CHAPTER XI.

ENGLISH ESSAYISTS OF THE GEORGIAN ERA.

Early Essayists whose Writings have furnished Thackeray with the

Accessories of Portions of his Novels and Lectures -- Works from

the Novelist's Library, elucidating his Course of Reading for the

Preparation of his 'Lectures' -- 'Henry Esmond,' 'The

Virginians,' &c. -- Characteristic Passages from the Lucubrations

of the Essayists of the Augustan Era illustrated with original

marginal Sketches, suggested by the Text, by Thackeray's Hand --

The 'Tatler' -- Its History and Influence -- Reforms introduced

by the purer Style of the Essayists -- The Literature of Queen

Anne's Reign -- Thackeray's Love for the Writings of that Period

-- His Gift of reproducing their masterly and simple Style of

Composition; their Irony, and playful Humour -- Extracts from

notable Essays; illustrated with original Pencillings from the

Series of the 'Tatler,' 1709.

The commencement of the eighteenth century has been christened the

Augustan Era of English literature, from the brilliant assembly of

writers, pre-eminent for their wit, genius, and cultivation, who then

enriched our literature with a perfectly original school of humour.

[Illustration]

The essayists, to whose accomplished parts we are indebted for the

'Tatlers,' 'Spectators,' 'Guardians,' 'Humorists,' 'Worlds,'

'Connoisseurs,' 'Mirrors,' 'Adventurers,' 'Observers,' 'Loungers,'

'Lookers-on,' 'Ramblers,' and kindred papers, which picture the

many-coloured scenes of our society and literature, have conferred a

lasting benefit upon posterity by the sterling merit of their

writings. It has been justly said that these essays, by their

intrinsic worth, have outlived many revolutions of taste, and have

attained unrivalled popularity and classic fame, while multitudes of

their contemporaries, successors, and imitators have perished with the

accidents or caprices of fashion.

The general purpose of the essayists as laid down by Steele, who may

be considered foremost among the originators of the familiar school of

writing, 'was to expose the false arts of life, to pull off the

disguises of cunning, vanity, and affectation, and to recommend a

general simplicity in our dress, our discourse, and our behaviour.'

Bickerstaff's lucubrations were directed to good-humoured exposures of

those freaks and vagaries of life, 'too trivial for the chastisement

of the law and too fantastical for the cognisance of the pulpit,' of

those failings, according to Addison's summary of their purpose in the

'Spectator' (No. 34), thus harmonised by Pope:--

Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne,

Yet touched and shamed by Ridicule alone.

The graceful philosophers, polished wits and playful satirists exerted

their abilities to supply 'those temporary demands and casual

exigencies, overlooked by graver writers and more bulky theorists,' to

bring, in the language of Addison, 'philosophy out of closets and

libraries, schools and colleges, to dwell in clubs and assemblies, at

tea-tables and in coffee-houses.'

'The method of conveying cheap and easy knowledge began among us in

the civil wars, when it was much the interest of either party to raise

and fix the prejudices of the people.' It was in this spirit that the

oft-mentioned Mercuries, 'Mercurius Aulicus,' 'Mercurius Rusticus,'

and 'Mercurius Civicus' first appeared.

A hint of the original plan of the 'Tatler' may in some degree be

traced to Defoe's 'Review; consisting of a Scandal Club, on Questions

of Theology, Morals, Politics, Trade, Language, Poetry, &c.,'

published about the year 1703.

'The "Tatler,"' writes Dr. Chalmers, 'like many other ancient

superstructures, rose from small beginnings. It does not appear that

the author (Steele) foresaw to what perfection this method of writing

could be brought. By dividing each paper into compartments, he appears

to have consulted the ease with which an author may say a little upon

many subjects, who has neither leisure nor inclination to enter deeply

on a single topic. This, however, did not proceed either from distrust

in his abilities, or in the favour of the public; for he at once

addressed them with confidence and familiarity; but it is probable

that he did not foresee to what perfection the continued practice of

writing will frequently lead a man whose natural endowments are wit

and eloquence, superadded to a knowledge of the world, and a habit of

observation.'

The first number of the 'Tatler' bore the motto,

Quicquid agunt homines--

nostri est farrago libelli.--Juv. Sat. I. 85, 86.

Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,

Our motley paper seizes for its theme.

The original sheet appeared on Tuesday, April 12, 1709,[13] and the

days of its publication were fixed to be Tuesdays, Thursdays, and

Saturdays. 'In the selection of a name for the work, Steele affords an

early instance of delicate raillery, by informing us that the name

"Tatler" was invented in _honour_ of the fair sex; and that in such a

character he might indulge with impunity the desultory plan he first

laid down, with a becoming imitation of the tattle and gossip of the

day.' The first four numbers were given gratis, the price was then

fixed at a penny, which was afterwards doubled.

Steele, whose humour was most happily adapted to his task, assumed as

censor of manners the alias of Isaac Bickerstaff. 'Throughout the

whole work,' writes Beattie, 'the conjuror, the politician, the man of

humour, the critic; the seriousness of the moralist, and the mock

dignity of the astrologer; the vivacities and infirmities peculiar to

old age, are all so blended and contrasted in the censor of Great

Britain as to form a character equally complex and natural, equally

laughable and respectable,' and as the editor declares, in his proper

person, 'the attacks upon prevailing and fashionable vices had been

carried forward by Mr. Bickerstaff with a freedom of spirit that would

have lost its attraction and efficacy, had it been pretended to by

_Mr. Steele_.'

A scarce pamphlet, attributed to Gay, draws attention to the high

moral and philosophic purpose which was entertained originally. 'There

was this difference between Steele and all the rest of the polite and

gallant authors of the time: the latter endeavoured to please the age

by falling in with them, and encouraging them in their fashionable

vices and false notions of things. It would have been a jest some time

since for a man to have asserted that anything witty could have been

said in praise of a married state; or that devotion and virtue were

any way necessary to the character of a fine gentleman. Bickerstaff

ventured to tell the town that they were a parcel of fops, fools, and

vain coquettes; but in such a manner as even pleased them, and made

them more than half inclined to believe that he spoke truth.'

The humorists of the Augustan era were, as the world knows, peculiar

objects of regard to the great writer of 'Roundabout Essays' in the

age of Queen Victoria. Novels, lectures, and reviews alike prove the

industry and affection with which Thackeray conducted his researches

amidst the veins of singular richness and congenial material opened to

him by the lives and writings of these famous essayists, in such

profusion that selection became a point of real art.

It is not difficult to trace the results of Thackeray's reading among

his favourite writers, or to watch its influence on his own

compositions. Nor did his regard for these sources of inspiration pass

the bounds of reasonable admiration; he argues convincingly of the

authentic importance of his chosen authorities.

From his minute and intelligent studies of the works of these genial

humorists Thackeray acquired a remarkable facility of thinking,

spontaneously acknowledged by all his contemporaries, with the

felicitous aptitude of the originals, and learned to express his

conceptions in language simple, lucid, and sparkling as the

outpourings from those pure fonts for which his eagerness may be said

to have been unquenched to the end of his career.

That artist-like local colouring which gives such scholarly value to

'Henry Esmond,' to the 'Virginians,' to the 'Humorists of the

Eighteenth Century,' and which was no less manifest in the work which

engaged his thoughts when Death lightly touched the novelist's hand,

furnishes the evidence of Thackeray's familiarity with, and command

of, the quaintest, wittiest, wisest, and pleasantest writings in our

language.

It will be felt by readers who realise Thackeray in his familiar

association with the kindred early humorists, that the merry passages

his pencil has italicised by droll marginal sketches are, with all

their suggestive slightness, in no degree unworthy of the conceits to

which they give a new interest; while in some cases, with playful

whimsicality, they present a reading entirely novel. The fidelity of

costume and appointments, even in this miniature state, confirms the

diligence and thought with which the author of 'Henry Esmond' pursued

every detail which illustrated his cherished period, and which might

serve as a basis for its consistent reconstruction, to carry his

reader far back up the stream of time.

The necessity of compressing within the limits of this volume our

selections from the comparatively exhaustless field of the humorous

essayists, necessarily renders the paragraphs elucidated by

Thackeray's quaint etchings somewhat fragmentary and abrupt, while the

miscellaneous nature of the topics thus indiscriminately touched on

may be best set forth according to the advertisement with which Swift

ushered in his memorable 'Number One':

'All accounts of gallantry, pleasure, and entertainment shall be under

the article of _White's Chocolate-house_;[14] poetry, under that of

_Will's Coffee-house_;[15] learning, under the title of _Grecian_;[16]

foreign and domestic news, you will have from _Saint James's

Coffee-house_; and what else I have to offer on any other subject

shall be dated from my own apartment.[17]

'I once more desire my reader to consider, that as I cannot keep an

ingenious man to go daily to Will's under twopence each day, merely

for his charges; to White's, under sixpence; nor to the Grecian,

without allowing him some plain Spanish, to be as able as others at

the learned table; and that a good observer cannot speak with even

Kidney (the waiter) at St. James's without clean linen; I say, these

considerations will, I hope, make all persons willing to comply with

my humble request (when my _gratis_ stock is exhausted) of a penny

apiece; especially since they are sure of some proper amusement, and

that it is impossible for me to want means to entertain them, having,

besides the force of my own parts, the power of divination, and that I

can, by casting a figure, tell you all that may happen before it comes

to pass.'

No. 5. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 21, 1709_.

Who names that lost thing love without a tear,

Since so debauch'd by ill-bred customs here?

To an exact perfection they have brought

The action love, the passion is forgot.

'This was long ago a witty author's lamentation, but the evil still

continues; and if a man of any delicacy were to attend the discourses

of the young fellows of this age, he would believe there were none but

the fallen to make the objects of passion. So true it is what the

author of the above verses said, a little before his death, of the

modern pretenders to gallantry: "They set up for wits in this age, by

saying, when they are sober, what they of the last spoke only when

they were drunk." But Cupid is not only blind at present, but dead

drunk; and he has lost all his faculties; else how should Celia be so

long a maid, with that agreeable behaviour? Corinna, with that

sprightly wit? Serbia, with that heavenly voice? and Sacharissa, with

all those excellences in one person, frequent the park, the play, and

murder the poor Tits that drag her to public places, and not a man

turn pale at her appearance? But such is the fallen state of love,

that if it were not for honest Cynthio, who is true to the cause, we

should hardly have a pattern left of the ancient worthies in that way;

and indeed he has but very little encouragement to persevere. Though

Cynthio has wit, good sense, fortune, and his very being depends upon

her, the termagant for whom he sighs is in love with a fellow who

stares in the glass all the time he is with her, and lets her plainly

see she may possibly be his rival, but never his mistress. Yet Cynthio

pleases himself with a vain imagination that, with the language of his

eyes, now he has found out who she is, he shall conquer her, though

her eyes are intent upon one who looks from her, which is ordinary

with the sex.

