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 the Cornell University Library. 
 
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The Tatler 
 
 Edited with Introduction & Notes 
 
 by 
 
 George A. Aitken 
 
 tAutkor of 
 
 " The Life of Richard Steele," tifc. 
 
 VOL. Ill 
 
 London 
 Duckworth &' Co. 
 
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 1899 
 

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 At the Ballantyne Press 
 
The Tatler 
 
 Edited hy 
 
 George A. Aitken 
 
 In Four Volumes 
 Volume Three 
 
In compliance with current 
 
 copyright law, LBS Archival 
 
 Products produced this 
 
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 that meets the ANSI Standard 
 
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 1987 
 
To the Right Honourable 
 
 William Lord Cowper 
 
 Baron of Wingham^ 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 After having long celebrated the superior graces and 
 excellences among men, in an imaginary character, 
 I do myself the honour to show my veneration for tran- 
 scendent merit, under my own name, in this address to 
 your lordship. The just application of those high accom- 
 
 • William Cowper was appointed King's counsel about 1694 ; he 
 succeeded Sir Nathan Wright, as Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, 
 October 11, 1705; was created Baron Cowper of Wingham, 
 November 9, 1706 ; and was appointed Lord Chancellor, May 4, 1707, 
 which post he held till September 14, 1710. On the accession of 
 King George, he was again appointed Lord Chancellor, and, on 
 resigning the Great Seal, was created Earl Cowper and Viscount 
 Fordwich, March 18, 1717-18. He died in 1723. Lord Cowper 
 refused to accept New Year's gifts from the counsellors at law, which 
 had been long given to his predecessors, and, when he was Chancellor, 
 though in friendship with the Duke of Marlborough, and of the same 
 political principles, he refused to put the broad seal of his office to a 
 commission for making his Grace generalissimo for life. "When 
 Steele's patent, as Governor of the Theatre Royal, passed the Great 
 Seal, Lord Chancellor Cowper, in compliment to Sir Richard, would 
 receive no fee" (Gibber's "Apology"), He was praised by Hughes, 
 under the name of " Manilius," in No. 467 of the Spectator. 
 
 VOL. III. I A 
 
I' he I'atler r-^^ Dedication 
 
 plishments of which you are master, has been an advantage 
 to all your fellow subjects ; and it is from the common 
 obligation you have laid upon all the world, that I, though 
 a private man, can pretend to be affected with, or take the 
 liberty to acknowledge your great talents and public 
 virtues. 
 
 It gives a pleasing prospect to your friends, that is to 
 say, to the friends of your country, that you have passed 
 through the highest offices, at an age when others usually 
 do but form to themselves the hopes of them.* They 
 may expect to see you in the House of Lords as many 
 years as you were ascending to it. It is our common 
 good, that your admirable eloquence can now no longer be 
 employed but in the expression of your own sentiments 
 and judgment. The skilful pleader is now for ever 
 changed into the just judge ; which latter character your 
 lordship exerts with so prevailing an impartiality, that 
 you win the approbation even of those who dissent from 
 you, and you always obtain favour, because you are never 
 moved by it. 
 
 This gives you a certain dignity peculiar to your 
 present situation, and makes the equity, even of a Lord 
 High Chancellor, appear but a degree towards the mag- 
 nanimity of a peer of Great Britain. 
 
 Forgive me, my lord, when I cannot conceal from you, 
 that I shall never hereafter behold you, but I shall behold 
 you, as lately, defending the brave, and the unfortunate.' 
 
 When we attend to your lordship, engaged in a dis- 
 course, we cannot but reflect upon the many requisites 
 
 ^ The date of Lord Cowper's birth is not known, but in 1 710 he 
 was probably about 46. He entered the Middle Temple in 1682. 
 
 2 In a pamphlet entitled "A Letter to Isaac Bickerstaff," 17 10, 
 Lord Cowper defended the character of the Duchess of Marlborough 
 against an attack by Bolingbroke in a " Letter to the Examiner" 
 
 2 
 
r^tf Dedication The 'Tutler 
 
 which the vainglorious speakers of antiquity have de- 
 manded in a man who is to excel in oratory ; I say, my 
 lord, when we reflect upon the precepts by viewing the 
 example, though there is no excellence proposed by those 
 rhetoricians wanting, the whole art seems to be resolved 
 into that one motive of speaking, sincerity in the intention. 
 The graceful manner, the apt gesture, and the assumed 
 concern, are impotent helps to persuasion, in comparison 
 of the honest countenance of him who utters what he 
 really means. From hence it is, that all the beauties 
 which others attain with labour, are in your lordship but 
 the natural effects of the heart that dictates. 
 
 It is this noble simplicity which makes you surpass man- 
 kind in the faculties wherein mankind are distinguished 
 from other creatures, reason and speech. 
 
 If these gifts were communicated to all men in propor- 
 tion to the truth and ardour of their hearts, I should speak 
 of you with the same force as you express yourself on any 
 other subject. But I resist my present impulse, as agree- 
 able as it is to me ; though indeed, had I any pretensions 
 to a fame of this kind, I should, above all other themes, 
 attempt a panegyric upon my Lord Cowper : for the 
 only sure way to a reputation for eloquence, in an age 
 wherein that perfect orator lives, is to choose an argument, 
 upon which he himself must of necessity be silent. I am, 
 
 My Lord, your Lordship's 
 
 Most devoted, most obedient, and 
 
 Most humble Servant, 
 
 Richard Steele. 
 
The Tatler 
 
 By ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esa- 
 
 No. 115. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, Dec. 31, 1709, to Tuesday, Jan. 3, 1709-10. 
 
 ■ Novum intervenit vitium et calamitas. 
 
 Ut neque spectari, neque cognosci potuerit : 
 Ita populus studio stupidus in funambulo 
 Animum occuparat. — Ter., Hecyra, Prologue, 
 
 Sheer Lane, January 1. 
 
 I went on Friday last to the opera, and was surprised to 
 find a thin house at so noble an entertainment, till I 
 heard that the tumbler' was not to make his appearance 
 that night. For my own part, I was fully satisfied with 
 the sight of an actor, who, by the grace and propriety of 
 his action and gesture, does honour to a human figure, as 
 much as the other vilifies and degrades it. Every one 
 will easily imagine I mean Signor Nicolini," who sets off 
 
 > See No. 108. 
 
 " Cavalier Nicolini Grimaldi was a Neapolitan actor and singer, 
 who appeared first in England in McSwiney's " Pyrrhus and 
 Demetrius." He is often mentioned in the Spectator (see Nos. 5," 
 13, +05), and seems to have been a friend of both Addison and 
 Steele. Addison praises him alike as an actor and as a singer. The 
 following letter from Hughes to Nicolini, dated February 4, 1709-10, 
 is given in Hughes' "Correspondence" (Dublin, 1773, i. 33-4): 
 "Depuis que j'ai eu I'honneur d'etre chez vous l. la repetition de 
 
 5 
 
T^he 'Tatler No. 115. January 3, 1709-10 
 
 the character he bears in an opera by his action, as much 
 as he does the words of it by his voice. Every limb, and 
 every finger, contributes to the part he acts, insomuch that 
 a deaf man might go along with him in the sense of it. 
 There is scarce a beautiful posture in an old statue which 
 he does not plant himself in, as the different circumstances 
 
 I'opera, j'ai dine avec Mr. Steele, et la conversation roulante sur vous, 
 je lui dis la mani^re obligeante dont je vous avois ou parler de Mr. 
 BickerstaiF, en disant que vous aviez beaucoup d'incHnation a etudier 
 I'Anglois pour avoir seulement le plaisir de lire le Tatler. II trouvre 
 que votre compjiment a I'auteur du Tatkr est fort galant.'' Nicolini 
 sang in Italian to the English of Mrs. Tofts (see No. 20, and Spectator, 
 No. 22), but Gibber observes that " whatever defect the fashionably 
 skilful might find in her manner, she had, in the general sense of her 
 spectators, charms that few of the most learned singers ever arrive at." 
 A letter from Lady Wentworth, dated December 10, 1708, gives us 
 a curious glimpse of Nicolini and Mrs. Tofts : " My dearest and. 
 best of children. . . Yesterday I had lyke to have been ketched in a 
 trap, your Brother Wentworth had almoste persuaded me to have gon 
 last night to hear the fyne muisick the famous Etallion sing att the 
 rehersall of the Operer, which he asured me it was soe dark none 
 could see me. Indeed musick was the greatest temtation I could 
 have, but I was afraid he deceaved me, soe Betty only went with his 
 wife and him ; and I rejoysed I did not, for thear was a vast deal of 
 company and good light — but the Dutchis of Molbery had gott the 
 Etallion to sing and he sent an excuse, but the Dutchis of Shrosberry 
 made him com, brought him in her coach, but Mrs. Taufs huft and 
 would not sing becaus he had first put it ofe ; though she was thear 
 yet she would not, but went away, I wish the house would al joyne 
 to humble her and not receav her again. This man out dus Sefachoe, 
 they say that has hard both "(" Wentworth Papers," 1883, p, 66). 
 Mr. Cartwright quotes from a letter in Lord Egmont's collection, 
 dated March 17, 1709: "This day the opera of 'Camilla 'is acted 
 expressly for Lord Marlborough. Our famous Nicolini got 800 
 guineas for his day ; and 'tis thought Mrs. Tofts, whose turn it is on 
 Tuesday next, will get a vast deal. She was on Sunday last at the 
 Duke of Somerset's, where there was about thirty gentlemen, and 
 every kiss was one guinea ; some took three, others four, others five, 
 at that rate, but none less than one " (Seventh Report of Hist. MSS. 
 Commission, p. 246). 
 
 6 
 
No. 115. Januarys, 1709-10 T'hc T'atler 
 
 of the story give occasion for it. He performs the most 
 ordinary action in a manner suitable to the greatness of his 
 character, and shows the prince even in the giving of a 
 letter, or the despatching of a message. Our best actors 
 are somewhat at a loss to support themselves with proper 
 gesture, as they move from any considerable distance to 
 the front of the stage ; but I have seen the person of 
 whom I am now speaking, enter alone at the remotest part 
 of it, and advance from it with such greatness of air and 
 mien, as seemed to fill the stage, and at the same time 
 commanding the attention of the audience with the 
 majesty of his appearance. But notwithstanding the dignity 
 and elegance of this entertainment, I find for some nights 
 past, that Punchinello has robbed the gentleman of the 
 greater part of his female spectators. The truth of it is, 
 I find it so very hard a task to keep that sex under any 
 manner of government, that I have often resolved to give 
 them over entirely, and leave them to their own inventions. 
 I was in hopes that I had brought them to some order, 
 and was employing my thoughts on the reformation of 
 their petticoats, when on a sudden I received informa- 
 tion from all parts, that they run gadding after a puppet- 
 show. I know very well, that what I here say will be 
 thought by some malicious persons to flow from envy to 
 Mr. Powell ; for which reason, I shall set the late dispute 
 between us in a true light.' Mr. Powell and I had some 
 difference about four months ago, which we managed by 
 way of letter, as learned men ought to do ; and I was very 
 well contented to bear such sarcasms as he was pleased to 
 throw upon me, and answered them with the same 
 freedom. In the midst of this our misunderstanding and 
 correspondence, I happened to give the world an account 
 of the order of esquires'; upon which, Mr. Powell was so 
 1 See Nos. 1 1, 44, 45. ^ See No. 19. 
 
 7 
 
Jihe jLatler No. 115. January 3, 1709-10 
 
 disingenuous, as to make one of his puppets (I wish I 
 knew which of them it was) declare by way of prologue, 
 that one Isaac BickerstafF, a pretended esquire, had wrote a 
 scurrilous piece to the dishonour of that rank of men ; and 
 then, with more art than honesty, concluded, that all the 
 esquires in the pit were abused by his antagonist as much 
 he was. This public accusation made all the esquires of that 
 county, and several of other parts, my professed enemies. I 
 do not in the least question but that he will proceed in his 
 hostilities ; and I am informed, that part of his design in 
 coming up to town was to carry the war into my own 
 quarters. I do therefore solemnly declare (notwithstand- 
 ing that I am a great lover of art and ingenuity) that if I 
 hear he opens any of his people's mouths against me, I 
 shall not fail to write a critique upon his whole perform- 
 ance ; for I must confess, that I have naturally so strong 
 a desire of praise, that I cannot bear reproach, though 
 from a piece of timber. As for Punch, who takes all 
 opportunities of bespattering me, I know very well his 
 original, and have been assured by the joiner who put him 
 together, that he was in long dispute with himself, whether 
 he should turn him into several pegs and utensils, or make 
 him the man he is. The same person confessed to me, 
 that he had once actually laid aside his head for a nut- 
 cracker. As for his scolding wife (however she may value 
 herself at present), it is very well known that she is but a 
 piece of crabtree. This artificer further whispered in my 
 ear, that all his courtiers and nobles were taken out of a 
 quickset hedge not far from Islington ; and that Dr. 
 Faustus himself, who is now so great a conjurer, is sup- 
 posed to have learned his whole art from an old woman in 
 that neighbourhood, whom he long served in the figure of 
 a broomstaff. 
 
 But perhaps it may look trivial to insist so much upon 
 
 8 
 
No. 115. Januarys, 1 709-IO T'he I'atler 
 
 men's persons ; I shall therefore turn my thoughts rather 
 to examine their behaviour, and consider, whether the 
 several parts are written up to that character which Mr. 
 Powell piques himself upon, of an able and judicious 
 dramatist. I have for this purpose provided myself with 
 the works of above twenty French critics, and shall 
 examine (by the rules which they have laid down upon 
 the art of the stage) whether the unity of time, place and 
 action, be rightly observed in any one of this celebrated 
 author's productions ; as also, whether in the parts of his 
 several actors, and that of Punch in particular, there is not 
 sometimes an impropriety of sentiments, and an impurity 
 of diction. 
 
 White's Chocolate-house, "January %. 
 
 T came in here to-day at an hour when only the dead 
 -*■ appear in places of resort and gallantry, and saw hung 
 up the escutcheon of Sir Hannibal,' a gentleman who used 
 to frequent this place, and was taken up and interred by 
 the Company of Upholders, as having been seen here at 
 an unlicensed hour. The coat of the deceased is, three 
 
 ' Sir James Baker, known as the "Knight of the Peak " ; see No. 
 1 1 8. Steele's comments on gambling in the Tatler brought upon him 
 the anger of many of the sharpers. There is a well-known story that 
 Lord Forbes, Major-General Davenport, and Brigadier Bisset were in 
 the St. James's Coffee-house when some well-dressed men entered, and 
 began to abuse Steele as the author of the Tatler, One of them 
 swore that he would cut Steele's throat or teach him better manners. 
 " In this country," said Lord Forbes, " you will find it easier to cut a 
 purse than to cut a throat " ; and the cut-throats were soon turned 
 out of the house with every mark of disgrace. A similar incident is 
 described in a recently published letter from Lady Marow to her 
 daughter, Lady Kaye (" Manuscripts of the Earl of Dartmouth," iii. 
 148 ; Hist. MSS. Comm., Fifteenth Report, Part L). Writing on 
 January 5, 1709-10, Lady Marow says: "All the town are full of the 
 Tatler, which I hope you have to prepare you for discourse, for no 
 
 9 
 
^rhe Tatler No. 115. January 3, 1709-10 
 
 bowls and a jack in a green field ; the crest, a dice-box, 
 with the king of clubs and Pam for supporters. Some 
 days ago the body was carried out of town with great 
 pomp and ceremony, in order to be buried with his 
 ancestors at the Peak. It is a maxim in morality, that we 
 are to speak nothing but truth of the living, nothing but 
 good of the dead. As I have carefully observed the first 
 during his lifetime, I shall acquit myself as to the latter 
 now he is deceased. 
 
 He was knighted very young, not in the ordinary form, 
 but by the common consent of mankind. 
 
 He was in his person between round and square ; in 
 the motion and gesture of his body he was unaffected and 
 free, as not having too great a respect for superiors. He 
 was in his discourse bold and intrepid ; and as every one 
 has an excellence as well as a failing which distinguishes 
 him from other men, eloquence was his predominant 
 quality, which he had to so great a perfection, that it was 
 easier to him to speak than to hold his tongue. This 
 sometimes exposed him to the derision of men who had 
 much less parts than himself : and indeed his great volu- 
 bility and inimitable manner of speaking, as well as the 
 great courage he showed on those occasions, did sometimes 
 betray him into that figure of speech which is commonly 
 distinguished by the name of" gasconade." To mention no 
 other, he professed in this very place some few days before 
 he died, that he would be one of the six that would under- 
 
 visit is made that I hear of but Mr. BickerstaiFis mentioned, and I 
 am told he has done so much good that the sharpers cannot increase 
 their stocks as they did formerly ; for one Young came into the 
 chocolate-house, and said he would stop Mr. BickerstafF if he knew 
 him. Mr. Steele, who is thought to write the Tatler, heard Young 
 say so, and, when he went out of the house, said he should walk in 
 St. James's Park an hour, if any would speak with him ; but the 
 Hector took no notice." 
 
 10 
 
No. 115. January 3, 1709-10 The T CI tier 
 
 take to assault me ; for which reason I have had his 
 figure upon my wall till the hour of his death : and am 
 resolved for the future to bury every one forthwith who I 
 hear has an intention to kill me. 
 
 Since I am upon the subject of my adversaries, I shall 
 here publish a short letter which I have received from a 
 well-wisher, and is as follows : 
 
 "Sage Sir, 
 
 " 'VT'ou cannot but know, there are many scribblers and 
 ■■' others who revile you and your writings. It is 
 wondered that you do not exert yourself, and crush them 
 at once. I am, 
 
 " Sir (with great respect), 
 
 " Your most humble Admirer 
 
 " and Disciple." 
 
 In answer to this, I shall act like my predecessor iEsop, 
 ahd give him a fable instead of a reply. 
 
 It happened one day, as a stout and honest mastiff (that 
 guarded the village where he lived against thieves and 
 robbers) was very gravely walking, with one of his puppies 
 by his side, all the little dogs in the street gathered about 
 him, and barked at him. The little puppy was so offended 
 at this affront done to his sire, that he asked him why 
 he would not fall upon them, and tear them to pieces ? 
 
 To which the sire answered, with a great composure of 
 mind, " If there were no curs, I should be no mastiff." ' 
 
 ' In the original folio number, after indication of certain errata in 
 No. 1 14, comes the following note : " The reader is desired not to 
 pronounce anything in any one of these writings nonsense, till the 
 following paper comes out." 
 
 II 
 
The Tatler No. n 6. January 5, 1709-10 
 
 No. 116. [Addison. 
 
 From 'Tuesday, Jan. 3, to Thursday., Jan. 5, 1709-10. 
 
 Pars minima est ipsa puella sui. 
 
 Ovid, Rem. Amor. 344.. 
 
 Sheer Lane, January 4. 
 
 The court being prepared for proceeding on the cause 
 of the petticoat, I gave orders to bring in a criminal 
 who was taken up as she went out of the puppet-show 
 about three nights ago, and was now standing in the street 
 with a great concourse of people about her. Word was 
 brought me, that she had endeavoured twice or thrice to 
 come in, but could not do it by reason of her petticoat, 
 which was too large for the entrance of my hbuse, though 
 I had ordered both the folding-doors to be thrown open 
 for its reception. Upon this, I desired the jury of matrons, 
 who stood at my right hand, to inform themselves of her 
 condition, and know whether there were any private reasons 
 why she might not make her appearance separate from her 
 petticoat. This was managed with great discretion, and 
 had such an eifect, that upon the return of the verdict from 
 the bench of matrons, I issued out an order forthwith, that 
 the criminal should be stripped of her encumbrances, till she 
 became little enough to enter my house. I had before 
 given directions for an engine of several legs, that could 
 contract or open itself like the top of an umbrello,* in order 
 to place the petticoat upon it, by which means I might 
 take a leisurely survey of it, as it should appear in its 
 proper dimensions. This was all done accordingly ; and 
 
 ' Swift uses this form of the word : " It served him for a nightcap 
 when he went to bed, and for an umbrello in rainy whether." 
 
 12 
 
No. 1 1 6. January 5, 1709-10 T'he T'dtlcr 
 
 forthwith, upon the closing of the engine, the petticoat 
 was brought into court. I then directed the machine ta 
 be set upon the table, and dilated in such a manner as to 
 show the garment in its utmost circumference ; but my 
 great hall was too narrow for the experiment ; for before 
 it was half unfolded, it described so immoderate a circle, 
 that the lower part of it brushed upon my face as I sate 
 in my chair of judicature. I then inquired for the person 
 that belonged to the petticoat ; and to my great surprise, 
 was directed to a very beautiful young damsel, with so- 
 pretty a face and shape, that I bid her come out of the 
 crowd, and seated her upon a little crock at my left hand. 
 " My pretty maid," said I, " do you own yourself to have 
 been the inhabitant of the garment before us ? " The 
 girl I found had good sense, and told me with a smile, 
 that notwithstanding it was her own petticoat, she 
 should be very glad to see an example made of it ; and 
 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 ; that she had kept out of it as long as she could, 
 and till she began to appear little in the eyes of all her 
 acquaintance ; that if she laid it aside, people would think 
 she was not made like other women. I always give great 
 allowances to the fair sex upon account of the fashion, and 
 therefore was not displeased with the defence of my pretty 
 criminal. I then ordered the vest which stood before us 
 to be drawn up by a pulley to the top of my great hall, 
 and afterwards to be spread open by the engine it was 
 placed upon, in such a manner, that it formed a very 
 splendid and ample canopy over our heads, and covered 
 the whole court of judicature with a kind of silken 
 rotunda, in its form not unlike the cupola of St. Paul's, 
 I entered upon the whole cause with great satisfaction as I 
 sat under the shadow of it. 
 
 13 
 
±06 ±Cltl6r No. 1 1 6. January 5, 1709-10 
 
 The counsel for the petticoat was now called in, and 
 ordered to produce what they had to say against the 
 popular cry which was raised against it. They answered 
 the objections with great strength and solidity of argument, 
 and expatiated in very florid harangues, which they did 
 not fail to set off and furbelow (if I may be allowed the 
 metaphor) with many periodical sentences and turns of 
 oratory. The chief arguments for their client were taken, 
 first, from the great benefit that might arise to our woollen 
 manufactury from this invention, which was calculated as 
 follows : the common petticoat has not above four yards 
 in the circumference ; whereas this over our heads had 
 more in the semi-diameter ; so that by allowing it twenty- 
 four yards in the circumference, the five millions of woollen 
 petticoats, which (according to Sir William Petty) sup- 
 posing what ought to be supposed in a well-governed 
 state, that all petticoats are made of that stuff, would 
 amount to thirty millions of those of the ancient mode. 
 A prodigious improvement of the woollen trade ! and 
 what could not fail to sink the power of France in a few 
 years. 
 
 To introduce the second argument, they begged leave 
 to read a petition of the ropemakers, wherein it was 
 represented, that the demand for cords, and the price of 
 them, were much risen since this fashion came up. At 
 this, all the company who were present lifted up their eyes 
 into the vault ; and I must confess, we did discover many 
 traces of cordage which were interwoven in the stiffening 
 of the drapery. 
 
 A third argument was founded upon a petition of the 
 Greenland trade, which likewise represented the great 
 consumption of whalebone which would be occasioned by 
 the present fashion, and the benefit which would thereby 
 accrue to that branch of the British trade. 
 
No. ii6. January 5, 1709-10 'The Tutler 
 
 To conclude, they gently touched upon the weight and 
 unwieldiness of the garment, which they insinuated might 
 be of great use to preserve the honour of families. 
 
 These arguments would have wrought very much upon 
 me (as I then told the company in a long and elaborate 
 discourse) had I not considered the great and additional 
 expense which such fashions would bring upon fathers and 
 husbands ; and therefore by no means to be thought of 
 till some years after a peace. I further urged, that it 
 would be a 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. To this I added, the great 
 temptation it might give to virgins, of acting in security 
 like married women, and by that means give a check to 
 matrimony, an institution always encouraged by wise 
 societies. 
 
 At the same time, in answer to the several petitions 
 produced on that side, I showed one subscribed by the 
 women of several persons of quality, humbly setting forth, 
 that since the introduction of this mode, their respective 
 ladies had, instead of bestowing on them their cast gowns, 
 cut them into shreds, and mixed them with the cordage 
 and buckram, to complete the stiffening of their under- 
 petticoats. For which, and sundry other reasons, I pro- 
 nounced the petticoat a forfeiture : but to show that I 
 did not make that judgment for the sake of filthy lucre, I 
 ordered it to be folded up, and sent it as a present to a 
 widow gentlewoman, who has five daughters, desiring she 
 would make each of them a petticoat out of it, and send 
 me back the remainder, which I design to cut into sto- 
 machers, caps, facings of my waistcoat sleeves, and other 
 garnitures suitable to my age and quality. 
 
 I would not be understood, that, while I discard this 
 monstrous invention, I am an enemy to the proper orna- 
 
 15 
 
The A at lev No. 117. January 7, 1709-10 
 
 ments of the fair sex. On the contrary, as the hand of 
 nature has poured on them such a profusion of charms and 
 graces, and sent them into the world more amiable and 
 finished than the rest of her works ; so I would have them 
 bestow upon themselves all the additional beauties that 
 art can supply them with, provided it does not interfere 
 with, disguise, or pervert, those of nature. 
 
 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. 
 
 No. 117. [Addison. 
 
 From "Thursday, Jan. 5, to Saturday, Jan. 7, 1709-10. 
 
 Durate, et vosmet rebus servate secundis. 
 
 ViRC, iEn. i. 207, 
 
 Sheer Lane, January 6. 
 "llfT'hen I look into the frame and constitution of my 
 "'^ own mind, there is no part of it which I observe 
 with greater satisfaction, than that tenderness and concern 
 which it bears for the good and happiness of mankind. 
 My own circumstances are indeed so narrow and scanty, 
 that I should taste but very little pleasure, could I receive 
 it only from those enjoyments which are in my own 
 possession ; but by this great tincture of humanity, 
 
 16 
 
No. 1 17. January 7, 1709-10 'The 'Tutler 
 
 which I find in all my thoughts and reflections, I am 
 happier than any single person can be, with all the wealth, 
 strength, beauty, and success, that can be conferred upon 
 a mortal, if he only relishes such a proportion of these 
 blessings as is vested in himself, and is his own private 
 property. By this means, every man that does himself 
 any real service, does me a kindness. I come in for my 
 share in all the good that happens to a man of merit and 
 virtue, and partake of many gifts of fortune and power 
 that I was never born to. There is nothing in particular 
 in which I so much rejoice, as the deliverance of good and 
 generous spirits out of dangers, difficulties, and distresses. 
 And because the world does not supply instances of this 
 kind to furnish out sufficient entertainments for such a 
 humanity and benevolence of temper, I have ever delighted 
 in reading the history of ages past, which draws together 
 into a narrow compass the great occurrences and events 
 that are but thinly sown in those tracts of time which lie 
 within our own knowledge and observation. When I see 
 the life of a great man, who has deserved well of his 
 country, after having struggled through all the opposi- 
 tions of prejudice and envy, breaking out with lustre, and 
 shining forth in all the splendour of success, I close my 
 book, and am a happy man for a whole evening. 
 
 But since in history events are of a mixed nature, and 
 often happen alike to the worthless and the deserving, 
 insomuch that we frequently see a virtuous man dying in 
 the midst of disappointments and calamities, and the 
 vicious ending their days in prosperity and peace, I love 
 to amuse myself with the accounts I meet with in fabulous 
 histories and fictions : for in this kind of writings we 
 have always the pleasure of seeing vice punished, and 
 virtue rewarded. Indeed, were we able to view a man in 
 the whole circle of his existence, we should have the 
 
 VOL. III. 17 B 
 
ihC idtlCf No. 117. January 7, 1709-10 
 
 satisfaction of seeing it close with happiness or misery, 
 according to his proper merit : but though our view of 
 him is interrupted by death before the finishing of his 
 adventures (if I may so speak), we may be sure that the 
 conclusion and catastrophe is altogether suitable to his 
 behaviour. On the contrary, the whole being of a man, 
 considered as a hero, or a knight-errant, is comprehended 
 within the limits of a poem or romance, and therefore 
 always ends to our satisfaction ; so that inventions of this 
 kind are like food and exercise to a good-natured disposi- 
 tion, which they please and gratify at the same time that 
 they nourish and strengthen. The greater the affliction 
 is in which we see our favourites in these relations engaged, 
 the greater is the pleasure we take in seeing them relieved. 
 Among the many feigned histories which I have met 
 with in my reading, there is none in which the hero's per- 
 plexity is greater, and the winding out of it more difficult, 
 than that in a French author whose name I have forgot. 
 It so happens, that the hero's mistress was the sister of his 
 most intimate friend, who for certain reasons was given 
 out to be dead, while he was preparing to leave his country 
 in quest of adventures. The hero having heard of his 
 friend's death, immediately repaired to his mistress, to con- 
 dole with her, and comfort her. Upon his arrival in her 
 garden, he discovered at a distance a man clasped in her 
 arms, and embraced with the most endearing tenderness. 
 What should he do .'' It did not consist with the gentle- 
 ness of a knight-errant either to kill his mistress, or the 
 man whom she was pleased to favour. At the same time, 
 it would have spoiled a romance, should he have laid 
 violent hands on himself In short, he immediately 
 entered upon his adventures ; and after a long series of 
 exploits, found out by degrees, that the person he saw in 
 his mistress's arms was her own brother, taking leave of 
 
 18 
 
No, 1 1 7- January 7, 1709-10 ±he Tat let 
 
 her before he left his country, and the embrace she gave 
 him nothing else but the affectionate farewell of a sister : 
 so that he had at once the two greatest satisfactions that 
 could enter into the heart of man, in finding his friend 
 alive, whom he thought dead ; and his mistress faithful, 
 whom he had believed inconstant. 
 
 There are indeed some disasters so very fatal, that it is 
 impossible for any accidents to rectify them. Of this kind 
 was that of poor Lucretia ; and yet we see Ovid has found 
 an expedient even in this case. He describes a beautiful 
 and royal virgin walking on the seashore, where she was 
 discovered by Neptune, and violated after a long and 
 unsuccessful importunity. To mitigate her sorrow, he 
 offers her whatever she would wish for. Never certainly 
 was the wit of woman more puzzled in finding out a 
 stratagem to retrieve her honour. Had she desired to be 
 changed into a stock or stone, a beast, fish or fowl, she 
 would have been a loser by it : or had she desired to have 
 been made a sea-nymph, or a goddess, her immortality 
 would but have perpetuated her disgrace. " Give me there- 
 fore," said she, " such a shape as may make me incapable of 
 suffering again the like calamity, or of being reproached 
 for what I have already suffered." To be short, she was 
 turned into a man, and by that only means avoided the 
 danger and imputation she so much dreaded. 
 
