"I don't write to you as often as I might, because notwithstanding
I am afflicted at all times, I am quite overcome with sorrow whilst
I am writing to you, or reading any letters that I receive from
you.----If these evils are not to be removed, I must desire to see
you, my dearest life, as soon as possible, and to die in your
embraces; since neither the gods, whom you always religiously
worshipped; nor the men, whose good I always promoted, have
rewarded us according to our deserts.----What a distressed wretch
am I! should I ask a weak woman, oppressed with cares and sickness,
to come and live with me, or shall I not ask her? Can I live
without you? But I find I must. If there be any hopes of my return,
help it forward, and promote it as much as you are able. But if all
that is over, as I fear it is, find out some way or other of coming
to me. This you may be sure of, that I shall not look upon myself
as quite undone whilst you are with me. But what will become of
Tulliola? You must look to that; I must confess, I am entirely at a
loss about her. Whatever happens, we must take care of the
reputation and marriage of that dear unfortunate girl. As for
Cicero, he shall live in my bosom and in my arms. I cannot write
any further, my sorrows will not let me.----Support yourself, my
dear Terentia, as well as you are able. We have lived and
flourished together amidst the greatest honours: it is not our
crimes, but our virtues that have distressed us.----Take more than
ordinary care of your health; I am more afflicted with your sorrows
than my own. Farewell, my Terentia, thou dearest, faithfullest, and
best of wives."
Methinks it is a pleasure to see this great man in his family, who makes
so different a figure in the Forum or Senate of Rome. Every one admires
the orator and the consul; but for my part, I esteem the husband and the
father. His private character, with all the little weaknesses of
humanity, is as amiable as the figure he makes in public is awful and
majestic. But at the same time that I love to surprise so great an
author in his private walks, and to survey him in his most familiar
lights, I think it would be barbarous to form to ourselves any idea of
mean-spiritedness from these natural openings of his heart, and
disburdening of his thoughts to a wife. He has written several other
letters to the same person, but none with so great passion as these of
which I have given the foregoing extracts.
It would be ill-nature not to acquaint the English reader, that his wife
was successful in her solicitations for this great man, and saw her
husband return to the honours of which he had been deprived, with all
the pomp and acclamation that usually attended the greatest triumph.
[Footnote 201: No. 149.]
[Footnote 202: "Epist." xiv, 1-4.]
No. 160. [ADDISON AND STEELE.
From _Saturday, April 15_, to _Tuesday, April 18, 1710_.
* * * * *
_From my own Apartment, April 17._
A common civility to an impertinent fellow often draws upon one a great
many unforeseen troubles; and if one does not take particular care, will
be interpreted by him as an overture of friendship and intimacy. This I
was very sensible of this morning. About two hours before day, I heard a
great rapping at my door, which continued some time, till my maid could
get herself ready to go down and see what was the occasion of it. She
then brought me up word, that there was a gentleman who seemed very much
in haste, and said he must needs speak with me. By the description she
gave me of him, and by his voice, which I could hear as I lay in my bed,
I fancied him to be my old acquaintance the upholsterer,[203] whom I met
the other day in St. James's Park. For which reason, I bid her tell the
gentleman, whoever he was, that I was indisposed, that I could see
nobody, and that, if he had anything to say to me, I desired he would
leave it in writing. My maid, after having delivered her message, told
me that the gentleman said he would stay at the next coffee-house till I
was stirring, and bid her be sure to tell me, that the French were
driven from the Scarp, and that Douay was invested. He gave her the name
of another town, which I found she had dropped by the way.