'It is certainly a mistake in the ancients to draw the little

gentleman Love as a blind boy, for his real character is a little

thief that squints; for ask Mrs. Meddle, who is a confidante or spy

upon all the passions in town, and she will tell you that the whole is

a game of cross purposes. The lover is generally pursuing one who is

in pursuit of another, and running from one that desires to meet him.

Nay, the nature of this passion is so justly represented in a

squinting little thief (who is always in a double action), that do but

observe Clarissa next time you see her, and you will find, when her

eyes have made their soft tour round the company she makes no stay on

him they say she is to marry, but rests two seconds of a minute on

Wildair, who neither looks nor thinks on her or any woman else.

However, Cynthio had a bow from her the other day, upon which he is

very much come to himself; and I heard him send his man of an errand

yesterday, without any manner of hesitation; a quarter of an hour

after which he reckoned twenty, remembered he was to sup with a

friend, and went exactly to his appointment. I sent to know how he did

this morning, and I find he hath not forgotten that he spoke to me

yesterday.'

[Illustration]

No. 9. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 30, 1709_.

Pastorella, a lively young lady of eighteen, was under the charge of

an aunt, who was anxious to keep her ward in safety, if possible, from

herself and her admirers. 'At the same time the good lady knew, by

long experience, that a gay inclination curbed too rashly would but

run to the greater excesses; she therefore made use of an ingenious

expedient to avoid the anguish of an admonition. You are to know,

then, that Miss, with all her flirting and ogling, had also a strong

curiosity in her, and was the greatest eaves-dropper breathing.

Parisatis (for so her prudent aunt is called) observed this humour,

and retires one day to her closet, into which she knew Pastorella

would peep and listen to know how she was employed. It happened

accordingly; and the young lady saw her good governante on her knees,

and, after a _mental behaviour_, break into these words: "As for the

dear child committed to my care, let her sobriety of carriage and

severity of behaviour be such as may make that noble lord, who is

taken with her beauty, turn his designs to such as are honourable."

Here Parisatis heard her niece nestle closer to the key-hole. She then

goes on: "Make her the joyful mother of a numerous and wealthy

offspring; and let her carriage be such as may make this noble youth

expect the blessings of a happy marriage, from the singularity of her

life, in this loose and censorious age." Miss, having heard enough,

sneaks off for fear of discovery, and immediately at her glass, alters

the setting of her head; then pulls up her tucker, and forms herself

into the exact manner of Lindamira; in a word, becomes a sincere

convert to everything that is commendable in a fine young lady; and

two or three such matches as her aunt feigned in her devotions are at

this day in her choice. This is the history and original cause of

Pastorella's conversion from coquetry.

[Illustration]

'I scarce remember a greater instance of forbearance in the usual

peevish way with which the aged treat the young than this, except that

of our famous Noy, whose good nature went so far as to make him put

off his admonitions to his son even until after his death; and did not

give him his thoughts of him until he came to read that memorable

passage in his will: "All the rest of my estate," says he, "I leave to

my son Edward, to be squandered as he shall think fit; I leave it him

for that purpose, and hope no better from him." A generous disdain,

and reflection how little he deserved from so excellent a father,

reformed the young man, and made Edward, from an arrant rake, become a

fine gentleman.'

No. 23. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 2, 1709_.

The 'Tatler' relates the instance of a lady who had governed one

husband by falling into fits when he opposed her will. Death released

this gentleman, and the lady consoled herself quickly with a very

agreeable successor, whom she determined to manage by the same method.

'This man knew her little arts, and resolved to break through all

tenderness, and be absolute master as soon as occasion offered. One

day it happened that a discourse arose about furniture; he was very

glad of the occasion, and fell into an invective against china,

protesting that he would never let five pounds more of his money be

laid out that way as long as he breathed. She immediately fainted--he

starts up, as amazed, and calls for help--the maids run up to the

closet. He chafes her face, bends her forward, and beats the palms of

her hands; her convulsions increase, and down she tumbles on the

floor, where she lies quite dead, in spite of what the whole family,

from the nursery to the kitchen, could do for her relief. The kind man

doubles his care, helps the servants to throw water into her face by

full quarts; and when the sinking part of the fit came again, "Well,

my dear," says he, "I applaud your action; but none of your artifices;

you are quite in other hands than those you passed these pretty

passions upon. I must take leave of you until you are more sincere

with me: farewell for ever." He was scarce at the stair-head when she

followed, and thanked him for her cure, which was so absolute that she

gave me this relation herself, to be communicated for the benefit of

all the voluntary invalids of her sex.'

[Illustration]

No. 24. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 4, 1709_.

The 'Tatler' is discoursing of 'pretty fellows,' and 'very pretty

fellows,' and enlarging on the qualifications essential to fit them

for the characters.

'Give me leave, then, to mention three, whom I do not doubt but we

shall see make considerable figures; and these are such as for their

Bacchanalian performances must be admitted into this order. They are

three brothers, lately landed from Holland; as yet, indeed, they have

not made their public entry, but lodge and converse at Wapping. They

have merited already, on the waterside, particular titles: the first

is called Hogshead; the second, Culverin; and the third, Musquet. This

fraternity is preparing for our end of the town, by their ability in

the exercises of Bacchus, and measure their time and merit by liquid

weight and power of drinking. Hogshead is a prettier fellow than

Culverin, by two quarts; and Culverin than Musquet, by a full pint. It

is to be feared Hogshead is so often too full, and Culverin

overloaded, that Musquet will be the only lasting very pretty fellow

of the three.'

[Illustration]

No. 28. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 14, 1709._

'_To the "Tatler."_--Sir,--I desire the favour of you to decide this

question, whether calling a gentleman a smart fellow is an affront or

not? A youth, entering a certain coffee-house, with his cane tied to

his button, wearing red-heeled shoes, I thought of your description,

and could not forbear telling a friend of mine next to me, "There

enters a smart fellow." The gentleman hearing it, had immediately a

mind to pick a quarrel with me, and desired satisfaction; at which I

was more puzzled than at the other, remembering what mention your

familiar makes of those that had lost their lives on such occasions.

The thing is referred to your judgment; and I expect you to be my

second, since you have been the cause of our quarrel.--I am, Sir, &c.'

[Illustration]

'Now what possible insinuation can there be, that it is a cause of

quarrel for a man to say he allows a gentleman really to be what his

tailor, his hosier, and his milliner have conspired to make him? I

confess, if this person who appeals to me had said he was "not a smart

fellow," there had been cause for resentment.'

No. 34. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 28, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff has been working certain wonderful effects by

prescribing his _circumspection-water_, which has cured Mrs. Spy of

rolling her eyes about in public places. Lady Petulant had made use of

it to cure her husband's jealousy, and Lady Gad has cured a whole

neighbourhood of detraction.

'The fame of these things,' continues the Censor-General, 'added to my

being an old fellow, makes me extremely acceptable to the fair sex.

You would hardly believe me when I tell you there is not a man in town

so much their delight as myself. They make no more of visiting me than

going to Madam Depingle's; there were two of them, namely, Dainia and

Clidamira (I assure you women of distinction), who came to see me this

morning, in their way to prayers; and being in a very diverting humour

(as innocence always makes people cheerful), they would needs have me,

according to the distinction of pretty and very pretty fellows, inform

them if I thought either of them had a title to the very pretty among

those of their own sex; and if I did, which was the most deserving of

the two?

'To put them to the trial, "Look ye," said I, "I must not rashly give

my judgment in matters of this importance; pray let me see you dance;

I play upon the kit." They immediately fell back to the lower end of

the room (you may be sure they curtsied low enough to me), and began.

Never were two in the world so equally matched, and both scholars to

my namesake Isaac.[18] Never was man in so dangerous a condition as

myself, when they began to expand their charms. "Oh! ladies, ladies,"

cried I; "not half that air; you will fire the house!" Both smiled,

for, by-the-bye, there is no carrying a metaphor too far when a lady's

charms are spoken of. Somebody, I think, has called a fine woman

dancing "a brandished torch of beauty." These rivals move with such

an agreeable freedom that you would believe their gesture was the

necessary effect of the music, and not the product of skill and

practice. Now Clidamira came on with a crowd of graces, and demanded

my judgment with so sweet an air--and she had no sooner carried it,

but Dainia made her utterly forgot, by a gentle sinking and a rigadoon

step. The contest held a full half hour; and, I protest, I saw no

manner of difference in their perfections until they came up together

and expected sentence. "Look ye, ladies," said I, "I see no difference

in the least in your performances; but you, Clidamira, seem to be so

well satisfied that I should determine for you, that I must give it to

Dainia, who stands with so much diffidence and fear, after showing an

equal merit to what she pretends to. Therefore, Clidamira, you are a

pretty, but, Dainia, you are a very pretty lady; for," said I, "beauty

loses its force if not accompanied with modesty. She that hath an

humble opinion of herself, will have everybody's applause, because she

does not expect it; while the vain creature loses approbation through

too great a sense of deserving it."'

[Illustration]

No. 36. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 2, 1709._

The 'Tatler' inserts a letter on termagant wives and sporting

tastes:--

'Epsom, June 28.

'It is now almost three weeks since what you writ about happened in

this place. The quarrel between my friends did not run so high as I

find your accounts have made it. You are to understand that the

persons concerned in this scene were Lady Autumn and Lady Springly.

Autumn is a person of good breeding, formality, and a singular way

practised in the last age; and Lady Springly, a modern impertinent of

our sex, who affects as improper a familiarity as the other does

distance. These heroines have married two brothers, both knights.

Springly is the spouse of the elder, who is a baronet, and Autumn,

being a rich widow, has taken the younger, and her purse endowed him

with an equal fortune, and knighthood of the same order. This jumble

of titles, you need not doubt, has been an aching torment to Autumn,

who took place of the other on no pretence but her carelessness and

disregard of distinction. The secret occasion of envy broiled long in

the breast of Autumn; but no opportunity of contention on that subject

happening, kept all things quiet until the accident of which you

demand an account.