 I was once myself in agonies of grief that are unutter- 
 able, and in so great a distraction of mind, that I thought 
 myself even out of the possibility, of receiving comfort. 
 The occasion was as follows : When I was a youth in a 
 part of the army which was then quartered at Dover, I fell 
 in love with an agreeable young woman, of a good family 
 in those parts, and had the satisfaction of seeing my 
 addresses kindly received, which occasioned the perplexity 
 I am going to relate. 
 
 19 
 
±he iCltler No. 117. January 7, 1709-10 
 
 We were in a calm evening diverting ourselves upon the 
 top of the clifFwith the prospect of the sea, and trifling away 
 the time in such little fondnesses as are most ridiculous to 
 people in business, and most agreeable to those in love. 
 
 In the midst of these our innocent endearments, she 
 snatched a paper of verses out of my hand, and ran away 
 with them. I was following her, when on a sudden the 
 ground, though at a considerable distance from the 
 verge of the precipice, sank under her, and threw her 
 down from so prodigious a height upon such a range of 
 rocks, as would have dashed her into ten thousand pieces, 
 had her body been made of adamant. It is much easier for 
 my reader to imagine my state of mind upon such an 
 occasion, than for me to express it. I said to myself, " It 
 is not in the power of heaven to relieve me ! " when I 
 awoke, equally transported and astonished, to see myself 
 drawn out of an affliction which the very moment before 
 appeared to me altogether inextricable. 
 
 The impressions of grief and horror were so lively on 
 this occasion, that while they lasted, they made me more 
 miserable than I was at the real death of this beloved 
 person (which happened a few months after, at a time 
 when the match between us was concluded), inasmuch as 
 the imaginary death was untimely, and I myself in a sort 
 an accessory ; whereas her real decease had at least these 
 alleviations, of being natural and inevitable. 
 
 The memory of the dream I have related still dwells so 
 strongly upon me, that I can never read the description of 
 Dover CliiF in Shakespeare's tragedy of " King Lear," ' 
 without a fresh sense of my escape. The prospect from 
 that place is drawn with such proper incidents, that who- 
 ever can read it without growing giddy, must have a good 
 head, or a very bad one. 
 
 ' " King Lear," act iv. sc. 6. 
 
 20 
 
No. 1 18. January 10,1709-10 I'he I'atler 
 
 " Come on, sir, here's the place : stand still! How fearful 
 And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low ? 
 The crows and choughs that wing the midway air. 
 Show scarce as gross as beetles. Half-way down 
 Hangs one that gathers samphire. Dreadful trade ! 
 Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. 
 The fishermen that walk upon the beach. 
 Appear like mice, and yond' tall anchoring bark 
 Diminished to her boat ;^ her boat T a buoy 
 Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge 
 ( That on the unnumbered idle pebble beats') 
 Cannot be heard so high. Fll look no more. 
 Lest my brain turn."^ 
 
 No. 118. [Steele.' 
 
 From Saturday, Jan. 7, to "Tuesday, Jan. 10, 1709-10. 
 
 Lusisti satis, edisti satis atque bibisti ; 
 Tempus abire tibi. . . , — Hor., z Ep. ii. 214.. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 8. 
 
 I thought to have given over my prosecution of the dead 
 for this season, having by me many other projects for 
 the reformation of mankind ; but I have received so many 
 complaints from such different hands, that I shall disoblige 
 multitudes of my correspondents, if I do not take notice 
 of them. Some of the deceased, who I thought had been 
 laid quietly in their graves, are such hobgoblins in public 
 assemblies, that I must be forced to deal with them as 
 Evander did with his triple-lived adversary, who, according 
 
 ' Altered from Shakespeare's "cock." 
 
 ^ " The parcel of letters, value 10/. ^d., with the subsequent letter, 
 is received, for which Mr. Bickerstaff gives his thanks and humble 
 service " (folio). 
 
 ' Nichols suggests that Addison was at least partly responsible for 
 this paper. 
 
 21 
 
T^hc Tcttlcr No. 1 1 8. January I o, 1709-10 
 
 to Virgil, was forced to kill him thrice over before he 
 could despatch him. 
 
 " Ter leto sternendus erat."^ 
 
 I am likewise Informed, that several wives of my dead 
 men have, since the decease of their husbands, been seen 
 in many public places without mourning, or regard to 
 common decency. 
 
 I am further advised, that several of the defunct, con- 
 trary to the Woollen Act,'' presume to dress themselves 
 in lace, embroidery, silks, muslins, and other ornaments 
 forbidden to persons in their condition. These and other 
 the like informations moving me thereunto, I must desire, 
 for distinction-sake, and to conclude this subject for ever, 
 that when any of these posthumous persons appear, or are 
 spoken of, their wives maybe called "widows"; their houses, 
 "sepulchres" ; their chariots, "hearses" ; and their gar- 
 ments, " flannel " : on which condition, they shall be allowed, 
 all the conveniences that dead men can in reason desire. 
 
 As I was writing this morning on this subject, I received 
 the following letter : 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, From the Banks of Styx. 
 
 " T must confess I treated you very scurrilously when you 
 
 -I- first sent me hither ; but you have despatched such 
 
 multitudes after me to keep me in countenance, that I am 
 
 very well reconciled both to you and my condition. We 
 
 1 " Mn6.i," viii. 566. 
 
 ^ The Act " for burying in wool " (30 Charles 11. cap. 3) was in- 
 tended to protect homespun goods. Sometimes a fine was paid for 
 allowing a person of position to be " buried in linen, contrary to the 
 Act of Parliament." The widow in Steele's " Funeral " (act v. so. 2) 
 says : " Take care I ain't buried in flannel ; 'twould never become 
 me, I'm sure." See, too. Pope's " Moral Essays," i. 246 : 
 " ' Odious ! in woollen ! 'twould a saint provoke,' 
 Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke." 
 
 22 
 
No. 1 1 8. January 10,1709-10 T'ke 'Tatlcr 
 
 live very lovingly together ; for as death makes us all 
 equal, it makes us very much delight in one another's 
 company. Our time passes away much after the same 
 manner as it did when we were among you : eating, drink- 
 ing, and sleeping, are our chief diversions. Our quid- 
 nuncs between whiles go to a coiFee-house, where they 
 have several warm liquors made of the waters of Lethe, 
 with very good poppy tea. We that are the sprightly 
 geniuses of the place, refresh ourselves frequently with a 
 bottle of mum," and tell stories till we fall asleep. You 
 would do well to send among us Mr. Dodwell's"'' book 
 against the immortality of the soul, which would be of 
 great consolation to our whole fraternity, who would be 
 very glad to find that they are dead for good and all, and 
 would in particular make me rest for ever, 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 "John Partridge. 
 
 " P.S. — Sir James ' is just arrived here in good health." 
 
 The foregoing letter was the more pleasing to me, 
 because I perceive some little symptoms in it of a resusci- 
 tation ; and having lately seen the predictions of this 
 author, which are written in a true Protestant spirit of 
 prophecy, and a particular zeal against the French king, 
 I have some thoughts of sending for him from the Banks 
 
 ^ Ale brewed with wheat. John Philips ("Cyder," ii, 231) speaks 
 of " bowls of fattening mum." 
 
 ^ Henry Dodwell, the nonjuror, died in 171 1, in his seventieth 
 year. He tried to prove that immortality was conferred on the soul 
 only at baptism, by the gift of God, through the hands of the 
 ordained clergy. The title of the book alluded to is "An Epistolary 
 Discourse concerning the Soul's Immortality." 
 
 ^ Sir James Baker, See No. 1 1 5. 
 
 23 
 
T'he 'fatler No. nS. January 10,1709-10 
 
 of Styx, and reinstating him in his own house, at the sign 
 of the Globe in Salisbury Street. For the encouragement 
 of him and others, I shall offer to their consideration a 
 letter which gives me an account of the revival of one of 
 their brethren : 
 
 "Sir, December 31. 
 
 " T have perused your Tatler of this day,' and have 
 
 -■■ wept over it with great pleasure : I wish you 
 would be more frequent in your family pieces. For as I 
 consider you under the notion of a great designer, I think 
 these are not your least valuable performances. I am glad 
 to find you have given over your face painting for some 
 time, because, I think, you have employed yourself more 
 in grotesque figures, than in beauties ; for which reason, I 
 would rather see you work upon history pieces, than on 
 single portraits. Your several draughts of dead men 
 appear to me as pictures of still life, and have done great 
 good in the place where I live. The squire of .a neigh- 
 bouring village, who had been a long time in the number 
 of nonentities, is entirely recovered by them. For these 
 several years past, there was not a hare in the county that 
 could be at rest for him ; and I think, the greatest exploit 
 he ever boasted of, was, that when he was high sheriff of 
 the county, he hunted a fox so far, that he could not 
 follow him any farther by the laws of the land. All the 
 hours he spent at home, were in swilling = himself with 
 October, and rehearsing the wonders he did in the field. 
 Upon reading your papers, he has sold his dogs, shook off 
 his dead companions, looked into his estate, got the multi- 
 plication table by heart, paid his tithes, and intends to 
 take upon him the office of churchwarden next year. I 
 wish thesame success with your other patients, and am,&c.'* 
 
 ^ No. 114. ^ The original editions read "swelling." 
 
 24. 
 
No. 1 1 8. January 10, 1709-10 T^kc 'Tutlcr 
 
 Ditto, "January 9. 
 
 When I came home this evening, a very tight middle- 
 aged woman presented to me the following petition : 
 
 " To the Worshipful Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., Censor of 
 Great Britain. 
 
 " The humble petition of Penelope Prim, widow ; 
 
 " Sheweth, 
 
 *' ' I ""hat your petitioner was bred a clear-starcher and 
 -^ sempstress, and for many years worked to the 
 Exchange ; and to several aldermen's wives, lawyers' clerks, 
 and merchants' apprentices. 
 
 " That through the scarcity caused by regraters of 
 bread-corn (of which starch is made) and the gentry's 
 immoderate frequenting the operas, the ladies, to save 
 charges, have their heads washed at home, and the beaus 
 put out their linen to common laundresses, so that your 
 petitioner hath little or no work at her trade : for want of 
 which she is reduced to such necessity, that she and her 
 seven fatherless children must inevitably perish, unless 
 relieved by your worship. 
 
 " That your petitioner is informed, that in contempt of 
 your judgment pronounced on Tuesday the third instant 
 against the new-fashioned petticoat, or old-fashioned 
 farthingale,^ the ladies design to go on in that dress. And 
 since it is presumed your worship will not suppress them 
 by force, your petitioner humbly desires you would order, 
 that ruff's may be added to the dress ; and that she may 
 be heard by her counsel, who has assured your petitioner, 
 he has such cogent reasons to offer to your court, that 
 ruffs and farthingales are inseparable ; and that he questions 
 
 '■ See No. 116. 
 
 25 
 
The Tatler No. uS. January 10,1709-10 
 
 not but two-thirds of the greatest beauties about town 
 will have cambric collars on their necks before the end of 
 Easter Term next. He further says, that the design of our 
 great^randmothers in this petticoat, was to appear much 
 bigger than the life ; for which reason, they had false 
 shoulder-blades, like wings, and the ruff above mentioned, 
 to make their upper and lower parts of their bodies appear 
 proportionable ; whereas the figure of a woman in the 
 present dress, bears (as he calls it) the figure of a cone, 
 which (as he advises) is the same with that of an extin- 
 guisher, with a little knob at the upper end, and widening 
 downward, till it ends in a basis of a most enormous 
 circumference. 
 
 " Your petitioner therefore most humbly prays, that 
 you would restore the ruflF to the farthingale, which in their 
 nature ought to be as inseparable as the two Hungarian 
 twins.' 
 
 " And your Petitioner shall ever pray." 
 
 I have examined into the allegations of this petition, 
 
 ' Helen and Judith, two united twin-sisters, were born at Tzoni, in 
 Hungary, October 26, 1701 ; lived to the age of twenty-one, and 
 died in a convent at Petersburg, February 23, 1723. The mother, it 
 is said, survived their birth, bore another child afterwards, and was 
 alive when her singular twins were shown here, at a house in the 
 Strand, near Charing Cross, in 1 708. The writers of a periodical 
 publication at that time seem to have examined them carefully, with 
 a view to enable themselves to answer the many questions of their 
 correspondents concerning them. See " The British Apollo," vol. i. 
 Nos. 35, 36, 37, &c. (1708), and the Royal Society's "Phil. 
 Transact." vol. 1. part I, for the year 1757, art. 39. Nothing 
 more can be well said of the Hungarian twins here, but that they 
 were well shaped, had beautiful faces, and loved each other tenderly ; 
 they could read, write, and sing very prettily ; they spoke the Hun- 
 garian, High and Low Dutch, and French languages, and learnt 
 English when they were in this country (Nichols). 
 
 26 
 
No. 119. January 12, 1709-10 T'hc T'atUr 
 
 and find, by several ancient pictures of my own pre- 
 decessors, particularly that of Dame Deborah BickerstafF, 
 my great-grandmother, that the ruff and farthingale are 
 made use of as absolutely necessary to preserve the 
 symmetry of the figure ; and Mrs. Pyramid BickerstafF, 
 her second sister, is recorded in our family-book, with 
 some observations to her disadvantage, as the first female 
 of our house that discovered, to any besides her nurse and 
 her husband, an inch below her chin or above her instep. 
 This convinces me of the reasonableness of Mrs. Prim's 
 demand ; and therefore I shall not allow the reviving of 
 any one part of that ancient mode, except the whole is 
 complied with. Mrs. Prim is therefore hereby empowered 
 to carry home ruffs to such as she shall see in the above- 
 mentioned petticoats, and require payment on demand. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstaff has under consideration the offer from 
 the Corporation of Colchester of four hundred pounds 
 per annum, to be paid quarterly, provided that all his 
 dead persons shall be obliged to wear the baize of that 
 place. 
 
 No. 119. [Addison. 
 
 From 'Tuesday^ Jan. 10, to Thursday^ Jan. 12, 1709-10. 
 
 In tenui labor. — Vine, Georg. iv. 6. 
 
 Sheer Lane, January 1 1 . 
 
 I have lately applied myself with much satisfaction to the 
 curious discoveries that have been made by the help of 
 microscopes, as they are related by authors of our own and 
 other nations. There is a great deal of pleasure in prying 
 into this world of wonders, which Nature has laid out of 
 
 *7 
 
ihC iCltlCT' No. 119. January 12, 1709-10 
 
 sight, and seems industrious to conceal from us. Philo- 
 sophy had ranged over all the visible creation, and began 
 to want objects for her inquiries, when the present age, by 
 the invention of glasses, opened a new and inexhaustible 
 magazine of rarities, more wonderful and amazing than 
 any of those which astonished our forefathers. I was 
 yesterday amusing myself with speculations of this kind, 
 and reflecting upon myriads of animals that swim in those 
 little seas of juices that are contained in the several vessels 
 of a human body. While my mind was thus filled with 
 that secret wonder and delight, I could not but look upon 
 myself as in an act of devotion, and am very well pleased 
 with the thought of the great heathen anatomist,' who calls 
 his description of the parts of a human body, " A Hymn to 
 the Supreme Being." The reading of the day produced in 
 my imagination an agreeable morning's dream, if I may 
 call it such ; for I am still in doubt, whether it passed in 
 my sleeping or waking thoughts. However it was, I 
 fancied that my good genius stood at my bed's head, and 
 entertained me with the following discourse ; for upon my 
 rising, it dwelt so strongly upon me, that I wrote down 
 the substance of it, if not the very words. 
 
 " If," said he, " you can be so transported with those 
 productions of nature which are discovered to you by 
 those artificial eyes that are the works of human invention, 
 how great will your surprise be, when you shall have it in 
 your power to model your own eye as you please, and 
 adapt it to the bulk of objects, which, with all these helps, 
 are by infinite degrees too minute for your perception. 
 We who are unbodied spirits can sharpen our sight to 
 what degree we think fit, and make the least work of the 
 creation distinct and visible. This gives us such ideas 
 as cannot possibly enter into your present conceptions. 
 
 1 Galen, " De Usu Parrium." 
 28 
 
No. 119. January 12, 1709-10 Thc ToitlCT' 
 
 There is not the least particle of matter which may not 
 furnish one of us sufficient employment for a whole 
 eternity. We can still divide it, and still open it, and still 
 discover new wonders of Providence, as we look into the 
 different texture of its parts, and meet with beds of 
 vegetables, mineral and metallic mixtures, and several 
 kinds of animals that lie hid, and as it were lost in such 
 an endless fund of matter. I find you are surprised at this 
 discourse ; but as your reason tells you there are infinite 
 parts in the smallest portion of matter, it will likewise 
 convince you, that there is as great a variety of secrets, 
 and as much room for discoveries, in a particle no bigger 
 than the point of a pin, as in the globe of the whole 
 earth. Your microscopes bring to sight shoals of living 
 creatures in a spoonful of vinegar ; but we who can dis- 
 tinguish them in their different magnitudes, see among 
 them several huge leviathans, that terrify the little fry of 
 animals about them, and take their pastime as in an ocean, 
 or the great deep." I could not but smile at this part of 
 his relation, and told him, I doubted not but he could 
 give me the history of several invisible giants, accompanied 
 with their respective dwarfs, in case that any of these little 
 beings are of a human shape. "You may assure your- 
 self," said he, " that we see in these little animals different 
 natures, instincts and modes of life, which correspond to 
 what you observe in creatures of bigger dimensions. We 
 descry millions of species subsisted on a green leaf, which 
 your glasses represent only in crowds and swarms. What 
 appears to your eye but as hair or down rising on the 
 surface of it, we find to be woods and forests, inhabited by 
 beasts of prey, that are as dreadful in those their little 
 haunts, as lions and tigers in the deserts of Libya," I 
 was much delighted with his discourse, and could not for- 
 bear telling him, that I should be wonderfully pleased tc^ 
 
 29 
 
Jibe A at ley No. 119. January 12,1709-10 
 
 see a natural history of imperceptibles, containing a true 
 account of such vegetables and animals as grow and live 
 out of sight. " Such disquisitions," answered he, " are 
 very suitable to reasonable creatures ; and you may be 
 sure, there are many curious spirits amongst us who 
 employ themselves in such amusements. For as our 
 hands, and all our senses, may be formed to what degree 
 of strength and delicacy we please, in the same manner as 
 our sight, we can make what experiments we are inclined 
 to, how small soever the matter be in which we make 
 them. I have been present at the dissection of a mite, 
 and have seen the skeleton of a flea. I have been shown 
 a forest of numberless trees, which has been picked out of 
 an acorn. Your microscope can show you in it a com- 
 plete oak in miniature ; and could you suit all your organs 
 as we do, you might pluck an acorn from this little oak, 
 which contains another tree ; and so proceed from tree to 
 tree, as long as you would think fit to continue your dis- 
 quisitions. It is almost impossible," added he, "to talk 
 of things so remote from common life, and the ordinary 
 notions which mankind receive from blunt and gross 
 organs of sense, without appearing extravagant and 
 ridiculous. You have often seen a dog opened, to observe 
 the circulation of the blood, or make any other useful 
 inquiry ; and yet would be tempted to laugh if I should 
 tell you, that a circle of much greater philosophers than 
 any of the Royal Society, were present at the cutting up of 
 one of those little animals which we find in the blue of a 
 plum : that it was tied down alive before them ; and that 
 they observed the palpitations of the heart, the course of 
 the blood, the working of the muscles, and the convulsions 
 in the several limbs, with great accuracy and improvement." 
 *' I must confess," said I, " for my own part, I go along with 
 you in all your discoveries with great pleasure ; but it is 
 
 30 
 
No. 119. January 12, 1709-10 ihc Tatler 
 
 certain, they are too fine for the gross of mankind, who 
 are more struck with the description of everything that is 
 great and bulky. Accordingly we find the best judge of 
 human nature setting forth his wisdom, not in the forma- 
 tion of these minute animals (though indeed no less 
 wonderful than the other) but in that of the leviathan and 
 behemoth, the horse and the crocodile." ' " Your observa- 
 tion," said he, "is very just ; and I must acknowledge for 
 my own part, that although it is with much delight that I 
 see the traces of Providence in these instances, I still take 
 greater pleasure in considering the works of the creation 
 in their immensity, than in their minuteness. For this 
 reason, I rejoice when I strengthen my sight so as to make 
 it pierce into the most remote spaces, and take a view of 
 those heavenly bodies which lie out of the reach of human 
 eyes, though assisted by telescopes. What you look upon 
 as one confused white in the Milky Way, appears to me a 
 long tract of heavens, distinguished by stars that are 
 ranged in proper figures and constellations. While you 
 are admiring the sky in a starry night, I am entertained 
 with a variety of worlds and suns placed one above 
 another, and rising up to such an immense distance, that 
 no created eye can see an end of them." 
 
 The latter part of his discourse flung me into such an 
 astonishment, that he had been silent for some time before 
 I took notice of it ; when on a sudden I started up and 
 drew my curtains, to look if any one was near me, but 
 saw nobody, and cannot tell to this moment whether it 
 was my good genius or a dream that left me. 
 
 ' See Job, chaps. 39-41. 
 
 31 
 
1 he Adtlcr No. 1 20. January 14, 1709-ia 
 
 No. 120. [Addison. 
 
 From Thursday, Jan. 12, to Saturday, Jan. 14, 1709-10. 
 Velut silvis, ubi passim 
 
 Palantes error certo de tramite pellit ; 
 Ille sinistrorsum, hie dextrorsum abit, 
 
 HoR., 2 Sat. iii. 48. 
 
 Sheer Lane, January 13. 
 
 Instead of considering any particular passion or character 
 in any one set of men, my thoughts were last night 
 employed on the contemplation of human life in general ; 
 and truly it appears to me, that the whole species are 
 hurried on by the same desires, and engaged in the same 
 pursuits, according to the different stages and divisions 
 of life. Youth is devoted to lust, middle age to ambi- 
 tion, old age to avarice. These are the three general 
 motives and principles of action both in good and bad 
 men ; though it must be acknowledged, that they change 
 their names, and resign their natures, according to the 
 temper of the person whom they direct and animate. For 
 with the good, lust becomes virtuous love ; ambition, true 
 honour ; and avarice, the care of posterity. This scheme 
 of thought amused me very agreeably till I retired to rest, 
 and afterwards formed itself into a pleasing and regular 
 vision, which I shall describe in all its circumstances, as 
 the objects presented themselves, whether in a serious or 
 ridiculous manner. 
 
 I dreamed that I was in a wood, of so prodigious an 
 extent, and cut into such a variety of walks and alleys, 
 that all mankind were lost and bewildered in it. After 
 having wandered up and down some time, I came into the 
 centre of it, which opened into a wide plain, that was 
 
 32 
 
No. I20. January 14, 1709-10 'The Tdtler 
 
 filled with multitudes of both sexes. I here discovered 
 three great roads, very wide and long, that led into three 
 different parts of the forest. On a sudden, the whole 
 multitude broke into three parts, according to their 
 different ages, and marched in their respective bodies into 
 the three great roads that lay before them. As I had a 
 mind to know how each of these roads terminated, and 
 whither it would lead those who passed through them, I 
 joined myself with the assembly that were in the flower 
 and vigour of their age, and called themselves, " The Band 
 of Lovers." I found to my great surprise, that several old 
 men besides myself had intruded into this agreeable com- 
 pany ; as I had before observed, there were some young 
 men who had united themselves to the Band of Misers, 
 and were walking up the path of avarice ; though both 
 made a very ridiculous figure, and were as much laughed 
 at by those they joined, as by those they forsook. The 
 walk which we marched up, for thickness of shades, 
 embroidery of flowers, and melody of birds, with the 
 distant purling of streams, and falls of water, was so 
 wonderfully delightful, that it charmed our senses, and 
 intoxicated our minds with pleasure. We had not been 
 long here, before every man singled out some woman to 
 whom he offered his addresses and professed himself a 
 lover ; when on a sudden we perceived this delicious walk 
 to grow more narrow as we advanced in it, till it ended in 
 many intricate thickets, mazes and labyrinths, that were so 
 mixed with roses and brambles, brakes of thorns, and beds 
 of flowers, rocky paths and pleasing grottoes, that it was 
 hard to say, whether it gave greater delight or perplexity 
 to those who travelled in it. 
 
 It was here that the lovers began to be eager in their 
 pursuits. Some of their mistresses, who only seemed to 
 retire for the sake of form and decency, led them into 
 
 VOL. HI. 33 ^ 
 
ihC JLUtleV No. 1 20. January 14, 1709-10 
 
 plantations that were disposed into regular walks ; where, 
 after they had wheeled about in some turns and windings, 
 they suffered themselves to be overtaken, and gave their 
 hands to those who pursued them. Others withdrew from 
 their followers into little wildernesses, where there were so 
 many paths interwoven with each other in so much confu- 
 sion and irregularity, that several of the lovers quitted the 
 pursuit, or broke their hearts in the chase. It was some- 
 times very odd to see a man pursuing a fine woman that 
 was following another, whose eye was fixed upon a fourth, 
 that had her own game in view in some other quarter of 
 the wilderness. I could not but observe two things in 
 this place which I thought very particular, that several 
 persons who stood only at the end of the avenues, and 
 cast a careless eye upon the nymphs during their whole 
 flight, often caught them, when those who pressed them 
 the most warmly through all their turns and doubles, were 
 wholly unsuccessful : and that some of my own age, who 
 were at first looked upon with aversion and contempt, by 
 being well acquainted with the wilderness, and by dodging 
 their women in the particular corners and alleys of it, caught 
 them in their arms, and took them from those they really 
 loved and admired. There was a particular grove, which 
 was called, " The Labyrinth of Coquettes " ; where many 
 were enticed to the chase, but few returned with purchase. 
 It was pleasant enough to see a celebrated beauty, by 
 smiling upon one, casting a glance upon another, beckon- 
 ing to a third, and adapting her charms and graces to the 
 several follies of those that admired her, drawing into the 
 labyrinth a whole pack of lovers, that lost themselves in 
 the maze, and never could find their way out of it. How- 
 ever, it was some satisfaction to me, to see many of the 
 fair ones who had thus deluded their followers, and left 
 them among the intricacies of the labyrinth, obliged when 
 
 34 
 
No. 1 2a January 14, 1709-10 T'he 'T'utler 
 
 they came out of it, to surrender to the first partner that 
 offered himself, I now had crossed over all the difficult 
 and perplexed passages that seemed to bound our walk, 
 when on the other side of them, I saw the same great road 
 running on a little way, till it was terminated by two 
 beautiful temples. I stood here for some time, and saw 
 most of the multitude who had been dispersed amongst 
 the thickets, coming out two by two, and marching up in 
 pairs towards the temples that stood before us. The 
 structure on the right hand was (as I afterwards found) 
 consecrated to virtuous love, and could not be entered but 
 by such as received a ring, or some other token, from a 
 person who was placed as a guard at the gate of it. He 
 wore a garland of roses and myrtles on his head, and on 
 his shoulders a robe like an imperial mantle, white and 
 unspotted all over, excepting only, that where it was 
 clasped at his breast, there were two golden turtle-doves 
 that buttoned it by their bills, which were wrought in 
 rubies. He was called by the name of Hymen, and was 
 seated near the entrance of the temple, in a delicious bower, 
 made up of several trees, that were embraced by wood- 
 bines, jessamines, and amaranths, which were as so many 
 emblems of marriage, and ornaments to the trunks that 
 supported them. As I was single and unaccompanied, I 
 was not permitted to enter the temple, and for that reason 
 am a stranger to all the mysteries that were performed in 
 it. I had however the curiosity to observe how the several 
 couples that entered were disposed of; which was after 
 the following manner. There were two great gates on the 
 back side of the edifice, at which the whole crowd was let 
 out. At one of these gates were two women, extremely 
 beautiful, though in a different kind, the one having a 
 very careful and composed air, the other' a sort of smile 
 and ineffable sweetness in her countenance. The name of 
 
 3S 
 
'The Tatler No. 120. January 14, 1709-1G 
 
 the first was Discretion, and of the other Complacency. 
 All who came out of this gate, and put themselves under 
 the direction of these two sisters, were immediately con- 
 ducted by them into gardens, groves, and meadows, which 
 abounded in delights, and were furnished with everything 
 that could make them the proper seats of happiness. The 
 second gate of this temple let out all the couples that were 
 unhappily married, who came out linked together by 
 chains, which each of them strove to break, but could not. 
 Several of these were such as had never been acquainted 
 with each other before they met in the great walk, or had 
 been too well acquainted in the thicket. The entrance to 
 this gate was possessed by three sisters, who joined them- 
 selves with these wretches, and occasioned most of their 
 miseries. The youngest of the sisters was known by the 
 name of Levity, who with the innocence of a virgin, had 
 the dress and behaviour of a harlot. The name of the 
 second was Contention, who bore on her right arm a mufF 
 made of the skin of a porcupine ; and on her left carried 
 a little lap-dog, that barked and snapped at every one that 
 passed by her. 
 
 The eldest of the sisters, who seemed to have a haughty 
 and imperious air, was always accompanied with a tawny 
 Cupid, who generally marched before her with a little 
 mace on his shoulder, the end of which was fashioned into 
 the horns of a stag. Her garments were yellow, and her 
 complexion pale. Her eyes were piercing, but had odd 
 casts in them, and that particvdar distemper, which makes 
 persons who are troubled with it, see objects double. 
 Upon inquiry, I was informed that her name was Jealousy. 
 
 Having finished my observations upon this temple, and 
 its votaries, I repaired to that which stood on the left 
 hand,and was called, "The Temple of Lust." The front of 
 it was raised on Corinthian pillars, with all the meretricious 
 
 36 
 
No. I20. January 14, I709~^° Thc iCltlC^ 
 
 ornaments that accompany that order ; whereas that of 
 the other was composed of the chaste and matronlike 
 Ionic. The sides of it were adorned with several grotesque 
 figures of goats, sparrows, heathen gods, satyrs, and 
 monsters made up of half-man half-beast. The gates 
 were unguarded, and open to all that had a mind to enter. 
 Upon my going in, I found the windows were blinded, 
 and let in only a kind of twilight, that served to discover 
 a prodigious number of dark corners and apartments, into 
 which the whole temple was divided. I was here stunned 
 with a mixed noise of clamour and jollity : on one side of 
 me, I heard singing and dancing ; on the other, brawls 
 and clashing of swords. In short, I was so little pleased 
 with the place, that I was going out of it ; but found 
 I could not return by the gate where I entered, which was 
 barred against all that were come in, with bolts of iron, 
 and locks of adamant. There was no going back from 
 this temple through the paths of pleasure which led to it: 
 all who passed through the ceremonies of the place, went 
 out at an iron wicket, which was kept by a dreadful giant 
 called Remorse, that held a scourge of scorpions in his 
 hand, and drove them into the only outlet from that 
 temple. This was a passage so rugged, so uneven, and 
 choked with so many thorns and briars, that it was a 
 .melancholy spectacle to behold the pains and difficulties 
 which both sexes suffered who walked through it. The 
 men, though in the prime of their youth, appeared weak 
 and enfeebled with old age : the women wrung their hands, 
 and tore their hair ; and several lost their limbs before 
 they could extricate themselves out of the perplexities of 
 the path in which they were engaged. The remaining 
 part of this vision, and the adventures I met with in the 
 two great roads of ambition and avarice, must be the 
 subject of another paper. 
 
