short, thick, lively, hard-favoured wench, of about twenty-nine years
of age, her eyes small and bleared, her nose very broad at bottom,
and turning up at the end, her mouth wide, and lips of an unusual
thickness, two teeth out before, the rest black and uneven, the tip
of her left ear being of a mouse-colour, her voice loud and shrill,
quick of speech, and something of a Welsh accent; withdrew herself
on Wednesday last from her ladyship's dwelling-house, and, with the
help of her consorts, carried off the following goods of her said
lady--viz., a thick wadded calico wrapper, a musk-coloured velvet
mantle lined with squirrel-skins, eight night-shifts, four pair of
silk stockings curiously darned, six pair of laced shoes, new and old,
with the heels of half two inches higher than their fellows; a quilted
petticoat of the largest size, and one of canvas with whalebone hoops;
three pair of stays, bolstered below the left shoulder; two pair of
hips of the newest fashion, six roundabout aprons with pockets, and
four striped muslin night-rails very little frayed; a silver pot for
coffee or chocolate, the lid much bruised; a broad-brimmed flat silver
plate for sugar with Rhenish wine, a silver ladle for plum-porridge;
a silver cheese-toaster with three tongues, an ebony handle, and
silvering at the end; a silver posnet[164] to butter eggs; one caudle
and two cordial-water cups, two cocoa cups, and an ostrich's egg,
with rims and feet of silver; a marrow spoon, with a scoop at the
other end; a silver orange-strainer, eight sweetmeat spoons made with
forks at the end, an agate-handle knife and fork in a sheath, a silver
tongue-scraper, a silver tobacco-box, with a tulip graved on the top;
and a Bible bound in shagreen, with gilt leaves and clasps, never
opened but once. Also a small cabinet, with six drawers inlaid with
red tortoise-shell, and brass gilt ornaments at the four corners, in
which were two leather forehead cloths, three pair of oiled dogskin
gloves,[165] seven cakes of superfine Spanish wool, half-a-dozen
of Portugal dishes, and a quire of paper from thence; two pair of
brand-new plumpers, four black-lead combs, three pair of fashionable
eyebrows,[166] two sets of ivory teeth, little the worse for wearing,
and one pair of box for common use; Adam and Eve in bugle-work, without
fig-leaves, upon canvas, curiously wrought with her ladyship's own
hand; several filigrane curiosities; a crochet of 122 diamonds, set
strong and deep in silver, with a rump jewel after the same fashion;
bracelets of braided hair, pomander, and seed-pearl; a large old purple
velvet purse, embroidered, and shutting with a spring, containing two
pictures in miniature, the features visible; a broad thick gold ring
with a hand in hand graved upon it, and within this posy, "While life
does last, I'll hold thee fast;" another set round with small rubies
and sparks, six wanting; another of Turkey stone[167] cracked through
the middle; an Elizabeth and four Jacobus's, one guinea the first
of the coin, an angel with a hole bored through, a broken half of a
Spanish piece of gold, a crown piece with the breeches,[168] an old
nine-pence bent both ways by Lilly,[169] the almanac maker, for luck at
langteraloo,[170] and twelve of the shells called blackamoor's teeth;
one small amber box with apoplectic balsam, and one silver gilt of a
larger size for cashu[171] and caraway comfits, to be taken at long
sermons, the lid enamelled, representing a Cupid fishing for hearts,
with a piece of gold on his hook; over his head this rhyme, "Only with
gold you me shall hold." In the lower drawer was a large new gold
repeating watch, made by a Frenchman; a gold chain, and all the proper
appurtenances hung upon steel swivels, to wit, lockets with the hair
of dead and living lovers, seals with arms, emblems and devices cut in
cornelian, agate, and onyx, with Cupids, hearts, darts, altars, flames,
rocks, pick-axes, roses, thorns, and sun-flowers; as also variety
of ingenious French mottoes; together with gold etuis for quills,
scissors, needles, thimbles, and a sponge dipped in Hungary water, left
but the night before by a young lady going upon a frolic incog. There
was also a bundle of letters, dated between the years 1670 and 1682,
most of them signed Philander, the rest Strephon, Amyntas, Corydon,
and Adonis; together with a collection of receipts to make pastes for
the hands, pomatums, lip-salves, white-pots,[172] beautifying creams,
water of talc,[173] and frog spawn water; decoctions for clearing the
complexion, and an approved medicine to procure abortion.