As much as I love to be informed of the success of my brave countrymen,
I do not care for hearing of a victory before day, and was therefore
very much out of humour at this unseasonable visit. I had no sooner
recovered my temper, and was falling asleep, but I was immediately
startled by a second rap; and upon my maid's opening the door, heard the
same voice ask her if her master was yet up; and at the same time bid
her tell me, that he was come on purpose to talk with me about a piece
of home news that everybody in town will be full of two hours hence. I
ordered my maid as soon as she came into the room, without hearing her
message, to tell the gentleman, that whatever his news was, I would
rather hear it two hours hence than now; and that I persisted in my
resolution not to speak with anybody that morning. The wench delivered
my answer presently, and shut the door. It was impossible for me to
compose myself to sleep after two such unexpected alarms; for which
reason I put on my clothes in a very peevish humour. I took several
turns about my chamber, reflecting with a great deal of anger and
contempt on these volunteers in politics, that undergo all the pain,
watchfulness, and disquiet of a First Minister, without turning it to
the advantage either of themselves or their country; and yet it is
surprising to consider how numerous this species of men is. There is
nothing more frequent than to find a tailor breaking his rest on the
affairs of Europe, and to see a cluster of porters sitting upon the
Ministry. Our streets swarm with politicians, and there is scarce a shop
which is not held by a statesman. As I was musing after this manner, I
heard the upholsterer at the door delivering a letter to my maid, and
begging her, in a very great hurry, to give it to her master as soon as
ever he was awake, which I opened, and found as follows:
"MR. BICKERSTAFF,
"I was to wait upon you about a week ago, to let you know, that the
honest gentlemen whom you conversed with upon the bench at the end
of the Mall, having heard that I had received five shillings of
you, to give you a hundred pounds upon the Great Turk's being
driven out of Europe, desired me to acquaint you, that every one of
that company would be willing to receive five shillings, to pay a
hundred pounds on the same conditions. Our last advices from
Muscovy making this a fairer bet than it was a week ago, I do not
question but you will accept the wager.
"But this is not my present business. If you remember, I whispered
a word in your ear as we were walking up the Mall, and you see what
has happened since. If I had seen you this morning, I would have
told you in your ear another secret. I hope you will be recovered
of your indisposition by to-morrow morning, when I will wait on you
at the same hour as I did this; my private circumstances being
such, that I cannot well appear in this quarter of the town after
it is day.
"I have been so taken up with the late good news from Holland, and
expectation of further particulars, as well as with other
transactions, of which I will tell you more to-morrow morning, that
I have not slept a wink these three nights.
"I have reason to believe that Picardy will soon follow the example
of Artois, in case the enemy continue in their present resolution
of flying away from us. I think I told you last time we were
together my opinion about the Deulle.
"The honest gentlemen upon the bench bid me tell you, they would be
glad to see you often among them. We shall be there all the warm
hours of the day, during the present posture of affairs.
"This happy opening of the campaign will, I hope, give us a very
joyful summer; and I propose to take many a pleasant walk with you,
if you will sometimes come into the Park; for that is the only
place in which I can be free from the malice of my enemies.
Farewell till three o'clock to-morrow morning. I am,
"Your most humble Servant, &c.
"P.S. The King of Sweden is still at Bender."
I should have fretted myself to death at this promise of a second visit,
if I had not found in his letter an intimation of the good news which I
have since heard at large. I have however ordered my maid to tie up the
knocker of my door in such a manner as she would do if I was really
indisposed. By which means I hope to escape breaking my morning's
rest.[204]
Since I have given this letter to the public, I shall communicate one or
two more, which I have lately received from others of my
correspondents. The following is from a Coquette, who is very angry at
my having disposed of her in marriage to a Bass-viol:[205]
"MR. BICKERSTAFF,
"I thought you would never have descended from the Censor of Great
Britain, to become a match-maker. But pray, why so severe upon the
Kit? Had I been a Jews-harp, that is nothing but tongue, you could
not have used me worse. Of all things, a Bass-viol is my aversion.
Had you married me to a Bagpipe, or a Passing-bell, I should have
been better pleased. Dear Father Isaac, either choose me a better
husband, or I will live and die a Dulcimer. In hopes of receiving
satisfaction from you, I am yours, whilst
"ISABELLA KIT."