 37 
 
ihe Tutlcr No. 120. January 14,1709-10 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 I have this morning received the following letter from 
 the famous Mr; Thomas Doggett : ' 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " /^ti Monday next will be acted for my benefit, the 
 ^^ comedy of ' Love for Love ' : if you will do me 
 the honour to appear there, I will publish on the bills, 
 that it is to be performed at the request of Isaac Bicker- 
 stafF, Esq. ; and question not but it will bring me as great 
 an audience, as ever was at the house since the Morocco 
 ambassador was there.' I am, (with the greatest respect) 
 
 "Your most obedient and 
 " Most humble Servant, 
 
 " Thomas Doggett." 
 
 Being naturally an encourager of wit, as well as bound to 
 it in the quality of censor, I returned the following answer : 
 
 " Mr. Doggett, 
 
 " T am very well pleased with the choice you have made of 
 -■■ so excellent a play, and have always looked upon you 
 as the best of comedians ; I shall therefore come in 
 between the first and second act, and remain in the right- 
 hand box over the pit till the end of the fourth, provided 
 you take care that everything be rightly prepared for my 
 reception." ' 
 
 1 See No. i. 
 
 " The Morocco ambassador made his public entry into London in 
 April 1706. Don Venturo Zary, another Morocco minister, visited 
 the Haymarket Theatre on May 4., 17 10, with his "attendants in 
 their several habits, &c., having never as yet appeared in public." 
 There was no play at Drury Lane Theatre that night {Postboy, 
 April 29 to May 2, 1710). ' See No. 122. 
 
 38 
 
No. 121. January 17, 1709-10 ±06 Tcitler 
 
 No. 121. [Addison. 
 
 From Saturday, Jan. 14, to 'Tuesday, Jan. 17, 1709-10. 
 
 ■ Similis tibi, Cynthia, vel tibi, cujus 
 
 Turbavit nitidos exdnctus passer ocellos. 
 
 Juv., Sat. vi. 7. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 16. 
 
 I was recollecting the remainder of my vision, when my 
 maid came to me, and told me, there was a gentle- 
 woman below who seemed to be in great trouble, and 
 pressed very much to see me. When it lay in my power 
 to remove the distress of an unhappy person, I thought I 
 should very ill employ my time in attending matters of 
 speculation, and therefore desired the lady would walk in. 
 When she entered, I saw her eyes full of tears. However, 
 her grief was not so great as to make her omit rules ; for 
 she was very long and exact in her civilities, which gave 
 me time to view and consider her. Her clothes were 
 very rich, but tarnished ; and her words very fine, but ill 
 applied. These distinctions made me without hesitation 
 (though I had never seen her before) ask her, if her lady 
 had any commands for me? She then began to weep 
 afresh, and with many broken sighs told me, that their 
 family was in very great affliction. I beseeched her to 
 compose herself, for that I might possibly be capable of 
 assisting them. She then cast her eye upon my little dog, 
 and was again transported with too much passion to pro- 
 ceed ; but with much ado, she at last gave me to under- 
 stand, that Cupid, her lady's lap-dog, was dangerously ill, 
 and in so bad a condition, that her lady neither saw com- 
 pany, nor went abroad, for which reason she did not come 
 
 39 
 
The Adtlef No. 121. January 17, 1709-10 
 
 herself to consult me ; that as I had mentioned with great 
 affection my own dog (here she curtsied, and looking first 
 at the cur, and then on me, said, indeed I had reason, for 
 he was very pretty) her lady sent to me rather than to any 
 other doctor, and hoped I would not laugh at her sorrow, 
 but send her my advice. I must confess, I had some 
 indignation to find myself treated like something below a 
 farrier ; yet well knowing, that the best, as well as most 
 tender way of dealing with a woman, is to fall in with her 
 humours, and by that means to let her see the absurdity 
 of them, I proceeded accordingly : " Pray, madam," 
 said I, " can you give me any methodical account of this 
 illness, and how Cupid was first taken } " " Sir," said 
 she, " we have a little ignorant country girl who is kept to 
 tend him : she was recommended to our family by one, 
 that my lady never saw but once, at a visit ; and you 
 know, persons of quality are always inclined to strangers ; 
 for I could have helped her to a cousin of my own, 
 
 but " "Good madam," said I, "you neglect the 
 
 account of the sick body, while you are complaining of 
 this girl." " No, no, sir," said she, " begging your 
 pardon : but it is the general fault of physicians, they are 
 so in haste, that they never hear out the case. I say, this 
 silly girl, after washing Cupid, let him stand half an hour 
 in the window without his collar, where he caught cold, 
 and in an hour after began to bark very hoarse. He had 
 however a pretty good night, and we hoped the danger 
 was over ; but for these two nights last past, neither he 
 nor my lady have slept a wink." "Has he," said I, 
 " taken anything .? " " No," said she, " but my lady says, 
 he shall take anything that you prescribe, provided you 
 do not make use of Jesuits' powder," or the cold bath. 
 Poor Cupid," continued she, " has always been phthisical, 
 
 " Peruvian Bark, then comparatively little used. 
 40 
 
No. 121. January 17, 1709-10 'The Tcitlcr 
 
 and as he lies under something like a chin-cough, we are 
 afraid it will end in a consumption." I then asked her, if 
 she had brought any of his water to show me. Upon 
 this, she stared me in the face, and said, " I am afraid, 
 Mr. BickerstafF, you are not serious ; but if you have 
 any receipt that is proper on this occasion, pray let us 
 have it ; for my mistress is not to be comforted." Upon 
 this, I paused a little without returning any answer, and 
 after some short silence, I proceeded in the following 
 manner : "I have considered the nature of the distemper, 
 and the constitution of the patient, and by the best 
 observation that I can make on both, I think it is safest 
 to put him into a course of kitchen physic. In the mean- 
 time, to remove his hoarseness, it will be the most natural 
 way to make Cupid his own druggist ; for which reason, I 
 shall prescribe to him, three mornings successively, as 
 much powder as will lie on a groat, of that noble 
 remedy which the apothecaries call 'Album Grascum.' " 
 Upon hearing this advice, the young woman smiled, as if 
 she knew how ridiculous an errand she had been employed 
 in ; and indeed I found by the sequel of her discourse, 
 that she was an arch baggage, and of a character that is 
 frequent enough in persons of her employment, who are 
 so used to conform themselves in everything to the 
 humours and passions of their mistresses, that they sacrifice 
 superiority of sense to superiority of condition, and are 
 insensibly betrayed into the passions and prejudices of 
 those whom they serve, without giving themselves leave to 
 consider, that they are extravagant and ridiculous. How- 
 ever I thought it very natural, when her eyes were thus 
 open, to see her give a new turn to her discourse, and from 
 sympathising with her mistress in her follies, to fall a-rail- 
 ing at her. " You cannot imagine," said she, " Mr. 
 Bickerstaff, what a life she makes us lead for the sake of 
 
 41 
 
The Tatler No. 121. January 17, 1709-10 
 
 this little ugly cur : if he dies, we are the most unhappy 
 family in town. She chanced to lose a parrot last year, 
 which, to tell you truly, brought me into her service ; for 
 she turned off her woman upon it, who had lived with her 
 ten years, because she neglected to give him water, though 
 every one of the family says, she was as innocent of the 
 bird's death as the babe that is unborn. Nay, she told 
 me this very morning, that if Cupid should die, she would 
 send the poor innocent wench I was telling you of, to 
 Bridewell, and have the milkwoman tried for her life at 
 the Old Bailey, for putting water into his milk. In short, 
 she talks like any distracted creature." 
 
 " Since it is so, young woman," said I, " I will by no 
 means let you offend her, by staying on this message 
 longer than is absolutely necessary," and so forced her 
 out. 
 
 While I am studying to cure those evils and distresses 
 that are necessary or natural to human life, I find my task 
 growing upon me, since by these accidental cares, and 
 acquired calamities, if I may so call them, my patients 
 contract distempers to which their constitution is of itself a 
 stranger. But this is an evil I have for many years re- 
 marked in the fair sex ; and as they are by nature very 
 much formed for affection and dalliance, I have observed, 
 that when by too obstinate a cruelty, or any other means, 
 they have disappointed themselves of the proper objects of 
 love, as husbands, or children, such virgins have exactly at 
 such a year grown fond of lap-dogs, parrots, or other 
 animals. I know at this time a celebrated toast, whom I 
 allow to be one of the most agreeable of her sex, that in 
 the presence of her admirers, will give a torrent of kisses 
 to her cat, any one of which a Christian would be glad of. 
 I do not at the same time deny, but there are as great 
 enormities of this kind committed by our sex as theirs. 
 
 +2 
 
No. 121. January 17,1709-10 'The Tatlef 
 
 A Roman emperor had so very great an esteem for a 
 horse of his, that he had thoughts of making him a consul ; 
 and several moderns of that rank of men whom we call 
 country squires, won't scruple to kiss their hounds before 
 all the world, and declare in the presence of their wives, 
 that they had rather salute a favourite of the pack, than 
 the finest woman in England. These voluntary friend- 
 ships between animals of different species, seem to arise 
 from instinct ; for which reason, I have always looked 
 upon the mutual goodwill between the squire and the 
 hound, to be of the same nature with that between the lion 
 and the jackal. 
 
 The only extravagance of this kind which appears to 
 me excusable, is one that grew out of an excess of gratitude, 
 which I have somewhere met with in the life of a Turkish 
 emperor. His horse had brought him safe out of a field 
 of battle, and from the pursuit of a victorious enemy. 
 As a reward for such his good and faithful service, his 
 master built him a stable of marble, shod him with gold, 
 fed him in an ivory manger, and made him a rack of 
 silver. He annexed to the stable several fields and 
 meadows, lakes, and running streams. At the same time 
 he provided for him a seraglio of mares, the most beautiful 
 that could be found in the whole Ottoman Empire. To 
 these were added a suitable train of domestics, consisting 
 of grooms, farriers, rubbers, &c., accommodated with 
 proper liveries and pensions. In short, nothing was 
 omitted that could contribute to the ease and happiness of 
 his life who had preserved the emperor's. 
 
 By reason of the extreme cold, and the changeableness 
 of the weather, I have been prevailed upon to allow the 
 free use of the farthingale, till the 20th of February next 
 ensuing. 
 
 15 
 
xhC iCltlCT No. 122. January 19, 1709-10 
 
 No. 122. [Addison. 
 
 From "Tuesday, Jan. 17, to Thursday, Jan. 19, 1709-10. 
 
 Cur in theatrum, Cato severe, venisti ? 
 
 Mart., Epig. i. Prol. 21. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 18. 
 
 T find it is thought necessary, that I (who have taken 
 -^ upon me to censure the irregularities of the age) shoiild 
 give an account of my own actions when they appear 
 doubtful, or subject to misconstruction. My appearing at 
 the play on Monday last,' is looked upon as a step in my 
 conduct, which I ought to explain, that others may not be 
 misled by my example. It is true in matter of fact, I was 
 present at the ingenious entertainment of that day, and 
 placed myself in a box which was prepared for me with 
 great civility and distinction. It is said of Virgil, when 
 he entered a Roman theatre, where there were many 
 thousands of spectators present, that the whole assembly 
 rose up to do him honour ; a respect which was never 
 before paid to any but the emperor. I must confess, that 
 universal clap, and other testimonies of applause, with 
 which I was received at my first appearance in the theatre 
 of Great Britain, gave me as sensible a delight, as the 
 above-mentioned reception could give to that immortal 
 poet. I should be ungrateful at the same time, if I did 
 not take this opportunity of acknowledging the great 
 civilities that were shown me by Mr. Thomas Doggett, 
 who made his compliments to me between the acts, after a 
 
 ' See No. 120. "A person dressed for Isaac Bickerstaff did appear 
 at the playhouse on this occasion " (Addison's " Works," Birmingham, 
 ii. 246). 
 
 44 
 
No. 122. January 19, 1709-10 'The TcitlCi^ 
 
 most ingenuous and discreet manner ; and at the same 
 time communicated to me, that the Company of Upholders 
 desired to receive me at their door at the end of the 
 Haymarket, and to light me home to my lodgings. That 
 part of the ceremony I forbad, and took particular care 
 during the whole play to observe the conduct of the 
 drama, and give no ofFence by my own behaviour. Here 
 I think it will not be foreign to my character, to lay down 
 the proper duties of an audience, and what is incumbent 
 upon each individual spectator in public diversions of this 
 nature. Every one should on these occasions show his 
 attention, understanding and virtue. I would undertake 
 to find out all the persons of sense and breeding by the 
 effect of a single sentence, and to distinguish a gentleman 
 as much by his laugh, as his bow. When we see the 
 footman and his lord diverted by the same jest, it very 
 much turns to the diminution of the one, or the honour of 
 the other. But though a man's quality may appear in his 
 understanding and taste, the regard to virtue ought to be 
 the same in all ranks and conditions of men, however they 
 make a profession of it under the name of honour, reli- 
 gion, or morality. When therefore we see anything divert 
 an audience, either in tragedy or comedy, that strikes at 
 the duties of civil life, or exposes what the best men in all 
 ages have looked upon as sacred and inviolable, it is the 
 certain sign of a profligate race of men, who are fallen 
 from the virtue of their forefathers, and will be con- 
 temptible in the eyes of their posterity. For this reason 
 I took great delight in seeing the generous and disinterested 
 passion of the lovers in this comedy (which stood so many 
 trials, and was proved by such a variety of diverting 
 incidents) received with an universal approbation. This 
 brings to my mind a passage in Cicero,' which I could 
 1 " De Amicitia," vii. 
 4S 
 
7he Tcitlcy No. 122. January 19,1709-10 
 
 never read without being in love with the virtue of a 
 Roman audience. He there describes the shouts and 
 applause which the people gave to the persons who acted 
 the parts of Pylades and Orestes, in the noblest occasion 
 that a poet could invent to show friendship in perfection. 
 One of them had forfeited his life by an action which he 
 had committed ; and as they stood in judgment before the 
 tyrant, each of them strove who should be the criminal, 
 that he might save the life of his friend. Amidst the 
 vehemence of each asserting himself to be the offender, 
 the Roman audience gave a thunder of applause, and by 
 that means, as the author hints, approved in others what 
 they would have done themselves on the like occasion. 
 Methinks, a people of so much virtue were deservedly 
 placed at the head of mankind : But alas ! pleasures of 
 this nature are not frequently to be met with on the 
 English stage. 
 
 The Athenians, at a time when they were the most 
 polite, as well as the most powerful, government in the 
 world, made the care of the stage one of the chief parts of 
 the administration : and I must confess, I am astonished 
 at the spirit of virtue which appeared In that people upon 
 some expressions in a scene of a famous tragedy ; an 
 account of which we have in one of Seneca's epistles.' A 
 covetous person is represented speaking the common senti- 
 ments of all who are possessed with that vice in the following 
 soliloquy, which I have translated literally : 
 
 Let me be called a base man, so I am called a rich one. 
 If a man is rich, who asks if he is good .'' The question 
 is. How much we have ; not from whence, or by what 
 means, we have it. Every one has so much merit as he 
 Jias wealth. For my own part, let me be rich, O ye gods ! 
 
 ' L. A, Senecae Opera, Lips., 1741, ii. 520. 
 46 
 
No. 122. January 19, 1709-10 JL hC A Ut ICf 
 
 or let me die. The man dies happily, who dies increasing 
 his treasure. There is more pleasure in the possession of 
 wealth, than in that of parents, children, wife, or friends." 
 
 The audience were very much provoked by the first 
 words of this speech ; but when the actor came to the 
 close of it, they could bear no longer. In short, the whole 
 assembly rose up at once in the greatest fury, with a design 
 to pluck him off the stage, and brand the work itself with 
 infamy. In the midst of the tumult, the author came out 
 from behind the scenes, begging the audience to be com- 
 posed for a little while, and they should see the tragical 
 end which this wretch should come to immediately. The 
 promise of punishment appeased the people, who sat with 
 great attention and pleasure to see an example made of so 
 odious a criminal. It is with shame and concern that I 
 speak it ; but I very much question, whether it is possible 
 to make a speech so impious, as to raise such a laudable 
 horror and indignation in a modern audience. It is very 
 natural for an author to make ostentation of his reading, 
 as it is for an old man to tell stories ; for which reason I 
 must beg the reader will excuse me, if I for once indulge 
 myself in both these inclinations. We see the attention, 
 judgment, and virtue of a whole audience, in the foregoing 
 instances. If we would imitate the behaviour of a single 
 spectator, let us reflect upon that of Socrates, in a particular 
 which gives me as great an idea of that extraordinary man, 
 as any circumstance of his life ; or what is more, of his death. 
 This venerable person often frequented the theatre, which 
 brought a great many thither, out of a desire to see him ; 
 on which occasions it is recorded of him, that he sometimes 
 stood to make himself the more conspicuous, and to satisfy 
 the curiosity of the beholders. He was one day present at 
 the first representation of a tragedy of Euripides, who was 
 
 47 
 
The T at lev No. 122. January 19, 1709-10 
 
 his intimate friend, and whom he is said to have assisted in 
 several of his plays. In the midst of the tragedy, which 
 had met with very great success, there chanced to be a 
 line that seemed to encourage vice and immorality. 
 
 This was no sooner spoken, but Socrates rose from his 
 seat, and without any regard to his aiFection for his friend, 
 or to the success of the play, showed himself displeased at 
 what was said, and walked out of the assembly. I question 
 not but the reader will be curious to know what the line 
 was that gave this divine heathen so much offence. If 
 my memory fails me not, it was in the part of Hippolitus, 
 who when he is pressed by an oath, which he had taken to 
 keep silence, returned for answer, that he had taken the 
 oath with his tongue, but not with his heart. Had a 
 person of a vicious character made such a speech, it might 
 have been allowed as a proper representation of the base- 
 ness of his thoughts : but such an expression out of the 
 mouth of the virtuous Hippolitus, was giving a sanction 
 to falsehood, and establishing perjury by a maxim. 
 
 Having got over all interruptions, I have set apart to- 
 morrow for the closing of my vision.' 
 
 ' See Nos. 120, 123. 
 
 48 
 
No. 123. January 21, 1709-10 ±h€ Adtlcr 
 
 No. 123. [Addison. 
 
 From Thursday, Jan. 19, to Saturday, Jan. 21, 1709-10. 
 
 Audire, atque togam jubeo componere, quisquis 
 Ambitione mala, aut argenti pallet amore. 
 
 HoR., 2 Sat. iii. 77. 
 
 From my own Afartment, January 20. 
 
 A Continuation of the Vision} 
 
 With much labour and difficulty I passed through the 
 first part of my vision, and recovered the centre of 
 the wood, from whence I had the prospect of the three 
 great roads. I here joined myself to the middle-aged 
 party of mankind, who marched behind the standard of 
 Ambition. The great road lay in a direct line, and was 
 terminated by the Temple of Virtue. It was planted on 
 each side with laurels, which were intermixed with marble 
 trophies, carved pillars, and statues of lawgivers, heroes, 
 statesmen, philosophers, and poets. The persons who 
 travelled up this great path, were such whose thoughts 
 were bent upon doing eminent services to mankind, or 
 promoting the good of their country. On each side of 
 this great road were several paths, that were also laid out 
 in straight lines, and ran parallel with it. These were 
 most of them covered walks, and received into them men 
 of retired virtue, who proposed to themselves the same 
 end of their journey, though they chose to make it in 
 shade and obscurity. The edifices at the extremity of the 
 walk were so contrived, that we could not see the Temple 
 of Honour by reason of the Temple of Virtue, which 
 stood before it. At the gates of this temple we were 
 
 ' See No. izo. 
 VOL. III. 49 ° 
 
'The Tatler No. 123. January 21, 1709-10 
 
 met by the goddess of it, who conducted us into that of 
 Honour, which was joined to the other edifice by a beautiful 
 triumphal arch, and had no other entrance into it. When the 
 deity of the inner structure had received us, she presented 
 us in a body to a figure that was placed over the high altar, 
 and was the emblem of eternity. She sat on a globe in the 
 midst of a golden zodiac, holding the figure of a sun in 
 one hand, and a moon in the other. Her head was veiled, 
 and her feet covered. Our hearts glowed within us as we 
 stood amidst the sphere of light which this image cast on 
 every side of it. 
 
 Having seen all that happened to this band of adven- 
 turers, I repaired to another pile of buildings that stood 
 within view of the Temple of Honour, and was raised in 
 imitation of it, upon the very same model ; but at my 
 approach to it, I found that the stones were laid together 
 without mortar, and that the whole fabric stood upon so 
 weak a foundation, that it shook with every wind that 
 blew. This was called the Temple of Vanity. The 
 goddess of it sat in the midst of a great many tapers, that 
 burned day and night, and made her appear much better 
 than she would have done in open daylight. Her whole 
 art was to show herself more beautiful and majestic than 
 she really was. For which reason, she had painted her 
 face, and wore a cluster of false jewels upon her breast : 
 but what I more particularly observed, was, the breadth of 
 her petticoat, which was made altogether in the fashion of 
 a modern farthingale. This place was filled with hypocrites, 
 pedants, freethinkers, and prating politicians ; with a rabble 
 of those who have only titles to make them great men. 
 Female votaries crowded the temple, choked up the 
 avenues of it, and were more in number than the sand 
 upon the seashore. I made it my business in my return 
 towards that part of the wood from whence I first set out, 
 
 5° 
 
No. 123. January 21, 1709-10 The iCltler 
 
 to observe the walks which led to this temple ; for I met 
 In it several who had begun their journey with the band of 
 virtuous persons, and travelled some time in their com- 
 pany : but upon examination I found, that there were 
 several paths which led out of the great road into the sides 
 of the wood, and ran into so many crooked turns and 
 windings, that those who travelled through them often 
 turned their backs upon the Temple of Virtue, then 
 crossed the straight road, and sometimes marched in it for 
 a little space, till the crooked path which they were engaged 
 in again led them into the wood. The several alleys of 
 these wanderers had their particular ornaments : one of 
 them I could not but take notice of, in the walk of the 
 mischievous pretenders to politics, which had at every 
 turn the figure of a person, whom by the inscription I 
 found to be Machiavel, pointing out the way with an 
 extended finger like a Mercury. 
 
 I was now returned in the same manner as before, with 
 a design to observe carefully everything that passed in the 
 region of Avarice, and the occurrences in that assembly, 
 which was made up of persons of my own age. This 
 body of travellers had not gone far in the third great road, 
 before it led them ihsensibly into a deep valley, in which 
 they journeyed several days with great toil and uneasiness, 
 and without the necessary refreshments of food and sleep. 
 The only relief they met with, was in a river that ran 
 through the bottom of the valley on a bed of golden sand : 
 they often drank of this stream, which had such a particular 
 quality in it, that though it refreshed them for a time, it 
 rather inflamed than quenched their thirst. On each side 
 of the river was a range of hills full of precious ore ; for 
 where the rains had washed off the earth, one might see 
 in several parts of them long veins of gold, and rocks that 
 looked like pure silver. We were told that the deity of 
 
 51 
 
A he Adtlcr No. 123. January 21, 1709-10 
 
 the place had forbade any of his votaries to dig into the 
 bowels of these hills, or convert the treasures they contained 
 to any use, under pain of starving. At the end of the 
 valley stood the Temple of Avarice, made after the manner 
 of a fortification, and surrounded with a thousand triple- 
 headed dogs, that were placed there to keep off beggars. 
 At our approach they aU fell a-barking, and would have 
 very much terrified us, had not an old woman who had 
 called herself by the forged name of Competency offered 
 herself for our guide. She carried under her garment a 
 golden bow, which she no sooner held up in her hand, but 
 the dogs lay down, and the gates flew open for our recep- 
 tion. We were led through a hundred iron doors, before 
 we entered the temple. At the upper end of it sat the 
 god of Avarice, with a long filthy beard, and a meagre 
 starved countenance, enclosed with heaps of ingots and 
 pyramids of money, but half naked and shivering with 
 cold. On his right hand was a fiend called Rapine, and 
 on his left a particular favourite to whom he had given the 
 title of Parsimony. The first was his collector, and the 
 other his cashier. 
 
 There were several long tables placed on each side of 
 the temple, with respective officers attending behind them. 
 Some of these I inquired into. At the first table was 
 kept the office of Corruption. Seeing a solicitor extremely 
 busy, and whispering everybody that passed by, I kept my 
 eye upon him very attentively, and saw him often going 
 up to a person that had a pen in his hand, with a multipli- 
 cation table and an almanac before him, which as I after- 
 wards heard, was all the learning he was master of. The 
 solicitor would often apply himself to his ear, and at the 
 same time convey money into his hand, for which the 
 other would give him out a piece of paper or parchment, 
 signed and sealed in form. The name of this dexterous 
 
 52 
 
No. 123. January 21, 1709-10 The TutlciT 
 
 and successful solicitor was Bribery. At the next table 
 was the office of Extortion. Behind it sat a person in a 
 bob-wig, counting over a great sum of money. He gave 
 out little purses to several, who after a short tour brought 
 him, in return, sacks full of the same kind of coin. I 
 saw at the same time a person called Fraud, who sat 
 behind a counter with false scales, light weights, and 
 scanty measures ; by the skilful application of which 
 instruments, she had got together an immense heap of 
 wealth. It would be endless to name the several officers, 
 or describe the votaries that attended in this temple. 
 There were many old men panting and breathless, repos- 
 ing their heads on bags of money ; nay many of them 
 actually dying, whose very pangs and convulsions, which 
 rendered their purses useless to them, only made them 
 grasp them the faster. There were some tearing with 
 one hand all things, even to the garments and flesh 
 of many miserable persons who stood before them, and 
 with the other hand, throwing away what they had 
 seized, to harlots, flatterers, and panders, that stood 
 behind them. 
 
 On a sudden the whole assembly fell a-trembling, and 
 upon inquiry, I found, that the great room we were in 
 was haunted with a spectre, that many times a day ap- 
 peared to them, and terrified them to distraction. 
 
 In the midst of their terror and amazement the appari- 
 tion entered, which I immediately knew to be Poverty. 
 Whether it were by my acquaintance with this phantom, 
 which had rendered the sight of her more familiar to me, 
 or however it was, she did not make so indigent or fright- 
 ful a figure in my eye, as the god of this loathsome 
 temple. The miserable votaries of this place, were, I 
 found, of another mind. Every one fancied himself 
 threatened by the apparition as she stalked about the 
 
 53 
 
'T'he Tatler No. 123. January 21, 1709-10 
 
 room, and began to lock their coffers, and tie their bags, 
 with the utmost fear and trembling. 
 
 I must confess, I look upon the passion which I saw in 
 this unhappy people to be of the same nature with those 
 unaccountable antipathies which some persons are born 
 with, or rather as a kind of frenzy, not unlike that which 
 throws a man Into terrors and agonies at the sight of 
 so useful and innocent a thing as water. The whole 
 assembly was surprised, when, instead of paying my 
 devotions to the deity whom they all adored, they saw 
 me address myself to the phantom. 
 
 " O Poverty ! " said I, " my first petition to thee is, 
 that thou wouldst never appear to me hereafter ; but if 
 thou wilt not grant me this, that thou wouldst not bear a 
 form more terrible than that in which thou appearest to 
 me at present. Let not thy threats and menaces betray 
 me to anything that is ungrateful or unjust. Let me not 
 shut my ears to the cries of the needy. Let me not for- 
 get the person that has deserved well of me. Let me not, 
 for any fear of thee, desert my friend, my principles, or 
 my honour. If Wealth is to visit me, and to come with 
 her usual attendants. Vanity and Avarice, do thou, O 
 Poverty ! hasten to my rescue ; but bring along with thee 
 the two sisters, in whose company thou art always cheer- 
 ful. Liberty and Innocence." 
 
 The conclusion of this vision must be deferred to 
 another opportunity. 
 
 54 
 
No. 124- January 24, 1709-10 The JL(ltl€f 
 
 No. 124, [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, Jan. 21, to 'Tuesday, Jan. 24, 1709-10. 
 
 Ex humili summa ad fastigia rerum 
 
 Extollit, quoties voluit Fortuna jocari. 
 
 Jirv., Sat. iii. 39. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 23. 
 
 I went on Saturday last to make a visit in the city ; and 
 as I passed through Cheapside, I saw crowds of 
 people turning down towards the Bank, and struggling 
 who should first get their money into the new-erected 
 lottery.' It gave me a great notion of the credit of our 
 
 ' The first State lottery of 1710 ; see No. 87. Various passages in 
 the "Wentworth Papers" (pages 126, 127, 129, 130, 148, 165) 
 throw light upon this subject. Thus, "I hear the Million Lottery is 
 drawing and thear is a prise of 400/. a year drawn, and Col. St. Pear 
 has gott 5 {sic) a year ; it will be hard fate if you mis a pryse that put 
 so much in. I long tel its all drawn ; they say it will be six weeks 
 drawing" (Aug. i, 1710). "It will be a long time first if ever, 
 except I win ye thoussand p* a year, for mony now adays is the 
 raening passion " (July (?) 1710). " Some very ordenary creeture has 
 gott 400/. a year" (Aug. 4, 17 10). "Thear is a lady gave her 
 footman in the last before this, mony for a lot, and he got five 
 hundred a year, and she would have half, and they had a law suit, 
 but the lawyers gave it all to him" (Aug. 7, 1710). "Betty has 
 lost all her hopse of the Lottery, als drawn now" (Oct. 6, 1710). 
 " You know your grandfather's Butler (?), they say he put ten thousand 
 pd in the lottry and lost it all, and is really worth forty thousand 
 pd " (Dec. 15, 1710). Swift refers to the drawing in Sep- 
 tember : " To-day Mr. Addison, Colonel Freind and I went to 
 see the million lottery drawn at Guildhall. The jackanapes of blue- 
 coat boys gave themselves such airs in pulling out the tickets, and 
 shewed white hands open to the company to let us see there was no 
 cheat" ("Journal to Stella," Sept. 15, 1710). See also Nos. 170, 203, 
 and the Spectator, No. 191. 
 