'It was given out among all the gay people of this place, that on the

ninth instant several damsels, swift of foot, were to run for a suit

of head-cloaths at the Old Wells. Lady Autumn, on this occasion,

invited Springly to go with her in her coach to see the race. When

they came to the place, where the Governor of Epsom and all his court

of citizens were assembled, as well as a crowd of people of all

orders, a brisk young fellow addressed himself to the younger of the

ladies, viz. Springly, and offers her his services to conduct her into

the music-room. Springly accepts the compliment, and is led

triumphantly through a bowing crowd, while Autumn is left among the

rabble, and has much ado to get back into her coach; but she did it at

last, and as it is usual to see, by the horses, my lady's present

disposition, she orders John to whip furiously home to her husband;

where, when she enters, down she sits, began to unpin her hood, and

lament her foolish fond heart to marry into a family where she was so

little regarded. Lady Springly, an hour or two after, returns from the

Wells, and finds the whole company together. Down she sat, and a

profound silence ensued. You know a premeditated quarrel usually

begins and works up with the words _some people_. The silence was

broken by Lady Autumn, who began to say, "There are some people who

fancy, that if some people"--Springly immediately takes her up, "There

are some people who fancy, if other people"--Autumn repartees, "People

may give themselves airs; but other people, perhaps, who make less

ado, may be, perhaps, as agreeable as people who set themselves out

more." All the other people at the table sat mute, while these two

people, who were quarrelling, went on with the use of the word

_people_, instancing the very accidents between them, as if they kept

only in distant hints. Therefore, says Autumn, reddening, "There are

some people will go abroad in other people's coaches, and leave those

with whom they went to shift for themselves; and if, perhaps, those

people have married the younger brother, yet, perhaps, he may be

beholden to those people for what he is." Springly smartly answers,

"People may bring so much ill humour into a family, as people may

repent their receiving their money," and goes on--"Everybody is not

considerable enough to give her uneasiness."

[Illustration]

'Upon this Autumn comes up to her, and desired her to kiss her, and

never to see her again; which her sister refusing, my lady gave her a

box on the ear. Springly returns, "Ay, ay," said she, "I knew well

enough you meant me by your some people;" and gives her another on the

other side. To it they went, with most masculine fury; each husband

ran in. The wives immediately fell upon their husbands, and tore

periwigs and cravats. The company interposed; when (according to the

slip-knot of matrimony, which makes them return to one another when

anyone puts in between) the ladies and their husbands fell upon all

the rest of the company; and, having beat all their friends and

relations out of the house, came to themselves time enough to know

there was no bearing the jest of the place after these adventures, and

therefore marched off the next day. It is said, the governor has sent

several joints of mutton, and has proposed divers dishes, very

exquisitely dressed, to bring them down again. From his address and

knowledge in roast and boiled, all our hopes of the return of this

good company depend.

'I am, dear Jenny,

'Your ready friend and servant,

'MARTHA TATLER.'

No. 37. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 5, 1709._

The 'Tatler' is discoursing of country squires, with fox-hunting

tastes, and how in their rough music of the field they outdo the best

Italian singers for noise and volume. One of these worthies is

described on a visit in genteel society in town. 'Mr. Bellfrey being

at a visit where I was, viz. at his cousin's (Lady Dainty's), in Soho

Square, was asked what entertainments they had in the country. Now,

Bellfrey is very ignorant, and much a clown; but confident withal: in

a word, he struck up a fox-chase; Lady Dainty's dog, Mr. Sippet, as

she calls him, started, jumped out of his lady's lap, and fell a

barking. Bellfrey went on, and called all the neighbouring parishes

into the square. Never was woman in such confusion as that delicate

lady; but there was no stopping her kinsman. A roomful of ladies fell

into the most violent laughter; my lady looked as if she was

shrieking; Mr. Sippet, in the middle of the room, breaking his heart

with barking, but all of us unheard. As soon as Bellfrey became

silent, up gets my lady, and takes him by the arm, to lead him off.

Bellfrey was in his boots. As she was hurrying him away, his spurs

take hold of her petticoat; his whip throws down a cabinet of china:

he cries, "What! are your crocks rotten? are your petticoats ragged? A

man cannot walk in your house for trincums."'

[Illustration]

No. 38. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 7, 1709._

The practice of duelling had been early discountenanced by the

'Tatler.' An altercation after a stock-broking transaction was settled

in the fashion thus reported in its pages:--

'... However, having sold the bear, and words arising about the

delivery, the most noble major, according to method, abused the other

with the titles of rogue, villain, bear-skin man, and the like.

Whereupon satisfaction was demanded and accepted, and forth they

marched to a most spacious room in the sheriff's house, where, having

due regard to what you have lately published, yet not willing to put

up with affronts without satisfaction, they stripped and in decent

manner fought full fairly with their wrathful hands. The combat lasted

a quarter of an hour; in which time victory was often doubtful, until

the major, finding his adversary obstinate, unwilling to give him

further chastisement, with most shrill voice cried out, "I am

satisfied! enough!" whereupon the combat ceased, and both were friends

immediately.'

[Illustration]

No. 41. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 14, 1709._

A battle fought in the very streets of London by the Volunteers of

1709, from their head-quarters, the Artillery Ground, Moorgate, is

thus described by one of the Grub Street auxiliaries:--

[Illustration]

'Indeed, I am extremely concerned for the lieutenant-general, who by

his overthrow and defeat is made a deplorable instance of the fortune

of war, and the vicissitudes of human affairs. He, alas! has lost in

Beech Lane and Chiswell Street all the glory he lately gained in and

about Holborn and St. Giles's. The art of sub-dividing first and

dividing afterwards is new and surprising; and according to this

method the troops are disposed in King's Head Court and Red Lion

Market, nor is the conduct of these leaders less conspicuous in the

choice of the ground or field of battle. Happy was it that the

greatest part of the achievements of this day was to be performed near

Grub Street, that there might not be wanting a sufficient number of

faithful historians who, being eye-witnesses of these wonders, should

impartially transmit them to posterity! but then it can never be

enough regretted that we are left in the dark as to the name and title

of that extraordinary hero who commanded the divisions in Paul's

Alley; especially because those divisions are justly styled brave, and

accordingly were to push the enemy along Bunhill Row, and thereby

occasion a general battle. But Pallas appeared, in the form of a

shower of rain, and prevented the slaughter and desolation which were

threatened by these extraordinary preparations.'

No. 45. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 23, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff, having paid a visit to Oxford, has spent the evening

with some merry wits, and, after his custom, he relates the adventures

of the evening to furnish a paper for the 'Tatler':--

[Illustration]

'I am got hither safe, but never spent time with so little

satisfaction as this evening; for, you must know, I was five hours

with three merry and two honest fellows. The former sang catches and

the latter even died with laughing at the noise they made. "Well,"

says Tom Bellfrey, "you scholars, Mr. Bickerstaff, are the worst

company in the world." "Ay," says his opposite, "you are dull

to-night; prythee, be merry." With that I huzzaed, and took a jump

across the table, then came clever upon my legs, and fell a laughing.

"Let Mr. Bickerstaff alone," says one of the honest fellows; "when he

is in a good humour, he is as good company as any man in England." He

had no sooner spoke, but I snatched his hat off his head, and clapped

it upon my own, and burst out a laughing again; upon which we all fell

a laughing for half an hour. One of the honest fellows got behind me

in the interim and hit me a sound slap on the back; upon which he got

the laugh out of my hands; and it was such a twang on my shoulders,

that I confess he was much merrier than I. I was half angry, but

resolved to keep up the good humour of the company; and after

hallooing as loud as I could possibly, I drank off a bumper of claret

that made me stare again. "Nay," says one of the honest fellows, "Mr.

Isaac is in the right; there is no conversation in this: what

signifies jumping or hitting one another on the back? let us drink

about." We did so from seven of the clock until eleven; and now I am

come hither, and, after the manner of the wise Pythagoras, began to

reflect upon the passages of the day. I remember nothing but that I am

bruised to death; and as it is my way to write down all the good

things I have heard in the last conversation, to furnish my paper, I

can from this only tell you my sufferings and my bangs.'

No. 46. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 26, 1709._

Aurengezebe, a modern Eastern potentate, is described as amusing his

later years by playing the grand Turk to the Sultanas of Little

Britain.

'There is,' proceeds the account, 'a street near Covent Garden known

by the name of Drury, which, before the days of Christianity, was

purchased by the Queen of Paphos, and is the only part of Great

Britain where the tenure of vassalage is still in being.... This

seraglio is disposed into convenient alleys and apartments, and every

house, from the cellar to the garret, inhabited by nymphs of different

orders.

'Here it is that, when Aurengezebe thinks fit to give loose to

dalliance, the purveyors prepare the entertainment; and what makes it

more august is, that every person concerned in the interlude has his

set part, and the prince sends beforehand word what he designs to say,

and directs also the very answer which shall be made to him.

[Illustration]

'The entertainment is introduced by the matron of the temple; whereon

an unhappy nymph, who is to be supposed just escaped from the hands of

a ravisher, with her tresses dishevelled, runs into the room with a

dagger in her hand, and falls before the emperor.

'"Pity, oh! pity, whoever thou art, an unhappy virgin, whom one of thy

train has robbed of her innocence; her innocence, which was all her

portion--or rather let me die like the memorable Lucretia!" Upon

which she stabs herself. The body is immediately examined, Lucretia

recovers by a cup of right Nantz, and the matron, who is her next

relation, stops all process at law.'

Similar extraordinary entertainments continue the evening, which

concludes in a distribution of largesse by the fictitious sultan.

No. 47. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 28, 1709._

The 'Tatler' describes an incident of Sir Taffety Trippet, a

fortune-hunter, whose follies, according to Mr. Bickerstaff, are too

gross to give diversion; and whose vanity is too stupid to let him be

sensible that he is a public offence.

[Illustration]

'It happened that, when he first set up for a fortune-hunter, he chose

Tunbridge for the scene of action, where were at that time two sisters

upon the same design. The knight believed, of course, the elder must

be the better prize; and consequently makes all sail that way. People

that want sense do always in an egregious manner want modesty, which

made our hero triumph in making his amour as public as was possible.

The adored lady was no less vain of his public addresses. An attorney

with one cause is not half so restless as a woman with one lover.

Wherever they met, they talked to each other aloud, chose each other

partner at balls, saluted at the most conspicuous part of the service

of the church, and practised, in honour of each other, all the

remarkable particularities which are usual for persons who admire one

another, and are contemptible to the rest of the world. These two

lovers seemed as much made for each other as Adam and Eve, and all

pronounced it a match of nature's own making; but the night before the

nuptials, so universally approved, the younger sister, envious of the

good fortune even of her sister, who had been present at most of the

interviews, and had an equal taste for the charm of a fop, as there

are a set of women made for that order of men; the younger, I say,

unable to see so rich a prize pass by her, discovered to Sir Taffety

that a coquet air, much tongue, and three suits was all the portion of

his mistress. His love vanished that moment; himself and equipage the

next morning.'

No. 52. THE 'TATLER.'--_Aug. 9, 1709._

'DELAMIRA RESIGNS HER FAN.

'When the beauteous Delamira had published her intention of entering

the bonds of matrimony, the matchless Virgulta, whose charms had made

no satires, thus besought her to confide the secret of her triumphs:--

'"Delamira! you are now going into that state of life wherein the use

of your charms is wholly to be applied to the pleasing only one man.

That swimming air of your body, that jaunty bearing of your head over

one shoulder, and that inexpressible beauty in your manner of playing

your fan, must be lowered into a more confined behaviour, to show that

you would rather shun than receive addresses for the future.