The pertness which this fair lady has shown in this letter, was one
occasion of my joining her to the Bass-viol, which is an instrument that
wants to be quickened by these little vivacities; as the sprightliness
of the Kit ought to be checked and curbed by the gravity of the
Bass-viol.
My next letter is from Tom Folio,[206] who it seems takes it amiss that
I have published a character of him so much to his disadvantage:
"SIR,
"I suppose you meant Tom Fool, when you called me Tom Folio in a
late trifling paper of yours; for I find, it is your design to run
down all useful and solid learning. The tobacco-paper on which your
own writings are usually printed,[207] as well as the incorrectness
of the press, and the scurvy letter, sufficiently show the extent
of your knowledge. I question not but you look upon John Morphew to
be as great a man as Elzevir; and Aldus, to have been such another
as Bernard Lintot.[208] If you would give me my revenge, I would
only desire of you to let me publish an account of your library,
which I daresay would furnish out an extraordinary catalogue.
"TOM FOLIO."
It has always been my way to baffle reproach with silence, though I
cannot but observe the disingenuous proceedings of this gentleman, who
is not content to asperse my writings, but has wounded, through my
sides, those eminent and worthy citizens, Mr. John Morphew, and Mr.
Bernard Lintot.[209]
[Footnote 203: See No. 155.]
[Footnote 204: The preceding portion of this paper is printed in
Tickell's edition of Addison's Works.]
[Footnote 205: See No. 157.]
[Footnote 206: See No. 158.]
[Footnote 207: See No. 101.]
[Footnote 208: Bernard Lintot (1675-1736) was Jacob Tonson's principal
rival in the publishing trade in the time of Queen Anne and George I.]
[Footnote 209: The author of a curious pamphlet, "The Critical
Specimen," 1711, said he was much divided in his opinion, whether to
prefer the every way excellent Mr. Jacob Tonson, junior, or Mr. Bernard
Lintot to be his bookseller, for the latter of whom he had had a
particular consideration since he received this eulogium from his
honoured friend Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq.--This pamphlet purports to be a
specimen of a proposed Life of Rinaldo Furioso, Critic of the Woful
Countenance,--_i.e._, John Dennis. It contains remarks upon the two good
lines he wrote (_Spectator_, No. 47) upon the difficulty of
distinguishing his comedies from his tragedies, &c. &c. There is, too,
an allusion to the _Tatlers_ and _Spectators_ in the notice that the
virtues of the critic are to be printed in a very small neat Elzevir
character, and his extravagances in a noble large letter on royal
paper.]
No. 161. [ADDISON.
From _Tuesday, April 18_, to _Thursday, April 20, 1710_.
----Nunquam Libertas gratior exstat
Quam sub rege pio----
CLAUDIAN, De Laudibus Stilichonis, iii. 113.
* * * * *
_From my own Apartment, April 19._
I was walking two or three days ago in a very pleasing retirement, and
amusing myself with the reading of that ancient and beautiful allegory,
called "The Table of Cebes."[210] I was at last so tired with my walk,
that I sat down to rest myself upon a bench that stood in the midst of
an agreeable shade. The music of the birds, that filled all the trees
about me, lulled me asleep before I was aware of it; which was followed
by a dream, that I impute in some measure to the foregoing author, who
had made an impression upon my imagination, and put me into his own way
of thinking.