 55 
 
± h6 Adtlcr No. 124. January 24, 1709-10 
 
 present government and administration, to find people 
 press as eagerly to pay money, as they would to receive 
 it ; and at the same time a due respect for that body of 
 men who have found out so pleasing an expedient for 
 carrying on the common cause, that they have turned a 
 tax into a diversion. The cheerfulness of spirit, and the 
 hopes of success, which this project has occasioned in this 
 great city, lightens the burden of the war, and puts me 
 in mind of some games which they say were invented by 
 wise men who were lovers of their country, to make their 
 fellow citizens undergo the tediousness and fatigues of a 
 long siege. I think there is a kind of homage due to 
 fortune (if I may call it so), and that I should be wanting 
 to myself if I did not lay in my pretences to her favour, 
 and pay my compliments to her by recommending a 
 ticket to her disposal. For this reason, upon my return 
 to my lodgings, I sold off a couple of globes and a 
 telescope,' which, with the cash I had by me, raised the 
 sum that was requisite for that purpose. I find by my 
 calculations, that it is but a hundred and fifty thousand 
 to one against my being worth a thousand pounds per 
 annum for thirty-two years;' and if any plum' in the 
 City will lay me a hundred and fifty thousand pounds to 
 twenty shillings (which is an even bet), that I am not this 
 fortunate man, I will take the wager, and shall look upon 
 
 1 See No. \^%. 
 
 ' " There were 150,000 tickets at j^io each, making ;^ 1,5 00,000, 
 the principal of which was to be sunk, and 9 per cent, to be allowed on 
 it for thirty-two years. Three thousand seven hundred and fifty tickets 
 were prizes from j^iooo to ^^5 per annum ; the rest were blanks — a 
 proportion of thirty-nine to one prize, but, as a consolation, each 
 blank was entitled to fourteen shillings per annum during the thirty- 
 two years " (Ashton's " Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne," 
 i. 114). 
 
 ' The possessor of a fortune of ^100,000. 
 
 56 
 
No, 124- January 24, 1709-10 The lUtler 
 
 him as a man of singular courage and fair-dealing, having 
 given orders to Mr. Morphew to subscribe such a policy 
 in my behalf, if any person accepts of the offer. I must 
 confess, I have had such private intimations from the 
 twinkling of a certain star in some of my astronomical 
 observations, that I should be unwilling to take fifty 
 pounds a year for my chance, unless it were to oblige a 
 particular friend. My chief business at present is, to 
 prepare my mind for this change of fortune : for as 
 Seneca, who was a great moralist, and a much richer man 
 than I shall be with this addition to my present income, says, 
 " Munera ista Fortuna putatis ? Insidia sunt."^ " What 
 we look upon as gifts and presents of Fortune, are traps 
 and snares which she lays for the unwary." I am arming 
 myself against her favours with all my philosophy ; and 
 that I may not lose myself in such a redundance of 
 unnecessary and superfluous wealth, I have determined to 
 settle an annual pension out of it upon a family of 
 Palatines, and by that means give these unhappy 
 strangers a taste of British property. At the same time, 
 as I have an excellent servant-maid, whose diligence in 
 attending me has increased in proportion to my infirmities, 
 I shall settle upon her the revenue arising out of the ten 
 pounds, and amounting to fourteen shillings per annum, 
 with which she may retire into Wales, where she was 
 born a gentlewoman, and pass the remaining part of her 
 days in a condition suitable to her birth and quality. It 
 was impossible for me to make an inspection into my 
 own fortune on this occasion, without seeing at the same 
 time the fate of others who are embarked in the same 
 adventure. And indeed it was a great pleasure to me to 
 observe, that the war, which generally impoverishes those 
 
 1 L. A. Senecas Opera, Epist. viii. sect. 3 (Lips., Tauchn., 1832, 
 iii. 14). 
 
 57 
 
jThC AdtlCf No. 124. January 24, 1709-10 
 
 who furnish out the expense of it, will by this means 
 give estates to some, without making others the poorer for 
 it. I have lately seen several in liveries, who will give as 
 good of their own very suddenly ; and took a particular 
 satisfaction in the sight of a young country wench, whom 
 I this morning passed by as she was whirling her mop,' 
 with her petticoats tucked up very agreeably, who, if 
 there is any truth in my art, is within ten' months of 
 being the handsomest great fortune in town. I must con- 
 fess, I was so struck with the foresight of what she is to 
 be, that I treated her accordingly, and said to her, " Pray, 
 young lady, permit me to pass by." I would for this 
 reason advise all masters and mistresses to carry it with 
 great moderation and condescension towards their servants 
 till next Michaelmas, lest the superiority at that time 
 should be inverted. I must likewise admonish all my 
 brethren and fellow adventurers, to fill their minds with 
 proper arguments for their support and consolation in 
 case of ill-success. It so happens in this particular, that 
 though the gainers will have reason to rejoice, the losers 
 will have no reason to complain. I remember, the day after 
 the thousand pound prize was drawn in the penny lottery,* 
 I went to visit a splenetic acquaintance of mine, who 
 was under much dejection, and seemed to me to have 
 
 ' Cf. Swift's "City Shower," in No. Z38 : "She, singing, still 
 whirls on her mop." ^ Cf. No. 128. 
 
 ' This penny lottery seems to have been a private undertaking, 
 not warranted by Act of Parliament, or intended to raise any part of 
 the public revenue. In the year 1698, a "Penny Lottery" was 
 drawn at the theatre in Dorset Garden, as appears from the title of 
 the following pamphlet, apparently alluded to here : " The Wheel of 
 Fortune : or. Nothing for a Penny. Being remarks on the drawing of 
 the Penny Lottery at the Theatre Royal in Dorset Garden. With 
 the characters of some of the honourable trustees, and all due acknow- 
 ledgment to his Honour the Undertaker. Written by a person who 
 was cursed mad that he had not the Thousand Pounds Lot " (Nichols). 
 
 58 
 
No. 124. January 24, 1709-10 ±he 'TatleV 
 
 suffered some great disappointment. Upon inquiry, I 
 found he had put twopence for himself and his son into 
 the lottery and that neither of them had drawn the 
 thousand pound. Hereupon this unlucky person took 
 occasion to enumerate the misfortunes of his life, and 
 concluded with telling me, that he never was successful in 
 any of his undertakings. I was forced to comfort him 
 with the common reflection upon such occasions, that men 
 of the greatest merit are not always men of the greatest 
 success, and that persons of his character must not expect 
 to be as happy as fools. I shall proceed in the like 
 manner with my rivals and competitors for the thousand 
 pounds a year which we are now in pursuit of ; and that 
 I may give general content to the whole body of candi- 
 dates, I shall allow all that draw prizes to be fortunate, 
 and all that miss them to be wise. 
 
 I must not here omit to acknowledge, that I have 
 received several letters upon this subject, but find one 
 common error running through them all, which is, 
 that the writers of them believe their fate in these cases 
 depends upon the astrologer, and not upon the stars, as in 
 the following letter from one, who, I fear, flatters himself 
 with hopes of success, which are altogether groundless, 
 since he does not seem to me so great a fool as he takes 
 himself to be : 
 
 "Sir, 
 "/'^oming to town, and finding my friend Mr. Partridge 
 ^>-^ dead and buried, and you the only conjurer in 
 repute, I am under a necessity of applying myself to you 
 for a favour, which nevertheless I confess it would better 
 become a friend to ask, than one who is, as I am 
 altogether, a stranger to you ; but poverty, you know, is 
 impudent ; and as that gives me the occasion, so that 
 
 59 
 
jThC ±(ltler No. 124. January 24, 1709-10 
 
 alone could give me the confidence to be thus impor- 
 tunate. 
 
 " I am, sir, very poor, and very desirous to be other- 
 wise : I have got ten pounds, which I design to venture 
 in the lottery now on foot. What I desire of you is, that 
 by your art, you will choose such a ticket for me as shall 
 arise a benefit sufficient to maintain me. I must beg 
 leave to inform you, that I am good for nothing, and must 
 therefore insist upon a larger lot than would satisfy those 
 who are capable by their own abilities of adding something 
 to what you should assign them ; whereas I must expect an 
 absolute, independent maintenance, because, as I said, I 
 can do nothing. 'Tis possible, after this free confession 
 of mine, you may think I don't deserve to be rich ; but I 
 hope you'll likewise observe, I can ill afford to be poor. 
 My own opinion is, I am well qualified for an estate, and 
 have a good title to luck in a lottery ; but I resign my- 
 self wholly to your mercy, not without hopes that you will 
 consider, the less I deserve, the greater the generosity in 
 you. If you reject me, I have agreed with an acquaintance 
 of mine to bury me for my ten pounds. I once more 
 recommend myself to your favour, and bid you adieu." 
 
 I cannot forbear publishing another letter which I have 
 received, because it redounds to my own credit, as well as 
 to that of a very honest footman : 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, January 23, lyfg-. 
 
 " T am bound in justice to acquaint you, that I put an 
 
 ■■■ advertisement ^ into your last paper about a watch 
 
 which was lost, and was brought to me on the very day 
 
 ^ The following was the advertisement : " A plain gold watch, 
 made by Tompion, with a gold hook and chain, a cornelian seal set in 
 gold, and a cupid sifting hearts, was dropt from a lady's side in or 
 
 60 
 
No. 125- January 26, 1709-10 I'he Trailer 
 
 your paper came out by a footman, who told me, that he 
 would [not] have brought it, if he had not read your dis- 
 course of that day against avarice ;' but that since he had 
 read it, he scorned to take a reward for doing what in 
 justice he ought to do. I am, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble Servant, 
 
 "John Hammond." 
 
 No. 125. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, Jan. 24, to Thursday, Jan. 26, 1709-10. 
 
 Quem mala stultitia, et quaecunque inscitia veri 
 Caecum agit, insanum Chrysippi porticus, et grex 
 Autumat. Haec populos, haec magnos formula reges, 
 Excepto sapiente, tenet. — Hor., 2 Sat. iii. 43. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 25. 
 
 There is a sect of ancient philosophers, who, I think, 
 have left more volumes behind them, and those 
 better written, than any other of the fraternities in philo- 
 sophy. It was a maxim of this sect, that all those who do 
 not live up to the principles of reason and virtue, are 
 madmen. Every one, who governs himself by these rules, 
 is allowed the title of wise, and reputed to be in his senses ; 
 and every one in proportion, as he deviates from them, is 
 pronounced frantic and distracted. Cicero having chosen 
 
 near Great Marlborough Street on Thursday night last. Whoever 
 took it up, if they will bring it to Mr. Plaistow's, at the Hand and 
 Star between the two Temple Gates, in Fleet Street, shall receive 
 five guineas reward. — Signed John Hammond." 
 ^ See No. 123. 
 
 6i 
 
T^he Tatler No. 125. January 26, 1709-10 
 
 this maxim for his theme, takes occasion to argue from it 
 very agreeably with Clodius, his implacable adversary, who 
 had procured his banishment. " A city," says he, " is an 
 assembly distinguished into bodies of men, who are in 
 possession of their respective rights and privileges, cast 
 under proper subordinations, and in all its parts obedient 
 to the rules of law and equity." He then represents the 
 government from whence he was banished, at a time when 
 the consul, senate, and laws, had lost their authority, as a 
 commonwealth of lunatics. For this reason, he regards 
 his expulsion from Rome, as a man would being turned 
 out of Bedlam, if the inhabitants of it should drive him 
 out of their walls as a person unfit for their community.' 
 We are therefore to look upon every man's brain to be 
 touched, however he may appear in the general conduct of 
 his life, if he has an unjustifiable singularity in any part of 
 his conversation or behaviour : or if he swerves from right 
 reason, however common his kind of madness may be, we 
 shall not excuse him for its being epidemical, it being our 
 present design to clap up all such as have the marks of 
 madness upon them, who are now permitted to go about 
 the streets, for no other reason, but because they do no 
 mischief in their fits. Abundance of imaginary great men 
 are put in straw to bring them to a right sense of them- 
 selves : and is it not altogether as reasonable, that an 
 insignificant man, who has an immoderate opinion of his 
 merits, and a quite different notion of his own abilities 
 from what the rest of the world entertain, should have the 
 same care taken of him, as a beggar who fancies himself a 
 duke or a prince ? Or, why should a man, who starves in 
 the midst of plenty, be trusted with himself, more than he 
 who fancies he is an emperor in the midst of poverty ? I 
 have several women of quality in my thoughts, who set so 
 
 ^ Cicero, Tusc. Disp. iii. 4, &c. ; Orat. pro Dom. 33, &c, 
 
 62 
 
No. 125- January 26, 1709-10 'T' h 6 leafier 
 
 exorbitant a value upon themselves, that I have often most 
 heartily pitied them, and wished them, for their recovery, 
 under the same discipline with the pewterer's wife. I find 
 by several hints in ancient authors, that when the Romans 
 were in the height of power and luxury, they assigned out 
 of their vast dominions, an island called Anticyra, as an 
 habitation for madmen. This was the Bedlam of the 
 Roman Empire, whither all persons who had left their 
 wits used to resort from all parts of the world in quest of 
 them. Several of the Roman emperors were advised to 
 repair to this island ; but most of them, instead of listen- 
 ing to such sober counsels, gave way to their distraction, 
 till the people knocked them in the head as despairing of 
 their cure. In short, it was as usual for men of distempered 
 brains to take a voyage to Anticyra ' in those days, as it 
 is in ours for persons who have a disorder in their lungs 
 to go to Montpellier, 
 
 The prodigious crops of hellebore'' with which this 
 whole island abounded, did not only furnish them with 
 incomparable tea, snufF, and Hungary water,' but impreg- 
 nated the air of the country with such sober and salutiferous 
 streams, as very much comforted the heads, and refreshed 
 the senses, of all that breathed in it. A discarded states- 
 man, that at his first landing appeared stark staring mad, 
 
 ^ Mr. Dobson quotes from Burton's "Anatomic of Melancholy" 
 (1628), p. 18 : "I will evince it, that most men are mad, that they 
 had as much need to go a pilgrimage to the AnticyrsE (as in Strabo's 
 time they did) as in our dayes they run to Compostella, our Lady of 
 Sichim, or Lauretta, to seeke for helpe ; that it is likely to be as 
 prosperous a voyage as that of Guiana, and there is much more need 
 of Hellebor than of Tobacco." 
 
 ^ Hellebore was much used by the ancients as a cure for madness 
 and melancholy. 
 
 ^ The best Hungary water (a popular scent) was made of spirits of 
 wine, rosemary in bloom, lavender flowers, and oil of rosemary. 
 
 63 
 
xhc ± at lev No. 125. January 26, 1709-10 
 
 would become calm in a week's time ; and upon his return 
 home, live easy and satisfied in his retirement. A moping 
 lover would grow a pleasant fellow by that time he had 
 ridden thrice about the island ; and a hair-brained rake, 
 after a short stay in the country, go home again a com- 
 posed, grave, worthy gentleman. 
 
 I have premised these particulars before I enter on the 
 main design of this paper, because I would not be thought 
 altogether notional' in what I have to say, and pass only 
 for a projector in morality. I could quote Horace, and 
 Seneca, and some other ancient writers of good repute, 
 upon the same occasion, and make out by their testimony, 
 that our streets are filled with distracted persons ; that our 
 shops and taverns, private and public houses, swarm with 
 them ; and that it is very hard to make up a tolerable 
 assembly without a majority of them. But what I have 
 already said, is, I hope, sufficient to justify the ensuing 
 project, which I shall therefore give some account of 
 without any further preface. 
 
 1. It is humbly proposed, that a proper receptacle or 
 habitation be forthwitJh erected for all such persons as, 
 upon due trial and examination, shall appear to be out of 
 their wits. 
 
 2. That to serve the present exigency, the College in 
 Moorfields' be very much extended at both ends ; and 
 that it be converted into a square, by adding three other 
 sides to it. 
 
 3. That nobody be admitted into these three additional 
 sides, but such whose frenzy can lay no claim to an 
 apartment in that row of building which is already 
 erected. 
 
 ^ Dealing in ideas instead of realities. ^ Bedlam ; see No, 30. 
 
 64 
 
No. 1 25 . January 26, 1 709-1 o T h 6 'Ta tier 
 
 4. That the architect, physician, apothecary, surgeon, 
 keepers, nurses, and porters, be all and each of them 
 cracked, provided that their frenzy does not lie in the 
 profession or employment to which they shall severally 
 and respectively be assigned. 
 
 NJB. It is thought fit to give the foregoing notice, that 
 none may present himself here for any post of honour or 
 profit who is not duly qualified. 
 
 5. That over all the gates of the additional buildings, 
 there be figures placed in the same manner as over the 
 entrance of the edifice already erected ; ' provided, they 
 represent such distractions only as are proper for those 
 additional buildings ; as, of an envious man gnawing his 
 own flesh, a gamester pulling himself by the ears, and 
 knocking his head against a marble pillar, a covetous man 
 warming himself over a heap of gold, a coward flying from 
 his own shadow, and the like. 
 
 Having laid down this general scheme of my design, I 
 do hereby invite all persons who are willing to encourage 
 so public-spirited a project, to bring in their contributions 
 as soon as possible, and to apprehend forthwith any 
 politician whom they shall catch raving in a cofi^ee-house, 
 or any freethinker whom they shall find publishing his 
 deliriums, or any other person who shall give the like 
 manifest signs of a crazed imagination : and I do at the 
 same time give this public notice to all the madmen about 
 this great city, that they may return to their senses with 
 all imaginable expedition, lest if they should come into 
 my hands, I should put them into a regimen which they 
 would not like ; for if I find any one of them persist in his 
 frantic behaviour, I will make him in a month's time as 
 famous as ever Oliver's porter ' was. 
 
 1 The statues by C. G. C'ibber. ' See No. 51. 
 
 VOL. HI. 65 E 
 
'The Tatler No. 126. January 28, 1709-10 
 
 No. 126. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Thursday, Jan. 26, to Saturday, Jan. 28, 1709-10 
 
 Anguillam cauda tenes. — T. D'Urfey. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 27. 
 
 There is no sort of company so agreeable as that of 
 women who have good sense without affectation, and 
 can converse with men without any private design of 
 imposing chdns and fetters. Belvidera, whom I visited 
 this evening, is one of these. There is an invincible pre- 
 judice in favour of all she says, from her being a beautiful 
 woman, because she does not consider herself as such when 
 she talks to you. This amiable temper gives a certain 
 tincture to all her discourse, and made it very agreeable to 
 me, till we were interrupted by Lydia, a creature who has 
 all the charms that can adorn a woman. Her attractions 
 would indeed be irresistible, but that she thinks them so, 
 and is always employing them in stratagems and conquests. 
 When I turned my eye upon her as she sat down, I saw 
 she was a person of that character, which, for the further 
 information of my country correspondents, I had long 
 wanted an opportunity of explaining. Lydia is a finished 
 coquette, which is a sect among women of all others the most 
 mischievous, and makes the greatest havoc and disorder in 
 society. I went on in the discourse I was in with Belvidera, 
 without showing that I had observed anything extra- 
 ordinary in Lydia : upon which, I immediately saw her 
 look me over as some very ill-bred fellow ; and casting a 
 scornful glance on my dress, gave a shrug at Belvidera. 
 But as much as she despised me, she wanted my admiration, 
 and made twenty offers to bring my eyes her way : but I 
 
 66 
 
No. 126. January 28, 1709-10 The Tat 16 T 
 
 reduced her to a restlessness in her seat, an impertinent 
 playing of her fan, and many other motions and gestures, 
 before I took the least notice of her. At last I looked at 
 Jier with a kind of surprise, as if she had before been 
 unobserved by reason of an ill light where she sat. It is 
 not to be expressed what a sudden joy I saw rise in her 
 countenance, even at the approbation of such a very old 
 fellow : but she did not long enjoy her triumph without a 
 rival ; for there immediately entered Castabella, a lady of 
 a quite contrary character, that is to say, as eminent a 
 prude as Lydia is a coquette. Belvidera gave me a glance, 
 which methought intimated, that they were both curiosities 
 in their kind, and worth remarking. As soon as we were 
 again seated, I stole looks at each lady, as if I was com- 
 paring their perfections. Belvidera observed it, and began 
 to lead me into a discourse of them both to their faces, 
 which is to be done easily enough ; fnr (^fne. woman is 
 gg neral ly so intent upon the faults„Qf.anather^ that, .she-has 
 not_reflection.jexiQugh to observe when lier own are-repre- 
 sented. " I have taken notice, Mr. BickerstafF," said Belvi- 
 dera, " that you have in some parts of your writings drawn 
 characters of our sex, in which you have not, to my appre- 
 hension, been clear enough and distinct, particularly in 
 those of a prude and a coquette." Upon the mention of this, 
 Lydia was roused with the expectation of seeing Casta- 
 bella's picture, and Castabella with the hopes of that of 
 Lydia. " Madam," said I to Belvidera, " when we consider 
 nature, we shall often find very contrary effects flow from 
 the same cause. The prude and coquette (as different as 
 they appear in their behaviour)' are in reality the same 
 kind-flf women : the motive of-action iiLboth is_tlie affec- 
 tation of pleasing men. They are sisters of the same 
 blood and constitution, only one chooses a grave, the other 
 a light, dress. The prude appears more virtuous, the 
 
 67 
 
The Tatler No. 126. January 28, 1709-10 
 
 coquette more vicious, than she really is. The distant 
 behaviour of the prude tends to the same purpose as the 
 advances of the coquette ; and you have as little reason to 
 fall Into despair from the severity of the one, as to conceive 
 hope from the familiarity of the latter. What leads you 
 into a clear sense of their character is, that you may 
 observe each of them has the distinction of sex in all her 
 thoughts, words and actions. You can never mention any 
 assembly you were lately in, but one asks you with a rigid, 
 the other with a sprightly air, ' Pray, what men were there ? ' 
 As for prudes, it must be confessed, that there are several 
 of them, who, like hypocrites, by long practice of a false 
 part, become sincere ; or at least delude themselves into a 
 belief that they are so." 
 
 For the benefit of this society of ladies, I shall propose 
 one rule to them as a test of their virtue. I find in a very 
 celebrated modern author, that the great foundress of the 
 Pietists, Madame de Bourignon,' who was no less famous for 
 the sanctity of her life than for the singularity of some of 
 her opinions, was used to boast, that she had not only the 
 spirit of continency in herself, but that she had also the 
 power of communicating it to all who beheld her. This 
 the scoffers of those days called the Gift of Infrigidation, 
 and took occasion from it to rally her face, rather than 
 
 ' Bayle, in his life of this devotee, 1697, says that Antoinette 
 Bourignon was born at Lisle in 1616, so deformed, that it was debated 
 for some days in the family, whether it was not proper to stifle her as 
 a monster. Her deformity diminishing, they laid aside the thought. 
 Although she was of a morose and peevish temper, and embroiled in 
 troubles most part of her life, she seemed to be but forty years of age 
 when she was above sixty ; never made use of spectacles, and died at 
 Franeker, in the province of Frise, in 1 680. From her childhood to her 
 old age she had an extraordinary turn of mind. She published a 
 multitude of books, filled with singular doctrines, such as might be' 
 expected from a person who roundly asserted, on the express declara- 
 tion, she said, of God Himself, " That the examination of things by 
 
 68 
 
No, 126. January 28, 1709-10 T'ke T^Uthr 
 
 admire her virtue. I would therefore advise the prude, 
 who has a mind to know the integrity of her own heart, to 
 lay her hand seriously upon it, and to examine herself, 
 whether she could sincerely rejoice in such a gift of con- 
 veying chaste thoughts to all her male beholders. If she 
 has any aversion to the power of inspiring so great a 
 virtue, whatever notion she may have of her perfection, 
 she deceives her own heart, and is still in the state of 
 prudery. Some perhaps will look upon the boast of 
 Madame de Bourignon as the utmost ostentation of a 
 prude. 
 
 If you would see the humour of a coquette pushed to the 
 last excess, you may find an instance of it in the following 
 story, which I will set down at length, because it pleased 
 me when I read it, though I cannot recollect in what 
 author. 
 
 A young coquette widow in France having been followed 
 by a Gascon of quality, who had boasted among his com- 
 panions of some favours which he had never received, to 
 be revenged of him, sent for him one evening, and told 
 him, it was in his power to do her a very particular service. 
 The Gascon, with much profession of his readiness to obey 
 her commands, begged to hear in what manner she de- 
 signed to employ him. " You know," said the widow, " my 
 friend Belinda, and must often have heard of the jealousy 
 
 reason, was the most accursed of all heresies, formal atheism, a 
 rejection of God, and the substitution of corrupt reason in his place." 
 She pretended to inspiration, and boasted of extraordinary communi- 
 cations with God ; but appears to have been exceedingly defective in 
 the essential duties of humility and charity. She was a woman of 
 such ill conditions and odd behaviour, that nobody could live with 
 her ; and she seriously maintained, that anger was a real virtue. She 
 contrived to accumulate money, but continued always uncharitable 
 upon principle, alleging the errors of her understanding in defence 
 of the inhumanity of her conduct. 
 
 69 
 
The Tatler No. 126. January 28, 1709-10 
 
 of that impotent wretch her husband. Now it is absolutely- 
 necessary, for the carrying on a certain aiFair, that his wife 
 and I should be together a whole night. What I have to 
 ask of you, is, to dress yourself in her night-clothes, and 
 lie by him a whole night in her place, that he may not 
 miss her while she is with me." The Gascon (though of a 
 very lively and undertaking complexion) began to startle 
 at the proposal, " Nay," says the widow, " if you have 
 not the courage to go through what I ask of you, I must 
 employ somebody else that will." " Madam," says the 
 Gascon, " I'll kill him for you if you please ; but for lying 
 with him ! — How is it possible to do it without being 
 discovered ? " " If you do not discover yourself," says the 
 widow, " you will lie safe enough, for he is past all curiosity. 
 He comes in at night while she is asleep, and goes out in 
 the morning before she awakes, and is in pain for nothing, 
 so he knows she is there." " Madam," replied the 
 Gascon, " how can you reward me for passing a night with 
 this old fellow ? " The widow answered with a laugh, 
 " Perhaps by admitting you to pass a night with one you 
 think more agreeable." He took the hint, put on his 
 night-clothes, and had not been a-bed above an hour before 
 he heard a knocking at the door, and the treading of one 
 who approached the other side of the bed, and who he did 
 not question was the good man of the house. I do not 
 know, whether the story would be better by telling you in 
 this place, or at the end of it, that the person who went to 
 bed to him was our young coquette widow. The Gascon 
 was in a terrible fright every time she moved in the bed, 
 or turned towards him, and did not fail to shrink from her 
 till he had conveyed himself to the very ridge of the bed. 
 I will not dwell upon the perplexity he was in the whole 
 night, which was augmented, when he observed that it was 
 now broad day, and that the husband did not yet offer to 
 
 70 
 
No. 126. January 28, 1709-10 ±06 TatleT" 
 
 get up and go about his business. All that the Gascon 
 had for it, was to keep his face turned from him, and to 
 feign himself asleep, when, to his utter confusion, the 
 widow at last puts out her arm, and pulls the bell at her 
 bed's head. In came her friend, and two or three com- 
 panions, to whom the Gascon had boasted of her favours. 
 The widow jumped into a wrapping-gown, and joined with 
 the rest in laughing at this man of intrigue.' 
 
 ' " Advertisement. — Proposals for printing the Lucubrations of Isaac 
 Bickerstaff, Esq., by subscriptions, are to be seen, and subscriptions 
 taken by Charles Lillie, a perfumer, at the corner of Beaufort 
 Buildings, in the Strand, and John Morphew, near Stationers Hall," 
 See No. 80, note. The same proposals are advertised at the end of 
 the subsequent papers in the original folio, with the following variation 
 and addition : Proposals for printing, &c. by subscriptions, " in two 
 volumes in octavo, on a large character and fine royal paper," &c. 
 In No. 134, &c., there was this addition : "All persons that desire to 
 subscribe to this work are desired to send their subscriptions before the 
 z5th instant, it being intended to print no more than what shall be 
 subscribed for, and to begin on the 27th in order to have it published 
 before Easter." In No. 139 (Feb. 25-28) was the announcement, 
 "this day put to press." The idea of publishing by Easter was 
 given up after No. 153. The books were not ready for the subscribers 
 until July 10 (see No. 195, Advertisement). The third and fourth 
 volumes of the Tatler were advertised as "ready to be delivered" in 
 No. 227 of the Spectator (Nov. 20, 171 1). The copies on royal 
 paper were issued at a guinea a volume, and copies on medium paper 
 at half a guinea. " I am one of your two-guinea subscribers," says 
 the writer of No. 5 of the Examiner (Aug. 31, 1710). 
 
 71 
 
ihc ± at lev No. 127. January 31, 1709-10 
 
 No. 127. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday^ Jan. 28, to Tuesday, Jan. 31, 1709-10. 
 
 Nimirum insanus paucis videatur, eo quod 
 Maxima pars hominum morbo jactatur eodem. 
 
 HoR., 2 Sat. iii. 120. 
 
 From my own Apartment, January 30. 
 
 There is no affection of the mind so much blended in 
 human nature, and wrought into our very con- 
 stitution, as pride. It appears under a multitude of 
 disguises, and breaks out in ten thousand different 
 symptoms. Every one feels it in himself, and yet wonders 
 to see it in his neighbour. I must confess, I met with an 
 instance of it the other day where I should very little have 
 expected it. Who would believe the proud person I am 
 going to speak of, is a cobbler upon Ludgate Hill } This 
 artist being naturally a lover of respect, and considering 
 that his circumstances are such that no man living will 
 give it him, has contrived the figure of a beau in wood, 
 who stands before him in a bending posture, with his hat 
 under his left arm, and his right hand extended in such a 
 manner as to hold a thread, a piece of wax, or an awl, 
 according to the particular service in which his master 
 thinks fit to employ him. When I saw him, he held a 
 candle in this obsequious posture. I was very well pleased 
 with the cobbler's invention, that had so ingeniously 
 contrived an inferior, and stood a little while contemplating 
 this inverted idolatry, wherein the image did homage to 
 the man. When we meet with such a fantastic vanity in 
 one of this order, it is no wonder if we may trace it 
 through all degrees above it, and particularly through all 
 
 7* 
 
No. 127. January 31, 1709-10 ±06 Tatlcy 
 
 the steps of greatness. We easily see the absurdity of 
 pride when it enters into the heart of a cobbler ; though in 
 reality it is altogether as ridiculous and unreasonable 
 wherever it takes possession of a human creature. There 
 is no temptation to it from the reflection upon our being 
 in general, or upon any comparative perfection, whereby 
 one man may excel another. The greater a man's know- 
 ledge is, the greater motive he may seem to have for pride ; 
 but in the same proportion as the one rises, the other 
 sinks, it being the chief office of wisdom to discover to us 
 our weaknesses and imperfections. 
 
 As folly is the foundation of pride, the natural super- 
 structure of it is madness. If there was an occasion for the 
 experiment, I would not question to make a proud man a 
 lunatic in three weeks' time, provided I had it in my power 
 to ripen his frenzy with proper applications. It is an 
 admirable reflection in Terence, where it is said of a 
 parasite, '■'^ Hie homines ex stultis facit insanos !"^ "This 
 fellow," says he, " has an art of converting fools into mad- 
 men." When I was in France (the region of complaisance 
 and vanity), I have often observed, that a great man who 
 has entered a levy of flatterers humble and temperate, has 
 grown so insensibly heated by the court which was paid 
 him on all sides, that he has been quite distracted before 
 he could get into his coach. 
 