Therefore, dear Delamira, give me those excellences you leave off, and

acquaint me with your manner of charming; for I take the liberty of

our friendship to say, that when I consider my own stature, motion,

complexion, wit, or breeding, I cannot think myself any way your

inferior; yet do I go through crowds without wounding a man, and all

my acquaintance marry round me while I live a virgin masked, and I

think unregarded."

[Illustration]

'Delamira heard her with great attention, and, with that dexterity

which is natural to her, told her that "all she had above the rest of

her sex and contemporary beauties was wholly owing to a fan (that was

left her by her mother, and had been long in the family), which

whoever had in possession and used with skill, should command the

hearts of all her beholders; and since," said she, smiling, "I have no

more to do with extending my conquests or triumphs, I will make you a

present of this inestimable rarity." Virgulta made her expressions of

the highest gratitude for so uncommon a confidence in her, and desired

she would "show her what was peculiar in the management of that

utensil, which rendered it of such general force when she was

mistress of it." Delamira replied, "You see, madam, Cupid is the

principal figure painted on it; and the skill in playing the fan is,

in your several motions of it, to let him appear as little as

possible; for honourable lovers fly all endeavours to ensnare them,

and your Cupid must hide his bow and arrow, or he will never be sure

of his game. You observe," continued she, "that in all public

assemblies the sexes seem to separate themselves, and draw up to

attack each other with eye-shot: that is the time when the fan, which

is all the armour of a woman, is of most use in our defence; for our

minds are construed by the waving of that little instrument, and our

thoughts appear in composure or agitation according to the motion of

it."'

No. 57. THE 'TATLER.'--_Aug. 20, 1709._

The 'Tatler' transcribes from La Bruyère an extract, which he

introduces as 'one of the most elegant pieces of raillery and satire.'

La Bruyère describes the French as if speaking of a people not yet

discovered, in the air and style of a traveller:--

'I have heard talk of a country where the old men are gallant, polite,

and civil; the young men, on the contrary, stubborn, wild, without

either manners or civility. Amongst these people, he is sober who is

never drunk with anything but wine; the too frequent use of it having

rendered it flat and insipid to them: they endeavour by brandy, or

other strong liquors, to quicken their taste, already extinguished,

and want nothing to complete their debauches but to drink aqua-fortis.

The women of that country hasten the decay of their beauty by their

artifices to preserve it; they paint their cheeks, eye-brows, and

shoulders, which they lay open, together with their breasts, arms, and

ears, as if they were afraid to hide those places which they think

will please, and never think they show enough of them.

[Illustration]

'The physiognomies of the people of that country are not at all neat,

but confused and embarrassed with a bundle of strange hair, which they

prefer before their natural; with this they weave something to cover

their heads, which descends half way down their bodies, hides their

features, and hinders you from knowing men by their faces. This

nation has, besides this, their god and their king.

'The grandees go every day, at a certain hour, to a temple they call a

church: at the upper end of that temple there stands an altar

consecrated to their god, where the priest celebrates some mysteries

which they call holy, sacred, and tremendous. The great men make a

vast circle at the foot of the altar, standing with their backs to the

priests and the holy mysteries, and their faces erected towards their

king, who is seen on his knees upon a throne, and to whom they seem to

direct the desires of their hearts, and all their devotion. However,

in this custom there is to be remarked a sort of subordination; for

the people appear adoring their prince and their prince adoring God.'

No. 61. THE 'TATLER.'--_Aug. 30, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff is musing on the degeneracy of the fair, and on the

changes which beauty has undergone since his youth.

'We have,' he argues, 'no such thing as a standard for good breeding.

I was the other day at my Lady Wealthy's, and asked one of her

daughters how she did. She answered, "She never conversed with men."

The same day I visited at my Lady Plantwell's, and asked her daughter

the same question. She answers, "What is that to you, you old thief?"

and gives me a slap on the shoulders....

[Illustration]

'I will not answer for it, but it may be that I (like other old

fellows) have a fondness for the fashions and manners which prevailed

when I was young and in fashion myself. But certain it is that the

taste of youth and beauty is very much lowered. The fine women they

show me now-a-days are at best but pretty girls to me who have seen

Sacharissa, when all the world repeated the poems she inspired; and

Villaria (the Duchess of Cleveland), when a youthful king was her

subject. The _things_ you follow and make songs on now should be sent

to knit, or sit down to bobbins or bone-lace: they are indeed neat,

and so are their sempstresses; they are pretty, and so are their

handmaids. But that graceful motion, that awful mien, and that winning

attraction, which grew upon them from the thoughts and conversations

they met with in my time, are now no more seen. They tell me I am old:

I am glad I am so, for I do not like your present young ladies.'

No. 64. THE 'TATLER.'--_Sept. 6, 1709._

'"*** Lost, from the Cocoa-tree, in Pall Mall, two Irish dogs, belonging

to the pack of London; one a tall white wolf dog; the other a black

nimble greyhound, not very sound, and supposed to be gone to the Bath,

by instinct, for cure. The man of the inn from whence they ran, being

now there, is desired, if he meets either of them, to tie them up.

Several others are lost about Tunbridge and Epsom, which, whoever will

maintain, may keep."'

[Illustration]

No. 67. THE 'TATLER.'--_Sept. 13, 1709._

The 'Tatler' proposes to work upon the post, to establish a charitable

society, from which there shall go every day circular letters to all

parts, within the bills of mortality, to tell people of their faults

in a friendly manner, whereby they may know what the world thinks of

them. An example follows, which had been already sent, by way of

experiment, without success:--

'"Madam,--Let me beg of you to take off the patches at the lower end

of your left cheek, and I will allow two more under your left eye,

which will contribute more to the symmetry of your face; except you

would please to remove the two black atoms on your ladyship's chin,

and wear one large patch instead of them. If so, you may properly

enough retain the three patches above mentioned. I am, &c."

[Illustration]

'This I thought had all the civility and reason in the world in it;

but whether my letters are intercepted, or whatever it is, the lady

patches as she used to do. It is observed by all the charitable

society, as an instruction in their epistles, that they tell people of

nothing but what is in their power to mend. I shall give another

instance of this way of writing: two sisters in Essex Street are

eternally gaping out of the window, as if they knew not the value of

time, or would call in companions. Upon which I writ the following

line:--

'"Dear Creatures,--On the receipt of this, shut your

casements."

'But I went by yesterday, and found them still at the window. What can

a man do in this case, but go in and wrap himself up in his own

integrity, with satisfaction only in this melancholy truth, that

virtue is its own reward; and that if no one is the better for his

admonitions, yet he is himself the more virtuous, in that he gave

those advices?'

No. 79. THE 'TATLER.'--_Oct. 11, 1709._

Mr. Bickerstaff's sister Jenny is going to be married. The 'Tatler'

tells the following anecdote, as a warning 'to be above trifles:'--

[Illustration]

'This, dear Jenny, is the reason that the quarrel between Sir Harry

and his lady, which began about her squirrel, is irreconcilable. Sir

Harry was reading a grave author; she runs into his study, and, in a

playing humour, claps the squirrel upon the folio: he threw the

animal, in a rage, on the floor; she snatches it up again, calls Sir

Harry a sour pedant, without good nature or good manners. This cast

him into such a rage, that he threw down the table before him, kicked

the book round the room, then recollected himself: "Lord, madam," said

he, "why did you run into such expressions? I was," said he, "in the

highest delight with that author when you clapped your squirrel upon

my book;" and smiling, added upon recollection, "I have a great

respect for your favourite, and pray let us be all friends." My lady

was so far from accepting this apology, that she immediately conceived

a resolution to keep him under for ever, and, with a serious air,

replied, "There is no regard to be had to what a man says who can fall

into so indecent a rage and an abject submission in the same moment,

for which I absolutely despise you." Upon which she rushed out of the

room. Sir Harry stayed some minutes behind, to think and command

himself; after which he followed her into her bed-chamber, where she

was prostrate upon the bed, tearing her hair, and naming twenty

coxcombs who would have used her otherwise. This provoked him to so

high a degree that he forbade nothing but beating her; and all the

servants in the family were at their several stations listening,

whilst the best man and woman, the best master and mistress, defamed

each other in a way that is not to be repeated even at Billingsgate.

You know this ended in an immediate separation: she longs to return

home, but knows not how to do it; and he invites her home every day.

Her husband requires no submission of her; but she thinks her very

return will argue she is to blame, which she is resolved to be for

ever, rather than acknowledge it.'

[Illustration]

No. 86. THE 'TATLER.'--_Oct. 27, 1709._

'When I came home last night, my servant delivered me the following

letter:--

'"Sir,--I have orders from Sir Harry Quickset, of Staffordshire,

Baronet, to acquaint you, that his honour, Sir Harry himself; Sir

Giles Wheelbarrow, Knight; Thomas Rentfree, Esquire, justice of the

quorum; Andrew Windmill, Esquire; and Mr. Nicolas Doubt, of the Inner

Temple, Sir Harry's grandson, will wait upon you at the hour of nine

to-morrow morning, being Tuesday, the twenty-fifth of October, upon

business which Sir Harry will impart to you by word of mouth. I

thought it proper to acquaint you beforehand, so many persons of

quality came, that you might not be surprised therewith. Which

concludes, though by many years' absence since I saw you at Stafford,

unknown, Sir, your most humble servant,

'"JOHN THRIFTY."

'I received this note with less surprise than I believe Mr. Thrifty

imagined; for I know the good company too well to feel any

palpitations at their approach: but I was in very great concern how I

could adjust the ceremonial, and demean myself to all these great men,

who perhaps had not seen anything above themselves for these twenty

years last past. I am sure that is the case of Sir Harry. Besides

which, I was sensible that there was a great point in adjusting my

behaviour to the simple squire, so as to give him satisfaction, and

not disoblige the justice of the quorum.

'The hour of nine was come this morning, and I had no sooner set

chairs, by the steward's letter, and fixed my tea-equipage, but I

heard a knock at my door, which was opened, but no one entered; after

which followed a long silence, which was at last broken by, "Sir, I

beg your pardon; I think I know better:" and another voice, "Nay, good

Sir Giles----" I looked out from my window, and saw the good company

all with their hats off, and arms spread, offering the door to each

other. After many offers, they entered with much solemnity, in the

order Mr. Thrifty was so kind as to name them to me. But they had now

got to my chamber-door, and I saw my old friend Sir Harry enter. I met

him with all the respect due to so reverend a vegetable; for you are

to know that is my sense of a person who remains idle in the same

place for half a century. I got him with great success into his chair

by the fire, without throwing down any of my cups. The knight-bachelor

told me, "he had a great respect for my whole family, and would, with

my leave, place himself next to Sir Harry, at whose right hand he had

sat at every quarter-sessions these thirty years, unless he was sick."

