R.

[Footnote 1: Pharamond, or _Faramond_, was the subject of one of

the romances of M. de Costes de la Calprenède, published at Paris (12

vols.) in 1661. It was translated into English (folio) by J. Phillips in

1677.]

* * * * *

No. 77. Tuesday, May 29, 1711. Budgell.

'Non convivere licet, nec urbe tota

Quisquam est tam propè tam proculque nobis.'

Mart.

My Friend WILL HONEYCOMB is one of those Sort of Men who are very often

absent in Conversation, and what the _French_ call _a reveur_ and _a

distrait_. A little before our Club-time last Night we were walking

together in _Somerset_ Garden, where WILL, had picked up a small Pebble

of so odd a Make, that he said he would present it to a Friend of his,

an eminent _Virtuoso_. After we had walked some time, I made a full stop

with my Face towards the West, which WILL, knowing to be my usual Method

of asking what's a Clock, in an Afternoon, immediately pulled out his

Watch, and told me we had seven Minutes good. We took a turn or two

more, when, to my great Surprize, I saw him squirr away his Watch a

considerable way into the _Thames_, and with great Sedateness in his

Looks put up the Pebble, he had before found, in his Fob. As I have

naturally an Aversion to much Speaking, and do not love to be the

Messenger of ill News, especially when it comes too late to be useful, I

left him to be convinced of his Mistake in due time, and continued my

Walk, reflecting on these little Absences and Distractions in Mankind,

and resolving to make them the Subject of a future Speculation.

I was the more confirmed in my Design, when I considered that they were

very often Blemishes in the Characters of Men of excellent Sense; and

helped to keep up the Reputation of that Latin Proverb, [1] which Mr.

_Dryden_ has Translated in the following Lines:

_Great Wit to Madness sure is near ally'd,

And thin Partitions do their Bounds divide._

My Reader does, I hope, perceive, that I distinguish a Man who is

_Absent_, because he thinks of something else, from one who is _Absent_,

because he thinks of nothing at all: The latter is too innocent a

Creature to be taken notice of; but the Distractions of the former may,

I believe, be generally accounted for from one of these Reasons.

Either their Minds are wholly fixed on some particular Science, which is

often the Case of Mathematicians and other learned Men; or are wholly

taken up with some Violent Passion, such as Anger, Fear, or Love, which

ties the Mind to some distant Object; or, lastly, these Distractions

proceed from a certain Vivacity and Fickleness in a Man's Temper, which

while it raises up infinite Numbers of _Ideas_ in the Mind, is

continually pushing it on, without allowing it to rest on any particular

Image. Nothing therefore is more unnatural than the Thoughts and

Conceptions of such a Man, which are seldom occasioned either by the

Company he is in, or any of those Objects which are placed before him.

While you fancy he is admiring a beautiful Woman, 'tis an even Wager

that he is solving a Proposition in _Euclid_; and while you may imagine

he is reading the _Paris_ Gazette, it is far from being impossible, that

he is pulling down and rebuilding the Front of his Country-house.

At the same time that I am endeavouring to expose this Weakness in

others, I shall readily confess that I once laboured under the same

Infirmity myself. The Method I took to conquer it was a firm Resolution

to learn something from whatever I was obliged to see or hear. There is

a way of Thinking if a Man can attain to it, by which he may strike

somewhat out of any thing. I can at present observe those Starts of good

Sense and Struggles of unimproved Reason in the Conversation of a Clown,

with as much Satisfaction as the most shining Periods of the most

finished Orator; and can make a shift to command my Attention at a

_Puppet-Show_ or an _Opera_, as well as at _Hamlet_ or _Othello_. I

always make one of the Company I am in; for though I say little myself,

my Attention to others, and those Nods of Approbation which I never

bestow unmerited, sufficiently shew that I am among them. Whereas WILL.

HONEYCOMB, tho' a Fellow of good Sense, is every Day doing and saying an

hundred Things which he afterwards confesses, with a well-bred

Frankness, were somewhat _mal a propos_, and undesigned.

