking-Bottles, which all young Fellows under the Age of Twenty are to hang with a Chain about their Necks. And I likewise ordain, That when any Person under the Age above written shall presume to launch out of his Depth in Theoretical Learning, it shall be in the Power of any By-stander to apply the Bottle to his Mouth, and make him suck.
I hope by this Simplicity of Diet in some reasonable Time so far to reform the Manners of Youth in Conversation, that no one under the Age aforementioned shall presume to exceed the Limits of Grammatical Learning in Discourse; and likewise to augment the Strength and Stature of my Countrymen, a
well as their Understandings.
It has ever been the Custom of our Family to bring up their Children without endeavouring to improve their Minds till their Bodies were grown to a full Maturity, and we were suffered as it were to lie fallow without any Cultivation, till the Soil was rich enough to give a full Vigour and Extension to the Seed that should be sown in it. For this Reason I was looked upon as a meer Idiot all the Time of my Childhood, and lived in a State of Admiration to an Age wherein others are wont to exert egregious Signs of Wisdom. I remember very well, that I sucked my Mother till I was able to carry my Cradle on my Back, and could not speak a Word till I was Ten Years old, being a perfect
Pythagorean
by Nature, and always more inclinable to hear than talk, till I grew so full of Conceptions, that at last I was obliged to give Vent by Writing, as my Thoughts oppress'd me, the Delivery of which hath had that wonderful Effect as to make me arrive at the Dignity of being Censor of
Great Britain.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
In Consideration that my Sucking-Bottles are to be of General Use, and adapted to the various Fancy of Youth; as to the ornamental Part, I have given my Friend
Charles
full Liberty to indulge every one in their Humour as to the Materials which they shall be made of, provided they held full Quarts each; and he has promis'd me on his Word and Honour, that he will be contented with a living Profit, out of an entire Respect to the Publick Good.
Arthur Rattle
and
Jack Feather,
(Two young Heroes just entered into a Course of Town-Gallantry) will attend as usual, Three Times a Week, at
Sadlers-Wells,
to perform the Parts of compleat Rakes, just after the Cobler is acted. They also shew the best Method to make quick Dispatch of the Fortunes both of an elder Brother deceased, and of an Infant under Guardianship; the one soon after, the other before, he be in Possession; and that without the tedious Way of doing it reputably.
N. B.
They hope speedily to be qualified for Master Actors in the said Comical Society, having already learned, and performed (in publick) the Cobler's Song, with great Applause.
The TATLER. [No 46.
Dii Majorum Umbris tenuem, & sine Ponde
Terra
Spirantesque Crocos, & in Urna perpetuum Ver,
Qui Praeceptorem Sancti voluere Parentis
Esse Loco. —
Juvenal.
From
Thursday May
3. to
Saturday May
5. 1711.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
May 4.
MY Curiosity led me the other Day to be present at the Election at
Westminster
School, where I met with an Entertainment of Juvenile Exercises suitable to my Expectation, and observed with great Satisfaction those pretty Velitations of Wit, which may be called the politer Parts of Grammatical Learning, and are the promising Preludes of future Perfections in the sublime Sciences. Those little Epigrammatical Flowers, in which you behold Poetry in her Spring, very various in her Array of Colours, but not daring yet to shoot high from the Earth, which were then offered up as Fi
Fruits to the Great
Harlaeus,
as they shew their own Inability of soaring high enough, yet they do in some Measure point at that immense Heighth of Praise, which should be equal to the Subject commended, and which ought to be the particular Province of an Epick Poet.
When I first entered the School, I was struck with a becoming Awe and Veneration to so sacred a Place, and the Dignity of the Person presiding in it, not without a due Regard to the
Fasces,
which are the Symbol of his Authority. I could not then forbear taking the Person and Office of a Schoolmaster into a nearer Consideration, and to propose him to my Mind in the Abstract, with a View of what he teaches.
A Schoolmaster is a compleat Treasury of chosen Words from Classick Authors, the very Composition of whose Body does not seem to owe it self so much to the Four Physicical Elements, as to the Four and twenty Letters of the Alphabet; and yet with so little Confusion in his Contexture, that he shall be able, as it were, to unravel his whole Substance into Idioms, Proper Diction, Golden Sentences, Verses, Themes, and Declamations. You would think the Oeconomy of his House was directed entirely according to the Three Special Rules, and that the Book of Tenses served for a Clock to it. His proper Business is to teach Grammar, which he distributes as sound Aliment to his Scholars, giving every one such a Portion for a Meal, and with that Impartiality, that no one complains of having too little.
Whilst I was amusing my self with these Thoughts, which to some may seem too ludicrous on so grave a Subject, (though I profess
t is far from my Intention to lessen the Idea of
o excellent a Function) I was diverted from
urther prosecuting the Character, by being obliged to take Notice of Three or Four spr
young Fellows, that walked about the Scho
and seemed to affect an Air of Thoughtlesne
They twirled round their Gloves with great
difference, looked serene, wore Bob-Wigs, cle
Sleeves, and their Coats were generally abo
six Inches too short, and seemed not at all
give Attention to the excellent Things th
were spoke. These I found to be young S
dents lately returned from
Oxford,
who wou
not condescend to be pleased with such Trifl
exerting at the same Time several Lines
their Faces to signify a superior Excellence
versifying, and looking down with a Sort
Pity on those that admired the present Perf
mances.
Interspersed here and there in several Co
ners of the School, you might have seen so
Fellows of the same Stamp, but something a
cienter Date, with a very profound Look, b
ting their Thumbs, and scratching their Head
Others with their Faces lifted up horizontal
to the Sieling; and here and there a Man th
required only, for the Assistance of his Inve
tion, a Bit of Packthread, or a Pin to play wit
between his Fingers.
These Fellows, I found, were endeavourin
to revive their Muse long since extinct, and d
sirous of being catch'd in a Posture of inten
ing something for the Use of the young Ca
didates. These Rogues I could not bear wit
for that I feared they might defraud the youn
Gentlemen of their due Praise, by a false Op
nion that might be conceived of their Service
whereas it is very natural to think, that Exe
cises of this Nature are proper only to Youth
who by a peculiar Heat and Vivacity are re
der'd capable of that Quickness of Apprehension which is necessary to produce those extemporaneous and amazing Flights of Fancy.
I left the School with some Indignation, and came down into the Cloysters, where I surprized the Great (tho' unfriendly to the Muses)
Johannes Kellaeus,
just descended from the Room where the Company had dined, stuffing into his Pockets the Leg of a Lobster, the Carcass of a Green Goose, and a great Lump of Pudding.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Ordered,
That the abovesaid
Johannes Kellaeus,
as a Punishment to be inflicted on him for his said Contempt of the
Muses,
be forthwith required to suck again for a Twelvemonth, and that
Charles Bubbleboy
do with all Speed provide him a Sucking-Bottle that shall hold Two Quarts, void of all Ornaments.