Whoever can discover the aforesaid goods, so that they may be had
again, shall have fifty guineas for the whole, or proportionable for
any part. _N.B._--Her ladyship is pleased to promise ten pounds for the
packet of letters over and above, or five for Philander's only, being
her first love. My lady bestows those of Strephon to the finder, being
so written, that they may serve to any woman who reads them.
POSTSCRIPT.
As I am patron of persons who have no other friend to apply to, I
cannot suppress the following complaint:
* * * * *
"SIR,
"I am a blackamoor boy, and have, by my lady's order, been christened
by the chaplain. The good man has gone further with me, and told me a
great deal of good news; as, that I am as good as my lady herself, as
I am a Christian, and many other things: but, for all this, the parrot
who came over with me from our country is as much esteemed by her as I
am. Besides this, the shock-dog has a collar that cost almost as much
as mine.[174] I desire also to know, whether now I am a Christian, I am
obliged to dress like a Turk and wear a turban. I am,
"Sir,
"Your most humble Servant,
"POMPEY."
FOOTNOTES:
[162] See No. 224.
[163] See No. 109.
[164] A small basin. Bacon speaks of utensils which will endure fire,
such as "chafing-dishes, posnets, and such other silver dishes."
[165] The cloths and gloves were to soften the skin; the Spanish wool
and Portugal dishes for "complexions"; the plumpers for the cheeks. The
black-lead combs were for darkening the hair. By ivory and box teeth,
tooth-combs are probably intended (Dobson). Perhaps, however, the
"teeth" are artificial teeth.
[166] _Cf._ Steele's "The Tender Husband," act iii. sc. I: "Prithee,
wench, bring me my black eyebrows out of the next room." Prior often
refers to this subject-thus:
"The slattern had left in the hurry and haste
Her lady's complexion and eyebrows at Calais;"
and when the kitten had stolen Helen's eyebrows, a trap was at once
baited:
"If we don't catch a mouse to-night,
Alas! no eyebrows for to-morrow!"
[167] Turquoise.
[168] The two shields on Oliver Cromwell's coins were vulgarly called
"breeches," because they somewhat resembled vast trunk-hose.
[169] See No. 240.
[170] Lanterloo, lantrillou, or lanctreloo, a game at cards in which
the knave of clubs is the highest card. Cf. _lanturloo_ (Fr.),
nonsense. The game is mentioned, says Strutt, in the "Complete
Gamester" (1734). In a letter in the _Spectator_, No. 245, we find the
following: "I would have these sports and pastimes not only merry,
but innocent, for which reason I have not mentioned either whisk or
lanterloo, nor indeed so much as one-and-thirty."
[171] Cachou, for sweetening the breath.
[172] A spiced custard pudding formerly a favourite dish in Devonshire.
See _Spectator_, No. 109, and Gay's "Shepherd's Week" (Monday):
"White-pot thick is my Buxoma's fare."
[173] A cosmetic.
[174] On the black marble bust of the favourite slave of William III.,
at Hampton Court, there is a white marble collar, with a padlock.
Contemporary advertisements show that negro servants often wore a
collar bearing the name of their master. In No. 132 of the original
issue of the _Tatler_ there was this advertisement: "A black Indian
boy, twelve years of age, fit to wait on a gentleman, to be disposed
of at Denis's Coffee-house, in Finch Lane, near the Royal Exchange."
The reward offered for the recovery of a runaway black servant rarely
exceeded a guinea.
=No. 246.= [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Nov. 2_, to _Saturday, Nov. 4, 1710_.