I fancied myself among the Alps, and, as it is natural in a dream,
seemed every moment to bound from one summit to another, till at last,
after having made this airy progress over the tops of several mountains,
I arrived at the very centre of those broken rocks and precipices. I
here, methought, saw a prodigious circuit of hills, that reached above
the clouds, and encompassed a large space of ground, which I had a great
curiosity to look into. I thereupon continued my former way of
travelling through a great variety of winter scenes, till I had gained
the top of these white mountains, which seemed another Alps of snow. I
looked down from hence into a spacious plain, which was surrounded on
all sides by this mound of hills, and which presented me with the most
agreeable prospect I had ever seen. There was a greater variety of
colours in the embroidery of the meadows, a more lively green in the
leaves and grass, a brighter crystal in the streams, than what I ever
met with in any other region. The light itself had something more
shining and glorious in it than that of which the day is made in other
places. I was wonderfully astonished at the discovery of such a paradise
amidst the wildness of those cold, hoary landscapes which lay about it;
but found at length, that this happy region was inhabited by the Goddess
of Liberty; whose presence softened the rigours of the climate, enriched
the barrenness of the soil, and more than supplied the absence of the
sun. The place was covered with a wonderful profusion of flowers, that
without being disposed into regular borders and parterres, grew
promiscuously, and had a greater beauty in their natural luxuriancy and
disorder, than they could have received from the checks and restraints
of art. There was a river that arose out of the south side of the
mountain, that by an infinite number of turns and windings, seemed to
visit every plant, and cherish the several beauties of the spring, with
which the fields abounded. After having run to and fro in a wonderful
variety of meanders, as unwilling to leave so charming a place, it at
last throws itself into the hollow of a mountain, from whence it passes
under a long range of rocks, and at length rises in that part of the
Alps where the inhabitants think it the first source of the Rhone. This
river, after having made its progress through those free nations,
stagnates in a huge lake,[211] at the leaving of them, and no sooner
enters into the regions of slavery, but runs through them with an
incredible rapidity, and takes its shortest way to the sea.
I descended into the happy fields that lay beneath me, and in the midst
of them, beheld the goddess sitting upon a throne. She had nothing to
enclose her but the bounds of her own dominions, and nothing over her
head but the heavens. Every glance of her eye cast a track of light
where it fell, that revived the spring, and made all things smile about
her. My heart grew cheerful at the sight of her, and as she looked upon
me, I found a certain confidence growing in me, and such an inward
resolution as I never felt before that time.
On the left hand of the goddess sat the Genius of a Commonwealth, with
the cap of liberty on her head, and in her hand a wand, like that with
which a Roman citizen used to give his slaves their freedom. There was
something mean and vulgar, but at the same time exceeding bold and
daring, in her air; her eyes were full of fire, but had in them such
casts of fierceness and cruelty, as made her appear to me rather
dreadful than amiable. On her shoulder she wore a mantle, on which there
was wrought a great confusion of figures. As it flew in the wind, I
could not discern the particular design of them, but saw wounds in the
bodies of some, and agonies in the faces of others; and over one part of
it could read in letters of blood, "The Ides of March."
On the right hand of the goddess was the Genius of Monarchy. She was
clothed in the whitest ermine, and wore a crown of the purest gold upon
her head. In her hand she held a sceptre like that which is borne by the
British monarchs. A couple of tame lions lay crouching at her feet: her
countenance had in it a very great majesty without any mixture of
terror: her voice was like the voice of an angel, filled with so much
sweetness, and accompanied with such an air of condescension, as
tempered the awfulness of her appearance, and equally inspired love and
veneration into the hearts of all that beheld her.
In the train of the Goddess of Liberty were the several Arts and
Sciences, who all of them flourished underneath her eye. One of them in
particular made a greater figure than any of the rest, who held a
thunderbolt in her hand, which had the power of melting, piercing, or
breaking everything that stood in its way. The name of this goddess was
Eloquence.
There were two other dependent goddesses, who made a very conspicuous
figure in this blissful region. The first of them was seated upon a
hill, that had every plant growing out of it, which the soil was in its
own nature capable of producing. The other was seated in a little
island, that was covered with groves of spices, olives, and
orange-trees; and in a word, with the products of every foreign clime.
The name of the first was Plenty, of the second, Commerce. The first
leaned her right arm upon a plough, and under her left held a huge horn,
out of which she poured a whole autumn of fruits. The other wore a
rostral crown upon her head, and kept her eyes fixed upon a compass.