The TATLER. [No 47.
Sic Canibus Catulos similes. —
Virg.
From
Saturday May
5. to
Tuesday May
8. 1711.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
May 7.
WHEN I was last at
Oxford
about Seven or Eight and twenty Years ago, I had struck up a great Friendship with Two very brisk Sportsmen, Fellows of
All-Souls
College,
Charles Oppian
and
Gratius Faliscus.
They each of them kept their Brace of Geldings. We used to hunt Three Times a Week with Dr.
Hammond
's Hounds, and generally passed the Evenings together. We kept a Correspondence very regularly for some Months after I left the University, but by little and little it dwindled away, and I thought they had been both dead, till upon publishing my Papers our Acquaintance revived again, and they often send me a Hare or a Pike to put me in Mind
f the happy Moments we formerly enjoyed at
l. Harding
's. This which follows came with
Present, and may serve as a Specimen to
hew the World what an odd Way of Think
ng a Man of very good Sense may contract,
ho has no Commerce with any Thing but
is Books, and his own Imagination.
To
Isaac Bickerstaff
Esq
Oxford,
April 30.
from the University Library.
SIR,
YOU were pleased some Time since to make several Parts of Mankind the Instruments of much Mirth to the Town, and to debase humane Nature so low, as to inclose several Persons in Viols and Harpsicords, for no other End but to play upon them. I would be glad one Part of the World could be diverted without the other's paying the Expence of it, and I have such a general Good-Will to every Thing that has Life, that I cannot see any of my Fellow Creatures abused without a very sensible Concern. The ill Usage of Dogs (notwithstanding their Fidelity, which ought to have gained them the Esteem of all honest Men) is so notorious, that 'tis become a Proverb; and I have long had a Design of vindicating these Animals in a regular Treatise, in which I would oppose them to several Ranks of Men, and impartially examine the Merits on both Sides, and decide according to Justice: But as my Business at present will not permit me to enter into so large a Field as that Disquisition, I have sent you up some Heads, which I would be obliged to you if yo
would be pleased to recommend them
the learned World, in order to stir up som
abler Pen to prosecute and finish this de
rable Work.
I observe first, That
Bear-Dogs
are a stay'
Sort of grave dull Animals, and I fancy no
much inferior to some Country Justices.
Bull-Dogs,
though they have neither Fea
nor Wit, yet being apt to fall upon any Thing that's tied to a Stake, and to make their Teeth meet when they have any, might be usefully employed as Executioners of Justice against publick Mismanagers.
French Spaniels,
who generally profess the Doctrine of Passive Obedience, would make as good Courtiers as Setters; for they will lie still while a Net is drawn over them, though they are caught themselves in it, and will not stir, in Hopes of having a dead Bird flung to them to mumble.
There are many Curs of all Denominations, that allow Resistance in the extreamest Necessity: These are called Mad Dogs by the other Whelps, in hopes to get 'em knocked on the Head; but People don't rise upon them, notwithstanding the Outcry, because they do not take 'em to be Driv'lers.
Turnspits.
An industrious short-legged Race of Puppies, that run round in a Ring to get an honest Livelihood, are the Mechanicks; and by their Spinning support the Roastmeat-Manufacture.
Greyhounds,
that are good for nothing but to tumble Beds, lie by the Fire, or divert themselves, I take to be Dogs of Quality.
Fop-Dogs
are
Italian Greyhounds, Dutch Mastives,
and
Shocks.
These are the Beaux, Smarts, and Dappers.
Fox-Hounds
and
Beagles
are the Militia, who pursue their Enemies very eagerly, provided they run away from 'em.
Peasants. Vide
Four Dogs in
Drury-Lane
that ploughed an Acre of Ground, quoted by Dr.
King.
There are a progging, dexterous, insinuating Sort of Dogs, that are very prone to come over a Stick, and to do whatever they are bid, called
Danish
Dogs: These excel all the rest in Understanding, and if it were not for one Fault, would make admirable Ministers of State; but unfortunately, they are honest.
N. B.
As there is neither Immorality nor Money amongst these Animals, there are no Dogs of the Long Robe.
I would not have any of the several Professions I have spoke of take it ill that I have rank'd these Creatures with them, nor think it any Disparagement if I declare it to be my Opinion that I have done them a very great Honour; for there is a Dignity of Nature among Dogs which Men must not pretend t
And I appeal to you, Mr.
Bickerstaff,
and
every Body else, whether they have n
known some of all Professions that have pass'
for very Great Men, who in Reality were b
very
Sad Dogs.
I am,
Your most humble Servant,
Gratius Falisc
Your old Friend, honest
Oppian,
is sti
alive, and desires you to send him the Game Act as soon as 'tis printed. You should n
have called Sharpers, Dogs.
The TATLER. [No 48.
— Facies non omnibus una est,
Nec diversa tamen. —
Ovid.
From
Tuesday May
8. to
Thursday May
10. 1711.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
May 9.
WHen I was formerly an
Oxford
Scholar, I had the Honour of being Mace-bearer
o the Club of Ugly Faces for several Years together; and I remember it was of very great Use to me in those Times, for as I had never
ny Money in my Pocket to spend, so neither
ad I any Occasion for it, it being a standing Rule in the Club, always to run away without
aying the Reckoning; as it was also, that we
hould never come to the same House twice. I
emember several excellent Discourses had in
hat Society in Praise of Deformity: It was
enerally defin'd to be a sportive Deviation of
ature, when she exercised her Plastick Facul
y in the Formation of Man, to distinguish her
avourites from those of a common Concern. The Two general Divisions ran upon Redun
ancies and Defects, as they related to the par
cular Parts of a humane Body. Redundan
es comprehended Carbuncles, Hair-Lips, Wattles on the Nose, Coalition of Eyebrows, Elevations of Back and Breast,
&c.
Defe
were, Pigs Eyes, Tup Noses, short Necks,
vernous Cheeks, flat and sharp Scalps,
&c.