----Vitiis nemo sine nascitur, optimus ille est
Qui minimis urgetur.----
HOR., 1 Sat. iii. 68.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 3._
When one considers the turn which conversation takes in almost every
set of acquaintance, club or assembly, in this town or kingdom, one
cannot but observe, that in spite of what I am every day saying, and
all the moral writers since the beginning of the world have said, the
subject of discourse is generally upon one another's faults. This in
a great measure proceeds from self-conceit, which were to be endured
in one or other individual person; but the folly has spread itself
almost over all the species; and one cannot only say, Tom, Jack, or
Will, but in general, that man is a coxcomb. From this source it is
that any excellence is faintly received, any imperfection unmercifully
exposed. But if things were put in a true light, and we would take
time to consider that man in his very nature is an imperfect being,
our sense of this matter would be immediately altered, and the
word "imperfection" would not carry an unkinder idea than the word
"humanity." It is a pleasant story, that we, forsooth, who are the only
imperfect creatures in the universe, are the only beings that will not
allow of imperfection. Somebody has taken notice, that we stand in the
middle of existences, and are by this one circumstance the most unhappy
of all others. The brutes are guided by instinct, and know no sorrow;
the angels have knowledge, and they are happy; but men are governed by
opinion, which is I know not what mixture of instinct and knowledge,
and are neither indolent nor happy. It is very observable, that
critics are a people between the learned and the ignorant, and by that
situation enjoy the tranquillity of neither. As critics stand among
men, so do men in general between brutes and angels. Thus every man as
he is a critic and a coxcomb, till improved by reason and speculation,
is ever forgetting himself, and laying open the faults of others.
At the same time that I am talking of the cruelty of urging people's
faults with severity, I cannot but bewail some which men are guilty
of for want of admonition. These are such as they can easily mend,
and nobody tells them of; for which reason I shall make use of the
penny-post (as I have with success to several young ladies about
turning their eyes, and holding up their heads) to certain gentlemen
whom I remark habitually guilty of what they may reform in a moment.
There is a fat fellow whom I have long remarked wearing his breast
open in the midst of winter, out of an affectation of youth. I have
therefore sent him just now the following letter in my physical
capacity:
* * * * *
"SIR,
"From the twentieth instant to the first of May next, both days
inclusive, I beg of you to button your waistcoat from your collar to
your waistband. I am,
"Your most humble Servant,
"ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, _Philomath_."[175]
There is a very handsome well-shaped youth that frequents the
coffee-houses about Charing Cross, and ties a very pretty ribbon with
a cross of jewels at his breast.[176] This being something new, and a
thing in which the gentleman may offend the Heralds' Office, I have
addressed myself to him as I am censor:
* * * * *
"DEAR COUNTRYMAN,
"Was that ensign of honour which you wear, given you by a prince or a
lady that you have served? If you bear it as an absent lover, please to
hang it on a black ribbon; if as a rewarded soldier, you may have my
licence to continue the red.
"Your faithful Servant,
"BICKERSTAFF, _Censor_."
These little intimations do great service, and are very useful, not
only to the persons themselves, but to inform others how to conduct
themselves towards them.
Instead of this honest private method, or a friendly one face to face,
of acquainting people with things in their power to explain or amend,
the usual way among people is to take no notice of things you can help,
and nevertheless expose you for those you cannot.
Plumbeus and Levis are constantly in each other's company: they would,
if they took proper methods, be very agreeable companions; but they so
extravagantly aim at what they are unfit for, and each of them rallies
the other so much in the wrong place, that instead of doing each other
the offices of friends, they do but instruct the rest of the world to
laugh at them with more knowledge and skill. Plumbeus is of a saturnine
and sullen complexion; Levis, of a mercurial and airy disposition.
Both these gentlemen have but very slow parts, but would make a very
good figure, did they pursue what they ought. If Plumbeus would take
to business, he would in a few years know the forms of orders so well,
as to direct and dictate with so much ease, as to be thought a solid,
able, and at the same time a sure man of despatch. Levis, with a little
reading and coming more into company, would soon be able to write a
song, or lead up a country-dance. Instead of these proper pursuits, in
obedience to their respective geniuses, Plumbeus endeavours to be the
man of pleasure, and Levis the man of business. This appears in their
speech, and in their dress: Plumbeus is ever egregiously fine, and
talking something like wit; Levis is ever extremely grave, and with a
silly face repeating maxims. These two pardon each other for affecting
what each is incapable of, the one to be wise, and the other gay; but
are extremely critical in their judgments of each other in their way
towards what they pretend to. Plumbeus acknowledges Levis a man of a
great reach, because it is what Plumbeus never cared for being thought
himself; and Levis allows Plumbeus to be an agreeable rake for the same
reason. Now were these dear friends to be free with each other as they
ought to be, they would change characters, and be both as commendable,
instead of being as ridiculous, as their capacities will admit of.