The steward in the rear whispered the young templar, "That is true to

my knowledge." I had the misfortune, as they stood cheek by jole, to

desire the squire to sit down before the justice of the quorum, to the

no small satisfaction of the former, and the resentment of the latter.

But I saw my error too late, and got them as soon as I could into

their seats. "Well," said I, "gentlemen, after I have told you how

glad I am of this great honour, I am to desire you to drink a dish of

tea." They answered one and all, "that they never drank tea of a

morning." "Not drink tea of a morning?" said I, staring round me. Upon

which the pert jackanapes, Nic Doubt, tipped me the wink, and put out

his tongue at his grandfather. Here followed a profound silence, when

the steward, in his boots and whip, proposed, "that we should adjourn

to some public house, where everybody might call for what they

pleased, and enter upon the business." We all stood up in an instant,

and Sir Harry filed off from the left, very discreetly,

countermarching behind the chairs towards the door. After him Sir

Giles, in the same manner. The simple squire made a sudden start to

follow; but the justice of the quorum whipped between upon the stand

of the stairs. A maid, going up with coals, made us halt, and put us

into such confusion that we stood all in a heap, without any visible

possibility of recovering our order; for the young jackanapes seemed

to make a jest of this matter, and had so contrived, by pressing in

amongst us, under pretence of making way, that his grandfather was got

into the middle, and he knew nobody was of quality to stir a step

until Sir Harry moved first. We were fixed in this perplexity for some

time, until we heard a very loud noise in the street; and Sir Harry

asking what it was, I, to make them move, said, "it was fire." Upon

this all ran down as fast as they could, without order or ceremony,

until we got into the street, where we drew up in very good order, and

filed down Sheer Lane; the impertinent templar driving us before him

as in a string, and pointing to his acquaintance who passed by. When

we came to Dick's coffee-house we were at our old difficulty, and took

up the street upon the same ceremony. We proceeded through the entry,

and were so necessarily kept in order by the situation that we were

now got into the coffee-house itself; where, as soon as we arrived, we

repeated our civilities to each other: after which we marched up to

the high table, which has an ascent to it inclosed in the middle of

the room. The whole house was alarmed at this entry, made up of

persons of so much state and rusticity. Sir Harry called for a mug of

ale and "Dyer's Letter." The boy brought the ale in an instant, but

said, "they did not take in the letter." "No!" says Sir Harry, "then

take back your mug; we are like indeed to have good liquor at this

house!" Here the templar tipped me a second wink, and, if I had not

looked very grave upon him, I found he was disposed to be very

familiar with me. In short, I observed, after a long pause, that the

gentlemen did not care to enter upon business until after their

morning draught, for which reason I called for a bottle of mum; and

finding that had no effect upon them, I ordered a second, and a third;

after which Sir Harry reached over to me, and told me in a low voice,

"that place was too public for business; but he would call upon me

again to-morrow morning at my own lodgings, and bring some more

friends with him."'

[Illustration]

No. 88. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 1, 1709._

The 'Tatler' has been much surprised by the manœuvres of a studious

neighbour.

'From my own Apartment, October 31.

[Illustration]

'I was this morning awakened by a sudden shake of the house; and as

soon as I had got a little out of my consternation, I felt another,

which was followed by two or three repetitions of the same convulsion.

I got up as fast as possible, girt on my rapier, and snatched up my

hat, when my landlady came up to me, and told me, "that the

gentlewoman of the next house begged me to step thither, for that a

lodger that she had taken in was run mad; and she desired my advice."

I went immediately. Our neighbour told us, "she had the day before let

her second floor to a very genteel youngish man, who told her he kept

extraordinary good hours, and was generally at home most part of the

morning and evening at study; but that this morning he had for an hour

together made this extravagant noise which we then heard." I went up

stairs with my hand upon the hilt of my rapier, and approached this

new lodger's door. I looked in at the key-hole, and there I saw a

well-made man look with great attention on a book, and on a sudden

jump into the air so high, that his head almost touched the ceiling.

He came down safe on his right foot, and again flew up, alighting on

his left; then looked again at his book, and, holding out his leg, put

it into such a quivering motion, that I thought that he would have

shaken it off. He used the left after the same manner, when on a

sudden, to my great surprise, he stooped himself incredibly low, and

turned gently on his toes. After this circular motion, he continued

bent in that humble posture for some time looking on his book. After

this, he recovered himself with a sudden spring, and flew round the

room in all the violence and disorder imaginable, until he made a full

pause for want of breath. In this interim my woman asked "what I

thought?" I whispered "that I thought this learned person an

enthusiast, who possibly had his education in the Peripatetic way,

which was a sect of philosophers, who always studied when walking."

Observing him much out of breath, I thought it the best time to master

him if he were disordered, and knocked at his door. I was surprised to

find him open it, and say with great civility and good mien, "that he

hoped he had not disturbed us." I believed him in a lucid interval,

and desired "he would please to let me see his book." He did so,

smiling. I could not make anything of it, and, therefore, asked "in

what language it was writ?" He said, "it was one he studied with great

application; but it was his profession to teach it, and could not

communicate his knowledge without a consideration." I answered that I

hoped he would hereafter keep his thoughts to himself, for his

meditations this morning had cost me three coffee dishes and a clean

pipe. He seemed concerned at that, and told me "he was a dancing

master, and had been reading a dance or two before he went out, which

had been written by one who taught at an academy in France." He

observed me at a stand, and informed me, "that now articulate motions

as well as sounds were expressed by proper characters; and that there

is nothing so common as to communicate a dance by a letter." I

besought him hereafter to meditate in a ground room, for that

otherwise it would be impossible for an artist of any other kind to

live near him, and that I was sure several of his thoughts this

morning would have shaken my spectacles off my nose, had I been myself

at study.'

No. 91. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 8, 1709._

[Illustration]

One of the celebrated beauties of 1709 pays the 'Tatler' a friendly

visit to obtain his counsel on the choice of her future husband, being

perplexed between two suitors--between inclination on one hand and

riches on the other.

'From my own Apartment, November 7.

'I was very much surprised this evening with a visit from one of the

top Toasts of the town, who came privately in a chair, and bolted into

my room, while I was reading a chapter of Agrippa upon the occult

sciences; but, as she entered with all the air and bloom that nature

ever bestowed on woman, I threw down the conjurer and met the charmer.

I had no sooner placed her at my right hand by the fire, but she

opened to me the reason of her visit. "Mr. Bickerstaff," said the fine

creature, "I have been your correspondent some time, though I never

saw you before; I have writ by the name of Maria. You have told me you

are too far gone in life to think of love. Therefore I am answered as

to the passion I spoke of; and," continued she, smiling, "I will not

stay until you grow young again, as you men never fail to do in your

dotage; but am come to consult you as to disposing of myself to

another. My person you see, my fortune is very considerable; but I am

at present under much perplexity how to act in a great conjuncture. I

have two lovers, Crassus and Lorio. Crassus is prodigiously rich, but

has no one distinguishing quality. Lorio has travelled, is well bred,

pleasant in discourse, discreet in his conduct, agreeable in his

person; and with all this, he has a competency of fortune without

superfluity. When I consider Lorio, my mind is filled with an idea of

the great satisfactions of a pleasant conversation. When I think of

Crassus, my equipage, numerous servants, gay liveries, and various

dresses, are opposed to the charms of his rival. In a word, when I

cast my eyes upon Lorio, I forget and despise fortune; when I behold

Crassus, I think only of pleasing my vanity, and enjoying an

uncontrolled expense in all the pleasures of life, except love."'

The 'Tatler' naturally advised the lady that the man of her

affections, rather than the lover who could gratify her vanity with

outward show, would afford her the truest happiness, and counselled

her to keep her thoughts of happiness within the means of her fortune,

and not to measure it by comparison with the mere riches of others.

No. 93. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 12, 1709._

The 'Tatler,' from his eagerness to promote social reforms, has

succeeded in drawing upon himself numerous challenges from the

individuals who have considered themselves aggrieved by his writings.

'From my own Apartment, November 11.

'I have several hints and advertisements from unknown hands, that some

who are enemies to my labours design to demand the fashionable way of

satisfaction for the disturbance my lucubrations have given them. I

confess that as things now stand I do not know how to deny such

inviters, and am preparing myself accordingly. I have bought pumps,

and foils, and am every morning practising in my chamber. My

neighbour, the dancing-master, has demanded of me, "why I take this

liberty since I will not allow it to him?" but I answered, "his was an

act of indifferent nature, and mine of necessity." My late treatises

against duels have so far disobliged the fraternity of the noble

science of defence, that I can get none of them to show me so much as

one pass. I am, therefore, obliged to learn by book, and have

accordingly several volumes, wherein all the postures are exactly

delineated. I must confess I am shy of letting people see me at this

exercise, because of my flannel waistcoat, and my spectacles, which I

am forced to fix on the better to observe the posture of the enemy.

[Illustration]

'I have upon my chamber walls drawn at full length the figures of all

sorts of men, from eight feet to three feet two inches. Within this

height, I take it, that all the fighting men of Great Britain are

comprehended. But as I push, I make allowance for my being of a lank

and spare body, and have chalked out in every figure my own

dimensions; for I scorn to rob any man of his life by taking advantage

of his breadth; therefore, I press purely in a line down from his

nose, and take no more of him to assault than he has of me; for, to

speak impartially, if a lean fellow wounds a fat one in any part to

the right or left, whether it be in _carte_ or in _tierce_, beyond the

dimensions of the said lean fellow's own breadth, I take it to be

murder, and such a murder as is below a gentleman to commit. As I am

spare, I am also very tall, and behave myself with relation to that

advantage with the same punctilio, and I am ready to stoop or stand,

according to the stature of my adversary.

'I must confess that I have had great success this morning, and have

hit every figure round the room in a mortal part, without receiving

the least hurt, except a little scratch by falling on my face, in

pushing at one at the lower end of my chamber; but I recovered so

quick, and jumped so nimbly on my guard, that, if he had been alive,

he could not have hurt me. It is confessed I have written against

duels with some warmth; but in all my discourses I have not ever said

that I knew how a gentleman could avoid a duel if he were provoked to

it; and since that custom is now become a law, I know nothing but the

legislative power, with new animadversions upon it, can put us in a

capacity of denying challenges, though we were afterwards hanged for

it. But no more of this at present. As things stand, I shall put up

with no more affronts; and I shall be so far from taking ill words

that I will not take ill looks. I therefore warn all hot young fellows

not to look hereafter more terrible than their neighbours; for if they

stare at me with their hats cocked higher than other people, I will

not bear it. Nay, I give warning to all people in general to look

kindly at me; for I will bear no frowns, even from ladies; and if any

woman pretends to look scornfully at me, I shall demand satisfaction

of the next of kin of the masculine gender.'