T
several Members of our Society were each
them dignified with some one or more of the
respective Qualifications; insomuch that, wh
we sate down together over our Eleemosyna
Cups, we made a very good Symmetry in
Appearance, by an artful Disposition of our
dies in a proper Place and Light, whereby
seemed to transfer from one to another wh
might be defective or superfluous, and by
tual Applications obumbrate our common Failures and Excesses. It was the customary Business of the Night to make Panegyrical Orations on our natural Features, which were indeed of that wonderful Structure, that neith
the Tongue of
Demosthenes
could describe, th
Chissel of
Polycletus
carve, nor the Pencil
Apelles
paint, with all those proper Graces th
ought to be express'd in such elegant Subjec
I remember
Anthracius,
then Steward of th
Club, had a Carbuncle on his Nose of the fir
Magnitude, not unworthy the Crown of
Oriental Monarch, which did not use to shi
in its full Lustre till Midnight. Then it w
that the divine
Phoxus,
with his acumina
Crest high towring in the Air, conceived
Oration in Words to this Effect:
"Most noble
Anthracius,
I am not ignorant how
it is above the Power of my Eloquence s
ciently to commend the indulgent Benigni
of Nature, who has placed that effulge
Fungus of massy Light, on the utmost Promontory of thy lovely Visage: See how
diffusive Rays dazzle his languid Peepe
and spread a lambent Fire over the who
Surface of his Jowls and Chuckles. Thri
happy Insects! Who, now in Egg, are lodg
in the benign putrid Cells of so foecund an Ovary, expecting to be called forth to the perpetual Day which always surrounds it: How will you then flirt your flitting Wings, and buz within the Verge of that glowing Vortex."
The Oration was received with universal Applause, and
Anthracius
about to answer; but the Proctors coming in, we were obliged to defer the Hearing till next Night.
I am resolved, in Imitation of this wise and excellent Constitution, to establish another Club here in
London,
where I shall not despair of a Number sufficient to make our Complement, and have already sent me from
Oxford
the true and genuine Impression of the Mace, taken in Clay at a general Meeting of that excellent Society, and have sent it to my Carver, intending to open with the first Meeting at
Fern
's, at the
Rose
in
Catherine-street
next
Monday
Night, where any Person may be admitted that is duly qualified, after having passed an Examination by my faithful and watchful Secretary Mr.
Henry Dighton,
in
Fleetstreet,
whom, for his great Sagacity and Judgment in the Mathematical Proportion of Faces, I do depute thereunto.
P. S.
Since my finishing this Paper, the following Letter came to my Hands from the Club at
Oxford,
which I thought fit to insert here.
Mr.
Bickerstaff,
WE are all here very much pleased that you are upon so useful a Work as establishing a Club of Ugly Faces at
London,
being well assured that you cannot want Company enough, but are much surprised to find a Person, going by the Name of
The Spectator,
so audacious as to stile himself a Member of our Society here, and printing Letters as from us to prove his Admittance, and thereby gain him a Reputation in the World. We therefore, whose Names are under-written, do assure you, that those Letters are meerly fictitious, and that we do disown him for a Member of the said Society accordingly.
Witness our Hands,
Will. Wainscote,
Steward.
Tom. Ronchus,
Secretary.
Ordered,
That the
Spectator
make his personal Appearance between this and
Monday
next before Secretary
Dighton,
in order to be examined.
Ordered also,
That none presume to come to the Club with Faces distorted on Purpose to gain Admission, or with Vizard-Masques to dissemble an Accomplishment.
N. B.
In case of Non-Attendance, I shall summon from Time to Time all those who shall out of Contempt absent themselves, or whose Modesty will not suffer them to lay Claim to their being received in the Society.
The TATLER. [No 49.
From
Thursd. May
10. to
Saturd. May
12. 1711.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
May 11.
LOng have I laboured, and much have I travelled, for the Improvement of my Fellow-Subjects. I have not been wanting by my Speculations to show the easy and pleasant Ways to Virtue; nor have I been less severe in censuring Vice wherever I met it, which I find every where increase, and come on apace, while Virtue slowly creeps up, meets with continual Opposition, and seldom, very seldom comes to that Perfection as to dare to look Vice in the Face; but then it easily looks such false Courage out of Countenance. It was most amazing to me, when I was Yesterday at St.
James
's Coffee-house, to see a forward Youth, well dressed and powdered, whom I knew not only to be of very mean Extract, but of more despicable Parts, lay his extraordinary Chin over a Duke's Shoulder, and as familiarly ask him impertinent Questions, as if his Equality or Intimacy entitled him to disturb that noble Peer, who, when he was delivered from the Weight of his Chin, enquired who he was. How easy had it been for me to have told the Company, that that Place was indeed very fit for him, but in another Capacity? However I only privately informed th
Master, who, in Respect to his Brother CoffeeMan, desired the Count to know himself, an
not be so familiar with those that he did no
know. From that Place I came to
Tom
's at
Devereux-Court.
I have a singular Respect for that courteous Man, and find, that if he permits Doctor
Sal-vo
—to lay aside the Man in that violent Man, and with an Indignation (greater than can be admitted to any Orator) retire into the Third Sphere, and talk Things indeed not fit to be heard, I assure my Under-Secretary, that as Curiosity at present doubles his Customers at the Doctor's Eloquence, in a short Time, as no Body else now can be heard, there will be no Body to hear.
Ordered
therefore, That unless the said Doctor will condescend to be on the Level with Common Sense, his Tea be always Two Degrees under Proof; That he be allowed no Tobacco, nor the Use of his own
S. V. O.
both too conducive to Agitation; but after having paid his Penny, you show him the Situation of your Door.
What made me in some Measure excuse the Doctor's Vociferation was, that I did not see as usual the News-Papers, of which none could give Account, till in about Half an Hour's Time I saw a Man come out of the Yard with a Handful, yet enquiring most thirstily for the
Post-Boy;
till he had that, he would not deliver the rest. Upon Enquiry, I found him to be my old Friend the Upholsterer revived in a
North-British
Barber, who is so great a Patriot, so good a Politician, so sollicitous for the Grand Alliance in General, and so tender of the Interest of every particular Court, that for them he neglects the more trifling Cares of domestick Concerns, and appears early and late in a tatter'd Gown.
"Sir, (says he to me) by your Leave, there is one Paragraph of very great Importance which has escaped me."
And having directed me to it, (for I would not again part with it out of my Hand) desired I would read it, which I did in a direct Line through the whole Paper, without Regard to the Distinction of Columns, and was as follows:
Yesterday the Empress Regent appeared
for to be changed, and arrived at the Place appointed.
Her Majesty is Daily in Council in order to
resume the Function of the Auditor of the Rota.
And for the Security of the Empire and Finances
Has been arrived some Days ago at
Marli.
'Ay Sir, said he, How can that be? Surely Sir—Nay, look'ee Sir, said I, If you don't like my Reading, if you'll stay so long for it as you have made others, you may have it again; but he retired.'
ADVERTISEMENT.
