I remember Ménage,[3] 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 talked 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 used in that manner. The lady is convinced, and they laugh at
the oddness of the adventure. She now calls to mind several passages,
which confirm 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 _éclaircissement_." This, as I take it, is exactly the case
with Mr. S[tee]le, the pretended "TATLER" from Morphew, and myself, only
(I presume) the world will be sooner undeceived than the lady in Ménage.
The very day my last paper came out, my printer brought me another of the
same date, called "The Tatler," by Isaac Bickerstaff Esq; and, which was
still more pleasant, with an advertisement[4] 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 determined 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 suffered from the
little malice of these men, and my retirement in the country, the
pleasures I have received from the same occasion, will fairly balance 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 opened to me a new fund of unreproved follies and errors that
have hitherto lain out of my view, and, by their situation, escaped my
censure. For, as I have lived generally in town, the images I had of the
country were such only as my senses received very early, and my memory
has since preserved with all the advantages they first appeared in.
Hence it was that I thought our parish church the noblest structure in
England, and the Squire's Place-House, as we called it, a most
magnificent palace. I had the same opinion of the alms-house in the
churchyard, and of a bridge over the brook that parts our parish from the
next. It was 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 lessened almost out of my knowledge. I looked with contempt
on the tribes painted on the church walls, which I once so much admired,
and on the carved chimneypiece in the Squire's Hall. I found my old
master to be a poor ignorant pedant; and, in short, the whole scene to be
extremely changed for the worse. This I could not help mentioning,
because though it be of no consequence in itself, yet it is 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 falsehood. 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 imagined to be inherent in country-people. I soon
observed it was with them and us, as they say of animals; That every
species at land has one to resemble it at sea; for it was 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 coffeehouses,
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 misplaced, and imagined what a
figure he might make in Westminster-Hall. Goodman Crop of Compton Farm,
wants nothing but a plum and a gold chain to qualify him for the
government of the City. My kinsman's stable-boy was a gibing companion
that would always have his jest. He would often put cow-itch in the
maids' beds, pull stools from under folks, and lay a coal upon their
shoes when they were asleep. He was at last turned 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 matched all the sharpers between St. James's
and Covent Garden, with a notable fellow in the same neighbourhood,
(since hanged for picking pockets at fairs) could he have had the
advantages of their education. So nearly are the corruptions of the
country allied to those of the town, with no further difference than what
is made by another turn of thought and method of living!
[Footnote 1: "A reverend aspect, and a countenance formed to command,
have power to restrain some people; while others, who pay no regard to
those, are prevailed upon by the dint of writing, and the authority of a
great name." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: _I.e._ 1710-11. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: Gilles Ménage (1613-1692). The story is given in "Menagiana"
(vol. ii. pp. 49-51, second edition, 1695). C. Sorel, however, in his
"Francion" (1623) tells a similar story of a poet named Saluste, who
was fooled in like manner. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 4: Morphew's "Tatler" for January 13th, 1710 (No. 276),
contains the following: "Whereas an advertisement was yesterday delivered
out by the author of the late 'Female Tatler,' insinuating, [according to
his custom] that he is Isaac Bickerstaff Esq.; This is to give notice,
that this paper is continued to be sold by John Morphew as formerly,"
etc.
"The Female Tatler, by Mrs. Crackenthorpe, a Lady that knows every thing,"
had been begun July 8th, 1709, but was now defunct. [T.S.]]
THE TATLER, No. 5.
----_Laceratque, trahitque_
_Molle pecus_ VIR.[1]