No. 96. THE 'TATLER.'--_Nov. 19, 1709._

The 'Tatler,' in despair of effecting his object by discouraging

certain acts of foppery, endeavours to carry out his principle by an

opposite course of treatment.

'From my own Apartment, November 18.

'When an engineer finds his guns have not had their intended effect,

he changes his batteries. I am forced at present to take this method;

and instead of continuing to write against the singularity some are

guilty of in their habit and behaviour, I shall henceforth desire them

to persevere in it; and not only so, but shall take it as a favour of

all the coxcombs in the town, if they will set marks upon themselves,

and by some particular in their dress show to what class they belong.

It would be very obliging in all such persons, who feel in themselves

that they are not of sound understanding, to give the world notice of

it, and spare mankind the pains of finding them out. A cane upon the

fifth button shall from henceforth be the sign of a dapper; red-heeled

shoes and a hat hung upon one side of the head shall signify a smart;

_a good periwig made into a twist, with a brisk cock_, shall speak a

mettled fellow; and an upper lip covered with snuff, a coffee-house

statesman. But as it is required that all coxcombs hang out their

signs, it is, on the other hand, expected that men of real merit

should avoid anything particular in their dress, gait, or behaviour.

For, as we old men delight in proverbs, I cannot forbear bringing out

one on this occasion, that "good wine needs no bush."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

'I must not leave this subject without reflecting on several persons I

have lately met, who at a distance seem very terrible; but upon a

stricter enquiry into their looks and features, appear as meek and

harmless as any of my neighbours. These are country gentlemen, who of

late years have taken up a humour of coming to town in red coats, whom

an arch wag of my acquaintance used to describe very well by calling

them "sheep in wolves' clothing." I have often wondered that honest

gentlemen, who are good neighbours, and live quietly in their own

possessions, should take it into their heads to frighten the town

after this unreasonable manner. I shall think myself obliged, if they

persist in so unnatural a dress, notwithstanding any posts they may

have in the _militia_, to give away their red coats to any of the

soldiery who shall think fit to strip them, provided the said soldiers

can make it appear that they belong to a regiment where there is a

deficiency in the clothing. About two days ago I was walking in the

park, and accidentally met a rural esquire, clothed in all the types

above mentioned, with a carriage and behaviour made entirely out of

his own head. He was of a bulk and stature larger than ordinary, had a

red coat, flung open to show a gay calamancho waistcoat. His periwig

fell in a very considerable bush upon each shoulder. His arms

naturally swung at an unreasonable distance from his sides; which,

with the advantage of a cane that he brandished in a great variety of

irregular motions, made it unsafe for any one to walk within several

yards of him. In this manner he took up the whole Mall, his spectators

moving on each side of it, whilst he cocked up his hat, and marched

directly for Westminster. I cannot tell who this gentleman is, but for

my comfort may say, with the lover in Terence, who lost sight of a

fine young lady, "Wherever thou art, thou canst not be long

concealed."'

No. 103. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 6, 1709._

These toys will once to serious mischiefs fall,

When he is laughed at, when he's jeer'd by all.

_Creech_ (ab Hor., Ars Poet. v. 452).

The 'Tatler,' pursuing his vocation as a censor of manners, is

presumed to have established a court, before which all bearers of

canes, snuff-boxes, perfumed handkerchiefs, perspective glasses, &c.,

are brought, that they may, upon showing proper cause, have licences

granted for carrying the same; but upon conviction that these

appendages of fashion are adopted merely out of frivolous show, the

articles thus exposed are ordered to become forfeited.

[Illustration]

'Having despatched this set of my petitioners, the bearers of canes,

there came in a well-dressed man, with a glass tube in one hand, and

his petition in the other. Upon his entering the room, he _threw back

the right side of his wig_, put forward his left leg, and advancing

the glass to his right eye, aimed it directly at me. In the meanwhile,

to make my observations also, I put on my spectacles; in which

posture we surveyed each other for some time. Upon the removal of our

glasses, I desired him to read his petition, which he did very

promptly and easily; though at the same time it sets forth "that he

could see nothing distinctly, and was within very few degrees of being

utterly blind," concluding, with a prayer, "that he might be permitted

to strengthen his sight by a glass." In answer to this, I told him "he

might sometimes extend it to his own destruction. As you are now,"

said I, "you are out of the reach of beauty; the shafts of the finest

eyes lose their force before they can come at you; you cannot

distinguish a Toast from an orange-wench; you can see a whole circle

of beauty without any interruption from an impertinent face to

discompose you. In short, what are snares for others"--my petitioner

would hear no more, but told me very seriously, "Mr. Bickerstaff, you

quite mistake your man; it is the joy, the pleasure, the employment of

my life to frequent public assemblies and gaze upon the fair." In a

word, I found his use of a glass was occasioned by no other infirmity

but his vanity, and was not so much designed to make him see as to

make him be seen and distinguished by others. I therefore refused him

a licence for a perspective, but allowed him a pair of spectacles,

with full permission to use them in any public assembly as he should

think fit. He was followed by so very few of this order of men, that I

have reason to hope that this sort of cheat is almost at an end.

'Little follies in dress and behaviour lead to greater evils. The

bearing to be laughed at for such singularity teaches us insensibly an

impertinent fortitude, and enables us to bear public censure for

things that most substantially deserve it. By this means they open a

gate to folly, and often render a man so ridiculous as to discredit

his virtues and capacities, and unqualify him from doing any good in

the world. Besides, the giving in to uncommon habits of this nature,

it is a want of that humble deference which is due to mankind, and,

what is worst of all, the certain indication of some secret flaw in

the mind of the person that commits them.

'When I was a young man, I remember a gentleman of great integrity and

worth was very remarkable for wearing a broad belt and a hanger

instead of a fashionable sword, though in other points a very

well-bred man. I suspected him at first sight to have something wrong

in him, but was not able for a long time to discover any collateral

proofs of it. I watched him narrowly for six-and-thirty years, when at

last, to the surprise of everybody but myself, who had long expected

to see the folly break out, he married his own cook-maid.'

[Illustration]

No. 108. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 17, 1709._

Thus while the mute creation downward bend

Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend,

Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes

Beholds his own hereditary skies.--_Dryden._

The 'Tatler,' for a little rational recreation, has visited the

theatre, hoping to enlarge his ideas; but even in 1709 we find a

passion for mere acrobatic exhibitions engaging and corrupting the

popular taste.

'While I was in suspense, expecting every moment to see my old friend

Mr. Betterton appear in all the majesty of distress, to my unspeakable

amazement there came up a monster with a face between his feet, and as

I was looking on he raised himself on one leg in such a perpendicular

posture that the other grew in a direct line above his head. It

afterwards twisted itself into the motions and writhings of several

different animals, and, after a great variety of shapes and

transformations, went off the stage in the figure of a human creature.

The admiration, the applause, the satisfaction of the audience, during

this strange entertainment, is not to be expressed. I was very much

out of countenance for my dear countrymen, and looked about with some

apprehension, for fear any foreigner should be present. Is it

possible, thought I, that human nature can rejoice in its disgrace,

and take pleasure in seeing its own figure turned to ridicule and

distorted into forms that raise horror and aversion!'

[Illustration]

No. 109. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 20, 1709._

In this giddy, busy maze,

I lose the sunshine of my days.--_Francis._

A fine lady has condescended to consult the 'Tatler' on a trifling

matter; the solemnity of her state--an admirable picture of the

equipage of a fine lady of that period--electrifies the philosopher

and amazes his simple neighbours.

'Sheer Lane, December 19.

'There has not some years been such a tumult in our neighbourhood as

this evening, about six. At the lower end of the lane, the word was

given that there was a great funeral coming by. The next moment came

forward, in a very hasty instead of a solemn manner, a long train of

lights, when at last a footman, in very high youth and health, with

all his force, ran through the whole art of beating the door of the

house next to me, and ended his rattle with the true finishing rap.

This did not only bring one to the door at which he knocked, but to

that of everyone in the lane in an instant. Among the rest, my

country-maid took the alarm, and immediately running to me, told me

"there was a fine, fine lady, who had three men with burial torches

making way before her, carried by two men upon poles, with

looking-glasses each side of her, and one glass also before, she

herself appearing the prettiest that ever was." The girl was going on

in her story, when the lady was come to my door in her chair, having

mistaken the house. As soon as she entered I saw she was Mr. Isaac's

scholar, by her speaking air, and the becoming stop she made when she

began her apology. "You will be surprised, sir," said she, "that I

take this liberty, who am utterly a stranger to you; besides that, it

may be thought an indecorum that I visit a man." She made here a

pretty hesitation, and held her fan to her face. Then, as if

recovering her resolution, she proceeded, "But I think you have said,

that men of your age are of no sex; therefore, I may be as free with

you as with one of my own."'

[Illustration]

The fine lady consults Mr. Bickerstaff on a trivial subject; she then

describes to him the honour he should esteem her visit; the number of

calls she is compelled to make, out of custom or ceremony, taking her

miles round; several acquaintances on her visiting list having been

punctually called on every week, and yet never seen for more than a

year. Then follows an account of a visiting list for 1708:--

Mrs. Courtwood--_Debtor._ Per contra--_Creditor._

To seventeen hundred and By eleven hundred and

four visits received 1704 nine paid 1109

Due to balance 595--1704

No. 111. THE 'TATLER.'--_Dec. 24, 1709._

Oh! mortal man, thou that art born in sin!

_The Bellman's Midnight Homily._

Mr. Bickerstaff is meditating on mental infirmities; after examining

the faults of others, he is disposed to philosophise on his own bad

propensities, and his cautiousness to keep them within reasonable

subjection.

'I have somewhere either read or heard a very memorable sentence,

"that a man would be a most insupportable monster, should he have the

faults that are incident to his years, constitution, profession,

family, religion, age, and country;" and yet every man is in danger of

them all. For this reason, as I am an old man, I take particular care

to avoid being covetous, and telling long stories. As I am choleric, I

forbear not only swearing, but all interjections of fretting, as pugh!

or pish! and the like. As I am a lay-man, I resolve not to conceive an

aversion for a wise and good man, because his coat is of a different

colour from mine. As I am descended of the ancient family of the

Bickerstaffs, I never call a man of merit an upstart. As a Protestant,

I do not suffer my zeal so far to transport me as to name the Pope and

the Devil together. As I am fallen into this degenerate age, I guard

myself particularly against the folly I have now been speaking of. As

I am an Englishman, I am very cautious not to hate a stranger, or

despise a poor palatine.'