Upon the Reprimand which Count
Coffee
received Yesterday, he begins to abate his Pride, and being apprehensive of being excluded from all Society, has petitioned to be admitted into my Ugly Face Club. I do therefore order my Secretary
Henry Dighton
to enrall him without Examination, being truly qualified, for Affectation is all over Ugliness.
The TATLER. [No 50
— Dii tibi formam,
Dii tibi Divitias dederant, Artemque fruendi
Hor.
From
Saturd. May
12. to
Tuesday May
15. 1711.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
May 14.
DIscouraged and wearied by the ill Success of my Endeavours to reclaim this obstinate Age f om its Vices and Follies, I have often had it in my Thoughts to quit my Office. My Friends all importune me to it, and one of them, whom in
January
last I had desired to continue this Paper during a necessary Avocation of mine, actually tried to lay it down handsomly for me. Nothing has hindered me from complying with their Requests, but a strong Benevolence I have always had towards Mankind, and an ardent Desire of doing some Good in my Generation. These alone have supported me under my Disappointment, and now prompt me to put in Execution a new Scheme, which is to abate something from the Grandeur of my Enterprize; and, since I cannot attain a greater Good, to attempt a less, no longer endeavouring to ease Men of their Follies, but in their Follies; nor striving to make Men supportable to each other, but each one to himself. This Thought arose in me the other Night at the Play, upon observing several Difficulties that many of our Nobility and Gentry laboured under. A pretty young Gentleman tore his Breeches, and broke his Sword, by getting over the Box into the Pit, that he might have that Opportunity of exposing to Sight his Pearl-coloured Stockings and red-top'd Shoes. Another, who had a very fine Wig, and a Feather in his Hat, was forced to sit covered all the Time, and spoil the Wig to shew the Feather. A Third, lest his fring'd Gloves should not be seen, underwent the Pain of leaning forwards for a whole Play together upon the fore Part of the Box, setting his Arms upright upon his Elbows. A Fourth, who was in low Circumstances of Stature, every now and then with great Labour heaved into Sight a rich Sword-Knot: And many others were variously hamper'd and perplex'd in displaying their several Fineries. To remedy which Inconveniences, I at first thought it might be proper to advise the Owners of the Play-house to appropriate each Division of the Side-Boxes to a several Dress, and to distinguish them by Inscriptions over them in large Letters in these and the like Words:
Red-top'd Shoes.
Sword-Knots.
Feathers.
Fring'd Gloves.
Gold Snuff-Boxes.
Dress'd at all Points.
By which Means the whole Audience would at one Glance be appriz'd of the particular Ornament of every Person in that Division.
But reflecting since that this Invention would be of too narrow an Use, (it being likely to extend only to the Play-house, and perhaps a Cathedral or two) I have applied my self to find out something that may be of general Ease to the Beau Monde; proceeding in this Manner; I considered what might be the Rise or Cause of all that vast Variety of Fashions which we Yearly see. This I found to be solely the Oftentation of Riches; for upon this Accoun
it is, that People have no sooner one Sui
brought Home from the Taylor's, but (to shew that their Purse is not exhausted) they bespeak another, which (that it may appear to the most careless Eye to be a late Purchase) must differ from the former, not only in Matter, but in Form. This in the present Course of Things will be an eternal Occasion of the Mutability of Fashions, and as a Man has but one Way of being in the Right, and Ten thousand of being in the Wrong, so there can be but one Dress commodious, and as soon as we deviate from that, we shall find all the rest troublesome. I therefore thought, that if a Medium could be invented by me, whereby both the Fair and the Foul. Sex might at once be rid of the Incumbrances of the Mode, and be continued in the Reputation of Profuseness, I should do an acceptable Piece of Service to my Country, and procure to my self Peace of Mind in a Consciousness that I had not lived in vain. This I hope I have at last happily effected by the following Project:
An Office shall be
ed by the Name of
The Equivalent Office.
In this Office, any Person shall be admitted to pay down such Sum or Sums of Money as he or she shall be desirous to expend in any particular Ornament or Ornaments. Upon the Payment of such Sum or Sums, and Intimation given what Piece of Finery it is designed for, there shall be made out a neat Ticket or Credential (in the Language of the Office) to be worn in the most conspicuous Part of the Body, certifying to all Men, that the Wearer thereof has actually laid out so much Money as would have purchased such an Ornament therein described, and requiring them to deem, esteem and repute the said Wearer as
ipso facto
wearing the said Ornament, any Thing in outward Appearance to the contrary notwithstanding.
The Advantages that will arise from this Office are innumerable. I shall only hint at a few, which will put the Reader into a Way of discovering many more.
By Vertue of proper Credentials, Gentlemen may wear Wigs of such Size and Colour as shall best suit with their Features and Complexions, and yet have the Credit of Light Full-Bottoms. Thick Legs may be diminished by black Stockings, and Spindle-Shanks enlarged by white, yet both be reputed as Scarlet Silk. Corns may be avoided by keeping the Feet in easy old Shoes, and yet the Owner maintain the Reputation of having a new Pair every Day. Ladies, by these Credentials, may yet farther enlarge their Petticoats, which in their present Method is impossible to be done. They may make their Head-Dresses proportionable to their Petticoats, and they may patch their Faces with Diamonds without Disparagement to their Eyes.
I am not insensible how highly beneficial this Scheme might be in raising Money for the Publick; but a former Project of mine having been rejected with Scorn when I offered it, and Two Years after made Use of with good Success, but without any Acknowledgment of or to the Inventor, I am disgusted from making any more Proposals of that Nature. I had once a Mind to apply the Profits to Charitable Uses; but then I thought again, that doing Good with the Money would be so prodigious an Alteration in the Application of it, that it would create an insuperable. Objection against the whole Undertaking in those who were likely to be my Contributors; so that I have at last resolved to apply it wholly to my own Benefit.
The TATLER. [No 51.
— Hae Nuga Seria ducunt
In Mala, derisum simul exceptumque sinistri.
Hor.
From
Tuesday May
15. to
Thursd. May
17. 1711.
From my own Apartment in
Channel-Row,
May 16.
IT is impossible to describe Wit by Generals: We must descend to Particulars, and trace it Part by Part. For Wit is like Beauty: We may admire the Air, the Symmetry, the whole Collection of Charms; but we cannot express it without running over the Lip, the Neck, the Eye, the Breasts, and every individual Feature. At present I shall examine that Sort of Wit we call
Turns.