 If we consult the collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find 
 most of them are beholden to their pride for their 
 introduction into that magnificent palace.^ I had some 
 years ago the curiosity to inquire into the particular 
 circumstances of these whimsical freeholders, and learned 
 from their own mouths the condition and character of each 
 of them. Indeed I found, that all I spoke to were persons 
 of quality. There were at that time five duchesses, three 
 1 " Eunuchus," II. ii. 23. See No. 208. " Bedlam. 
 
 73 
 
± he idtlCf No. 127. January 31, 1709-10 
 
 earls, two heathen gods, an emperor, and a prophet. 
 There were also a great number of such as were locked up 
 from their estates, and others who concealed their titles. A 
 leather-seller of Taunton whispered me in my ear, that 
 he was the Duke of Monmouth ; but begged me not to 
 betray him. At a little distance from him sat a tailor's 
 wife, who asked me as I went by, if I had seen the sword- 
 bearer } Upon which I presumed to ask her, who she 
 was ; and was answered, " My Lady Mayoress." 
 
 I was very sensibly touched with compassion towards 
 these miserable people ; and indeed, extremely mortified to 
 see human nature capable of being thus disfigured. How- 
 ever, I reaped this benefit from it, that I was resolved to 
 guard myself against a passion which makes such havoc in 
 the brain, and produces so much disorder in the imagination. 
 For this reason, I have endeavoured to keep down the 
 secret swellings of resentment, and stifle the very first 
 suggestions of self-esteem ; to establish my mind in 
 tranquillity, and over-value nothing in my own, or in 
 another's possession. 
 
 For the benefit of such whose heads are a little turned, 
 though not to so great a degree as to qualify them for the 
 place of which I have been now speaking, I shall assign one 
 of the sides of the college which I am erecting, for the 
 cure of this dangerous distemper. 
 
 The most remarkable of the persons whose disturbance 
 arises from pride, and whom I shall use all possible 
 diligence to cure, are such as are bidden in the appearance 
 of quite contrary habits and dispositions. Among such, I 
 shall in the first place take care of one who is under the 
 most subtle species of pride that I have observed in my 
 whole experience. 
 
 This patient is a person for whom I have a great respect, 
 as being an old courtier, and a friend of mine in my youth. 
 
 7+ 
 
No. 127. January 31, 1 709-^^° The TatleV 
 
 The man has but a bare subsistence, just enough to pay his 
 reckoning with us at the Trumpet :' but by having spent 
 the beginning of his hfe in the hearing of great men and 
 persons of power, he is always promising to do good 
 offices, to introduce every man he converses with into the 
 world ; will desire one of ten times his substance to let him 
 see him sometimes, and hints to him, that he does not 
 forget him. He answers to matters of no consequence 
 with great circumspection ; but however, maintains a 
 general civility in his words and actions, and an insolent 
 benevolence to all whom he has to do with ; this he 
 practises with a grave tone and air ; and though I am his 
 senior by twelve years, and richer by forty pounds per 
 annum, he had yesterday the impudence to commend me 
 to my face, and tell me, he should be always ready to 
 encourage me. In a-word, he is a very insignificant fellow, 
 but exceeding gracious. The best return I can make 
 him for his favours, is, to carry him myself to Bedlam, 
 and see him well taken care of.' 
 
 The next person I shall provide for, is of a quite contrary 
 character ; that has in him all the stiffness and insolence 
 of quality, without a grain of sense or good nature to 
 make it either respected or beloved. His pride has 
 infected every muscle of his face ; and yet, after all his 
 
 1 In Shire Lane. See No. 132. 
 
 2 " Perhaps the most consummately drawn of all his characters is 
 introduced in the Essay, No. 127. . . . We have a portrait of that kind 
 which, though produced by a few apparently careless touches, never 
 ceases to charm, and is a study for all succeeding time and painters " 
 (Forster's Essay on Steele). "This character," wrote Leigh Hunt, 
 "is one of the finest that ever proceeded from his pen. It shows his 
 contempt of that absurdest of all the passions of mortality — pride. 
 The reader will take notice of the exquisite expression 'insolent 
 benevolence,' and the 'very insignificant fellow, but exceeding 
 gracious '" ("A Book for a Corner," ii. 78-9). 
 
 75 
 
± be lUtlcy No. 127. January 31, 1709-10 
 
 endeavours to show mankind that he contemns them, he is 
 only neglected by all that see him, as not of consequence 
 enough to be hated. 
 
 For the cure of this particular sort of madness, it will be 
 necessary to break through all forms with him, and 
 familiarise' his carriage by the use of a good cudgel. It 
 may likewise be of great benefit to make him jump over 
 a stick half a dozen times every morning. 
 
 A third whom I have in my eye is a young fellow, 
 whose lunacy is such, that he boasts of nothing but what 
 he ought to be ashamed of. He is vain of being rotten, 
 and talks publicly of having committed crimes, which he 
 ought to be hanged for by the laws of his country. 
 
 There are several others whose brains are hurt with 
 pride, and whom I may hereafter attempt to recover ; but 
 shall conclude my present list with an old woman, who is 
 just dropping into her grave, that talks of nothing but her 
 birth. Though she has not a tooth in her head, she expects 
 to be valued for the blood in her veins, which she fancies 
 is much better than that which glows in the cheeks of 
 Belinda,' and sets half the town on fire. 
 
 ^ Bring down from its state of superiority. 
 
 - Nichols suggests an allusion to Mary Ann, daughter of Baron 
 Spanheim, the Bavarian ambassador. She married the Marquis de 
 Montandre in April 1710, and was a Kit-Cat toast. The reference — 
 if there is any personal reference at all — may equally well be to any 
 one of the beauties of the time. 
 
 1^ 
 
No. 128. February 2, 1709-10 ±he T^Cltlct" 
 
 No. 128. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, Jan, 31, to Thursday, Feb. 2, 1709-10. 
 
 Veniunt a dote sagittae. — ^Juv., Sat. vi. 139. 
 
 From my own Apartment, February i. 
 
 This morning I received a letter from a fortune-hunter, 
 which being better in its kind than men of that 
 character usually write, I have thought fit to communicate 
 to the public : 
 
 " To Isaac Bicker staff, Esq. 
 "Sir, 
 " T take the boldness to recommend to your care the 
 -■■ enclosed letter, not knowing how to communicate it 
 but by your means to the agreeable country maid you 
 mention with so much honour in your discourse concern- 
 ing the lottery.' 
 
 " I should be ashamed to give you this trouble without 
 offering at some small requital : I shall therefore direct a 
 new pair of globes and a telescope of the best maker, to be 
 left for you at Mr. Morphew's, as a testimony of the great 
 respect with which I am 
 
 " Your most humble Servant, &c." 
 
 " To Mopsa in Sheer Lane. 
 
 " Fairest Unknown, 
 
 " Tt being discovered by the stars, that about ten' months 
 
 J- hence, you will run the hazard of being persecuted 
 
 by many worthless pretenders to your person, unless 
 
 1 See No. 124. 
 
 ' Altered, in error, to "three," in the 1 71 1 edition. In No. 124. 
 " ten months" remains. The drawing was at Michaelmas 1710. 
 
 77 
 
'The Tatler No. 128. February 2, 1709-10 
 
 timely prevented, I now ofFer my service for your security 
 against the persecution that threatens you. This is there- 
 fore to let you know, that I have conceived a most extra- 
 ordinary passion for you ; and that for several days I have 
 been perpetually haunted with the vision of a person I have 
 never yet seen. To satisfy you that I am in my senses, 
 and that I do not mistake you for any one of higher rank, 
 I assure you, that in your daily employment, you appear 
 to my imagination more agreeable in a short scanty petti- 
 coat, than the finest woman of quality in her spreading 
 farthingale ; and that the dexterous twirl of your mop has 
 more aative charms than the studied airs of a lady's fan. 
 In a word, I am captivated with your menial qualifications : 
 the domestic virtues adorn you like attendant Cupids ; 
 cleanliness and healthful industry wait on all your motions ; 
 and dust and cobwebs fly your approach. 
 
 " Now, to give you an honest account of myself, and 
 that you may see my designs are honourable, I am an 
 esquire of an ancient family, born to about fifteen hundred 
 pounds a year, half of which I have spent in discovering 
 myself to be a fool, and with the rest am resolved to retire 
 with some plain honest partner, and study to be wiser. 
 I had my education in a laced coat, and a French dancing 
 school ; and by my travel into foreign parts, have just as 
 much breeding to spare, as you may think you want, 
 which I intend to exchange as fast as I can for old English 
 honesty and good sense. I will not impose on you by a 
 false recommendation of my person, which (to show you 
 my sincerity) is none of the handsomest, being of a figure 
 somewhat short ; but what I want in length, I make out 
 in breadth. But in amends for that and all other defects, 
 if you can like me when you see me, I shall continue to 
 jou, whether I find you fair, black or brown, 
 
 "The most Constant of Lovers. 
 " January 27, 17U." 
 
 78 
 
No. 128. February 2, 1709-10 T'he T^atlef 
 
 This letter seems to be written by a wag, and for that 
 reason I am not much concerned for what reception Mopsa 
 shall think fit to give it ; but the following certainly pro- 
 ceeds from a poor heart, that languishes under the most 
 deplorable misfortune that possibly can befall a woman. 
 A man that is treacherously dealt with in love may have 
 recourse to many consolations. He may gracefully break 
 through all opposition to his mistress, or explain with his 
 rival ; urge his own constancy, or aggravate the falsehood 
 by which it is repaid. But a woman that is ill-treated 
 has no refuge in her griefs but in silence and secrecy. 
 The world is so unjust, that a female heart which has been 
 once touched is thought for ever blemished. The very 
 grief in this case is looked upon as a reproach, and a com- 
 plaint almost a breach of chastity. For these reasons, we 
 see treachery and falsehood are become as it were male 
 vices, and are seldom found, never acknowledged, in the 
 other sex. This may serve to introduce Statira's letter, 
 which, without any turn or art, has something so pathetical 
 and moving in it, that I verily believe it to be true, and 
 therefore heartily pity the injured creature that wrote it : 
 
 " 'To Isaac Bicker staff, Esq. 
 
 "Sir, 
 " "^^ou seem in many of your writings to be a man of a 
 
 ^ very compassionate temper, and well acquainted 
 with the passion of love. This encourages me to apply 
 myself to you in my present distress, which I believe you 
 will look upon to be very great, and treat with tenderness, 
 notwithstanding it wholly arises from love, and that it is a 
 woman that makes this confession. I am now in the 
 twenty-third year of my age, and have for a great while 
 entertained the addresses of a man who I thought loved 
 me more than life. I am sure I did him ; and must own 
 to you, not without some confusion, that I have thought 
 
 79 
 
'The Tatler No. 128. February 2, 1709-10 
 
 on nothing else for these two long years, but the happy 
 life we should lead together, and the means I should use 
 to make myself still dearer to him. My fortune was 
 indeed much beyond his ; and as I was always in the 
 company of my relations, he was forced to discover his 
 inclinations, and declare himself to me by stories of other 
 persons, kind looks, and many ways which he knew too 
 well that I understood. Oh ! Mr. BickerstafF, it is 
 impossible to tell you, how industrious I have been to 
 make him appear lovely in my thoughts. I made it a 
 point of conscience to think well of him, and of no man 
 else : but he has since had an estate fallen to him, and 
 makes love to another of a greater fortune than mine. I 
 could not believe the report of this at first ; but about a 
 fortnight ago I was convinced of the truth of it by his own 
 behaviour. He came to give our family a formal visit, 
 when, as there were several in company, and many things 
 talked of, the discourse fell upon some unhappy woman 
 who was in my own circumstances. It was said by one in 
 the room, that they could not believe the story could be 
 true, because they did not believe any man could be so 
 false. Upon which, I stole a look upon him with an 
 anguish not to be expressed. He saw my eyes full of 
 tears ; yet had the cruelty to say, that he could see no 
 falsehood in alterations of this nature, where there had 
 been no contracts or vows interchanged. Pray, do not 
 make a jest of misery, but tell me seriously your opinion 
 of his behaviour ; and if you can have any pity for my 
 condition, publish this in your next paper, that being the 
 only way I have of complaining of his unkindness, and 
 showing him the injustice he has done me. I am 
 
 " Your humble Servant, 
 
 " The unfortunate 
 
 " Statira." 
 80 
 
No. 129. February 4, 1 7°9- 1 o The Tatler 
 
 The name my correspondent gives herself, puts me 
 in mind of my old reading in romances, and brings into 
 my thoughts a speech of the renowned Don Bellianis, who, 
 upon a complaint made him of a discourteous knight, that 
 had left his injured paramour in the same manner, dries up 
 her tears with a promise of relief. " Disconsolate damsel," 
 quoth he, " a foul disgrace it were to all right worthy 
 professors of chivalry, if such a blot to knighthood should 
 pass unchastised. Give me to know the abode of this 
 recreant lover, and I will give him as a feast to the fowls of 
 the air, or drag him bound before you at my horse's tail." 
 
 I am not ashamed to own myself a champion of dis- 
 tressed damsels, and would venture as far to relieve them 
 as Don Bellianis ; for which reason, I do invite this lady 
 to let me know the name of the traitor who has deceived 
 her ; and do promise, not only her, but all the fair ones 
 of Great Britain who lie under the same calamity, to 
 employ my right hand for their redress, and serve them 
 to my last drop of ink. 
 
 No. I 29. [Addison.' 
 
 From Thursday, Feb. 2, to Saturday, Feb. 4, 1709-10. 
 
 Ingenio manus est et cervix cjesa. — ^Juv., Sat. x. 120. 
 
 From my own Apartment, February 3. 
 
 When my paper for to-morrow was prepared for the 
 press, there came in this morning a mail from 
 Holland, which brought me several advices from foreign 
 
 ^ There is the following note in No. 1 30 (orig. folio) : " Errata in 
 the last. Insert the following motto, which was overlooked by the 
 printer," &c. "Col. z, line 16, for Oration read Ovation." Probably 
 this paper. No. 129, was by Addison, not only because of these cor- 
 
 VOL, III. 81 F 
 
The ± at lev No. 129. February 4, 1709-10 
 
 parts, and took my thoughts off domestic aiFairs. Among 
 others, I have a letter from a burgher of Amsterdam, 
 who makes me his compliments, and tells me, he has sent 
 me several draughts of humorous and satirical pictures by 
 the best hands of the Dutch nation. They are a trading 
 people, and in their very minds mechanics. They express 
 their wit in manufacture, as we do in manuscript. He 
 informs me, that a very witty hand has lately represented 
 the present posture of public affairs in a landscape, or rather 
 sea-piece, wherein the potentates of the Alliance are 
 figured as their interests correspond with, or affect each 
 other, under the appearance of commanders of ships. 
 These vessels carry the colours of the respective nations 
 concerned in the present war. The whole design seems to 
 tend to one point, which is, that several squadrons of British 
 and Dutch ships are battering a French man-of-war, in 
 order to make her deliver up a long-boat with Spanish 
 colours. My correspondent informs me, that a man must 
 understand the compass perfectly well, to be able to com- 
 prehend the beauty and invention of this piece, which is 
 so skilfully drawn, that the particular views of every 
 prince in Europe are seen according as the ships lie to the 
 main figure in the picture, and as that figure may help or 
 retard their sailing. It seems this curiosity is now on 
 board a ship bound for England, and with other rarities 
 made a present to me. As soon as it arrives, I design to 
 expose it to public view at my secretary Mr. Lillie's, who 
 shall have an explication of all the terms of art ; and I 
 doubt not but it will give as good content as the moving 
 picture in Fleet Street.* 
 
 rections, but because of the allusions to medals, &c., in the letter from 
 Pasquin. The paper is, however, not included in Addison's Works. 
 
 ' " To be seen daily, at the Duke of Marlborough's Head in Fleet 
 Street, a new moving picture, drawn by the best hand, with great 
 
 8z 
 
No. 129- February 4, 1709-10 'The Tatler 
 
 But above all the honours I have received from the 
 learned world abroad, I am most delighted with the follow- 
 ing epistle from Rome : 
 
 " Tasquin of Rome, to Isaac Bicker staff of Qreat Britain, 
 
 greeting. 
 "Sir, 
 
 *' "VT'our reputation has passed the Alps, and would have 
 ^ come to my ears by this time, if I had any. In 
 short, sir, you are looked upon here as a Northern droll, 
 and the greatest virtuoso among the Tramontanes. Some 
 indeed say, that Mr. BickerstafF and Pasquin are only 
 names invented, to father compositions which the natural 
 parent does not care for owning. But however that is, all 
 agree, that there are several persons, who, if they durst 
 attack you, would endeavour to leave you no more limbs 
 than I have. I need not tell you that my adversaries have 
 joined in a confederacy with Time to demolish me, and that, 
 if I were not a very great wit, I should make the worst 
 figure in Europe, being abridged of my legs, arms, nose, 
 and ears. If you think fit to accept of the correspondence 
 of so facetious a cripple, I shall from time to time send 
 you an account of what happens at Rome. You have only 
 heard of it from Latin and Greek authors ; may, perhaps, 
 have read no accounts from hence, but of a triumph, 
 ovation, or apotheosis, and will, doubtless, be surprised to 
 
 variety of curious motions and figures, which form a most agreeable 
 prospect. It has the general approbation of all who see it, and far 
 exceeds the original formerly shown at the same place. — N.B. This 
 picture was never exposed to public view, before the beginning of the 
 present year 1710" (No. 127, Advertisement). "The famous and 
 curious original moving picture, which came from Germany, that was 
 designed for the Elector of Bavaria, is still to be seen at the Duke of 
 Marlborough's Head, in Fleet Street ;" &c. — Postman, March 1-3, 
 1709 [-10]. 
 
 83 
 
± he lUtlcr No. 129. February 4, 1709-10 
 
 see the description of a procession, jubilee, or canonisation. 
 I shall however send you what the place affords, in return 
 to what I shall receive from you. If you will acquaint me 
 with your next promotion of general officers, I will send 
 you an account of our next advancement of saints. If you 
 will let me know who is reckoned the bravest warrior in 
 Great Britain, I'll tell you who is the best fiddler in Rome. 
 If you will favour me with an inventory of the riches that 
 were brought into your nation by Admiral Wager," I will 
 not fail giving you an account of a pot of medals that has 
 been lately dug up here, and are now under the examina- 
 tion of our ministers of state. 
 
 " There is one thing in which I desire you would be 
 very particular. What I mean is an exact list of all the 
 religions in Great Britain, as likewise the habits, which are 
 said here to be the great points of conscience in England, 
 whether they are made of serge or broadcloth, of silk or 
 linen. I should be glad to see a model of the most con- 
 scientious dress amongst you, and desire you would send 
 
 ' Charles Wager was first made a captain at the battle of La Hogue 
 by Admiral Russell, who recommended him on the most important 
 services. He was sent commodore to the West Indies in 1707, where 
 he attacked the Spanish galleons, May z8, 1708, with three ships, 
 though they were fourteen in number drawn up in line of battle, and 
 defeated them. His services Queen Anne distinguished by sending 
 him a flag as Vice-admiral of the Blue, intended for him before this 
 engagement, and by honouring him at his return with knighthood; 
 His share of prize-money amounted to 100,000/. But the riches he 
 acquired, on this and other occasions, were regarded by him only as 
 instruments of doing good ; accordingly he gave fortunes to his rela- 
 tions, that he might see them happy in his lifetime ; and to persons 
 in distress, his liberality was such, that whole families were supported, 
 and their estates and fortunes saved, by his generosity. He was pro- 
 moted to be Rear-admiral of the Red, November 9, 1709 ; and in that 
 year was returned for Portsmouth to Parliament, where he continued 
 to sit till his death. In April 1726, he was sent up the Baltic as 
 Vice-admiral of the Red, with a large fleet on an important expedition; 
 
 84 
 
No. 129- February 4, 1709-^° 'The Tatlef 
 
 me a hat of each religion ; as likewise, if it be not too 
 much trouble, a cravat. It would also be very acceptable 
 here to receive an account of those two religious orders 
 which are lately sprung up amongst you, the Whigs and 
 the Tories, with the points of doctrine, severities in discip- 
 line, penances, mortifications, and good works, by which 
 they differ one from another. It would be no less kind 
 if you would explain to us a word which they do not 
 understand even at our English monastery toasts, and 
 let us know whether the ladies so called are nuns or lay- 
 sisters. 
 
 " In return, I will send you the secret history of several 
 cardinals, which I have by me in manuscript, with gal- 
 lantries, amours, politics, and intrigues, by which they 
 made their way to the Holy Purple. 
 
 " But when I propose a correspondence, I must not tell 
 you what I intend to advise you of hereafter, and neglect 
 to give you what I have at present. The Pope has been 
 sick for this fortnight of a violent toothache, which has 
 very much raised the French faction, and put the conclave 
 into a great ferment. Every one of the pretenders to the 
 
 and performed all that could be expected from the wisdom and skill 
 of an English admiral. He dined with the King of Denmark ; had 
 an audience of the King of Sweden ; and exchanged many civilities 
 with Prince Menzikoff, then Prime Minister of Russia. He was 
 appointed Comptroller of the Navy in February 1714 ; a Lord of the 
 Admiralty in March 1717 ; and, on the death of Lord Torrington in 
 January 1732-3, he was placed at the head of that Board, and 
 appointed president of the corporation for relief of poor sea-ofEcers' 
 widows, 4nd also president of the corporation of the Trinity House. 
 He was appointed one of the Lords Regent in 1 74 1 ; Vice-admiral of 
 England and Treasurer of the Navy in 1742 ; and died May 24, 1743, 
 aged 77. A prudent, temperate, wise, and honest man, he was easy 
 of access to all, unaffected in his manners, steady and resolute in his 
 conduct, affable and cheerful in his behaviour, and in time of action 
 or imminent danger was never hurried or discomposed (Nichols). 
 
 85 
 
±he lUtleV No. 129. February 4, 1709-10 
 
 succession is grown twenty years older than he was a 
 fortnight ago. Each candidate tries who shall cough and 
 stoop most ; for these are at present the great gifts that 
 recommend to the apostolical seat, which he stands the 
 fairest for, who is likely to resign it the soonest. I have 
 known the time when it used to rain louis-d'ors on such 
 occasions ; but whatever is the matter, there are very few 
 of them to be seen at present at Rome, insomuch that 
 it is thought a man might purchase infallibility at a 
 very reasonable rate. It is nevertheless hoped that his 
 Holiness may recover, and bury these his imaginary suc- 
 cessors. 
 
 " There has lately been found a human tooth in a 
 catacomb, which has engaged a couple of convents in a 
 lawsuit ; each of them pretending that it belonged to the 
 jawbone of a saint who was of their Order. The colleges 
 have sat upon it thrice, and I find there is a disposition 
 among them to take it out of the possession of both the 
 contending parties, by reason of a speech which was made 
 by one of the cardinals, who, by reason of its being 
 found out of the company of any other bones, asserted, 
 that it might be one of the teeth which was coughed 
 out by jiEIia, an old woman whose loss is recorded in 
 Martial.' 
 
 " I have nothing remarkable to communicate to you of 
 State affairs, excepting only, that the Pope has lately 
 received a horse from the German ambassador, as an 
 acknowledgment for the kingdom of Naples, which is a 
 fief of the Church. His Holiness refused this horse from 
 the Germans ever since the Duke of Anjou has been 
 possessed of Spain ; but as they lately took care to accom- 
 pany it with a body of ten thousand more, they have at 
 
 1 "Epig."i. 20. 
 86 
 
No. 130. February 7, 1709-10 'The Tatlcr 
 
 last overcome his Holiness's modesty, and prevailed upon 
 him to accept the present. I am, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your most obedient, 
 
 " Humble Servant, 
 
 " Pasquin. 
 
 "P.S. Morforio is very much yours,"' 
 
 No. 130. [? Addison.' 
 
 From Saturday, Feb. 4, to Tuesday, Feb. 7, 1709-10. 
 
 At me 
 
 Cum magnis vixisse invita fatebitur usque 
 Invidia. — Hor., 2 Sat. i. 75. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 6. 
 
 I find some of the most polite Latin authors, who wrote 
 at a time when Rome was in its glory, speak with a 
 certain noble vanity of the brightness and splendour of the 
 age in which they lived. Pliny often compliments . his 
 Emperor Trajan upon this head ; and when he would 
 
 ' See No. 1 30, Advertisement. 
 
 * Nichols suggests that this paper may be by Addison, because in 
 No. 131 Addison has the following note : " For the benefit of my 
 readers, I think myself obliged here to let them know that I always 
 make use of an old-fashioned e, which very little differs from an o. 
 This has been the reason that my printer sometimes mistakes the one 
 for the other ; as in my last paper, I find, those for these, beheld for 
 behold, Corvix for Cervix, and the like." The internal evidence 
 supports this view ; but the paper is not included in Addison's 
 Works. 
 
 87 
 
T^he 'Tatler No. 130. February 7, 1709-10 
 
 animate him to anything great, or dissuade him from any- 
 thing that was improper, he insinuates, that it is befitting 
 or unbecoming the claritas et nitor saculi, that period 
 of time which was made illustrious by his reign. When 
 we cast our eyes back on the history of mankind, and trace 
 them through their several successions to their first original, 
 we sometimes see them breaking out in great and memor- 
 able actions, and towering up to the utmost heights of 
 virtue and knowledge ; when, perhaps, if we carry our 
 observation to a little distance, we see them sunk into 
 sloth and ignorance, and altogether lost in darkness and 
 obscurity. Sometimes the whole species is asleep for two 
 or three generations, and then again awakens into action, 
 flourishes in heroes, philosophers, and poets, who do honour 
 to human nature, and leave such tracts of glory behind 
 them, as distinguish the years in which they acted their 
 part from the ordinary course of time. 
 
 Methinks a man cannot, without a secret satisfaction, 
 consider the glory of the present age, which will shine as 
 bright as any other in the history of mankind. It is still 
 big with great events, and has already produced changes 
 and revolutions which will be as much admired by 
 posterity, as any that have happened in the days of our 
 fathers, or in the old times before them. We have seen 
 kingdoms divided and united, monarchs erected and 
 deposed, nations transferred from one sovereign to another ; 
 conquerors raised to such a greatness as has given a terror 
 to Europe, and thrown down by such a fall, as has moved 
 their pity. 
 
 But it is still a more pleasing view to an Englishman, to 
 see his own country give the chief influence to so illustrious 
 an age, and stand in the strongest point of light amidst the 
 diffused glory that surrounds it. 
 
 If we begin with learned men, we may observe, to the 
 
 88 
 
No. 1 30. February 7, 1709-10 I'he 'Tatler 
 
 honour of our country, that those who make the greatest 
 figure in most arts and sciences, are universally allowed to 
 be of the British nation ; and what is more remarkable, 
 that men of the greatest learning are among the men of 
 the greatest quality. 
 
 [.- A nation may indeed abound with persons of such 
 uncommon parts and worth, as may make them rather a 
 misfortune than a blessing to the public. Those who 
 singly might have been of infinite advantage to the age 
 they live in, may, by rising up together in the same crisis 
 of time, and by interfering in their pursuits of honour, 
 rather interrupt than promote the service of their country. 
 Of this we have a famous instance in the Republic of Rome, 
 when Caesar, Pompey, Cato, Cicero, and Brutus, en- 
 deavoured to recommend themselves at the same time to 
 the admiration of their contemporaries. Mankind was not 
 able to provide for so many extraordinary persons at once, 
 or find out posts suitable to their ambition and abilities. 
 For this reason, they were all as miserable in their deaths 
 as they were famous in their lives, and occasioned, not 
 only the ruin of each other, but also that of the common- 
 wealth. 
 
 It is therefore a particular happiness to a people, when 
 the men of superior genius and character are so justly 
 disposed in the high places of honour, that each of them 
 moves in a sphere which is proper to him, and requires 
 those particular qualities in which he excels. 
 
 If I see a general commanding the forces of his country, 
 whose victories are not to be paralleled in story, and who is 
 as famous for his negotiations as his victories ; ' and at the 
 same time see the management of a nation's treasury in the 
 hands of one who has always distinguished himself by a 
 generous contempt of his own private wealth, and an 
 
 ' The Duke of Marlborough. 
 89 
 
xh6 IdtlCy No. 130. February 7, 1709-10 
 
 exact frugality of that which belongs to the public ; ' I 
 cannot but think a people under such an Administration 
 may promise themselves conquest abroad, and plenty at 
 home. If I were to wish for a proper person to preside 
 over the public councils, it should certainly be one as much 
 admired for his universal knowledge of men and things, 
 as for his eloquence, courage and integrity, in the exerting 
 of such extraordinary talents.^ 
 
 Who is not pleased to see a person in the highest 
 station in the law, who was the most eminent in his 
 profession, and the most accomplished orator at the Bar ?' 
 Or at the head of the fleet a commander, under whose 
 conduct the common enemy received such a blow as he has 
 never been able to recover ?* 
 
 Were we to form to ourselves the idea of one whom we 
 should think proper to govern a distant kingdom, con- 
 sisting chiefly of those who diff^er from us in religion, and 
 are influenced by foreign politics, would it not be such a 
 one as had signalised himself by a uniform and unshaken 
 zeal for the Protestant interest, and by his dexterity in 
 defeating the skill and artifice of its enemies ?' In short, if 
 we find a great man popular for his honesty and humanity, 
 as well as famed for his learning and great skill in all the 
 languages of Europe, or a person eminent for those 
 qualifications which make men shine in public assemblies, 
 or for that steadiness, constancy, and good sense, which 
 carry a man to the desired point through all the opposition 
 of tumult and prejudice, we have the happiness to behold 
 them all in posts suitable to their characters. 
 
 Such a constellation of great persons, if I may so speak, 
 
 ^ Sidney, Lord Godolphin. ^ Lord Somers. See No. 4, 
 
 ^ Lord Chancellor Cowper. See the Dedication to this volume. 
 " Edward Russell, Earl of Oxford. See No. 4. 
 ^ Thomas, Earl of Wharton, the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. 
 
 90 
 
No. I30. February 7, 1709-10 I'he T'dthr 
 
 while they shine out in their own distinct capacities, reflect 
 a lustre upon each other, but in a more particular manner 
 on their Sovereign, who has placed them in those proper 
 situations, by which their virtues become so beneficid to all 
 her subjects. It is the anniversary of the birthday of this 
 glorious Queen which naturally led me into this field of 
 contemplation, and instead of joining in the public exul- 
 tations that are made on such occasions, to entertain my 
 thoughts with the more serious pleasure of ruminating upon 
 the glories of her reign. 
 