[Illustration]

No. 116. THE 'TATLER.'--_Jan. 5, 1710._

The 'Tatler,' still maintaining his court for the examination of

frivolities in costume, is engaged in giving judgment on female

fashions. The hooped petticoat is the subject before his worshipful

board. A fair offender has been captured, and stripped of her

encumbrances until she is reduced to dimensions which will allow her

to enter the house; the petticoat is then hung up to the roof--its

ample dimensions covering the entire court like a canopy. The late

wearer had the sense to confess that she 'should be glad to see an

example made of it, that she wore it for no other reason but that she

had a mind to look as big and burly as other persons of her quality,

and that she kept out of it as long as she could and until she began

to appear little in the eyes of her acquaintance.' After hearing

arguments concerning the encouragement the wearing of these monstrous

appendages offered to the woollen manufacturers, to the rope and cord

makers, and to the whalebone fisheries of Greenland, the 'Tatler'

pronounced his decision that the expense thus entailed on fathers and

husbands, and the prejudice to the ladies themselves, 'who could never

expect to have any money in the pocket if they laid out so much on the

petticoat,' together with the fact that since the introduction of

these garments several persons of quality were in the habit of cutting

up their cast gowns to strengthen their stiffening, instead of

bestowing them as perquisites or in charity, determined him to seize

the petticoat as a forfeiture, to be sent as a present to a widow

gentlewoman, who had five daughters, to be made into petticoats for

each, the remainder to be returned to be cut up into stomachers and

caps, facings for waistcoat sleeves, and other garniture. He thus

concludes: 'I consider woman as a beautiful, romantic animal, that may

be adorned with furs and feathers, pearls and diamonds, ores and

silks. The lynx shall cast its skin at her feet to make her a tippet;

the peacock, parrot, and swan shall pay contributions to her muff; the

sea shall be searched for shells, and the rocks for gems; and every

part of nature furnish out its share towards the embellishment of a

creature that is the most consummate work of it. All this I shall

indulge them in; but as for the petticoat I have been speaking of I

neither can nor will allow it.'

[Illustration]

No. 145. THE 'TATLER.'--_March 14, 1710._

Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos.

--_Virg. Ecl._ III. 103.

Ah! what ill eyes bewitch my tender lambs?

[Illustration]

'This paper was allotted for taking into consideration a late request

of two indulgent parents, touching the care of a young daughter, whom

they design to send to a boarding-school, or keep at home, according

to my determination; but I am diverted from that subject by letters

which I have received from several ladies, complaining of a certain

sect of professed enemies to the repose of the fair sex, called

oglers. These are, it seems, gentlemen who look with deep attention on

one object at the playhouses, and are ever staring all round them in

churches. It is urged by my correspondents, that they do all that is

possible to keep their eyes off these ensnarers; but that, by what

power they know not, both their diversions and devotions are

interrupted by them in such a manner as that they cannot attend to

either, without stealing looks at the persons whose eyes are fixed

upon them. By this means, my petitioners say, they find themselves

grow insensibly less offended, and in time enamoured of these their

enemies. What is required of me on this occasion is, that as I love

and study to preserve the better part of mankind, the females, I would

give them some account of this dangerous way of assault; against which

there is so little defence, that it lays ambush for the sight itself,

and makes them seeingly, knowingly, willingly, and forcibly go on to

their own captivity. The naturalists tell us that the rattlesnake will

fix himself under a tree where he sees a squirrel playing; and when he

has once got the exchange of a glance from the pretty wanton, will

give it such a sudden stroke on its imagination, that though it may

play from bough to bough, and strive to avert its eyes from it for

some time, yet it comes nearer and nearer, by little intervals looking

another way, until it drops into the jaws of the animal, which it knew

gazed at it for no other reason but to ruin it. I did not believe

this piece of philosophy until the night when I made my observations

of the play of eyes at the opera, where I then saw the same thing pass

between an ogler and a coquette.'

No. 146. THE 'TATLER.'--_March 16, 1710._

Intrust thy fortune to the Powers above;

Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant

What their unerring wisdom sees thee want:

In wisdom as in greatness they excel;

Ah! that we lov'd ourselves but half so well!

We, blindly by our headstrong passions led,

Are hot for action, and desire to wed;

Then wish for heirs, but to the gods alone

Our future offspring and our wives are known.

_Juv. Sat., Dryden._

[Illustration]

'As I was sitting after dinner in my elbow-chair, I took up Homer, and

dipped into that famous speech of Achilles to Priam,[19] in which he

tells him that Jupiter has by him two great vessels, the one filled

with blessings, and the other with misfortunes; out of which he

mingles a composition for every man that comes into the world. This

passage so exceedingly pleased me, that, as I fell insensibly into my

afternoon's slumber, it wrought my imagination into the following

dream:--

'When Jupiter took into his hands the government of the world, the

several parts of nature with the presiding deities did homage to him.

One presented him with a mountain of winds, another with a magazine of

hail, and a third with a pile of thunderbolts. The Stars offered up

their influences; Ocean gave his trident, Earth her fruits, and the

Sun his seasons.

'Among others the Destinies advanced with two great urns, one of which

was fixed on the right hand of Jove's throne, and the other on the

left. The first was filled with all the blessings, the second with all

the calamities, of human life. Jupiter, in the beginning of his reign,

poured forth plentifully from the right hand; but as mankind,

degenerating, became unworthy of his blessings, he broached the other

vessel, which filled the earth with pain and poverty, battles and

distempers, jealousy and falsehood, intoxicating pleasures and

untimely deaths. He finally, in despair at the depravity of human

nature, resolved to recall his gifts and lay them in store until the

world should be inhabited by a more deserving race.

'The three sisters of Destiny immediately repaired to the earth in

search of the several blessings which had been scattered over it, but

found great difficulties in their task. The first places they resorted

to, as the most likely of success, were cities, palaces, and courts;

but instead of meeting with what they looked for here, they found

nothing but envy, repining, uneasiness, and the like bitter

ingredients of the left-hand vessel; whereas, to their great surprise,

they discovered content, cheerfulness, health, innocence, and other

the most substantial blessings of life, in cottages, shades, and

solitudes. In other places the blessings had been converted into

calamities, and misfortunes had become real benefits, while in many

cases the two had entered into alliance. In their perplexity the

Destinies were compelled to throw all the blessings and calamities

into one vessel, and leave them to Jupiter to use his own discretion

in their future distribution.'

No. 148. THE 'TATLER.'--_March 21, 1710._

They ransack ev'ry element for choice

Of ev'ry fish and fowl, at any price.

'I may, perhaps, be thought extravagant in my notion; but I confess I

am apt to impute the dishonours that sometimes happen in great

families to the inflaming diet which is so much in fashion. For this

reason we see the florid complexion, the strong limb, and the hale

constitution are to be found among the meaner sort of people, or in

the wild gentry who have been educated among the woods or mountains;

whereas many great families are insensibly fallen off from the

athletic constitution of their progenitors, and are dwindled away into

a pale, sickly, spindle-legged generation of valetudinarians.

'I look upon a French ragoût to be as pernicious to the stomach as a

glass of spirits; and when I see a young lady swallow all the

instigations of high soups, seasoned sauces, and forced meats, I have

wondered at the despair or tedious sighing of her lovers.

[Illustration]

'The rules among these false delicates are, to be as contradictory as

they can be to nature. They admit of nothing at their tables in its

natural form, or without some disguise. They are to eat everything

before it comes in season, and to leave it off as soon as it is good

to be eaten.

'I remember I was last summer invited to a friend's house, who is a

great admirer of the French cookery, and, as the phrase is, "eats

well." At our sitting down, I found the table covered with a great

variety of unknown dishes. I was mightily at a loss to learn what they

were, and therefore did not know where to help myself. That which

stood before me I took to be roasted porcupine--however, I did not

care for asking questions--and have since been informed that it was

only a larded turkey. I afterwards passed my eye over several hashes,

which I do not know the names of to this day; and, hearing that they

were delicacies, did not think fit to meddle with them. Among other

dainties, I saw something like a pheasant, and therefore desired to be

helped to a wing of it; but to my great surprise, my friend told me it

was a rabbit, which is a sort of meat I never cared for. Even the

dessert was so pleasingly devised and ingeniously arranged that I

cared not to displace it.

'As soon as this show was over, I took my leave, that I might finish

my dinner at my own house; for as I in everything love what is simple

and natural, so particularly my food. Two plain dishes, with two or

three good-natured, cheerful, ingenuous friends, would make me more

pleased and vain than all that pomp and luxury can bestow; for it is

my maxim that "he keeps the greatest table who has the most valuable

company at it."'

No. 155. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 17, 1710._

When he had lost all business of his own,

He ran in quest of news through all the town.

'There lived some years since, within my neighbourhood, a very grave

person, an upholsterer,[20] who seemed a man of more than ordinary

application to business. He was a very early riser, and was often

abroad two or three hours before any of his neighbours. He had a

particular carefulness in the knitting of his brows, and a kind of

impatience in all his motions, that plainly discovered he was always

intent upon matters of importance. Upon my inquiry into his life and

conversation, I found him to be the greatest newsmonger in our

quarter; that he rose before day to read the "Postman;" and that he

would take two or three turns to the other end of the town before his

neighbours were up, to see if there were any Dutch mails come in. He

had a wife and several children; but was much more inquisitive to know

what passed in Poland than in his own family, and was in greater pain

and anxiety of mind for King Augustus's welfare than that of his

nearest relations. He looked extremely thin in a dearth of news, and

never enjoyed himself in a westerly wind. This indefatigable kind of

life was the ruin of his shop; for, about the time that his favourite

prince left the crown of Poland, he broke and disappeared.

[Illustration]

'This man and his affairs had been long out of my mind, until about

three days ago, as I was walking in St. James's Park, I heard somebody

at a distance hemming after me; and who should it be but my old

neighbour the upholsterer! I saw he was reduced to extreme poverty, by

certain shabby superfluities in his dress; for notwithstanding that it

was a very sultry day for the time of the year, he wore a loose

great-coat and a muff, with a long campaign wig out of curl; to which

he had added the ornament of a pair of black garters buckled under the

knee. Upon his coming up to me, I was going to inquire into his

present circumstances; but I was prevented by his asking me, with a

whisper, "whether the last letters brought any accounts that one might

rely upon from Bender." I told him, "None that I heard of;" and asked

him "whether he had yet married his eldest daughter." He told me, "No;

but pray," says he, "tell me sincerely, what are your thoughts of the

King of Sweden?" For, though his wife and children were starving, I

found his chief concern at present was for this great monarch. I told

him "that I looked upon him as one of the first heroes of the age."

"But pray," says he, "do you think there is any truth in the story of

his wound?" And finding me surprised at the question, "Nay," says he,

"I only propose it to you." I answered "that I thought there was no

reason to doubt of it." "But why in the heel," says he, "more than in

any other part of the body?" "Because," said I, "the bullet chanced to

light there."

'We were now got to the upper end of the Mall, where were three or

four very odd fellows sitting together upon the bench. These I found

were all of them politicians, who used to sun themselves in that place

every day about dinner-time. Observing them to be curiosities in their

kind, and my friend's acquaintance, I sat down among them.

[Illustration]

'The chief politician of the bench was a great asserter of paradoxes.