I was wonderfully pleased in ranging through this delightful place, and
the more so, because it was not encumbered with fences and enclosures;
till at length, methought, I sprung from the ground, and pitched upon
the top of a hill, that presented several objects to my sight which I
had not before taken notice of. The winds that passed over this flowery
plain, and through the tops of the trees which were full of blossoms,
blew upon me in such a continued breeze of sweets, that I was
wonderfully charmed with my situation. I here saw all the inner
declivities of that great circuit of mountains, whose outside was
covered with snow, overgrown with huge forests of fir-trees, which
indeed are very frequently found in other parts of the Alps. These trees
were inhabited by storks, that came thither in great flights from very
distant quarters of the world. Methought, I was pleased in my dream to
see what became of these birds, when, upon leaving the places to which
they make an annual visit, they rise in great flocks so high till they
are out of sight; and for that reason have been thought by some modern
philosophers to take a flight to the moon. But my eyes were soon
diverted from this prospect, when I observed two great gaps that led
through this circuit of mountains, where guards and watches were posted
day and night. Upon examination I found, that there were two formidable
enemies encamped before each of these avenues, who kept the place in a
perpetual alarm, and watched all opportunities of invading it.
Tyranny was at the head of one of these armies, dressed in an Eastern
habit, and grasping in her hand an iron sceptre. Behind her was
Barbarity, with the garb and complexion of an Ethiopian; Ignorance with
a turban upon her head; and Persecution holding up a bloody flag,
embroidered with fleurs-de-luce. These were followed by Oppression,
Poverty, Famine, Torture, and a dreadful train of appearances, that made
me tremble to behold them. Among the baggage of this army, I could
discover racks, wheels, chains, and gibbets, with all the instruments
art could invent to make human nature miserable.
Before the other avenue I saw Licentiousness, dressed in a garment not
unlike the Polish cassock, and leading up a whole army of monsters, such
as Clamour, with a hoarse voice and a hundred tongues; Confusion, with a
misshapen body and a thousand heads; Impudence, with a forehead of
brass; and Rapine, with hands of iron. The tumult, noise, and uproar in
this quarter were so very great, that they disturbed my imagination
more than is consistent with sleep, and by that means awaked me.
[Footnote 210: Cebes, of Thebes, was a disciple of Philolaus and
Socrates. His [Greek: Pinax] is an account of a table on which human
life, with all its temptations and dangers, is represented
symbolically.]
[Footnote 211: The Lake of Geneva.]
No. 162. [ADDISON.
From _Thursday, April 20_, to _Saturday, April 22, 1710_.
Tertius e coelo cecidit Cato.--JUV., Sat. ii. 40.
* * * * *
_From my own Apartment, April 21._
In my younger years I used many endeavours to get a place at Court, and
indeed continued my pursuits till I arrived at my grand climacteric: but
at length altogether despairing of success, whether it were for want of
capacity, friends, or due application, I at last resolved to erect a new
office, and for my encouragement, to place myself in it. For this
reason, I took upon me the title and dignity of Censor of Great Britain,
reserving to myself all such perquisites, profits, and emoluments as
should arise out of the discharge of the said office. These in truth
have not been inconsiderable; for, besides those weekly contributions
which I receive from John Morphew, and those annual subscriptions which
I propose to myself from the most elegant part of this great island, I
daily live in a very comfortable affluence of wine, stale beer, Hungary
water, beef, books, and marrow-bones, which I receive from many
well-disposed citizens; not to mention the forfeitures which accrue to
me from the several offenders that appear before me on court-days.
Having now enjoyed this office for the space of a twelve-month, I shall
do what all good officers ought to do, take a survey of my behaviour,
and consider carefully whether I have discharged my duty, and acted up
to the character with which I am invested. For my direction in this
particular, I have made a narrow search into the nature of the old
Roman censors, whom I must always regard, not only as my predecessors,
but as my patterns in this great employment; and have several times
asked my own heart with great impartiality, whether Cato will not bear a
more venerable figure among posterity than Bickerstaff.