These appear to Advantage in some Parts of Poetry, which make their proper Province, but lose their Lustre when misplaced, and have nothing to excuse them, but an unbounded irregular Fancy. The Ornaments of Poetry, like those of Dress, owe their
Ecclat
in a great Measure to their Situation. A Turn, that would have given Life to an
Epigram,
will make an Image in
Heroicks
particoloured and ridiculous; as the same Jewel which adorned the Ear or the Neck, would in the Nose look monstrous and rueful. This Misapplication then is a Species of False Wi
and has a large Share in the Degeneracy
our modern Writers. I should be apt to distinguish the
Muse
that inspired this Sort
Wit from the Divine
Calliope,
as I would a
C
quet
from a
Fine Woman:
One is all Air an
Affectation; the other refines upon good Sense
yet converses in proper Words and Sentiments. A Turn is the Creature of Fancy, that after it is born, is put under the Tuition of the Judgment, which is to assign it a proper Station, and to stint its Extravagancies. When it depends upon the Words or Style, great Care is to be used that it may not dwindle into
P
and
Jingle;
and when it consists chiefly in the Thought, the same Diligence is required that it may not sink into any of those
Flowers
of the School, or
Common-Places
of Youth, by which they gradually ascend to this Attainment. Both the
Real
and
Verbal Turn
owe their Beauty to Novelty; for there is no greater Perfection in these Witticisms, than what arises from that sudden Surprize they make upon the Imagination. They seem to take their Name from their Nature; for they consist mostly in advancing a Thought or Expression, and then making what follows, play upon it in an agreeable Way, either by retracting what went before, or wittily perverting it, or comparing it with something that hits the same Fact or Idea to any Degree of Exactness, or giving some surprizing Reason for it when it seemed a Paradox. Indeed, the Variety of Turns is so great, and their Beauty so entirely owing to this Variety, that it is almost impossible to fix them to any stated Rules. A
Turn
being the Product of Fancy, it is unnatural to use it but in those gayer and more airy Parts of Poetry, where the Fancy is at Liberty to wanton and gambol. In the
Epick,
in
Tragedy,
or in that Sort of
Elegy
which has Distress for its Subject, it would be ridiculous and trifling; for here the chief Business belongs to the Judgment, and the Fancy is only concerned in ranging for Images and Ideas equal to the Grandeur of the Subject. A Hero in a Passion, might as well express the high Sentiments of his Soul by laughing at one of the Plumes out of his Helmet, as by playing with a Turn or a Double Entendre. A Lover, lamenting the Rigour of his Mistress, or a Poet the Loss of his Friend, in this sportive Way, would make as aukward a Figure as the resigned
Ardelia,
when she laughs at the Mischiefs committed by her Monkey, though the Loss of her
China
wrings her very Soul; or an
Irishman,
in his Country Way, singing at a Funeral. The Ancients had Abundance of this Sort of Wit, and used it more discreetly than the Moderns. The
Greeks
indeed appear perfect Strangers to it: They had other Ways to improve that Mirth which was so natural to them.
Anacreon
and
Aristophanes
write in a Way where
Turns
are a Beauty, and yet it is very difficult to find so much as one Expression of that Sort in their Works.
Homer, Hesiod, Theocritus,
and
Musaeus,
have nothing like it in their Poems. It seems to have begun at
Rome,
when
Epigrams
became the common Entertainment of their best People. After Supper, or over a Bottle in a cool Retreat, it was their Custom to divert one another with reciting or composing three or four
Distichs,
that were usually pointed with one of these Turns, in which they were smart upon some of the reigning Coxcombs, Coquets, or Humours of that Age. Modern Lampoons were introduced as a
Third
Course at the Tables of great Men in Imitation of this Custom. A good Part of
Martial
's Epigrams seem
have been made at some of those Conversations; whence we may account for the grea
Inequality in his Works, which himself acknowledges—
Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mal
plura.
For we may imagine, that the
Grave
Pieces were made just upon the Whet, the
Bright
after the first Bottle, and the
Smutty
after a full Dose. The Applause that followed upon these smart Things, tempted the Fraternity to mingle them with their most Serious and Pathetick Works.
Ovid,
whose great Fault was
Redundante,
ran early into a palpable Extravagance this Way. In his Exile, amidst Cold, Hunger, Solitude, and Distress, he indulges this aukward
B
dinery
very feelingly. Imagine a generous Fellow, touched with the Loss of a Fine Woman, and could he find Leisure for so egregious a Turn as—
Tu non Inventa, Reperta es?
Narcissus
is turned into a Flower, and well deserved it for playing with his own Misery, and making
Flowers
of his Misfortunes. When he bursts forth in the most wanton Merriment, with—
Inopem me Copia fecit.
Vellem, quod amamus, abesset.
Roger: Anne Rogem? Quid deinde rogabo?
You would think he were
varying
at
Wertminster,
and not preparing himself for a real Transformation.
Virgil,
the most judicious and correct Writer in the World, has studiously avoided every Temptation to this Error. His—
Ignoscenda quidem, scirent si agnoscere Manes.
Is the only Thing that looks like a
Turn.
How carefully does he avoid it in that fine Complaint of
Gallus
—
Tu procul a Patria, nee sit mihi credere, tantum
Alpinas, Ah Dura! Nives?
There is all the Beauty of the Analagy in two Words, which
Ovid
would have wiredrawn into two Lines at least: For a Professor of
Turns
can never forbear exerting himself when he happens to bring a Scornful Mistress into the Company of Cold and Frost, till he has made the Lady a perfect Winter-piece; and 'tis all one if Fire had made a Third Person in the Conversation. I remember a very celebrated Epigram, which begins thus:
— Me Nive candenti petiit modo
Julia
—
Where the Author submits to be pelted with Snow-balls by his Mistress for Eight Lines together, on Purpose to take the Benefit of this Melting Allegory. It would set up an ordinary Critick to take the Moderns to Task upon this single Article, the
Misapplication
of
Turns.
The Time may perhaps come, when I may in Person summon our great
Alexander, Theodosius, Brutus, Anthony, Caesar, T
, Appius,
and
Osmyn,
to answer their Extravagancies this Way, and out of their own Mouths shall condemn them. I do not mean for little harmless
Turns
made in their Res
eries, their cool Soliloquies, or in snip-snap Dialogue with a Priest or a Gentleman-Usher; but for
Turus
i
Fits of Love and of Madness; for
Turus
spoke
in the very Face of Death, and of the Gods themselves; nay, in the very Face of their Mistresses: And I am not mistaken, if they have not sometimes raised the inordinate Appetite of Wit to the horrid Outrage of a downright
Quibble.
The TATLER. [No 52.
From
Thursday May
17. to
Saturd. May
19. 1711.
A Lover's Meditation on his Mistress.