 While I behold her surrounded with triumphs, and 
 adorned with all the prosperity and success which Heaven 
 ever shed on a mortal, and still considering herself as such; 
 though the person appears to me exceeding great that has 
 these just honours paid to her, yet I must confess, she 
 appears much greater in that she receives them with such 
 a glorious humility, and shows she has no further regard 
 for them, than as they arise from these great events which 
 have made her subjects happy. For my own part, I must 
 confers, when I see private virtues in so high a degree of 
 perfection, I am not astonished at any extraordinary success 
 that attends them, but look upon public triumphs as the 
 natural consequences of religious retirements. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Finding some persons have mistaken Pasquin who was 
 mentioned in my last, for one who has been pilloried at 
 Rome ; I must here advertise them, that it is only a 
 maimed statue so called, on which the private scandal of 
 that city is generally pasted. Morforio is a person of the 
 same quality, who is usually made to answer whatever is 
 published by the other : the wits of that place, like too 
 many of our own country, taking pleasure in setting 
 innocent people together by the ears. The mentioning of 
 
 91 
 
A he Ta tier No. 131. February 9, 1 709-10 
 
 this person, who is a great wit, and a great cripple, put me 
 in mind of Mr. Estcourt,' who is under the same circum- 
 stances. He was formerly my apothecary, and being at 
 present disabled by the gout and stone, I must recommend 
 him to the public on Thursday next, that admirable play 
 of Ben Jonson's, called, "The Silent Woman," being 
 appointed to be acted for his benefit. It would be 
 indecent for me to appear twice in a season at these 
 ludicrous diversions ; but as I always give my man and my 
 maid one day in the year, I shall allow them this, and am 
 promised by Mr. Estcourt, my ingenious apothecary, that 
 they shall have a place kept for them in the first row of 
 the middle gallery. 
 
 No. 131. [Addison. 
 
 From Tuesday, Feb. 7, to Thursday, Feb. 9, 1709-10. 
 
 Scelus est jugulare Falernum, 
 
 Et dare Campano toxica sjeva mero. 
 
 Mart., Epig. i. i8. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 8. 
 
 There is in this city a certain fraternity of chemical 
 operators, who work under ground in holes, caverns, 
 and dark retirements, to conceal their mysteries from the 
 eyes and observation of mankind. These subterraneous 
 philosophers are daily employed in the transmutation of 
 liquors, and, by the power of magical drugs and incanta- 
 tions, raising under the streets of London the choicest 
 products of the hills and valleys of France. They can 
 
 ^ See Nos. 20, 51. Estcourt was apprenticed to an apothecary, 
 and is said to have tried that business before going on the stage. 
 
 92 
 
No. 131. February 9, 1709-10 The Tutler 
 
 squeeze bordeaux out of the sloe, and draw champagne 
 from an apple. Virgil in that remarkable prophecy, 
 
 Incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus uva^ 
 
 ( The ripening grape shall hang on every thorn), 
 
 seems to have hinted at this art which can turn a plantation, 
 of Northern hedges into a vineyard. These adepts are 
 known among one another by the name of "wine-brewers," 
 and I am afraid do great injury, not only to her Majesty's 
 customs, but to the bodies of many of her good subjects. 
 
 Having received sundry complaints against these 
 invisible workmen, I ordered the proper officer of my 
 court to ferret them out of their respective caves, and 
 bring them before me, which was yesterday executed 
 accordingly. 
 
 The person who appeared against them was a merchant, 
 who had by him a great magazine of wines that he had 
 laid in before the war : but these gentlemen (as he said) 
 had so vitiated the nation's palate, that no man could 
 believe his to be French, because it did not taste like what 
 they sold for such. As a man never pleads better than 
 where his own personal interest is concerned, he exhibited 
 to the court with great eloquence, that this new corpora- 
 tion of druggists had inflamed the bills of mortality, and 
 puzzled the College of Physicians with diseases, for which 
 they neither knew a name nor cure. He accused some 
 of giving all their customers colics and megrims ; and 
 mentioned one who had boasted, he had a tun of claret 
 by him, that in a fortnight's time should give the gout to 
 a dozen of the healthiest men in the city, provided that 
 their constitutions were prepared for it by wealth and 
 idleness. He then enlarged, with a great show of reason, 
 
 " Eclog. iv. 29. 
 93 
 
'fhe 'Tatler No. 131. February 9, 1709-10 
 
 upon the prejudice which these mixtures and compositions 
 had done to the brains of the English nation ; as is too 
 visible (said he) from many late pamphlets, speeches and 
 sermons, as well as from the ordinary conversations of the 
 youth of this age. He then quoted an ingenious person, 
 who would undertake to know by a man's writings, the 
 wine he most delighted in ; and on that occasion named a 
 certain satirist, whom he had discovered to be the author 
 of a lampoon, by a manifest taste of the sloe, which showed 
 itself in it by much roughness, and little spirit. 
 
 In the last place, he ascribed to the unnatural tumults 
 and fermentations which these mixtures raise in our blood, 
 the divisions, heat and animosities, that reign among us ; 
 and in particular, asserted most of the modern enthusiasms 
 and agitations to be nothing else but the effects of 
 adulterated port. 
 
 The counsel for the brewers had a face so extremely 
 inflamed and illuminated with carbuncles, that I did not 
 wonder to see him an advocate for these sophistications. 
 His rhetoric was likewise such as I should have expected 
 from the common draught, which I found he often drank 
 to a great excess. Indeed, I was so surprised at his figure 
 and parts, that I ordered him to give me a taste of his 
 usual liquor ; which I had no sooner drunk, but I found 
 a pimple rising in my forehead ; and felt such a sensible 
 decay in my understanding, that I would not proceed in 
 the trial till the fume of it was entirely dissipated. 
 
 This notable advocate had little to say in the defence of 
 his clients, but that they were under a necessity of making 
 claret if they would keep open their doors, it being the 
 nature of mankind to love everything that is prohibited. 
 He further pretended to reason, that it might be as 
 profitable to the nation to make French wine as French 
 hats ; and concluded with the great advantage that this had 
 
 9+ 
 
No. 131. February 9, 1709-10 Tike 'Tatlcr 
 
 already brought to part of the kingdom. Upon which he 
 informed the court, that the lands in Hertfordshire were 
 raised two years' purchase since the beginning of the war. 
 When I had sent out my summons to these people, I 
 gave at the same time orders to each of them to bring 
 the several ingredients he made use of in distinct phials, 
 which they had done accordingly, and ranged them into 
 two rows on each side of the court. The workmen were 
 drawn up in ranks behind them. The merchant informed 
 me, that in one row of phials were the several colours they 
 dealt in, and in the other the tastes. He then showed me 
 on the right hand one who went by the name of Tom 
 Tintoret, who (as he told me) was the greatest master in 
 his colouring of any vintner in London.' To give me 
 a proof of his art, he took a glass of fair water ; and by the 
 infusion of three drops out of one of his phials, converted 
 it into a most beautiful pale burgundy. Two more of the 
 same kind heightened it into a perfect languedoc : from 
 thence it passed into a florid hermitage : and after having 
 gone through two or three other changes, by the addition 
 of a single drop, ended in a very deep pontack.^ This 
 ingenious virtuoso seeing me very much surprised at his 
 art, told me, that he had not an opportunity of showing it 
 in perfection, having only made use of water for the 
 groundwork of his colouring : but that if I were to see 
 an operation upon liquors of stronger bodies, the art 
 would appear to a much greater advantage. He added, 
 that he doubted not that it would please my curiosity 
 to see the cider of one apple take only a vermilion, when 
 
 ' See No. 138. 
 
 * A fashionable eating-house in Abchurch Lane, kept by one 
 Pontack, who was son of the President of Bordeaux, then owner, as 
 Evelyn tells us, of the excellent vineyards of Pontaq and Haut 
 Brion. 
 
 95 
 
The Tatler No. 131. February 9, 1709-10 
 
 another, with a less quantity of the same infusion, would 
 rise into a dark purple, according to the different texture 
 of parts in the liquor. He informed me also, that 
 he could hit the different shades and degrees of red, as 
 they appear in the pink and the rose, the clove and the 
 carnation, as he had Rhenish or Moselle, perry, or white 
 port, to work in. 
 
 I was so satisfied with the ingenuity of this virtuoso, 
 that, after having advised him to quit so dishonest a pro- 
 fession, I promised him, in consideration of his great 
 genius, to recommend him as a partner to a friend of 
 mine, who has heaped up great riches, and is a scarlet 
 dyer. 
 
 The artists on my other hand were ordered in the 
 second place to make some experiments of their skill 
 before me : upon which the famous Harry Sippet stepped 
 out, and asked me what I would be pleased to drink. At 
 the same time he filled out three or four white liquors in a 
 glass, and told me, that it should be what I pleased to call 
 for ; adding very learnedly, that the liquor before him was 
 as the naked substance or first matter of his compound, to 
 which he and his friend, who stood over against him, 
 could give what accidents or form they pleased. Finding 
 him so great a philosopher, I desired he would convey 
 into it the qualities and essence of right bordeaux. 
 " Coming, coming, sir," said he, with the air of a drawer ; 
 and after having cast his eye on the several tastes and 
 flavours that stood before him, he took up a little cruet 
 that was filled with a kind of inky juice, and pouring some 
 of it out into the glass of white wine, presented it to me, 
 and told me, this was the wine over which most of the 
 business of the last term had been despatched. I must 
 confess, I looked upon that sooty drug which he held up 
 in his cruet as the quintessence of English bordeaux, and 
 
 96 
 
No. 131. February 9, 1 709- 1 o Th 6 iCltlc T 
 
 therefore desired him to give me a glass of it by itself, 
 which he did with great unwillingness. My cat at that 
 time sat by me upon the elbow of my chair ; and as I did 
 not care for making the experiment upon myself, I reached 
 it to her to sip of it, which had like to have cost her her 
 life ; for notwithstanding it flung her at first into freakish 
 tricks, quite contrary to her usual gravity, in less than a 
 quarter of an hour she fell into convulsions ; and had it 
 not been a creature more tenacious of life than any other, 
 would certainly have died under the operation. 
 
 I was so incensed by the tortures of my innocent 
 domestic, and the unworthy dealings of these men, that I 
 told them, if each of them had as many lives as the injured 
 creature before them, they deserved to forfeit them for the 
 pernicious arts which they used for their profit. I there- 
 fore bid them look upon themselves as no better than as a 
 kind of assassins and murderers within the law. However, 
 since they had dealt so clearly with me, and laid before me 
 their whole practice, I dismissed them for that time ; with 
 a particular request, that they would not poison any of my 
 friends and acquaintance, and take to some honest liveli- 
 hood without loss of time. 
 
 For my own part, I have resolved hereafter to be very 
 careful in my liquors, and have agreed with a friend of 
 mine in the army, upon their next march, to secure me 
 two hogsheads of the best stomach-wine in the cellars of 
 Versailles, for the good of my Lucubrations, and the com- 
 fort of my old age. 
 
 VOL. III. 97 
 
The 'Tatler No. 132. February 11,1709-10 
 
 No. 132. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Thursday^ Feb. 9, to Saturday, Feb. 11, 1709-10. 
 
 Habeo senectuti magnam gratiam, quse mihi sermonis aviditatem 
 auxit, potionis et cibi sustulit. — Cicero, De Sen. 4.6. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 10. 
 
 After having applied my mind with more than ordinary 
 attention to my studies, it is my usual custom to 
 relax and unbend it in the conversation of such as are 
 rather easy than shining companions. This I find par- 
 ticularly necessary for me before I retire to rest, in order 
 to draw my slumbers upon me by degrees, and fall asleep 
 insensibly. This is the particular use I make of a set of 
 heavy honest men, with whom I have passed many hours, 
 with much indolence, though not with great pleasure. 
 Their conversation is a kind of preparative for sleep : it 
 takes the mind down from its abstractions, leads it into 
 the familiar traces' of thought, and lulls it into that state 
 of tranquillity, which is the condition of a thinking man 
 when he is but half awake. After this, my reader will not 
 be surprised to hear the account which I am about to give 
 of a club of my own contemporaries, among whom I pass 
 two or three hours every evening. This I look upon as 
 taking my first nap before I go to bed. The truth of it 
 is, I should think myself unjust to posterity, as well as to 
 the society at the Trumpet,' of which I am a member, did 
 not I in some part of my writings give an account of the 
 
 ' Paths. 
 
 ^ The Trumpet stood about half-way up Shire Lane, between 
 Temple Bar and Carey Street, at the widest and best part of the lane, 
 and remained almost entirely in its original state until demolished to 
 
 98 
 
No. 132. February 11,1709-10 I'he 'Tutler 
 
 persons among whom I have passed almost a sixth part of 
 "my time for these last forty years. Our club consisted 
 originally of fifteen ; but partly by the severity of the law 
 in arbitrary times, and partly by the natural effects of old 
 age, we are at present reduced to a third part of that 
 number : in which however we have this consolation, that 
 the best company is said to consist of five persons. I must 
 confess, besides the aforementioned benefit which I meet 
 with in the conversation of this select society, I am not the 
 less pleased with the company, in that I find myself the 
 greatest wit among them, and am heard as their oracle in 
 all points of learning and difficulty. 
 
 Sir JeofFrey Notch, who is the oldest of the club, has 
 been in possession of the right-hand chair time out of 
 mind, and is the only man among us that has the liberty 
 of stirring the fire. This our foreman is a gentleman of 
 an ancient family, that came to a great estate some years 
 before he had discretion, and run it out in hounds, horses, 
 and cock-fighting ; for which reason he looks upon him- 
 self as an honest worthy gentleman who has had mis- 
 fortunes in the world, and calls every thriving man a 
 pitiful upstart. 
 
 Major Matchlock is the next senior, who served in the 
 last civil wars, and has all the battles by heart. He does 
 not think any action in Europe worth talking of since the 
 fight of Marston Moor ; ' and every night tells us of his 
 having been knocked off his horse at the rising of the London 
 apprentices ; ' for which he is in great esteem amongst us. 
 
 make way for the new Law Courts. It had the old sign of the 
 Trumpet to the last, as it is figured in Limbard's " Mirror," in a picture 
 where it is placed side by side, with a view of the house in Fulwood's 
 Rents where papers for the Spectator were taken in. 
 
 ' July 2, 1644. 
 
 " In July 164.7 the London apprentices presented a petition, and 
 forced their way into the House of Commons. 
 
 99 
 
The Tat lev No. 132. February 11,1709-10 
 
 Honest old Dick Reptile is the third of our society : 
 he is a good-natured indolent man, who speaks little him- 
 self, but laughs at our jokes, and brings his young nephew 
 along with him, a youth of eighteen years old, to show 
 him good company, and give him a taste of the world. 
 This young fellow sits generally silent ; but whenever he 
 opens his mouth, or laughs at anything that passes, he is 
 constantly told by his uncle, after a jocular manner, " Ay, 
 ay. Jack, you young men think us fools ; but we old men 
 know you are." ' 
 
 The greatest wit of our company, next to myself, is a 
 bencher of the neighbouring inn, who in his youth 
 frequented the ordinaries about Charing Cross, and 
 pretends to have been intimate with Jack Ogle.' He has 
 about ten distichs of " Hudibras " without book, and never 
 leaves the club till he has applied them all. If any modern 
 
 ' This retort, in almost identical words, occurs in Swift's " Genteel 
 Conversation " (1739), and in Defoe's "Life of Duncan Campbell" 
 (1720). 
 
 " Jack Ogle, said to have been descended from a decent family in 
 Devonshire, was a man of some genius and great extravagance, but 
 rather artful than witty. Ogle bad an only sister, more beautiful, it is 
 said, than was necessary to arrive, as she did, at the honour of being 
 a mistress to the Duke of York, This sister Ogle laid under very 
 frequent contributions to supply his wants and support his extrava- 
 gance. It is said that, by the interest of her royal keeper. Ogle was 
 placed, as a private gentleman, in the first troop of foot guards, at 
 that time under the command of the Duke of Monmouth. To this 
 era of Ogle's life the story of the red petticoat refers. He had 
 pawned his trooper's cloak, and to save appearances at a review, had 
 borrowed his landlady's red petticoat, which he carried rolled up en 
 croupe behind him. The Duke of Monmouth " smoked " it, and willing 
 to enjoy the confusion of a detection, gave order to " cloak all," with 
 which Ogle, after some hesitation, was obliged to comply ; although 
 he could not cloak, he said he would petticoat with the best of them. 
 Such as are curious to know more of the history, the duels, and odd 
 pranks of this mad fellow, may consult the account of them in the 
 "Memoirs of Gamesters," 1714, izmo, p. xii (Nichols). 
 
 100 
 
No. 132. February 11,1709-10 I'he 'Tatlcr 
 
 wit be mentioned, or any town frolic spoken of, he shakes 
 his head at the dulness of the present age, and tells us a 
 story of Jack Ogle. 
 
 For my own part, I am esteemed among them, because 
 they see I am something respected by others, though at the 
 same time I understand by their behaviour, that I am con- 
 sidered by them as a man of a great deal of learning, but 
 no knowledge of the world ; insomuch that the Major 
 sometimes, in the height of his military pride, calls me the 
 philosopher : and Sir JeofFrey no longer ago than last 
 night, upon a dispute what day of the month it was then 
 in Holland, pulled his pipe out of his mouth, and cried, 
 " What does the scholar say to it .? " 
 
 Our club meets precisely at six o'clock in the evening ; 
 but I did not come last night till half an hour after seven, 
 by which means I escaped the battle of Naseby, which the 
 Major usually begins at about three-quarters after six ; I 
 found also, that my good friend, the bencher, had already 
 spent three of his distichs, and only waiting an oppor- 
 tunity to hear a sermon spoken of, that he might intro- 
 duce the couplet where "a stick" rhymes to "ecclesiastic."' 
 At my entrance into the room, they were naming a red 
 petticoat and a cloak, by which I found that the bencher 
 had been diverting them with a story of Jack Ogle. 
 
 I had no sooner taken my seat, but Sir Jeoffrey, to show 
 his goodwill towards me, gave me a pipe of his own 
 tobacco, and stirred up the fire. I look upon it as a point 
 of morality, to be obliged by those who endeavour to 
 oblige me ; and therefore in requital for his kindness, and 
 to set the conversation a-going, I took the best occasion I 
 could, to put him upon telling us the story of old Gantlett, 
 
 ^ " When pulpit drum ecclesiastic 
 
 Was beat with fist instead of a stick." 
 
 — " Hudibras," Part I. c. i. line 10. 
 
 lOI 
 
The Tatler No. 132. February 11,1709-10 
 
 which he always does with very particular concern. He 
 traced up his descent on both sides for several generations, 
 describing his diet and manner of life, with his several 
 battles, and particularly that in which he fell. This 
 Gantlett was a game-cock, upon whose head the knight in 
 his youth had won five hundred pounds, and lost two 
 thousand. This naturally set the major upon the account 
 of Edge Hill fight, and ended in a duel of Jack Ogle's. 
 
 Old Reptile was extremely attentive to all that was said, 
 though it was the same he had heard every night for these 
 twenty years, and upon all occasions, winked upon his 
 nephew to mind what passed. 
 
 This may suffice to give the world a taste of our inno- 
 cent conversation, which we spun out till about ten of the 
 clock, when my maid' came with a lantern to light me 
 home. I could not but reflect with myself as I was going 
 out upon the talkative humour of old men, and the little 
 figure which that part of life makes in one who cannot 
 employ this natural propensity in discourses which would 
 make him venerable. I must own, it makes me very 
 melancholy in company, when I hear a young man begin a 
 story ; and have often observed, that one of a quarter of an 
 hour long in a man of five and twenty, gathers circum- 
 stances every time he tells it, till it grows into a long 
 Canterbury tale of two hours by that time he is three- 
 score. 
 
 The only way of avoiding such a trifling and frivolous 
 old age, is, to lay up in our way to it such stores of know- 
 ledge and observation as may make us useful and agree- 
 able in our declining years. The mind of man in a long 
 life will become a magazine of wisdom or folly, and will 
 
 1 Cf. No. 130, Advertisements. The dangers of the streets at the 
 beginning of the eighteenth century are described in Gay's " Trivia," 
 iii. 335 sej. 
 
 102 
 
No. 133. February 14, 1709-10 The 'Tatlef 
 
 consequently discharge itself in something impertinent or 
 improving. For which reason, as there is nothing more 
 ridiculous than an old trifling story-teller, so there is 
 nothing more venerable than one who has turned his 
 experience to the entertainment and advantage of man- 
 kind. 
 
 In short, we who are in the last stage of life, and are apt 
 to indulge ourselves in talk, ought to consider, if what we 
 speak be worth being heard, and endeavour to make our 
 discourse like that of Nestor, which Homer compares to 
 the flowing of honey for its sweetness.' 
 
 I am afraid I shall be thought guilty of this excess I am 
 speaking of, when I cannot conclude without observing, 
 that Milton certainly thought of this passage in Homer, 
 when in his description of an eloquent spirit, he says, *' His 
 tongue dropped manna."'' 
 
 No. 133. [Addison. 
 
 From Saturday, Feb. 11, to 'Tuesday, Feb. 14, 1709-10. 
 
 Dum tacent, clamant. — Tull. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 13. 
 
 Silence is sometimes more significant and sublime than 
 ■the most noble and most expressive eloquence, and is 
 on many occasions the indication of a great mind. 
 Several authors have treated of silence as a part of duty 
 and discretion, but none of them have considered it in this 
 
 1 " Iliad," i. 249. 
 
 ' Milton says of Belial ("Paradise Lost," ii. 112) : 
 
 " But all was false and hollow, though his tongue 
 Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better cause." 
 
 103 
 
^he 'Tatler No. 133. February 14,1709-10 
 
 light. Homer compares the noise and clamour of the 
 Trojans advancing towards the enemy, to the cackling of 
 cranes when they invade an army of pigmies.' On the 
 contrary, he makes his countrymen and favourites, the 
 Greeks, move forward in a regular determined march, and 
 in the depth of silence. I find in the accounts which are 
 given us of some of the more Eastern nations, where the 
 inhabitants are disposed by their constitutions and climates 
 to higher strains of thought, and more elevated raptures 
 than what we feel in the northern regions of the world, 
 that silence is a religious exercise among them. For when 
 their public devotions are in the greatest fervour, and 
 their hearts lifted up as high as words can raise them, 
 there are certain suspensions of sound and motion for a 
 time, in which the mind is left to itself, and supposed to 
 swell with such secret conceptions as are too big for utter- 
 ance. I have myself been wonderfully delighted with a 
 masterpiece of music, when in the very tumult and ferment 
 6f their harmony, all the voices and instruments have 
 stopped short on a sudden, and after a little pause 
 recovered themselves again as it were, and renewed the 
 concert in all its parts. Methought this short interval of 
 silence has had more music in it than any the same space 
 of time before or after it There are two instances of 
 silence in the two greatest poets that ever wrote, which 
 have something in them as sublime as any of the speeches 
 in their whole works. The first is that of Ajax, in the 
 eleventh book of the Odyssey.' Ulysses, who had been the 
 rival of this great man in his life, as well as the occasion 
 of his death, upon meeting his shade in the region of 
 departed heroes, makes his submission to him with a 
 humility next to adoration, which the other passes over 
 with dumb sullen majesty, and such a silence, as (to use 
 
 1 "Iliad," iii. 3. = " Odyssey," xi. 563. 
 
 104 
 
No. 133- February 14, 1709-10 The Tatlef 
 
 the words of Longinus) had more greatness in it than any- 
 thing he could have spoken. 
 
 The next instance I shall mention is in Virgil, where 
 the poet, doubtless, imitates this silence of Ajax in that of 
 Dido ; ' though I do not know that any of his commen- 
 tators have taken notice of it. Rx\sa& finding among the 
 shades of despairing lovers, the ghost of her who had 
 lately died for him, with the wound still fresh upon her, 
 addresses himself to her with expanded arms, floods of 
 tears, and the most passionate professions of his own 
 innocence as to what had happened ; all which Dido 
 receives with the dignity and disdain of a resenting lover, 
 and an injured Queen ; and is so far from vouchsafing him 
 an answer, that she does not give him a single look. The 
 poet represents her as turning away her face from him 
 while he spoke to her ; and after having kept her eyes for 
 some time upon the ground, as one that heard and con- 
 temned his protestations, flying from him into the grove 
 of myrtle, and into the arms of another, whose fidelity had 
 deserved her love.' 
 
 I have often thought our writers of tragedy have been 
 very defective in this particular, and that they might have 
 given great beauty to their works, by certain stops and 
 pauses in the representation of such passions, as it is not 
 in the power of language to express. There is something 
 like this in the last act of "Venice Preserved," where 
 Pierre is brought to an infamous execution, and begs of 
 his friend,' as a reparation for past injuries, and the only 
 favour he could do him, to rescue him from the ignominy 
 of the wheel by stabbing him. As he is going to make 
 this dreadful request, he is not able to communicate it, but 
 withdraws his face from his friend's ear, and bursts into 
 
 ^ " -(Eneid," vi. 46. ' Sichaeus. 
 
 ' Jaffier. See Otway's " Venice Preserved," act v. sc. 3. 
 
 105 
 
'The Tatler No. 133. February 14, 1709-10 
 
 tears. The melancholy silence that follows hereupon, and 
 continues till he has recovered himself enough to reveal 
 his mind to his friend, raises in the spectators a grief that 
 is inexpressible, and an idea of such a complicated distress 
 in the actor as words cannot utter. It would look as 
 ridiculous to many readers to give rules and directions for 
 proper silences, as for penning a whisper : but it is certain, 
 that in the extremity of most passions, particularly sur- 
 prise, admiration, astonishment, nay, rage itself, there is 
 nothing more graceful than to see the play stand still for 
 a few moments, and the audience fixed in an agreeable 
 suspense during the silence of a skilful actor. 
 
 But silence never shows itself to so great an advantage, 
 as when it is made the reply to calumny and defamation, 
 provided that we give no just occasion for them. One 
 might produce an example of it in the behaviour of one 
 in whom it appeared in all its majesty, and one whose 
 silence, as well as his person, was altogether divine. 
 When one considers this subject only in its sublimity, this^ 
 great instance could not but occur to me ; and since I 
 only make use of it to show the highest example of it, I 
 hope I do not offend in it. To forbear replying to an 
 unjust reproach, and overlook it with a generous, or (if 
 possible) with an entire neglect of it, is one of the most 
 heroic acts of a great mind. And I must confess, when I 
 reflect upon the behaviour of some of the greatest men in 
 antiquity, I do not so much admire them that they 
 deserved the praise of the whole age they lived in, as 
 because they contemned the envy and detraction of it. 
 
 All that is incumbent on a man of worth, who suffers 
 under so ill a treatment, is to lie by for some time in 
 silence and obscurity, till the prejudice of the times be 
 over, and his reputation cleared. I have often read with a 
 great deal of pleasure a legacy of the famous Lord Bacon, 
 
 106 
 
No. 133. February 14, 1709-10 The AdtliT 
 
 one of the greatest geniuses that our own or any country 
 has produced : after having bequeathed his soul, body, 
 and estate, in the usual form, he adds, " My name and 
 memory I leave to foreign nations, and to my countrymen, 
 after some time be passed over." 
 
 At the same time that I recommend this philosophy 
 to others, I must confess I am so poor a proficient in it 
 myself, that if in the course of my Lucubrations it happens, 
 as it has done more than once, that my paper is duller 
 than in conscience it ought to be, I think the time an 
 age till I have an opportunity of putting out another, and 
 growing famous again for two days. 
 
 I must not close my discourse upon silence, without 
 informing my reader, that I have by me an elaborate 
 treatise on the Aposiopesis called an " Et caetera," it being 
 a figure much used by some learned authors, and particu- 
 larly by the great Littleton, who, as my Lord Chief 
 Justice Coke observes, had a most admirable talent at an 
 et cetera.' 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 To oblige the Pretty Fellows, and my fair readers, I 
 have thought fit to insert the whole passage above 
 mentioned relating to Dido, as it is translated by Mr. 
 Dryden : 
 
 Not far from thence, the mournful fields appear ; 
 So called, from lovers that inhabit there. 
 The souls, whom that unhappy flame invades. 
 In secret solitude, and myrtle shades. 
 Make endless moans, and pining with desire. 
 Lament too late their unextinguished fire. 
 
 * In the preface to his " Institutes of the Laws of England ; or, a 
 Commentary upon Littleton," Coke says, " Certain it is, that there is 
 never a period, nor (for the most part) a word, nor an &c., but 
 affordeth excellent matter of learning." 
 
 107 
 
xhC idtleT No. 133. February 14, 1709-10 
 
 Here Procris, Eryphile here, he found 
 
 Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound 
 
 Made by her son. He saw Pasiphae there. 
 
 With Phadrtls ghost, a foul incestuous pair ; 
 
 There Laodamia with Evadne moves: 
 
 Unhappy both, hut loyal in their loves. 
 
 Caneus, a woman once, and once a man : 
 
 But ending in the sex she first began. 
 
 Not far from these, Phanician Dido stood ; 
 
 Fresh from her wound, her bosom bathed in blood. 
 
 Whom, when the Trojan hero hardly knew. 
 
 Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view 
 
 {Doubtful as he who runs through dusky night, 
 
 Or thinks he sees the mooris uncertain light) 
 
 With tears he first approached the sullen shade ; 
 
 And, as his love inspired him, thus he said : 
 
 " Unhappy queen 1 Then is the common breath 
 
 Of rumour true, in your reported death ; 
 
 And I, alas, the cause I By Heaven, I vow. 
 
 And all the powers that rule the realms below. 
 
 Unwilling I forsook your friendly state. 
 
 Commanded by the gods, and forced by Fate. 
 
 Those gods, that Fate, whose unresisted might, 
 
 Have sent me to these regions, void of light. 
 
 Through the vast empire of eternal night. 
 
 Nor dared I to presume, that, pressed with grief. 
 
 My flight should urge you to this dire relief. 
 
 Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows ; 
 
 ' Tis the last interview that Fate allows ! " 
 
 In vain he thus attempts her mind to move. 
 
 With tears and prayers, and late repenting love. 
 
 Disdainfully she looked, then turning round; 
 
 But fixed her eyes unmoved upon the ground ; 
 
 And, what he says, and swears, regards no more 
 
 Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar ; 
 
 But whirled away, to shun his hateful sight. 
 
 Hid in the forest, and the shades of night. 
 
 Then sought Sichaus through the shady grove. 
 
 Who answered all her cares, and equalled all her love. 
 
 108 
 
No. 134- February 16,1709-10 'The Tatier 
 
 No. 134. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, Feb. 14, to Thursday, Feb. 16, 1709-10. 
 
 Quis talia fando 
 
 Myrmidonum, Dolopumve, aut duri miles Ulixi, 
 Temperet a lachrimis ! — Virg., ^n. ii. 6. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 15. 
 