I find the duty of the Roman censor was twofold. The first part of it
consisted in making frequent reviews of the people, in casting up their
numbers, ranging them under their several tribes, disposing them into
proper classes, and subdividing them into their respective centuries.
In compliance with this part of the office, I have taken many curious
surveys of this great city. I have collected into particular bodies the
Dappers[212] and the Smarts,[213] the Natural and Affected Rakes,[214]
the Pretty Fellows and the Very Pretty Fellows.[215] I have likewise
drawn out in several distinct parties your Pedants[216] and Men of
Fire,[217] your Gamesters[218] and Politicians.[219] I have separated
Cits from Citizens,[220] Freethinkers from Philosophers,[221] Wits from
Snuff-takers,[222] and Duellists from Men of Honour.[223] I have
likewise made a calculation of Esquires,[224] not only considering the
several distinct swarms of them that are settled in the different parts
of this town, but also that more rugged species that inhabit the fields
and woods, and are often found in pothouses, and upon haycocks.
I shall pass the soft sex over in silence, having not yet reduced them
into any tolerable order; as likewise the softer tribe of lovers, which
will cost me a great deal of time, before I shall be able to cast them
into their several centuries and subdivisions.
The second part of the Roman censor's office was to look into the
manners of the people, and to check any growing luxury, whether in diet,
dress, or building. This duty likewise I have endeavoured to discharge,
by those wholesome precepts which I have given my countrymen in regard
to beef and mutton, and the severe censures which I have passed upon
ragouts and fricassees.[225] There is not, as I am informed, a pair of
red heels[226] to be seen within ten miles of London, which I may
likewise ascribe, without vanity, to the becoming zeal which I expressed
in that particular. I must own, my success with the petticoat[227] is
not so great: but as I have not yet done with it, I hope I shall in a
little time put an effectual stop to that growing evil. As for the
article of building, I intend hereafter to enlarge upon it, having
lately observed several warehouses, nay private shops, that stand upon
Corinthian pillars, and whole rows of tin pots showing themselves, in
order to their sale, through a sash-window.
I have likewise followed the example of the Roman censors, in punishing
offences according to the quality of the offender. It was usual for them
to expel a senator who had been guilty of great immoralities out of the
senate-house, by omitting his name when they called over the list of his
brethren. In the same manner, to remove effectually several worthless
men who stand possessed of great honours, I have made frequent draughts
of dead men[228] out of the vicious part of the nobility, and given them
up to the new society of upholders, with the necessary orders for their
interment. As the Roman censors used to punish the knights or gentlemen
of Rome, by taking away their horses from them, I have seized the
canes[229] of many criminals of figure, whom I had just reason to
animadvert upon. As for the offenders among the common people of Rome,
they were generally chastised, by being thrown out of a higher tribe,
and placed in one which was not so honourable. My reader cannot but
think I have had an eye to this punishment, when I have degraded one
species of men into bombs, squibs, and crackers,[230] and another into
drums, bass-viols, and bagpipes;[231] not to mention whole packs of
delinquents whom I have shut up in kennels, and the new hospital which I
am at present erecting, for the reception of those my countrymen who
give me but little hopes of their amendment, on the borders of
Moorfields.[232] I shall only observe upon this last particular, that
since some late surveys I have taken of this island, I shall think it
necessary to enlarge the plan of the buildings which I design in this
quarter.