I chanced the other Day to go into a Coffee-house, where WILL, was

standing in the midst of several Auditors whom he had gathered round

him, and was giving them an Account of the Person and Character of _Moll

Hinton_. My Appearance before him just put him in mind of me, without

making him reflect that I was actually present. So that keeping his Eyes

full upon me, to the great Surprize of his Audience, he broke off his

first Harangue, and proceeded thus:

'Why now there's my Friend (mentioning me by my Name) he is a Fellow

that thinks a great deal, but never opens his Mouth; I warrant you he

is now thrusting his short Face into some Coffee-house about

_'Change_. I was his Bail in the time of the _Popish-Plot_, when he

was taken up for a Jesuit.'

If he had looked on me a little longer, he had certainly described me so

particularly, without ever considering what led him into it, that the

whole Company must necessarily have found me out; for which Reason,

remembering the old Proverb, _Out of Sight out of Mind_, I left the

Room; and upon meeting him an Hour afterwards, was asked by him, with a

great deal of Good-humour, in what Part of the World I had lived, that

he had not seen me these three Days.

Monsieur _Bruyere_ has given us the Character of _an absent_ Man [2],

with a great deal of Humour, which he has pushed to an agreeable

Extravagance; with the Heads of it I shall conclude my present Paper.

'_Menalcas_ (says that excellent Author) comes down in a Morning,

opens his Door to go out, but shuts it again, because he perceives

that he has his Night-cap on; and examining himself further finds that

he is but half-shaved, that he has stuck his Sword on his right Side,

that his Stockings are about his Heels, and that his Shirt is over his

Breeches. When he is dressed he goes to Court, comes into the

Drawing-room, and walking bolt-upright under a Branch of Candlesticks

his Wig is caught up by one of them, and hangs dangling in the Air.

All the Courtiers fall a laughing, but _Menalcas_ laughs louder than

any of them, and looks about for the Person that is the Jest of the

Company. Coming down to the Court-gate he finds a Coach, which taking

for his own, he whips into it; and the Coachman drives off, not

doubting but he carries his Master. As soon as he stops, _Menalcas_

throws himself out of the Coach, crosses the Court, ascends the

Staircase, and runs thro' all the Chambers with the greatest

Familiarity, reposes himself on a Couch, and fancies himself at home.

The Master of the House at last comes in, _Menalcas_ rises to receive

him, and desires him to sit down; he talks, muses, and then talks

again. The Gentleman of the House is tired and amazed; _Menalcas_ is

no less so, but is every Moment in Hopes that his impertinent Guest

will at last end his tedious Visit. Night comes on, when _Menalcas_ is

hardly undeceived.

When he is playing at Backgammon, he calls for a full Glass of Wine

and Water; 'tis his turn to throw, he has the Box in one Hand and his

Glass in the other, and being extremely dry, and unwilling to lose

Time, he swallows down both the Dice, and at the same time throws his

Wine into the Tables. He writes a Letter, and flings the Sand into the

Ink-bottle; he writes a second, and mistakes the Superscription: A

Nobleman receives one of them, and upon opening it reads as follows:

_I would have you, honest Jack, immediately upon the Receipt of this,

take in Hay enough to serve me the Winter._ His Farmer receives the

other and is amazed to see in it, _My Lord, I received your Grace's

Commands with an entire Submission to_--If he is at an Entertainment,

you may see the Pieces of Bread continually multiplying round his

Plate: 'Tis true the rest of the Company want it, as well as their

Knives and Forks, which _Menalcas_ does not let them keep long.

Sometimes in a Morning he puts his whole Family in an hurry, and at

last goes out without being able to stay for his Coach or Dinner, and

for that Day you may see him in every Part of the Town, except the

very Place where he had appointed to be upon a Business of Importance.

You would often take him for every thing that he is not; for a Fellow

quite stupid, for he hears nothing; for a Fool, for he talks to

himself, and has an hundred Grimaces and Motions with his Head, which

are altogether involuntary; for a proud Man, for he looks full upon

you, and takes no notice of your saluting him: The Truth on't is, his

Eyes are open, but he makes no use of them, and neither sees you, nor

any Man, nor any thing else: He came once from his Country-house, and

his own Footman undertook to rob him, and succeeded: They held a

Flambeau to his Throat, and bid him deliver his Purse; he did so, and

coming home told his Friends he had been robbed; they desired to know

the Particulars, _Ask my Servants, _says_ Menalcas, for they were with

me_.

The Spectator, Volume 1 Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays · 第 195 / 351 题