 I was awakened very early this morning by the distant 
 crowing of a cock, which I thought had the finest pipe 
 I ever heard. He seemed to me to strain his voice more 
 than ordinary, as if he designed to make himself heard to 
 the remotest corner of this lane. Having entertained my- 
 self a little before I went to bed with a discourse on the 
 transmigration of men into other animals, I could not but 
 fancy that this was the soul of some drowsy bellman who 
 used to sleep upon his post, for which he was condemned 
 to do penance in feathers, and distinguish the several 
 watches of the night under the outside of a cock. While 
 I was thinking of the condition of this poor bellman in 
 masquerade, I heard a great knocking at my door, and 
 was soon after told by my mdd, that my worthy friend 
 the tall black gentleman, who frequents the coiFee-houses 
 hereabouts, desired to speak with me. This ancient 
 Pythagorean, who has as much honesty as any man living, 
 but good nature to an excess, brought me the following 
 petition, which I am apt to believe he penned himself, the 
 petitioner not being able to express his mind in paper 
 under his present form, however famous he might have 
 been for writing verses when he was in his original 
 shape. 
 
 109 
 
'The Tatler No. 134. February 16,1709-10 
 
 " yo Isaac Bickersiaff, Esq., Censor of Great Britain. 
 
 " The humble petition of Job Chanticleer, in behalf of 
 himself, and many other poor sufferers in the same con- 
 dition ; 
 
 "Sheweth, 
 
 " nr^hat whereas your petitioner is truly descended of 
 ■^ the ancient family of the Chanticleers at Cock 
 Hall near Romford in Essex, it has been his misfortune to 
 come into the mercenary hands of a certain ill-disposed 
 person, commonly called a ' higgler,' who, under the close 
 confinement of a pannier, has conveyed him and many 
 others up to London ; but hearing by chance of your 
 worship's great humanity towards robin-redbreasts and 
 tom-tits,' he is emboldened to beseech you to take his 
 deplorable condition into your tender consideration, who 
 otherwise must suffer (with many thousands more as 
 innocent as himself) that inhumane barbarity of a Shrove 
 Tuesday persecution.^ We humbly hope that our courage 
 and vigilance may plead for us on this occasion. 
 
 " Your poor petitioner most earnestly implores your 
 immediate protection from the insolence of the rabble, 
 the batteries of catsticks,' and a painful lingering death. 
 
 " And your petitioner, &c. 
 
 "From my coup in Clare 
 Market, February 13, 1709." 
 
 Upon delivery of this petition, the worthy gentleman 
 who presented it, told me the customs of many wise 
 nations of the East, through which he had travelled ; that 
 
 ^ See No. nz. ^ See the date of this number. 
 
 ' Sticks used in the games of tip-cat and trap-ball. 
 no 
 
No. 134. February 16, 1709-10 'The Tat 16 f 
 
 nothing was more frequent than to see a dervish lay out a 
 whole year's income in the redemption of larks or linnets 
 that had unhappily fallen into the hands of bird-catchers : ' 
 that it was also usual to run between a dog and a bull to 
 keep them from hurting one another, or to lose the use of 
 a limb in parting a couple of furious mastiffs. He then 
 insisted upon the ingratitude and disingenuity ' of treating 
 in this manner a necessary and domestic animal, that has 
 made the whole house keep good hours, and called up the 
 cook maid for five years together. " What would a Turk 
 say," continued he, " should he hear, that it is a common 
 entertainment in a nation which pretends to be one of the 
 most civilised of Europe, to tie an innocent animal to a 
 stake, and put him to an ignominious death, who has 
 perhaps been the guardian and proveditor of a poor 
 family, as long as he was able to get eggs for his mis- 
 tress .? " 
 
 I thought what this gentleman said was very reasonable ; 
 and have often wondered, that we do not lay aside a 
 custom which makes us appear barbarous to nations much 
 more rude and unpolished than ourselves. Some French 
 writers have represented this diversion of the common 
 people much to our disadvantage, and imputed it to natural 
 fierceness and cruelty of temper ; as they do some other 
 entertainments peculiar to our nation : I mean those elegant 
 diversions of bull-baiting and prize-fighting, with the like 
 ingenious recreations of the bear-garden.' I wish I knew 
 how to answer this reproach which is cast upon us, and 
 excuse the death of so many innocent cocks, bulls, dogs, 
 and bears, as have been set together by the ears, or died 
 untimely deaths only to make us sport. 
 
 ' Cf. the Spectator, No. 343, where Addison refers to Sir Paul 
 Rycaut's work on the Ottoman Empire. 
 ' Disingenuousness. ' See Nos. 28, 31. 
 
 Ill 
 
The Tut 16 T No. 134. February 1 6, 1709-10 
 
 It will be said, that these are the entertainments of 
 common people. It is true ; but they are the entertain- 
 ments of no other common people.' Besides, I am afraid 
 there is a tincture of the same savage spirit in the diver- 
 sions of those of higher rank, and more refined relish. 
 Rapin observes, that the English theatre very much delights 
 in bloodshed, which he likewise represents as an indication 
 of our tempers. I must own, there is something very 
 horrid in the public executions of an English tragedy. 
 Stabbing and poisoning, which are performed behind the 
 
 ' "Cock-fighting is diverting enough, the anger and eagerness of 
 these little creatures, and the triumphant crowing of a cock when he 
 strutts haughtily on the body of his enemy, has something in't 
 singular and pleasant. What renders these shows less agreeable is the 
 great number of wagerers, who appear as angry as the cocks them- 
 selves, and make such a noise that one would believe every minute 
 they were going to fight ; but combats among the men are another 
 kind of diversion, where the spectators are more peaceable " ("Letters 
 describing the Character and Customs of the English and French 
 Nations ; by Mr. Muralt, a Gentleman of Switzerland, znd ed. ; 
 translated from the French." London, 1726, p. 41). In Hogarth's 
 picture of a cock-fight a Frenchman is depicted turning away in 
 disgust (see Lecky's " History of England in the Eighteenth Century," 
 1878, i. 552). "There will be a cock-match fought at Leeds in 
 Yorkshire, the 19th of March next ; and another at Wakefield the 
 23rd of April next. At each meeting 40 Cocks on each side will be 
 shewn. These are fought betwixt the people of the West and North 
 Riding of Yorkshire ; And every Battel 5/. each side, and 50/. the 
 odd Battel, and four Shake Bags for 10/. each Cock" (London Gazette, 
 March 8-12, 1687). A cock-match between Surrey and Sussex was 
 to commence on May 4, 1703, " and will continue the whole week" 
 (London Gazette, April 12-15, 1703) "The Royal Pastime of Cock- 
 fighting, or, the Art of Breeding, Feeding, Fighting and Curing Cocks 
 of the Game. Published purely for the good and benefit of all such 
 as take Delight in that Royal and Warlike Sport. To which is pre- 
 fixed, a Short Treatise, wherein Cocking is proved not only ancient and 
 honourable, but also useful and profitable. By R. H., a Lover of the 
 Sport, and a friend to such as delight in Military Discipline " (Post Boy, 
 Jan. 15-18, 1708-9). 
 
 112 
 
No. 134- February i6, 1709-10 'The 'TatlCT 
 
 scenes in other nations, must be done openly among us, to 
 gratify the audience.' 
 
 When poor Sandford ^ was upon the stage, I have seen 
 him groaning upon a wheel, stuck with daggers, impaled 
 alive, calling his executioners, with a dying voice, cruel 
 dogs and villains ! And all this to please his judicious 
 spectators, who were wonderfully delighted with seeing a 
 man in torment so well acted. The truth of it is, the 
 politeness of our English stage, in regard to decorum, is 
 very extraordinary. We act murders to show our in- 
 trepidity, and adulteries to show our gallantry : both of 
 them are frequent in our most taking plays, with this 
 difference only, that the first are done in sight of the 
 audience, and the other wrought up to such a height upon 
 the stage, that they are almost put in execution before 
 the actors can get behind the scenes. 
 
 I would not have it thought, that there is just ground 
 for those consequences which our enemies draw against us 
 from these practices ; but methinks one would be sorry 
 for any manner of occasion for such misrepresentations of 
 
 ^ Addison, also referring to Rapin, writes to the same effect in the 
 Spectator, No. 44. Rapin said, in his " Reflections on Aristotle's 
 Treatise of Poetry," translated in 1694: "The English, our neigh- 
 bours, love blood in their sports, by the quality of their temperament. 
 . . . The English have more of genius for tragedy than other people, 
 as well by the spirit of their nation, which delights in cruelty, as 
 also by the character of their language, which is proper for great 
 expressions." There is an " Address to the Cock-killers " in Lillie's 
 "Letters sent to the Tatler and Spectator" i. 25-29. 
 
 ^ Samuel Sandford seems to have left the stage about 1700. He 
 had a low and crooked person, and Gibber describes him as "an excellent 
 actor in disagreeable parts." Charles II. called him the best villain 
 in the world. There is a story of a new play being damned because 
 Sandford played the part of an honest statesman, and the pit was 
 therefore disappointed at not seeing the usual lago-like or Machiave- 
 lian character. 
 
 VOL. Ill, 113 H 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 135. February 18,1709-10 
 
 us. The virtues of tenderness, compassion and humanity, 
 are those by which men are distinguished from brutes, as 
 much as by reason itself ; and it would be the greatest 
 reproa,ch to a nation to distinguish itself from all others 
 by any defect in these particular virtues. For which 
 reasons, I hope that my dear countrymen will no longer 
 expose themselves by an effusion of blood, whether it be 
 of theatrical heroes, cocks, or any other innocent animals, 
 which we are not obliged to slaughter for our safety, 
 convenience, or nourishment. Where any of these ends 
 are not served in the destruction of a living creature, I 
 cannot but pronounce it a great piece of cruelty, if not a 
 kind of murder. 
 
 No. 135. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday y Feb. i6, to Saturday, Feb. i8, 1709-10. 
 
 Quod si in hoc erro, quod animos hominum immortales esse credam, 
 libenter erro : nee mihi hunc errorera, quo delector, dum vivo, 
 extorqueri volo : sin mortuus (ut quidam minuti philosophi 
 censent) nihil sentiam ; non vereor, ne hunc errorem meum 
 moTtui philosophi irrideant. — Cicero, De Sen., cap. ult. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 17. 
 
 Several letters which I have lately received give me 
 information, that some well-disposed persons have taken 
 offence at my using the word " freethinker " as a term of 
 reproach. To set therefore this matter in a clear light, I 
 must declare, that no one can have a greater veneration 
 than myself for the freethinkers of antiquity, who acted 
 the same part in those times, as the great men of the 
 Reformation did in several nations of Europe, by exerting 
 themselves against the idolatry and superstition of the 
 times in which they lived. It was by this noble impulse 
 
 11+ 
 
No. 135- February 1 8, 1709-10 'The TatleT 
 
 that Socrates and his disciples, as well as all the philosophers 
 of note in Greece, and Cicero, Seneca, with all the learned 
 men of Rome, endeavoured to enlighten their contempo- 
 raries amidst the darkness and ignorance in which the 
 world was then sunk and buried. The great points which 
 these freethinkers endeavoured to establish and inculcate 
 into the minds of men, were, the formation of the universe, 
 the superintendency of Providence, the perfection of the 
 divine nature, the immortality of the soul, and the future 
 state of rewards and punishments. They all complied 
 with the religion of their country, as much as possible, in 
 such particulars as did not contradict and pervert these 
 great and fundamental doctrines of mankind. On the 
 contrary, the persons who now set up for freethinkers, are 
 such as endeavour by a little trash of words and sophistry, 
 to weaken and destroy those very principles, for the 
 vindication of which, freedom of thought at first became 
 laudable and heroic' These apostates, from reason and 
 good sense, can look at the glorious frame of Nature, 
 without paying an adoration to Him that raised it ; can 
 consider the great revolutions in the universe, without 
 lifting up their minds to that Superior Power which hath 
 the direction of it ; can presume to censure the Deity in 
 His ways towards men ; can level mankind with the 
 beasts that perish ; can extinguish in their own minds all 
 the pleasing hopes of a future state, and lull themselves 
 into a stupid security against the terrors of it. If one 
 were to take the word " priestcraft " out of the mouths of 
 
 ' In speaking of Collins' "Discourse of Free-Thinking" (1713) in 
 the Guardian (No. 9), Steele says : " I cannot see any possible inter- 
 pretation to give this work, but a design to subvert and ridicule the 
 authority of scripture. The peace and tranquillity of the nation, and 
 regards even above those, are so much concerned in this matter, that 
 it is difficult to express sufficient sorrow for the offender, or indigna- 
 tion against him." 
 
 "5 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 135. February 18,1709-10 
 
 these shallow monsters, they would be immediately struck 
 dumb. It is by the help of this single term that they 
 endeavour to disappoint the good works of the most 
 learned and venerable order of men, and harden the 
 hearts of the ignorant against the very light of Nature, 
 and the common received notions of mankind. We ought 
 not to treat such miscreants as these upon the foot of fair 
 disputants, but to pour out contempt upon them, and 
 speak of them with scorn and infamy, as the pests of 
 society, the revilers of human nature, and the blasphemers 
 of a Being, whom a good man would rather die than hear 
 dishonoured. Cicero, after having mentioned the great 
 heroes of knowledge that recommended this divine 
 doctrine of the immortality of the soul, calls those small 
 pretenders to wisdom who declared against it, certain 
 minute philosophers,' using a diminutive even of the 
 word " little," to express the despicable opinion he had of 
 them. The contempt he throws upon them in another 
 passage " is yet more remarkable, where, to show the mean 
 thoughts he entertains of them, he declares, he would 
 rather be in the wrong with Plato, than in the right with 
 such company. There is indeed nothing in the world so 
 ridiculous as one of these grave philosophical freethinkers, 
 that hath neither passions nor appetites to gratify, no heats 
 of blood nor vigour of constitution that can turn his 
 systems of infidelity to his advantage, or raise pleasures 
 out of them which are inconsistent with the belief of a 
 hereafter. One that has neither wit, gallantry, mirth, nor 
 youth, to indulge by these notions, but only a poor, joy- 
 less, uncomfortable vanity of distinguishing himself from 
 the rest of mankind, is rather to be regarded as a mis- 
 
 ' See the motto at the head of this paper. 
 
 " "Tusc. Disp." i. 17. Cicero calls those who differ from Plato and 
 Socrates "plebii omnes philosophi" {ib, i. 23), 
 
 116 
 
No. 135- February 18,1709-10 'fhe T'atlef 
 
 chievous lunatic, than a mistaken philosopher, A chaste 
 infidel, a speculative libertine, is an animal that I should 
 not believe to be in Nature, did I not sometimes meet 
 with this species of men, that plead for the indulgence of 
 their passions in the midst of a severe studious life, and talk 
 against the immortality of the soul over a dish of cofFee. 
 
 I would fain ask a minute philosopher, what good he 
 proposes to mankind by the publishing of his doctrines ? 
 Will they make a man a better citizen, or father of a 
 family ; a more endearing husband, friend, or son ? Will 
 they enlarge his public or private virtues, or correct any of 
 his frailties or vices ? What is there either joyful or 
 glorious in such opinions ? Do they either refresh or 
 enlarge our thoughts ? Do they contribute to the happi- 
 ness, or raise the dignity of human nature ? The only 
 good that I have ever heard pretended to, is, that they 
 banish terrors, and set the mind at ease. But whose terrors 
 do they banish ? It is certain, if there were any strength 
 in their arguments, they would give great disturbance to 
 minds that are influenced by virtue, honour, and morality, 
 and take from us the only comforts and supports of afflic- 
 tion, sickness, and old age. The minds therefore which 
 they set at ease, are only those of impenitent criminals 
 and malefactors, and which, to the good of mankind, 
 should be in perpetual terror and alarm. 
 
 I must confess, nothing is more usual than for a free- 
 thinker, in proportion as the insolence of scepticism is 
 abated in him by years and knowledge, or humbled and 
 beaten down by sorrow or sickness, to reconcile himself to 
 the general conceptions of reasonable creatures ; so that 
 we frequently see the apostates turning from their revolt 
 toward the end of their lives, and employing the refuse of 
 their parts in promoting those truths which they had 
 before endeavoured to invalidate. 
 
 117 
 
ihe 'Tatler No. 135. February 18,1709-10 
 
 The history of a gentleman in France is very well 
 known, who was so zealous a promoter of infidelity, that 
 he had got together a select company of disciples, and 
 travelled into all parts of the kingdom to make converts. 
 In the midst of his fantastical success he fell sick, and was 
 reclaimed to such a sense of his condition, that after he 
 had passed some time in great agonies and horrors of 
 mind, he begged those who had the care of burying him, 
 to dress his body in the habit of a Capuchin, that the devil 
 might not run away with it ; and to do further justice 
 upon himself, desired them to tie a halter about his neck, 
 as a mark of that ignominious punishment, which in his 
 own thoughts he had so justly deserved. 
 
 I would not have persecution so far disgraced, as to 
 wish these vermin might be animadverted on by any legal 
 penalties ; though I think it would be highly reasonable, 
 that those few of them who die in the professions of their 
 infidelity, should have such tokens of infamy fixed upon 
 them, as might distinguish those bodies which are given 
 up by the owners to oblivion and putrefaction, from those 
 which rest in hope, and shall rise in glory. But at the 
 same time that I am against doing them the honour of the 
 notice of our laws, which ought not to suppose there are 
 such criminals in being, I have often wondered how they 
 can be tolerated in any mixed conversations while they are 
 venting these absurd opinions ; and should think, that if 
 on any such occasion half a dozen of the most robust 
 Christians in the company would lead one of these gentle- 
 men to a pump, or convey him into a blanket, they would 
 do very good service both to Church and State. I do not 
 know how the laws stand in this particular ; but I hope, 
 whatever knocks, bangs or thumps might be given vdth 
 such an honest intention, would not be construed as a 
 breach of the peace. I daresay they would not be returned 
 
 118 
 
No. 135- February 18,1709-10 'The TutUr 
 
 by the person who receives them ; for whatever these fools 
 may say in the vanity of their hearts, they are too wise to 
 risk their Hves upon the uncertainty of their opinions. 
 
 When I was a young man about this town, I frequented 
 the ordinary of the Black Horse, in Holborn, where the 
 person that usually presided at the table was a rough old- 
 fashioned gentleman, who, according to the custom of 
 those times, had been the major and preacher of a regi- 
 ment. It happened one day that a noisy young officer, 
 bred in France, was venting some new-fangled notions, 
 and speaking, in the gaiety of his humour, against the 
 ^dispensations of Providence. The major at first only 
 desired him to talk more respectfully of one for whom all 
 the company had an honour ; but finding him run on in 
 his extravagance, began to reprimand him after a more 
 serious manner, " Young man," said he, " do not abuse 
 your Benefactor whilst you are eating His bread. Con- 
 sider whose air you breathe, whose presence you are in, 
 and who it is that gave you the power of that very speech 
 which you make use of to His dishonour." The young 
 fellow, who thought to turn matters into a jest, asked 
 him if he was going to preach ; but at the same time 
 desired him to take care what he said when he spoke to a 
 man of honour. " A man of honour ? " says the major, 
 " thou art an infidel and a blasphemer, and I shall use thee 
 as such." In short, the quarrel ran so high, that the 
 major was desired to walk out. Upon their coming into 
 the garden, the old fellow advised his antagonist to consider 
 the place into which one pass might drive him ; but finding 
 him grow upon him to a degree of scurrility, as believing 
 the advice proceeded from fear ; "Sirrah," says he, " if a 
 thunderbolt does not strike thee dead before I come at thee, 
 I shall not fail to chastise thee for thy profaneness to thy 
 Maker, and thy sauciness to His servant." Upon this he 
 
 119 
 
The Tatler No, 136. February 21, 1709-10 
 
 drew his sword, and cried out with a loud voice, " The 
 sword of the Lord and of Gideon " ; which so terrified 
 his antagonist, that he was immediately disarmed, and 
 thrown upon his knees. In this posture he begged his 
 life ; but the major refused to grant it, before he had 
 asked pardon for his offence in a short extemporary 
 prayer which the old gentleman dictated to him upon the 
 spot, and which his proselyte repeated after him in the 
 presence of the whole ordinary, that were now gathered 
 about him in the garden. 
 
 No. 136. [Steele.' 
 
 From Saturday, Feb. i8, to 'Tuesday, Feb. 21, 1709-10. 
 
 Deprendi miserum est ; Fabio vel judice vincam. 
 
 HoR., I Sat. ii. 1 34. 
 
 White's Chocolate-house, February 18. 
 
 "The History ofTom Varnish. 
 
 Because I have a professed aversion to long beginnings 
 of stories, I will go into this at once, by telling you, 
 that there dwells near the Royal Exchange as happy a 
 couple as ever entered into wedlock. These live in that 
 mutual confidence of each other, which renders the satis- 
 factions of marriage even greater than those of friendship, 
 and makes wife and husband the dearest appellations of 
 human life. Mr. Ballance is a merchant of good consider- 
 ation, and understands the world not from speculation, but 
 practice. His wife is the daughter of an honest house, 
 ever bred in a family-way ; and has, from a natural good 
 
 1 Nichols suggests that this paper may be by Addison, and it is 
 certainly not unlikely that he was the author of the " History of Tom 
 Varnish." 
 
 120 
 
No. 136. February 21,1709-10 'The 'T'atlet* 
 
 understanding, and great innocence, a freedom which men 
 of sense know to be the certain sign of virtue, and fools 
 take to be an encouragement to vice. 
 
 Tom Varnish, a young gentleman of the Middle Temple, 
 by the bounty of a good father who was so obliging as to 
 die, and leave him in his twenty-fourth year, besides a 
 good estate, a large sum, which lay in the hands of Mr. 
 Ballance, had by this means an intimacy at his house ; and 
 being one of those hard students who read plays for 
 improvement in the law, took his rules of life from thence. 
 Upon mature deliberation, he conceived it very proper, 
 that he, as a man of wit and pleasure of the town, should 
 have an intrigue with his merchant's wife. He no sooner 
 thought of this adventure, but he began it by an amorous 
 epistle to the lady, and a faithful promise to wait upon 
 her, at a certain hour the next evening, when he knew her 
 husband was to be absent. 
 
 The letter was no sooner received, but it was com- 
 municated to the husband, and produced no other effect in 
 him, than that he joined with his wife to raise all the mirth 
 they could out of this fantastical piece of gallantry. They 
 were so little concerned at this dangerous man of mode, 
 that they plotted ways to perplex him without hurting 
 him. Varnish comes exactly at his hour ; and the lady's 
 well-acted confusion at his entrance, gave him opportunity 
 to repeat some couplets very fit for the occasion with very 
 much grace and spirit. His theatrical manner of making 
 love was interrupted by an alarm of the husband's coming ; 
 and the wife, in a personated terror, beseeched him, if he 
 had any value for the honour of a woman that loved him, 
 he would jump out of the window. He did so, and fell 
 upon feather-beds placed on purpose to receive him. 
 
 It is not to be conceived how great the joy of an 
 amorous man is when he has suffered for his mistress, and 
 
 IZI 
 
1 he ± at lev No. 136. February 21, 1709-10 
 
 is never the worse for it. Varnish the next day writ a 
 most elegant billet, wherein he said all that imagination 
 could form upon the occasion. He violently protested, 
 going out of the window was no way terrible, but as it 
 was going from her ; with several other kind expressions, 
 which procured him a second assignation. Upon his 
 second visit, he was conveyed by a faithful maid into her 
 bedchamber, and left there to expect the arrival of her 
 mistress. But the wench, according to her instructions, 
 ran in again to him, and locked the door after her to keep 
 out her master. She had just time enough to convey the 
 lover into a chest before she admitted the husband and his 
 wife into the room. 
 
 You may be sure that trunk was absolutely necessary to 
 be opened ; but upon her husband's ordering it, she 
 assured him, she had taken all the care imaginable in pack- 
 ing up the things with her own hand, and he might send 
 the trunk aboard as soon as he thought fit. The easy 
 husband believed his wife, and the good couple went to 
 bed ; Varnish having the happiness to pass the night in 
 his mistress's bedchamber without molestation. The morn- 
 ing arose, but our lover was not well situated to observe 
 her blushes ; so that all we know of his sentiments on this 
 occasion, is, that he- heard Ballance ask for the key, and 
 say, he would himself go with this chest, and have it 
 opened before the captain of the ship, for the greater safety 
 of so valuable a lading. 
 
 The goods were hoisted away, and Mr. Ballance march- 
 ing by his chest with great care and diligence, omitted 
 nothing that might give his passenger perplexity. But to 
 consummate all, he delivered the chest, with strict charge, 
 in case they were in danger of being taken, to throw it 
 overboard, for there were letters in it, the matter of which 
 might be of great service to the enemy. 
 
 122 
 
No. 136. February 21, 1709-10 ±06 jLCttlCf 
 
 N.B. It is not thought advisable to proceed further in 
 this account, Mr. Varnish being just returned from his 
 travels, and willing to conceal the occasion of his first 
 applying himself to the languages. 
 
 St. James's Coffee-house, February 20. 
 
 This day came in a mail from Holland, with a con- 
 firmation of our late advices, that a treaty of 
 peace would very suddenly be set on foot, and that yachts 
 were appointed by the States to convey the Ministers 
 of France from Moerdyk to Gertruydenburg, which is 
 appointed for the place wherein this important negotiation 
 is to be transacted. It is said, this affair has been in 
 agitation ever since the close of the last campaign ; Mon- 
 sieur Petticum having been appointed to receive from time 
 to time the overtures of the enemy. During the whole 
 winter, the Ministers of France have used their utmost 
 skill in forming such answers as might amuse the Allies, in 
 hopes of a favourable event ; either in the north, or some 
 Other part of Europe, which might affect some part of the 
 alliance too nearly to leave it in a capacity of adhering 
 firmly to the interest of the whole. In all this transaction, 
 the French king's own name has been as little made use of 
 as possible : but the season of the year advancing too 
 fast to admit of much longer delays in the present condi- 
 tion of France, Monsieur Torcy, in the name of the king, 
 sent a letter to Monsieur Petticum, wherein he says, that 
 " the king is willing all the preliminary articles shall rest 
 as they are during the treaty for the 37th." 
 
 Upon the receipt of this advice, passports were sent to 
 the French Court, and their Ministers are expected at 
 Moerdyk on the 5th of the next month. 
 
 123 
 
The Tatler No. 136. February 21, 1709-xo 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 20. 
 
 T have been earnestly solicited for a further term, foi* 
 -*■ wearing the farthingale by several of the fair sex, but 
 more especially by the following petitioners : 
 
 " The humble petition of Deborah Hark, SarahJThread- 
 paper and Rachael Thimble, spinsters, and single women, 
 commonly called Waiting-maids, in behalf of themselves 
 and their sisterhood ; 
 
 "Sheweth, 
 
 " 'Tphat your Worship hath been pleased to order and 
 J- command, that no person or persons shall pre- 
 sume to wear quilted petticoats, on forfeiture of the said 
 petticoats, or penalty of wearing ruffs, after the 1 7th instant 
 now expired. 
 
 " That your petitioners have time out of mind been 
 entitled to wear their ladies' clothes, or to sell the same. 
 
 " That the sale of the said clothes is spoiled by your 
 Worship's said prohibition. 
 
 "Your petitioners therefore most humbly pray, that 
 your Worship would please to allow, that all gentlewomen's 
 gentlewomen may be allowed to wear the said dress, or to 
 repair the loss of such a perquisite in such manner as your 
 Worship shall think fit. 
 
 " And your petitioners," &c. 
 
 I do allow the allegations of this petition to be just, and 
 forbid all persons but the petitioners, or those who shall 
 purchase from them, to wear the said garment after the 
 date hereof. 
 
 124 
 
No, 137- February 23, 1709-10 The Tatlef 
 
 No. 137. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Tuesday, Feb. 21, to 'Thursday, Feb. 23, 1709-10. 
 
 Ter centum tonat ore deos, Erebumque, Chaosque, 
 Tergeminamque Hecaten. — Virg., &a.. iv. J 10. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 22. 
 
 Dick Reptile and I sat this evening later than the 
 rest of the club ; and as some men are better com- 
 pany when only with one friend, others when there is a 
 large number, I found Dick to be of the former kind. 
 He was bewailing to me in very just terms, the offences 
 which he frequently met with in the abuse of speech : some 
 use ten times more words than they need, some put in 
 words quite foreign to their purpose, and others adorn 
 their discourses with oaths and blasphemies by way of 
 tropes and figures. What my good friend started, dwelt 
 upon me after I came home this evening, and led me into 
 an inquiry with myself, whence should arise such strange 
 excrescences in discourse ? Whereas it must be obvious 
 to all reasonable beings, that the sooner a man speaks his 
 mind, the more complaisant he is to the man with whom 
 he talks : but upon mature deliberation, I am come to this 
 resolution, that for one man who speaks to be understood, 
 there are ten who talk only to be admired. 
 
 The ancient Greeks had little independent syllables 
 called "expletives," which they brought into their discourses 
 both in verse and prose, for no other purpose but for the 
 better grace and sound of their sentences and periods. I 
 know no example but this which can authorise the use of 
 more words than are necessary. But whether it be from 
 this freedom taken by that wise nation, or however it; 
 
 125 
 
±he jTatleT' No. 137. February 23, 1709-10 
 
 arises, Dick Reptile hit upon a very just and common 
 cause of ofFence in the generality of the people of all orders. 
 We have one here in our lane who speaks nothing without 
 quoting an authority ; for it is always with him, so and 
 so, " as the man said." He asked me this morning, how I 
 did, " as the man said " ; and hoped I would come now and 
 then to see him, " as the man said." I am acquainted with 
 another, who never delivers himself upon any subject, but 
 he cries, he only speaks his " poor judgment " ; this is his 
 humble opinion ; or as for his part, if he might presume to 
 offer anything on that subject. But of all the persons 
 who add elegances and superfluities to their discourses, 
 those who deserve the foremost rank, are the swearers ; 
 and the lump of these may, I think, be very aptly divided 
 into the common distinction of high and low. Dulness 
 and barrenness of thought is the original of it in both 
 these sects, and they differ only in constitution : the low 
 is generally a phlegmatic, and the high a choleric coxcomb. 
 The man of phlegm is sensible of the emptiness of his 
 discourse, and will tell you, that " I'fackins," such a thing is 
 true : or if you warm him a little, he may run into passion, 
 and cry, " Odsbodikins," you do not say right. But the high 
 affects a sublimity in dulness, and invokes hell and damna- 
 tion at the breaking of a glass, or the slowness of a 
 drawer. 
 