Were it not too grave, all that I would urge on this subject is,
that men are bewildered when they consider themselves in any other
view than that of strangers, who are in a place where it is no great
matter whether they can, or unreasonable to expect they should, have
everything about them as well as at their own home. This way of
thinking is, perhaps, the only one that can put this being into a
proper posture for the ease of society. It is certain, this would
reduce all faults into those which proceed from malice or dishonesty:
it would quite change our manner of beholding one another, and nothing
that was not below a man's nature would be below his character. The
arts of this life would be proper advances towards the next; and a
very good man would be a very fine gentleman. As it now is, human life
is inverted, and we have not learned half the knowledge of this world
before we are dropping into another. Thus, instead of the raptures
and contemplations which naturally attend a well-spent life from the
approach of eternity, even we old fellows are afraid of the ridicule of
those who are born since us, and ashamed not to understand, as well as
peevish to resign, the mode, the fashion, the ladies, the fiddles, the
balls, and what not. Dick Reptile, who does not want humour, is very
pleasant at our club when he sees an old fellow touchy at being laughed
at for anything that is not in the mode, and bawls in his ear, "Prithee
don't mind him; tell him thou art mortal."
FOOTNOTES:
[175] See No. 95.
[176] Possibly Colonel Ambrose Edgworth, a great dandy, whom Swift
calls "that prince of puppies" ("Journal to Stella," Oct. 17, 1710).
=No. 247.= [STEELE.
By JENNY DISTAFF, HALF-SISTER
TO MR. BICKERSTAFF.
From _Saturday, Nov. 4_, to _Tuesday, Nov. 7, 1710_.
Ædepol, næ nos sumus ... æque omnes invisæ viris,
Propter paucas; quæ omnes faciunt dignæ ut videamur malo.
TER., Hecyra, act ii. sc. 3.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 6._
My brother, having written the above piece of Latin, desired me to take
care of the rest of the ensuing paper. Towards this he bid me answer
the following letter, and said, nothing I could write properly on the
subject of it would be disagreeable to the motto. It is the cause of my
sex, and I therefore enter upon it with great alacrity. The epistle is
literally thus:
* * * * *
_Edinburgh, Oct. 23_.
"Mr. BICKERSTAFF,
"I presume to lay before you an affair of mine, and begs you'le be very
sinceir in giving me your judgment and advice in this matter, which is
as followes:
"A very agreeable young gentleman, who is endowed with all the good
quallities that can make a man compleat, has this long time maid love
to me in the most passionat manner that was posable. He has left
nothing unsaid to make me belive his affections real; and in his
letters expressed himself so hansomly, and so tenderly, that I had all
the reason imaginable to belive him sinceir. In short, he positively
has promised me he would marry me: but I find all he said nothing; for
when the question was put to him, he wouldn't; but still would continue
my humble servant, and would go on at the ould rate, repeating the
assurences of his fidelity (and at the same time has none in him). He
now writs to me in the same endearing style he ust to do, would have
me spake to no man but himself. His estate is in his oune hand, his
father being dead. My fortune at my oune disposal (mine being also
dead), and to the full answers his estate. Pray, sir, be ingeinous, and
tell me cordially, if you don't think I shall do myself an injurey if I
keep company or a corospondance any longer with this gentleman. I hope
you'le faver an honest North Briton (as I am) with your advice in this
amoure; for I am resolved just to folow your directions. Sir, you'le
do me a sensable pleasure, and very great honour, if you'le pleas to
insirt this poor scrole, with your answer to it, in your _Tatler_. Pray
fail not to give me your answer; for on it depends the happiness of
"DISCONSOLAT ALMEIRA."
* * * * *
"MADAM,
"I have frequently read over your letter, and am of opinion, that as
lamentable as it is, it is the most common of any evil that attends
our sex. I am very much troubled for the tenderness you express
towards your lover, but rejoice at the same time that you can so far
surmount your inclination for him as to resolve to dismiss him when you
have my brother's opinion for it. His sense of the matter he desired
me to communicate to you. O Almeira! the common failing of our sex
is to value the merit of our lovers rather from the grace of their
address than the sincerity of their hearts. 'He has expressed himself
so handsomely!' Can you say that after you have reason to doubt his
truth? It is a very melancholy thing, that in this circumstance of love
(which is the most important of all others in female life) we women,
who are, they say, always weak, are still weakest. The true way of
valuing a man, is to consider his reputation among the men: for want of
this necessary rule towards our conduct, when it is too late we find
ourselves married to the outcasts of that sex; and it is generally from
being disagreeable among men, that fellows endeavour to make themselves
pleasing to us. The little accomplishments of coming into a room with
a good air, and telling while they are with us what we cannot hear
among ourselves, usually make up the whole of a woman's man's merit.