When my great predecessor Cato the elder stood for the Censorship of
Rome, there were several other competitors who offered themselves; and
to get an interest among the people, gave them great promises of the
mild and gentle treatment which they would use towards them in that
office. Cato on the contrary told them, he presented himself as a
candidate, because he knew the age was sunk in immorality and
corruption; and that if they would give him their votes, he would
promise them to make use of such a strictness and severity of discipline
as should recover them out of it. The Roman historians, upon this
occasion, very much celebrate the public-spiritedness of that people,
who chose Cato for their censor, notwithstanding his method of
recommending himself. I may in some measure extol my own countrymen
upon the same account, who, without any respect to party, or any
application from myself, have made such generous subscriptions for the
Censor of Great Britain, as will give a magnificence to my old age, and
which I esteem more than I would any post in Europe of a hundred times
the value. I shall only add, that upon looking into my catalogue of
subscribers, which I intend to print alphabetically in the front of my
Lucubrations, I find the names of the greatest beauties and wits in the
whole island of Great Britain, which I only mention for the benefit of
any of them who have not subscribed, it being my design to close the
subscription in a very short time.
[Footnote 212: See No. 85.]
[Footnote 213: See Nos. 26, 28.]
[Footnote 214: See Nos. 27, 143.]
[Footnote 215: See Nos. 21, 22, 24.]
[Footnote 216: See No. 158.]
[Footnote 217: See No. 61.]
[Footnote 218: See Nos. 13, 14, 15, 56, &c.]
[Footnote 219: See Nos. 40, 155.]
[Footnote 220: See No. 25.]
[Footnote 221: See Nos. 108, 111, 135.]
[Footnote 222: See Nos. 35, 141.]
[Footnote 223: See Nos. 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 39.]
[Footnote 224: See Nos. 19, 115.]
[Footnote 225: See No. 148.]
[Footnote 226: See No. 26.]
[Footnote 227: See No. 116.]
[Footnote 228: See Nos. 96, 110.]
[Footnote 229: See No. 26.]
[Footnote 230: See No. 88.]
[Footnote 231: See No. 153.]
[Footnote 232: See Nos. 62, 127.]
No. 163. [ADDISON.
From _Saturday, April 22_, to _Tuesday, April 25, 1710_.
Idem inficeto est inficetior rure,
Simul poemata attigit; neque idem unquam
AEque est beatus, ac poema cum scribit:
Tam gaudet in se, tamque se ipse miratur.
Nimirum idem omnes fallimur; neque est quisquam,
Quem non in aliqua re videre Suffenum
Possis.--CATULLUS, xxii. 14.
* * * * *
_Will's Coffee-house, April 24._
I yesterday came hither about two hours before the company generally
make their appearance, with a design to read over all the newspapers;
but upon my sitting down, I was accosted by Ned Softly, who saw me from
a corner in the other end of the room, where I found he had been writing
something. "Mr. Bickerstaff," says he, "I observe by a late paper of
yours, that you and I are just of a humour; for you must know, of all
impertinences, there is nothing which I so much hate as news. I never
read a Gazette in my life; and never trouble my head about our armies,
whether they win or lose, or in what part of the world they lie
encamped." Without giving me time to reply, he drew a paper of verses
out of his pocket, telling me, that he had something which would
entertain me more agreeably, and that he would desire my judgment upon
every line, for that we had time enough before us till the company came
in.
Ned Softly is a very pretty poet, and a great admirer of easy lines.
Waller is his favourite: and as that admirable writer has the best and
worst verses of any among our great English poets, Ned Softly has got
all the bad ones without book, which he repeats upon occasion, to show
his reading, and garnish his conversation. Ned is indeed a true English
reader, incapable of relishing the great and masterly strokes of this
art; but wonderfully pleased with the little Gothic ornaments of
epigrammatical conceits, turns, points, and quibbles, which are so
frequent in the most admired of our English poets, and practised by
those who want genius and strength to represent, after the manner of the
ancients, simplicity in its natural beauty and perfection.
Finding myself unavoidably engaged in such a conversation, I was
resolved to turn my pain into a pleasure, and to divert myself as well
as I could with so very odd a fellow. "You must understand," says Ned,
"that the sonnet I am going to read to you was written upon a lady, who
showed me some verses of her own making, and is perhaps the best poet of
our age. But you shall hear it." Upon which he began to read as
follows:
"_To Mira on her Incomparable Poems._