He told us, with a seeming concern, "that, by some news he had lately

read from Muscovy, it appeared to him that there was a storm gathering

in the Black Sea, which might in time do hurt to the naval forces of

this nation." To this he added, "that, for his part, he could not wish

to see the Turk driven out of Europe, which, he believed, could not

but be prejudicial to our woollen manufacture."

'He backed his assertions with so many broken hints and such a show of

depth and wisdom, that we gave ourselves up to his opinions. The

discourse at length fell upon a point which seldom escapes a knot of

true-born Englishmen; whether, in case of a religious war, the

Protestants would not be too strong for the Papists. This we

unanimously determined on the Protestant side.[21]

'When we had fully discussed this point, my friend the upholsterer

began to exert himself upon the present negotiations of peace; in

which he deposed princes, settled the bounds of kingdoms, and balanced

the power of Europe, with great justice and impartiality.

'I at length took my leave of the company, and was going away; but had

not gone thirty yards before the upholsterer hemmed again after me.

Upon his advancing towards me with a whisper, I expected to hear some

secret piece of news, which he had not thought fit to communicate to

the bench; but, instead of that, he desired me in my ear to lend him

half-a-crown. In compassion to so needy a statesman, and to dissipate

the confusion I found he was in, I told him, "if he pleased, I would

give him five shillings, to receive five pounds of him when the great

Turk was driven out of Constantinople;" which he very readily

accepted, but not before he had laid down to me the impossibility of

such an event as the affairs of Europe now stand.

'This paper I design for the peculiar benefit of those worthy citizens

who live more in a coffee-house than in their shops, and whose

thoughts are so taken up with foreign affairs that they forget their

customers.'

No. 163. THE 'TATLER.'--_April 25, 1710._

Suffenus has no more wit than a mere clown, when he

attempts to write verses; and yet he is never happier than

when he is scribbling; so much does he admire himself and

his compositions. And, indeed, this is the foible of every

one of us; for there is no man living who is not a

Suffenus in one thing or other.--_Catul. de Suffeno_, XX.

14.

'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

that would entertain me more agreeably; and that he would desire my

judgment upon every line, for that we had time enough before us until

the company came in."

[Illustration]

'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.

1.

When dress'd in laurel wreaths you shine,

And tune your soft melodious notes,

You seem a sister of the Nine,

Or Phœbus' self in petticoats.

2.

I fancy when your song you sing

(Your song you sing with so much art)

Your pen was pluck'd from Cupid's wing;

For, ah! it wounds me like a dart.

'"Why," says I, "this is a little nosegay of conceits, a very lump of

salt. Every verse has something in it that piques; and then the _dart_

in the last line is certainly as pretty a sting on the tail of an

epigram, for so I think you critics call it, as ever entered into the

thought of a poet." "Dear Mr. Bickerstaff," says he, shaking me by the

hand, "everybody knows you to be a judge of these things; and, to

tell you truly, I read over Roscommon's 'Translation of Horace's Art

of Poetry' three several times before I sat down to write the sonnet

which I have shown you. But you shall hear it again, and pray observe

every line of it; for not one of them shall pass without your

approbation. My friend Dick Easy," continued he, "assured me he would

rather have written that '_Ah!_' than to have been the author of the

'Æneid.'

'"He indeed objected that I made Mira's pen like a quill in one of the

lines and like a dart in the other." "But as to that--oh! as to that,"

says I, "it is but supposing Cupid to be like a porcupine, and his

quills and darts will be the same thing." He was going to embrace me

for the hint; but half-a-dozen critics coming into the room, whose

faces he did not like, he conveyed the sonnet into his pocket, and

whispered me in the ear, "he would show it me again as soon as his man

had written it over fair."'

No. 178. THE 'TATLER.'--_May 30, 1710._

[Illustration]

'When we look into the delightful history of the most ingenious Don

Quixote of La Mancha, and consider the exercises and manner of life of

that renowned gentleman, we cannot but admire the exquisite genius and

discerning spirit of Michael Cervantes; who has not only painted his

adventurer with great mastery in the conspicuous parts of his story,

which relate to love and honour, but also intimated in his ordinary

life, in his economy and furniture, the infallible symptoms he gave of

his growing phrenzy, before he declared himself a knight-errant. His

hall was furnished with old lances, halberds, and morions; his food,

lentiles; his dress, amorous. He slept moderately, rose early, and

spent his time in hunting. When by watchfulness and exercise he was

thus qualified for the hardships of his intended peregrinations, he

had nothing more to do but to fall hard to study; and, before he

should apply himself to the practical part, get into the methods of

making love and war by reading books of knighthood. As for raising

tender passions in him, Cervantes reports that he was wonderfully

delighted with a smooth intricate sentence; and when they listened at

his study-door, they could frequently hear him read aloud, "The

reason of the unreasonableness, which against my reason is wrought,

doth so weaken my reason, as with all reason I do justly complain of

your beauty." Again he would pause until he came to another charming

sentence, and, with the most pleasing accent imaginable, be loud at a

new paragraph: "The high heavens, which, with your divinity, do

fortify you divinely with the stars, make you deserveress of the

deserts that your greatness deserves." With these and other such

passages, says my author, the poor gentleman grew distracted, and was

breaking his brains day and night to understand and unravel their

sense.

'What I am now warning the people of is, that the newspapers of this

island are as pernicious to weak heads in England as ever books of

chivalry to Spain; and therefore shall do all that in me lies, with

the utmost care and vigilance imaginable, to prevent these growing

evils.'

Mr. Bickerstaff goes on to describe the private Bedlam he has provided

for such as are seized with these _rabid_ political _maladies_.

No. 186. THE 'TATLER.'--_June 17, 1710._

Virtue alone ennobles human kind,

And power should on her glorious footsteps wait.

'There is nothing more necessary to establish reputation than to

suspend the enjoyment of it. He that cannot bear the sense of merit

with silence, must of necessity destroy it; for fame being the general

mistress of mankind, whoever gives it to himself insults all to whom

he relates any circumstances to his own advantage. He is considered as

an open ravisher of that beauty for whom all others pine in silence.

But some minds are so incapable of any temperance in this particular,

that _on every second_ in their discourse you may observe an

earnestness in their eyes which shows they wait for your approbation;

and perhaps the next instant cast an eye in a glass to see how they

like themselves.

'Walking the other day in a neighbouring inn of court, I saw a more

happy and more graceful orator than I ever before had heard or read

of. A youth of about nineteen years of age was in an Indian

dressing-gown and laced cap, pleading a cause before a glass. The

young fellow had a very good air, and seemed to hold his brief in his

hand rather to help his action, than that he wanted notes for his

further information. When I first began to observe him, I feared he

would soon be alarmed; but he was so zealous for his client, and so

favourably received by the court, that he went on with great fluency

to inform the bench that he humbly hoped they would not let the merit

of the cause suffer by the youth and inexperience of the pleader; that

in all things he submitted to their candour; and modestly desired they

would not conclude but that strength of argument and force of reason

may be consistent with grace of action and comeliness of person.

[Illustration]

'To me (who see people every day in the midst of crowds, whomsoever

they seem to address, talk only to themselves and of themselves) this

orator was not so extravagant a man as perhaps another would have

thought him; but I took part in his success, and was very glad to find

he had in his favour judgment and costs, without any manner of

opposition.'

No. 204. THE 'TATLER.'--_July 29, 1710._

He with rapture hears

A title tingling in his tender ears.

_Francis's Horace, Sat._ V. 32.

[Illustration]

'Were distinctions used according to the rules of reason and sense,

those additions to men's names would be, as they were first intended,

significant of their worth, and not their persons; so that in some

cases it might be proper to say of a deceased ambassador, "The man is

dead; but his excellency will never die." It is, methinks, very unjust

to laugh at a Quaker, because he has taken up a resolution to treat

you with a word the most expressive of complaisance that can be

thought of, and with an air of good-nature and charity calls you

_Friend_. I say, it is very unjust to rally him for this term to a

stranger, when you yourself, in all your phrases of distinction,

confound phrases of honour into no use at all.

'Tom Courtly, who is the pink of courtesy, is an instance of how

little moment an undistinguishing application of sounds of honour are

to those who understand themselves. Tom never fails of paying his

obeisance to every man he sees who has title or office to make him

conspicuous; but his deference is wholly given to outward

considerations. I, who know him, can tell him within half an acre how

much land one man has more than another by Tom's bow to him. Title is

all he knows of honour, and civility of friendship; for this reason,

because he cares for no man living, he is religiously strict in

performing, what he calls, his respects to you. To this end he is very

learned in pedigree, and will abate something in the ceremony of his

approaches to a man, if he is in any doubt about the bearing of his

coat of arms. What is the most pleasant of all his character is, that

he acts with a sort of integrity in these impertinences; and though he

would not do any solid kindness, he is wonderfully just and careful

not to wrong his quality. But as integrity is very scarce in the

world, I cannot forbear having respect for the impertinent: it is some

virtue to be bound by anything. Tom and I are upon very good terms,

for the respect he has for the house of Bickerstaff. Though one cannot

but laugh at his serious consideration of things so little essential,

one must have a value even for a frivolous good conscience.'

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[13] Wycherley, in a letter to Pope (May 17, 1709), writes, 'Hitherto

your "Miscellanies" have safely run the gauntlet through all the

coffee-houses, which are now entertained with a whimsical new

newspaper called the "Tatler," which I suppose you have seen.'

[14] White's Chocolate-house was then lower down St. James's Street,

and on the opposite side to its present site.

[15] Will's Coffee-house was on the north side of Russell Street,

Covent Garden, now No. 23 Great Russell Street.

[16] The 'Grecian' was in Devereux Court, Strand.

[17] 'Shire Lane' was also the heading of numerous papers.

[18] Mr. Isaac, a famous dancing-master at that time, was a Frenchman

and Roman Catholic.

[19]

Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood,

The source of evil one, and one of good;

From thence the cup of mortal man he fills,

Blessings to those, to those distributes ills;

To most he mingles both: the wretch decreed

To taste the bad, unmixed, is curst indeed;

Pursu'd by wrongs, by meagre famine driven,

He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven.

_Pope's Hom. Il._ XIV. ver. 863.

[20] Arne, of Covent Garden; the father of Dr. Thomas Arne, the

musician, composer, and dramatic writer, who died in 1778.

[21] One who sat on my right hand, and, as I found by his discourse,

had been in the West Indies, assured us 'that it would be a very easy

matter for the Protestants to beat the Pope at sea;' and added, 'that

whenever such a war does break out, it must turn to the good of the

Leeward Isles.' Upon this, one who, as I afterwards found, was the

geographer of the company, told us for our comfort 'that there were

vast tracts of lands about the pole, inhabited by neither Protestants

nor Papists, and of greater extent than all the Roman Catholic

dominions in Europe.'