MADAM,
THE Hours to me are Ages of Misery; they must be insupportable to a Wretch who can never know what Joy is but in her Presence. Love may well be defined a restless Impatience to be with those we adore. What a miserable Constraint then must I live under, who make it my Business to avoid the Mistress of my Soul? Where my Heart, my Wishes, my Thoughts are eternally, there I must never be. Did she but know what I suffer, and how much a Discretion as exact as mine makes one miserable; but alas! they must love like me that are to guess at my Torments. I hardly know I live, but by what I endure for her. O! Nothing can touch my Soul; there is no Harmony in Words, unless she speaks-them; there is no Bliss, but in her Smile; no Terror, but in her Frown; nothing worth living for, but her Esteem. There is this Comfort in an Affliction like mine, no other Thing can give me a Moment's Uneasiness. She prevents all other Grief, she prevents all other Pleasure. If the whole World should change its Place, and she not concerned, I should hardly perceive it. Whether Peace or War, what Party prevails, whose Ruin is near, all these Things are now indifferent, they employ not my Thoughts. My only Impatience is to increase her good Opinion, my only Care not to forfeit her Esteem. This Thought brings me into one of those terrible Fits of Fear which often seize them that adore her. I know I am not in positive Disobedience; and a little Equivocation, if so much practised in Religion, may be indulged in Love. I neither write nor send to her; I dare not disobey. Sure if there be any Thing like a Fault in this, I am safe. Who is it is to accuse? Who is guilty? And I hope I may say, What is the Crime? This Letter is sent to you, meant to her, and it came from him; but, Who are these? In this Dress, it is to every Body, it is to no Body. How will you draw up my Indictment? However let me not be condemn'd unaccus'd, unheard; save me from being criminal, if you can think me so. Burn this, and there can be but a single Evidence against me, your self; and there never shall be another. This is the plotting Way of your Servant, who with less Fear would engage in Treason than in what might offend her too scrupulous Niceness. I confess I tremble, tho' I can say (if this be one) it is a new Kind of Sin, against which there is no Law.
Her Eyes were not more fatal to me the first Time that I saw them, than my own have been false to my Heart ever since, if they have
told her a Thousand Times that I die for
Alas! How many Tears will that Happin
cost them? They have gaz'd upon her, th
have confess'd a Passion; and should not
Hand declare, my Tongue endeavour to describe it, that she might know my Love
as it ought to be? The Adoration that I
her is such, and no other but what we shou
all pay the Gods were their charming Attributes so visible. I was prepared for their
tal Influence before I saw her Eyes, I was bewitch'd by her Syren Tongue before I heard it. I lov'd the Spring from whence she came, and my Soul follows the enticing Stream with Pleasure. I knew there must be Wit and Fire before I heard so, and I found more than was spoken of. Thus I was struck by Prepossession, and the Poison first instilled into my Heart before I saw or knew her, can never be removed from thence by all that I shall ever see or know. I would not profane a Confession as sincere as ever was a dying Man's with the least Augmentation of Truth. I will not pretend that I have not endeavoured to remove, by any other Object, a Stroke of Fate (as I may call it) that has given and will give me such Uneasiness. Were I to make a Wish for a Friend, he should have many Half-Passions, but none such as I have felt for her.
O! This would content me alone, that she might know how long I have struggled against her Charms in vain.
As the Beginning of my Fate was extraordinary, I think all the Steps of it have been and will be out of the common Road. The Foundation of a common Passion is a Desire to please ones self, but the Aim of mine is only to please her I adore.
Could it be more Satisfaction to her to have
e wretched than happy, I should chuse the
rst, and find some Satisfaction in Misery: But what I cannot endure is to be indifferent to
er; to be eternally thinking of her, and never
hought of by her. Heavens preserve me from
his, and I willingly in every Thing else sub
it to Fate.
O how I fear her Wit, her Judgment, that Distinction that lets no Folly escape! I fear her
ut upon this Score, for sure I am, all her Pe
etration can never discover the least Contra
iction, the least Deceit in any Word, the least Want of Respect in any Action. Sure I am, no Time can ever discover the least Diminution in
y Zeal, and must I nevertheless fear this most
dored Lady should employ that Over-Stock of Wit she hath to ridicule the Sufferings of a
reaking Heart, so faithful, so submissive, so
incere? O! How shall I express my self? What
hall I say? Or is it possible to be silent? There
a distracted Language she does not under
tand; the Dialect is particular to them that
ove; and the cruel Lady will find no Sense in
, because she is insensible. She must not then play the Critick too severely, if she should chance to hear my Complaints. She must excuse my accusing her of Ignorance. What is it she does not understand but Love? Vows, Curses, Melancholy, Madness, Hopes, Despair, Shunning, Pursuing, Passion, Discretion, Impatience, Resignation; all these in one Letter, she would call a romantick Heap of Contradictions shuffled together; yet they do all agree in me, and work at once in my distracted Mind. If the greatest Wit had put them together with the utmost Art and Passion, they would express less than I feel: The Thoughts would be below my Love, and not above the Truth.
Who can teach me to write to this terri
Lady, that ignorant of the Fatality of
Charms, might suspect the Effects of the
and when they are but faintly painted, wo
think the Colours fierce? What can I have
course to but Plainness and Sincerity? S
then without Offence I may tell this Tr
What can the Admiration of her Wit, the
dence of her Generosity, and Truth added
these, that charming Agreeableness in eve
Word, in every Look, in every Action? W
can all these produce, but Love with the ut
Passion? O there the Criminal Word is
and yet she cannot be displeased, though
without Virtue, without Wit, with little
putation, might pretend to be angry.
Were it too much for a Man she hath broug
to the Brink of Despair, for a Man that wo
die a Thousand Deaths to serve her, to who
Life is a Burthen unless she make it easier
him? O were it too much to beg Leave, wh
he scarce ever sees her, when he dare ne
speak, that he might sometimes ease his So
in a respectful Line! Has not every Body ete
nal Opportunities of speaking to her? And
I, that suffer more than ever Man did, not da
almost to come near her? I cannot doubt b
you will judge impartially upon this Occasio
Is it possible, after having gazed upon tho
searching Eyes, to escape their Power? Is i
possible to hear her Words, and cease adorin
her? Is it possible to love to the Distractio
that they do who know her, and not langui
eternally after the Sight of her? Is it possible, when there is no Hopes of seeing her, to support the cruel Absence without writing to her? I know what you would say for you
self. Think then what is the miserable Condition of him who struggles with all these seeming Impossibilities; but to live near her, and be as far from her as the
Antipodes!