But if we, when we began to reflect upon our lovers, in the first place
considered what figures they make in the camp, at the bar, on the
'Change, in their country, or at court, we should behold them in quite
another view than at present.
"Were we to behave ourselves according to this rule, we should not
have the just imputation of favouring the silliest of mortals, to the
great scandal of the wisest, who value our favour as it advances their
pleasure, not their reputation. In a word, madam, if you would judge
aright in love, you must look upon it as in a case of friendship. Were
this gentleman treating with you for anything but yourself, when you
had consented to his offer, if he fell off, you would call him a cheat
and an impostor. There is therefore nothing left for you to do, but to
despise him and yourself for doing with regret.
"I am,
"Madam, &c."
I have heard it often argued in conversation, that this evil practice
is owing to the perverted taste of the wits in the last generation. A
libertine on the throne could very easily make the language and the
fashion turn his own way. Hence it is, that woman is treated as a
mistress, and not a wife. It is from the writings of those times, and
the traditional accounts of the debauches of their men of pleasure,
that the coxcombs nowadays take upon them, forsooth, to be false swains
and perjured lovers. Methinks I feel all the woman rise in me, when I
reflect upon the nauseous rogues that pretend to deceive us. Wretches,
that can never have it in their power to overreach anything living
but their mistresses! In the name of goodness, if we are designed by
nature as suitable companions to the other sex, why are we not treated
accordingly? If we have merit, as some allow, why is it not as base
in men to injure us as one another? If we are the insignificants
that others call us, where is the triumph in deceiving us? But when
I look at the bottom of this disaster, and recollect the many of my
acquaintance whom I have known in the same condition with the Northern
lass that occasions this discourse, I must own I have ever found the
perfidiousness of men has been generally owing to ourselves, and we
have contributed to our own deceit. The truth is, we do not conduct
ourselves as we are courted, but as we are inclined. When we let
our imaginations take this unbridled swing, it is not he that acts
best is most lovely, but he that is most lovely acts best. When our
humble servants make their addresses, we do not keep ourselves enough
disengaged to be judges of their merit; and we seldom give our judgment
of our lover, till we have lost our judgment for him.
While Clarinda was passionately attended and addressed to by Strephon,
who is a man of sense and knowledge in the world, and Cassio, who has
a plentiful fortune and an excellent understanding, she fell in love
with Damon at a ball: from that moment she that was before the most
reasonable creature of all my acquaintance, cannot hear Strephon speak,
but it is something "so out of the way of ladies' conversation;" and
Cassio has never since opened his mouth before us, but she whispers me,
"How seldom do riches and sense go together!" The issue of all this is,
that for the love of Damon, who has neither experience, understanding,
or wealth, she despises those advantages in the other two which she
finds wanting in her lover; or else thinks he has them for no reason
but because he is her lover. This and many other instances may be given
in this town; but I hope thus much may suffice to prevent the growth of
such evils at Edinburgh.
=No. 248.= [STEELE.
By ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq.
From _Tuesday, Nov. 7_, to _Thursday, Nov. 9, 1710_.
----Media sese tulit obvia silva,
Virginis os habitumque gerens----
VIRG., Æn. i. 314.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 8._
It may perhaps appear ridiculous; but I must confess, this last
summer as I was riding in Enfield Chase, I met a young lady whom
I could hardly get out of my head, and for aught I know my heart,
ever since.[177] She was mounted on a pad, with a very well-fancied
furniture. She sat her horse with a very graceful air; and when I
saluted her with my hat, she bowed to me so obligingly, that whether
it was her civility or beauty that touched me so much, I know not, but
I am sure I shall never forget her. She dwells in my imagination in a
figure so much to her advantage, that if I were to draw a picture of
youth, health, beauty, or modesty, I should represent any or all of
them in the person of that young woman.