And if I never see her only for some hasty Moments in an Age, and in these Separations not permitted to give the least Ease to my distracted Soul, O were not Dying preferable to this restless Life! For I fright my self if I write what I never intend to send, and I awake in Terrors if I but dream of her. My hard Fa
e condemns me to adore her in all the opposite and most torment
ng Circumstances of Love, with a Distraction
eading to Madness, yet with a Reservedness that would shame Philosophy, and with a Respect might suffice a Deity; with an Impatience that gives an eternal Rack to my Soul, yet could I wait Hours, Days, and Weeks, for one Moment's Sight of her. O the false Fires with which the persecuting Fops afflict your Sex! Every Way false! They are not such as warm my Breast. Though I could leap through Flames to come to her, and not feel more Heat; though I could swim through Seas, and not quench the Flame; yet I love with that Coolness and Temper, with that Command over my Passion, that, rather than bring her to the least Inconveniency, I would renounce the utmost Happiness if it were in my Reach. One would think this were enough to be allowed the most passionate, the most miserable of Men. Misery beyond this is hardly to be conceived. This seems Torment enough in Love to drag an afflicted Heart through so many distracted Fears for such an Eternity: But to have lived accused of having deserved her Anger, to think I was accounted Criminal, that knew the tender faithful Passion of my Soul; to live thus for Ages, for many Months without obtaining one happy to be justified, without doing any Thing rash or indiscreet to show my Innocence: This you will sure allow to have been Torment and Discretion beyond any Example.
But I eternally find Fault with the faint D
scriptions I make of what I suffer, and shou
have an eternal Task indeed, were I to begi
again till I could satisfy my self in what I say
her I love. This, and this alone, justifies
forbidding the Attempt, since she only forbi
what Impossibility prevents; for were my Pa
sion to be described, it would not be unfit
her to hear. Not to complain, and endure
much, is impossible; but to hope for C
without being able to describe the Disea
seems Madness; therefore, alas I ask, I see
I hope for none. Let her but give me Opi
to allay my Grief, and only help me langui
out Life in less painful Love. What Word
what Language can express my passionate R
spect, or give the least Idea of the Distracti
of my Soul? She methinks, and she alone th
is capable of creating it, might conceive i
O were it but conceived, I should not wholl
be left unpitied in the wretched Impossibility
one Moment's Happiness or Quiet! She wou
think with some Conscience, that from the fir
Moment I saw, I heard her speak, I have la
guished out my Life in never-ceasing Uneas
ness. Racks are forbidden for our Bodies b
our Laws, and is it lawful for her to torme
and crueify my Soul? Against the happy M
ment that I see her next, may some genero
Friend advise her to consult that Heart of her
which would shew more Compassion where i
were less necessary: Let her consider, whethe
there is nothing due to that faithful Slave, wh
at all Times, in all Places lives, but dying fo
her.
The End of the Fifth Volume.
AN INDEX TO THE TATLERS.
VOL. V.
A.
ACademick Fops.
Page
234
Achilles
's Spear, the Rust of it cured the Wounds it made. 85
Adventure of St.
James
's-
Park.
216
Advice to Dramatick Writers. 185
Affectation of being thought of a Family. 73
— A false Guide in our Conduct. 97
— All over Ugliness. 247
Alienation Court. 123, 126
Almanack, Poetical. 136,
&c.
Analogy between a Physician, a Cook, and a Dramatick Writer. 113
Anthracius,
Steward of the Club of Ugly Faces, hi
famous Carbuncle.
Page
Aretine,
his great Influence over Princes.
Asses, the
Roman
Law against killing them.
B.
Bear-Dogs
Bean, his Qualifications.
Bickerstaff (Isaac),
his Journey into
Staffordshire
— His Dream.
— Wishing himself Parson of the Parish out of Revenge. 35
— His Care to avoid Reproaches. 223
— How he arrived to the Censorship of
Great Britain.
230
— His disagreeable Entertainment in the Country. 103
Brawn
the Vintner's Oeconomy in his Kitchen. 111
Bull-Dogs. 238
C.
Callipaedia,
or the Art of getting pretty Children. 125
Castalio
and
Polydor,
their unhappy Amours. 78
Cavaliero de Tristo Figuro
(Don). 42
Charity handsomely recommended to the Fair Sex. 149,
&c.
Clorinda,
Recipe for her Vapours. 33
Coffee
(Count). 247
Colin.
77
Country, its Corruptions. 8
Creature-Merchant. 72
D.
Danish
Dogs.
Page
239
Darkin
(Mrs.
Olivia
), an old Acquaintance of Mr.
Bickerstaff's.
218
— His happy Estate in not marrying her. 222
Defects of Nature. 241
Desire of doing something. 40
Difference between a fine Woman and a Coquet. 254
Dighton,
Mr.
Bickerstaff
's Secretary. 178
Discretion, the Want of it the Perversion of good Manners. 102,
&c.
Distinction of several Sorts of People. 170
Divisions of the Side-Boxes in the Playhouse appropriated to several Dresses. 249
Dogs, a Disquisition on all Sorts of them. 237
Dogs of the Long-Robe. 239
Dresses, a commodious Project for them. 250
Duelling, handsomely reprimanded. 137
E.
Town-Eclogue. 118
Education, when misapply'd. 82
Empericus,
the Atheistical Quack. 149
Expectation of the Thousand Pounds a Year Lot in the Lottery, by the
Well-Close
Quality. 225
F.
Faber,
Mr.
Bickerstaff
's Friend. 227
Faliscus Gratius.
236
Fasces
of
Westminster
-School. 233
Fashion (Ned.)
105
Feather (Jack),
a compleat Rake. 231
Filch (Jenny)
her Character. 13
Flowers of Quality. 209
Fop-Dogs. 239
Foundling
the Tavern Boy.
Page
Fox-Hounds.
G.
Garden and Country Retirement, their Description. 206,
&c.
Generous Mind, its greatest Shock. 202
Genius. 129
Great Men, their little Amusements. 87, 88
Greyhounds. 239
H.
Heedless (Harry),
his Inventory of his Goods in Heroick Verse. 20
Hippocrates
very Humane. 148
Horatio,
a well-bred Gentleman. 106
Hundred, the Humour of telling it.
Huskanawing, what it means. 148
I.
James
(Mrs.) 43
Idle (Tom).
170
Infirmities, not always natural to Constitutions. 35
Insuring of Necks. 227
K.
Kellaeus (Joannes).
235
Kill-Chairman
(Lady). 34
Kidney.
32, 38
L.
Letters —
—
Judith Corkin
to her Husband.
Page
45
—
Isaac Bickerstaff
to all Church-wardens and Sidesmen. 9
Letters to
Isaac Bickerstaff
from
—
Humphry Wagstaff.
3
—
Castraccio Bellechantini.
30
—
Peter Proteus
of
Wadham.
46
—
Will. Wealthy.
57
—
Tho. Huff.
59
—
John Hart.
61
—
Powell.
67
—
Fidelio.
78
— On the same. 89
—
W. L.
99
—
T. L.
of
New College, Oxon.
138
— The Answer. 139
—
Sylvia.
143
— The Answer. 144
—
F. B.
150
— The Free-thinker. 161
—
F. Y.
172
—
Pixidicula.
173
—
W. H.
180
—
E. G.
186
—
Belinda.
192
— An unknown Hand. 194
—
Sarah Bubbleboy.
195
—
J. E.
200
— An unknown Hand. 203
—
Gratius Faliscus.
237
— The Club of Ugly Faces at
Oxford.
243
— From
Corydon
to his Boy
Alexis.
95
Love for Love, the Comedy. 112, 124
Lovers, an Office of Insurance for them. 212
— Proposals for it.
Page
213,
&c.
Lover's Meditation on his Mistress.
M.
Mac-Carrot
an Irishman.
Marmalade
(Sir
Paul
).
Martial,
good at Turns of Wit.
Masters and Servants, the Relation between the
Matchlock
(Major), an old
Oliverian.
Mean Extraction, its Vices.
Meanness of Spirit betrays Men of Parts.
M
ll
on (Solomon).
Misapplication, a Species of false Wit.
Moody (Will.)
87,
Mo
ale les Petite.
Morphew (John)
indicted.
— His and
Charles Lillie
's Petition.
Musick, its Effects.
N.
Nature (Humane), ill Judges of it.
Nature's Favourites.
O.
Office equivalent.
Old Age, a Sort of Childhood.
Opera (
Powell
's).
Oppian (Charles).
Oxford
Gentleman's Letter for the Benefit of
Publick.
P.
Pacolet, Primiere Ministre
to the Censor of
Great Britain. Page
92
— his Expedition. 93
— Some Contents in the Margin of his Book. 95
Painted Chamber. 170
Parish Lions. 24
—
Covent-Garden
Lion. 25
— St.
Mary-Ax
's Lion. 27
Party-Society. 132, 133
Peasants. 239
Philalethes.
85
Phoxus,
his Oration on
Anthracius
's Carbuncle. 242
Pleasing, the Desire of appearing so natural and prevailing. 97
Pleasure, the grossest Mistakes about it. 183
Polycrates,
Tyrant of
Samos,
his throwing a Ring into the Sea wittily advertis'd. 152
Power, its Division. 197
Prejudice hardly shaken off. 7
Prostitution of publick Capacities to private Resentments Petulancy. 37
Proteus,
(Dr. of
Wadham Coll. Oxon.
115
— His ridiculous Life. 117
— His Recantation. 205
Pulpit Reflections, their ridiculous Deformity. 36
Pythagoras,
a merry Conceit of him. 145
Q
Quixote
(Don), his Character. 76
R.
Racan
(Monsieur),
Menage
's Story of him. 5
Rattle (Arthur)
a compleat Rake.
Page
Redundancies of Nature.
Reflection, the Want of it the Cause of Errors i
Conversation and Conduct.
Regulation of Manners, the
Tatler
's End.
Reproof for a proud Critick.
Resolution of the House of Ladies.
Rochefaucaut
's Refinements on the Distresses and Misfortunes of Men.
Rummer
in
Queen-street,
Mr.
Bickerstaff's
Entertainment there. 111
Rural Censors instituted. 60, 61
S.
Sal— Vol—
(Dr.) 246
Schoolmaster's Character. 233
Seneca
's Opinion of the Relation between Master and Servants. 91
Severity, the cruelest on an old Man. 22
Severus,
a canting Critick. 74
Smart
(Mr.) 128
Snap,
a Critick.
Ibid.
Socrates,
catched Whistling and Dancing by himself. 87
Spaniels
(French.)
238
Species, every one at Land has one to resemble it at Sea.
Spectacles (Mr.
Bickerstaff
's), a Treatise for the present Age, formed upon the Rules of Antiquity. 190
Spectator reprimanded. 135
Sternhold (Tobias)
indicted for Rhiming. 128
Sucking-Bottles for all under the Age of Twenty. 229
— Where to be had. 230
Superiority, the Desire of it natural to all.
Page
168
— The Necessity of it on the most important Occasions. 169
— Instances of it in inferiour Degrees. 170, 171
T.
Talents ill apply'd. 123
Tatler,
a merry Conceit of its Original. 145
— Discontinued. 2
— A
Pythagorean,
and frequently transformed. 178
— When misunderstood. 187
Tatler-Female.
6
Tax upon great Genius's. 21
Temper lies open to Strokes of Fortune and Incidents unforeseen. 1
Temple-Bar, Pacolet
's Description of it. 94
Theatre, its Usefulness. 158, 159
Tippling (Jack).
169
Tobacco, its Original. 174
— Its Transplantation. 175
— Its ill Treatment, and great Use. 176
— Its Refinement into Snuff. 177
Tromantine Ear, its Formation. 69
Trusty (Sam.),
Mr.
Bickerstaff
's Friend. 11
— His Character. 51
— His Friend Dr. — 52
— His Nephew, an accomplish'd Youth. 53
Turns, a Sort of Wit highly valuable. 253
— When improperly apply'd. 255
— Their proper Distinctions. 256,
&c.
Tutors value no Man's Wisdom besides their own. 108
— Their imperious and severe Menage condemn'd. 109
— Their wrong Notions of Qualifications.
Ibid.
The good Tutor justly applauded by Mr.
Bickerstaff.
110
Twining,
Under-Secretary to Mr.
Dighton. Pag.
V.
Ugly Faces, their Club at
Oxford.
— Set up at
London.
— Summons to it.
Virgin's Address to
Isaac Bickerstaff.
Virtue, its slow Improvement.
Upperside
(Mr. Justice).
Uriah Pattern
the Salesman.
— His Son turn'd crack-brain'd.
W.
Well-Close
Coach.
Well-Close
Pilgrims.
Westminster-
School Election.
Wit, but the Embellishment of a good Understanding.
— Its Dignity and Distinction seldom
understood.
— Cannot be described by Generals.
—
Praecocius
's Wit, its Ruin.
Wits, their Way of recommending themselv
19,
— Justly distinguish'd.
Wordy
(Mr.
Critick
).
Worthless (Will).
Wrangle (Jeremy),
A. B. indicted and punis
Writer, his Duty.
Writing, its Circumstances.
Y.
ng Fellows mistaken in spending their Time.
Page
184
Z.
no
the Stoick. 13
FINIS.