 I was the other day trudging along Fleet Street on 
 foot, and an old army friend came up with me. We were 
 both going towards Westminster, and finding the streets 
 were so crowded that we could not keep together, we 
 resolved to club for a coach. This gentleman I knew to 
 be the first of the order of the choleric. I must confess 
 (were there no crime in it), nothing could be more divert- 
 ing than the impertinence of the high juror : for whether 
 there is remedy or not against what oirends him, still he is 
 
 126 
 
No. 137- February 23, 1709-10 The Tcitler 
 
 to show he is oiFended ; and he must sure not omit to be 
 magnificently passionate, by falling on all things in his 
 way. We were stopped by a train of coaches at Temple 
 Bar. " What the devil ! " says my companion, " cannot 
 
 you drive on, coachman } D n you all, for a set of 
 
 sons of whores, you will stop here to be paid by the 
 hour ! There is not such a set of confounded dogs as the 
 
 coachmen unhanged ! But these rascally Cits 'Ounds, 
 
 why should not there be a tax to make these dogs widen 
 their gates .? Oh ! but the hell-hounds move at last." 
 " Ay," said I, " I knew you would make them whip on if 
 once they heard you." " No," says he ; " but would it 
 not fret a man to the devil, to pay for being carried slower 
 than he can walk ? Lookee, there is for ever a stop at 
 this hole by St. Clement's Church. Blood, you dog ! — 
 
 Harkee, sirrah, — why, and be d d to you, do not you 
 
 drive over that fellow ? Thunder, furies, and damnation ! 
 I'll cut your ears off, you fellow before there. Come 
 hither, you dog you, and let me wring your neck round 
 your shoulders." We had a repetition of the same 
 eloquence at the Cockpit,' and the turning into Palace 
 Yard. 
 
 This gave me a perfect image of the insignificancy of 
 the creatures who practise this enormity ; and made me 
 conclude, that it is ever want of sense makes a man guilty 
 in this kind. It was excellently well said, that this folly 
 had no temptation to excuse it, no man being born of a 
 swearing constitution. In a word, a few rumbling words 
 and consonants clapped together, without any sense, will 
 make an accomplished swearer : and it is needless to dwell 
 long upon this blustering impertinence, which is already 
 
 1 A portion of Henry VIII.'s palace at Whitehall. When White- 
 hall was burned down in 1697, the Cockpit escaped, and was used a& 
 « Court for the Committee of the Privy Council. 
 
 127 
 
-» he ± dtlCT' No. 137. February 23, 1709-10 
 
 banished out of the society of well-bred men, and can be 
 useful only to bullies and ill tragic writers, who would 
 have sound and noise pass for courage and sense. 
 
 St. James's Coffee-house^ February 22. 
 
 There arrived a messenger last night from Harwich, 
 who left that place just as the Duke of Marlborough 
 was going on board. The character of this important 
 general going out by the command of his Queen, and at 
 the request of his country, puts me in mind of that noble 
 figure which Shakespeare gives Harry the Fifth upon his 
 expedition against France. The poet wishes for abilities 
 to represent so great a hero : 
 
 " Oh for a muse of fire .'" says he, 
 " Then should the warlike Harry, like himself. 
 Assume the fort of Mars ; and at his heels. 
 Leashed in, like hounds, should Famine, Sword and Fire 
 Crouch for employment^ ' 
 
 A conqueror drawn like the god of battle, with such a 
 dreadful leash of hell-hounds at his command, makes a 
 picture of as much majesty and terror as is to be met with 
 in any poet. 
 
 Shakespeare understood the force of this particular 
 allegory so well, that he had it in his thoughts in another 
 passage, which is altogether as daring and sublime as the 
 former. What I mean, is in the tragedy of "Julius Caesar," 
 where Antony, after having foretold the bloodshed and 
 ■destruction that should be brought upon the earth by the 
 death of that great man ; to fill up the horror of his 
 description, adds the following verses : 
 
 " And Ctssar^s spirit ranging for revenge, 
 With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell, 
 Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice. 
 Cry ^ Havoc'; and let slip the dogs of war."' 
 
 » " Henry the Fifth," Prologue. * "Julius Caesar," act iii. sc. i. 
 
 128 
 
No. 137. February 23, 1709-10 'The Tutler 
 
 I do not question but these quotations will call to mind 
 in my readers of learning and taste, that imaginary person 
 described by Virgil with the same spirit. He mentions it 
 upon the occasion of a peace which was restored to the 
 Roman Empire, and which we may now hope for from 
 the departure of that great man who has given occasion 
 to these reflections. "The Temple of Janus," says he, 
 " shall be shut, and in the midst of it Military Fury shall 
 sit upon a pile of broken arms, loaded with a hundred 
 chains, bellowing with madness, and grinding his teeth in 
 blood. 
 
 " Claudentur belli porta ; Furor impius intus, 
 Seeva sedens super arma, et centum vinctus ahenis 
 Post tergum nodis, fremit horridus ore cruento"'^ 
 
 '■'■Janus himself before his fane shall wait, 
 And keep the dreadful issues of his gate. 
 With bolts and iron bars. Within remains 
 Imprisoned Fury bound in brazen chains ; 
 High on a trophy raised of useless arms. 
 He sits, and threats the world with vain alarm s^^ 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The tickets which were delivered out for the benefit of 
 Signor Nicolini Grimaldi' on the 24th instant, will be 
 taken on Thursday the 2nd of March, his benefit being 
 deferred till that day. 
 
 N.B. In all operas for the future, where it thunders and 
 lightens in proper time and in tune, the matter of the said 
 lightning is to be of the finest resin ; and, for the sake of 
 harmony, the same which is used to the best Cremona 
 fiddles. 
 
 Note also, that the true perfumed lightning is only 
 prepared and sold by Mr. Charles Lillie, at the corner of 
 Beauford Buildings. 
 
 1 "-iEneid," i. 294. '' See Nos. 115, 142. 
 
 VOL. III. 129 I 
 
'The Tatler No. 138. February 25, 1709-10 
 
 The lady who has chosen Mr. Bickerstaff for her valen- 
 tine, and is at a loss what to present him with, is desired 
 to make him, with her own hands, a warm nightcap.' 
 
 No. 138. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, Feb. 23, to Saturday, Feb. 25, 1709-10. 
 
 Secretosque pios, his dantem jura Catonem. 
 
 ViRC, Mvi. viii. 670. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 24. 
 
 It is an argument of a clear and worthy spirit in a man, 
 to be able to disengage himself from the opinions of 
 others, so far as not to let the deference due to the sense 
 of mankind ensnare him to act against the dictates of his 
 own reason. But the generality of the world are so far 
 from walking by any such maxim, that it is almost a 
 standing rule to do as others do, or be ridiculous. I have 
 heard my old friend Mr. Hart^ speak it as an observation 
 among the players, that it is impossible to act with grace, 
 except the actor has forgot that he is before an audience. 
 Till he has arrived at that, his motion, his air, his every 
 step and gesture, has something in them which discovers 
 he is under a restraint for fear of being ill received ; or if 
 he considers himself as in the presence of those who 
 approve his behaviour, you see an affectation of that 
 pleasure run through his whole carriage. It is as common 
 in life, as upon the stage, to behold a man in the most 
 indifferent action betray a sense he has of doing what he 
 
 ' A description of the custom of drawing valentines, and of the 
 hope and fear shown on the faces of the drawers, who in their earnest- 
 ness gave to a scrap of paper the same effect as the person represented, 
 is to be found in Lillie's " Letters sent to the Tatler and Spectator " 
 (1725), i. 30. See No, 141. ' See No. 99. 
 
 130 
 
No. 138. February 25, 1709-10 'The Tatler 
 
 is about gracefully. Some have such an immoderate 
 relish for applause, that they expect it for things, which in 
 themselves are so frivolous, that it is impossible, without 
 this affectation, to make them appear worthy either of 
 blame or praise. There is Will Glare, so passionately 
 intent upon being admired, that when you see him in 
 public places, every muscle of his face discovers his 
 thoughts are fixed upon the consideration of what figure 
 he makes. He will often fall into a musing posture to 
 attract observation, and is then obtruding himself upon 
 the company when he pretends to be withdrawn from it. 
 Such little arts are the certain and infallible tokens of a 
 superficial mind, as the avoiding observation is the sign of 
 a great and sublime one. It is therefore extremely difficult 
 for a man to judge even of his own actions, without form- 
 ing to himself an idea of what he should act, were it in 
 his power to execute all his desires without the observation 
 of the rest of the world. There is an allegorical fable in 
 Plato,' which seems to admonish us, that we are very little 
 acquainted with ourselves, while we know our actions are 
 to pass the censures of others ; but had we the power to 
 accomplish all our wishes unobserved, we shoidd then 
 easily inform ourselves how far we are possessed of real 
 and intrinsic virtue. The fable I was going to mention, is 
 that of Gyges, who is said to have had an enchanted ring, 
 which had in it a miraculous quality, making him who 
 wore it visible or invisible, as he turned it to or from his 
 body. The use Gyges made of his. occasional invisibility, 
 was, by the advantage of it, to violate a queen, and murder 
 a king, TuUy takes notice of this allegory, and says very, 
 handsomely, tjfiat a man of honour who had such a ring, 
 would act just in the same manner as he would do without 
 it.* It is indeed no small pitch of virtue under the tempta- 
 
 1 " Republic," ii. 359, ^ "De Officiis," iii, 9. 
 
 131 
 
The Tat lev No. 138. February 25, 1709-10 
 
 tion of impunity, and the hopes of accomplishing all a 
 man desires, not to transgress the rules of justice and 
 virtue ; but this is rather not being an ill man, than being 
 positively a good one ; and it seems wonderful, that so 
 great a soul as that of TuUy, should not form to himself a 
 thousand worthy actions which a virtuous man would be 
 prompted to by the possession of such a secret. There 
 are certainly some part of mankind who are guardian 
 beings to the other. Sallust could say of Cato, " that he 
 had rather be than appear good " ; ' but indeed, this 
 eulogium rose no higher than (as I just now hinted) to 
 an inoiFensiveness, rather than an active virtue. Had it 
 occurred to the noble orator to represent, in his language, 
 the glorious pleasures of a man secretly employed in 
 beneficence and generosity, it would certainly have made a 
 more charming page than any he has now left behind him. 
 How might a man, furnished with Gyges' secret, employ 
 it in bringing i together distant friends, laying snares for 
 creating goodwill in the room of groundless hatred ; in 
 removing the pangs of an unjust jealousy, the shyness of 
 an imperfect reconciliation, and the tremor of an awful 
 love ! Such a one could give confidence to bashful merit, 
 and confusion to overbearing impudence. 
 
 Certain it is, that secret kindnesses done to mankind, 
 are as beautiful as secret injuries are detestable. To be 
 invisibly good, is as godlike, as to be invisibly ill, 
 diabolical. As degenerate as we are apt to say the age we 
 live in is, there are still amongst us men of illustrious 
 minds, who enjoy all the pleasures of good actions, except 
 that of being commended for them. There happens 
 among others very worthy instances of a public spirit, one 
 of which I am obliged to discover, because I know not 
 otherwise how to obey the commands of the Benefactor. 
 ' « Bell. Cat." ad fin. 
 132 
 
No. 138. February 25, 1709-10 T^ke 'Tatlcr 
 
 A citizen of London has given directions to Mr. Rayner, 
 the writing-master of Paul's School,' to educate at his 
 charge ten boys (who shall be nominated by me) in 
 writing and accounts, till they shall be fit for any trade. 
 I desire therefore such as know any proper objects for 
 receiving this bounty, to give notice thereof to Mr. Mor- 
 phew, or Mr. Lillie, and they shall, if properly qualified, 
 have instructions accordingly. 
 
 Actions of this kind have in them something so tran- 
 scendent, that it is an injury to applaud them, and a 
 diminution of that merit which consists in shunning our 
 approbation. We shall therefore leave them to enjoy 
 that glorious obscurity, and silently admire their virtue, 
 who can contemn the most delicious of human pleasures, 
 that of receiving due praise. Such celestial dispositions 
 very justly suspend the discovery of their benefactions, till 
 they come where their actions cannot be misinterpreted, 
 and receive their first congratulations in the company of 
 angels. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Whereas Mr. BickerstafF, by a letter bearing date this 
 24th of February, has received information, that there 
 are in and about the Royal Exchange a sort of persons 
 commonly known by the name of " whetters," ' who drink 
 
 ' " The Paul's scholar's copy-book, containing the round and round- 
 text hands, with alphabets at large of the Greek and Hebrew, and 
 joining-pieces of each. Embellished with proper ornaments of 
 command, of hand. By John Rayner, at the Hand and Pen, in 
 St. Paul's Churchyard, London. Published for the use of schools. 
 Sold by the author, and Jonathan Robinson, at the Golden Lion, in 
 St. Paul's Churchyard. Price u." (No. 135, Advertisement). Rayner's 
 book was dedicated to the Master and Wardens of the Mercers* 
 Company, and was reissued in 17 16 (W. Massey's 'Origin and 
 Progress of Letters," 1763, part ii. p. 120). 
 
 2 See No. 141. 
 
 133 
 
'T^he latler No. 138. February 25, 1709-10 
 
 themselves into an intermediate state of being neither 
 drunk nor sober before the hours of 'change, or business, 
 and in that condition buy and sell stocks, discount notes, 
 and do many other acts of well-disposed citizens ; this is 
 to give notice, that from this day forward, no whetter 
 shall be able to give or endorse any note, or execute any 
 other point of commerce, after the third half pint, before 
 the hour of one : and whoever shall transact any matter 
 or matters with a whetter (not being himself of that order) 
 shall be conducted to Moorfields ' upon the first applica- 
 tion of his next of kin. 
 
 N.B. No tavern near the 'Change shall deliver wine to 
 such as drink at the bar standing, except the same shall 
 be three parts of the best cider ; and the master of the 
 house shall produce a certificate of the same from Mr. 
 Tintoret,^ or other credible wine-painter. 
 
 Whereas the model of the intended Bedlam ' is now 
 finished, and that the edifice itself will be very suddenly 
 begun ; it is desired, that all such as have relations, whom 
 they would recommend to our care, would bring in their 
 proofs with all speed, none being to be admitted of course 
 but lovers, who are put into an immediate regimen. 
 Young politicians also are received without fees or exam- 
 ination. 
 
 ' Bedlam. ^ See No. 131. ^ See No. 125. 
 
 .134 
 
No. 139- February 28, 1709-10 ±h6 lUtlCr 
 
 No. 139. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, Feb. 25, to 'Tuesday, Feb. 28, 1709-10. 
 
 Nihil est, quod credere de se 
 
 Non possit, cum laudatur Dis aequa potestas. 
 
 Juv., Sat. iv. 70. 
 
 Sheer Lane, February 27. 
 
 When I reflect upon the many nights I have sat up for 
 some months last past in the greatest anxiety for 
 the good of my neighbours and contemporaries, it is no 
 small discouragement to me, to see how slow a progress I 
 make in the reformation of the world. But indeed I 
 must do my female readers the justice to own, that their 
 tender hearts are much more susceptible of good impres- 
 sions, than the minds of the other sex. Business and 
 ambition take up men's thoughts too much to leave room 
 for philosophy : but if you speak to women in a style and 
 manner proper to approach them, they never fail to 
 improve by your counsel. I shall therefore for the future 
 turn my thoughts more particularly to their service, and 
 study the best methods to adorn their persons, and inform 
 their minds in the justest methods to make them what 
 Nature designed them, the most beauteous objects of our 
 eyes, and the most agreeable companions of our lives. 
 But when I say this, I must not omit at the same time to 
 look into their errors and mistakes, that being the readiest 
 way to the intended end of adorning and instructing them. 
 It must be acknowledged, that the very inadvertencies of 
 this sex are owing to the other ; for if men were not 
 flatterers, women could not fall into that general cause of 
 all their follies, and our misfortunes, their love of flattery. 
 Wer« the commendation of these agreeable creatures built 
 
 13s 
 
±he Tatler No.^139. February 28, 1709-10 
 
 upon its proper foundation, the higher we raised their 
 opinion of themselves, the greater would be the advantage 
 to our sex ; but all the topic of praise is drawn from very 
 senseless and extravagant ideas we pretend we have of 
 their beauty and perfection. Thus when a young man 
 falls in love with a young woman, from that moment she 
 is no more Mrs, Alice such-a-one, born of such a father, 
 and educated by such a mother ; but from the first minute 
 that he casts his eye upon her with desire, he conceives a 
 doubt in his mind, what heavenly power gave so unexpected 
 a blow to a heart that was ever before untouched. But 
 who can resist Fate and Destiny, which are lodged in Mrs. 
 Alice's eyes } After which he desires orders accordingly, 
 whether he is to live or breathe ; the smile or frown of his 
 goddess is the only thing that can now either save or 
 destroy him. By this means, the well-humoured girl, that 
 would have romped with him before she received this 
 declaration, assumes a state suitable to the majesty he has 
 given her, and treats him as the vassal he calls himself. 
 The girl's head is immediately turned by having the power 
 of life and death, and takes care to suit every motion and 
 air to her new sovereignty. After he has placed himself 
 at this distance, he must never hope to recover his former 
 familiarity, till she has had the addresses of another, and 
 found them less sincere. 
 
 If the application to women were justly turned, the 
 address of flattery, though it implied at the same time 
 an admonition, would be much more likely to succeed. 
 Should a captivated lover, in a billet, let his mistress 
 know, that her piety to her parents, her gentleness of 
 behaviour, her prudent economy with respect to her own 
 little affairs in a virgin condition, had improved the 
 passion which her beauty had inspired him with, into so 
 settled an esteem for her, that of all women breathijig he 
 
 136 
 
No. 139- February 28, 1709-10 'T'he T'uthr 
 
 wished her his wife ; though his commending her for 
 qualities she knew she had as a virgin, would make her 
 believe he expected from her an answerable conduct in the 
 character of a matron, I will answer for it, his suit would 
 be carried on with less perplexity. 
 
 Instead of this, the generality of our young women, 
 taking all their notions of life from gay writings, or letters 
 of love, consider themselves as goddesses, nymphs, and 
 shepherdesses. 
 
 By this romantic sense of things, all the natural relations 
 and duties of life are forgotten, and our female part of 
 mankind are bred and treated, as if they were designed to 
 inhabit the happy fields of Arcadia, rather than be wives 
 and mothers in old England. It is indeed long since I 
 had the happiness to converse familiarly with this sex, 
 and therefore have been fearful of falling into the error 
 which recluse men are very subject to, that of giving false 
 representations of the world from which they have retired, 
 by imaginary schemes drawn from their own reflections. 
 An old man cannot easily gain admittance into the dressing- 
 room of ladies ; I therefore thought it time well spent, to 
 turn over Agrippa, and use all my occult art, to give my 
 old cornelian ring the same force with that of Gyges, 
 which I have lately spoken of.' By the help of this, I 
 went unobserved to a friend's house of mine, and followed 
 the chamber-maid invisibly about twelve of the clock into 
 the bed-chamber of the beauteous Flavia, his fine daughter, 
 just before she got up. 
 
 I drew the curtains, and being wrapped up in the safety 
 of my old age, could with much pleasure, without passion, 
 behold her sleeping with Waller's poems, and a letter 
 fixed in that part of him, where every woman thinks her- 
 self described. The light flashing upon her face, awakened 
 
 1 See No. 138. 
 137 
 
The 1 atler No. 139. February 28, 1709-10 
 
 her : she opened her eyes, and her lips too, repeating that 
 piece of false wit in that admired poet : 
 
 Such Helen was, and who can blame the boy. 
 That in so bright a flame consumed his Troy ?' 
 
 This she pronounced with a most bewitching sweetness ; 
 but after it fetched a sigh, that methought had more desire 
 than languishment, then took out her letter, and read 
 aloud, for the pleasure, I suppose, of hearing soft words in 
 praise of herself, the following epistle : 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 " T sat near you at the Opera last night ; but knew no 
 ■*• entertainment from the vain show and noise about 
 me, while I waited wholly intent upon the motion of your 
 bright eyes, in hopes of a glance, that might restore me to 
 the pleasures of sight and hearing in the midst of beauty 
 and harmony. It is said, the hell of the accursed in the 
 next life arises from an incapacity to partake the joys of 
 the blessed, though they were to be admitted to them. 
 Such I am sure was my condition all this evening ; and if 
 you, my deity, cannot have so much mercy as to make 
 me by your influence capable of tasting the satisfactions of 
 life, my being is ended, which consisted only in your 
 favour." 
 
 The letter was hardly read over, when she rushed out 
 of bed In her wrapping-gown, and consulted her glass for 
 the truth of his passion. She raised her head, and turned 
 it to a profile, repeating the last lines, " my being is ended, 
 which consisted only in your favour." The goddess 
 immediately called her maid, and fell to dressing that 
 
 ' " Under a Lady's Picture " (Waller's Poems : " Epigrams, 
 Epitaphs," &c.). 
 
 138 
 
No. 139- February 28, 1709-10 I'.he I'dtler 
 
 mischievous face of hers, without any manner of considera- 
 tion for the mortal who had offered up his petition. 
 Nay, it was so far otherwise, that the whole time of her 
 woman's; combing her hair was spent in discourse of the 
 impertinence of his. passion, and ended, in declaring a 
 resolution, if she ever had him, to make him wait. She 
 also frankly told the favourite gipsy that was prating to 
 her, that her passionate lover had put it out of her power 
 to be civil to him, if she were inclined to it ; " for," said 
 she, " if I am thus celestial to my lover, he will certainly 
 So far think himself disappointed, as I grow into the 
 familiarity and form of a mortal woman." 
 
 I came away as I went in, without staying for other 
 remarks than what confirmed me in the opinion, that it is 
 from the notions the men inspire them with, that the 
 women are so fantastical in the value of themselves. This 
 imaginary pre-eminence which is given to the fair sex, is 
 not only formed from the addresses of people of condition ; 
 but it is the fashion and humour of all orders to go 
 regularly out of their wits, as soon as they begin to make 
 love. I know at this time three goddesses in the New 
 Exchange ; ' and there are two shepherdesses who sell 
 gloves in Westminster HalL' 
 
 ^ See No. 26. 
 
 ' See No. 145. Part of Westminster Hall was devoted to shop- 
 keepers' stalls, where toys, books, &c., could be brought. Tom 
 Brown ("Amusements," &c. 1700) says: "On your left hand you 
 hear a nimble-tongued painted sempstress with her charming treble - 
 invite you to buy some of her knick-knacks, and on your right a deep- 
 mouthed crier, commanding impossibilities, viz., silence to be kept 
 among women and lawyers." 
 
 139 
 
'The Tatler No. 140. March 2, 1709-10 
 
 No. 140. [Steele. 
 
 From "Tuesday, Feb. 28, to 'Thursday, March 2, 1709-10. 
 Aliena negotia centum 
 
 Per caput, et circa saliunt latus — 
 
 HoR., z Sat. vi. 33. 
 
 Sheer Lane, March i. 
 TTaving the honour to be by my great-grandmother a 
 A A Welshman, I have been among some choice spirits 
 of that part of Great Britain, where we solaced ourselves 
 in celebration of the day of St. David I am, I confess, 
 elevated above that state of mind which is proper for 
 lucubration : but I am the less concerned at this, because 
 I have for this day or two last past observed, that we 
 novelists have been condemned wholly to the pastry- 
 cooks, the eyes of the nation being turned upon greater 
 matters.* This therefore being a time when none but my 
 immediate correspondents will read me, I shall speak to 
 them chiefly at this present writing. It is the fate of us 
 who pretend to joke, to be frequently understood to be 
 only upon the droll when we are speaking the most 
 seriously, as appears by the following letter to Charles 
 LiUie : 
 
 "Mr. Lillie, "London, Ff^ra^ry 28, i7fg-. 
 
 " Tt being professed by 'Squire BickerstafF, that his 
 
 -^ intention is to expose the vices and follies of the 
 
 age, and to promote virtue and goodwill amongst man- 
 
 ' The trial of Dr. Sacheverell, which extended from February 27 
 to March 23, 1710. A Tory pamphlet, "A Letter to the Rev. Dr. 
 Henry Sacheverell, by Isaac Bickerstafij Esq.," 1709, appeared in 
 
 140 
 
No. I40. March 2, 1709-10 I'he 'TatUr 
 
 kind ; it must be a comfort, to a person labouring under 
 great straits and difficulties, to read anything that has the 
 appearance of succour. I should be glad to know there- 
 fore, whether the intelligence given in his Tatler of Saturday 
 last,' of the intended charity of a certain citizen of London, 
 to maintain the education of ten boys in writing and 
 accounts till they be fit for trade, be given only to 
 encourage and recommend persons to the practice of such 
 noble and charitable designs, or whether there be a person 
 who really intends to do so. If the latter, I humbly beg 
 Squire BickerstafFs pardon for making a doubt, and 
 impute it to my ignorance ; and most humbly crave, that 
 he would be pleased to give notice in his Trailer, when he 
 thinks fit, whether his nomination of ten boys be disposed 
 of, or whether there be room for two boys to be recom- 
 mended to him ; and that he will permit the writer of this 
 to present him with two boys, who, it is humbly pre- 
 sumed, will be judged to be very remarkable objects of 
 such charity. 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble Servant." 
 
 I am to tell this gentleman in sober sadness, and without 
 jest, that there really is so good and charitable a man as 
 the benefactor inquired for in his letter, and that there are 
 but two boys yet named. The father of one of them was 
 killed at Blenheim, the father of the other at Almanza. I 
 do not here give the names of the children, because I 
 should take it to be an insolence in me to publish them, in 
 a charity which I have only the direction of as a servant, 
 
 January 1 7 10. Another pamphlet was called "The Character of 
 Don Sacheverello, Knight of the Firebrand, in a Letter to Isaac 
 Bickerstaff, Esq., Censor of Great Britain." 
 ' See No. 138. 
 
 141 
 
T'he Trailer No. 140. March 2, 1709-10 
 
 to that worthy and generous spirit who biestows upon 
 them this bounty, without laying the bondage of an obli- 
 gation. What I have to do is to tell them, they are 
 beholden only to their Maker, to kill in them as they 
 grow up the false shame of poverty, and let them know, 
 that their present fortune, which is come upon them by 
 the loss of their poor fathers on so glorious occasions, is 
 much more honourable, than the inheritance of the most 
 ample ill-gotten wealth. 
 
 The next letter which lies before me is from a man of 
 sense, who strengthens his own authority with that of 
 TuUy, in persuading me to what he very justly believes 
 one cannot be averse : 
 
 " Mr. BicKERSTAFF, "London, Ff^. 27, 1709. 
 
 " T am so confident of your inclination to promote any- 
 -^ thing that is for the advancement of liberal arts, that 
 I lay before you the following translation of a paragraph 
 in Cicero's oration in defence of Archias the poet, as an 
 incentive to the agreeable and instructive reading of the 
 writings of the Augustan age. Most vices and follies 
 proceed from a man's incapacity of entertaining himself, 
 and we are generally fools in company, because we dare 
 not be wise alone. I hope, on some future occasions, you 
 wiU find this no barren hint. TuUy, after having said 
 very handsome things of his client, commends the arts of 
 which he was master as follows : 
 
 " ' If so much profit be not reaped in the study of 
 letters, and if pleasure ordy be found ; yet, in my opinion, 
 this relaxation of the mind should be esteemed most 
 humane and ingenuous. Other things are not for all ages, 
 places and seasons. These studies form youth, delight 
 old age, adorn prosperity, and soften, and even remove 
 adversity, entertain at home, are no hindrance abroad ; 
 
 142 
 
No. 140. March 2, 1709-10 '^The I'atler 
 
 don't leave us at night, and keep us company on the road 
 and in the country.' I am, 
 
 " Your humble Servant, 
 
 " Strephon." 
 
 The following epistle seems to want the quickest 
 despatch, because a lady is every moment offended till it is 
 answered ; which is best done by letting the offender see 
 in her own letter how tender she is of calling him so : 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " ' I ''his comes from a relation of yours, though un- 
 -■■ known to you, who, besides the tie of consan- 
 guinity, has some value for you on the account of your 
 lucubrations, those being designed to refine our conversa- 
 tion, as well as cultivate our minds. I humbly beg the 
 favour of you, in one of your Tatlers (after what manner 
 you please), to correct a particular friend of mine, for an 
 indecorum he is guilty of in discourse, of calling his 
 acquaintance, when he speaks of them, ' Madam ' : as for 
 example, my cousin Jenny Distaff, ' Madam Distaff' ; 
 which I am sure you are sensible is very unpolite, and 'tis 
 what makes me often uneasy for him, though I cannot tell 
 him of it myself, which makes me guUty of this presump- 
 tion, that I depend upon your goodness to excuse ; and I 
 do assure you, the gentleman will mind your reprehension, 
 for he is, as I am, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble 
 " Servant and Cousin, 
 
 " Dorothy Drumstick. 
 
 *' I write this in a thin under-petticoat,' and never did or 
 will wear a farthingale." 
 
 1 See No. 136. 
 1+3 
 
'The Tatler No. 140. March 2, 1709-10 
 
 I had no sooner read the just complaint of Mrs. 
 Drumstick, but I received an urgent one from another of 
 the fair sex, upon faults of more pernicious consequence : 
 
 " MJR. BiCKERSTAFF, 
 
 " /^bserving that you are entered into a correspondence 
 ^^ with Pasquin,! who is, I suppose, a Roman 
 Catholic, I beg of you to forbear giving him any account 
 of our religion, or manners, till you have rooted out 
 certain misbehaviours even in our churches ; among 
 others, that of bowing, saluting, taking snufF, and other 
 gestures. Lady Autumn made me a very low curtsy the 
 other day from the next pew, and, with the most courtly 
 air imaginable, called herself ' Miserable sinner.' Her niece 
 soon after, in saying, ' Forgive us our trespasses,' curtsied 
 with a gloating look at my brother. He returned it, 
 opening his snufF-box and repeating yet a more solemn 
 expression. I beg of you, good Mr. Censor, not to tell 
 Pasquin anything of this kind, and to believe this does 
 not come from one of a morose temper, mean birth, 
 rigid education, narrow fortune, or bigotry in opinion, or 
 from one in whom Time had worn out all taste of pleasure, 
 I assure you, it is far otherwise, for I am possessed of all 
 the contrary advantages ; and hope, wealth, good humour, 
 and good breeding, may be best employed in the service 
 of religion and virtue ; and desire you would, as soon as 
 possible, remark upon the above-mentioned indecorums, 
 that we may not longer transgress against the latter, to 
 preserve our reputation in the former. 
 
 " Your humble Servant, 
 
 "Lydia." 
 
 1 See No. 129. 
 H4 
 
No. 141. March 4, 1709-10 'ike I'dtler 
 
 The last letter I shall insert is what follows. This is 
 written by a very inquisitive lady ; and I think, such 
 interrogative gentlewomen are to be answered no other 
 way than by interrogation. Her billet is this : 
 
 "Dear Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " Are you quite as good as you seem to be } 
 
 " Chloe." 
 
 To which I can only answer : 
 
 " Dear Chloe, 
 
 " Are you quite as ignorant as you seem to be ? 
 
 « I. B." 
 
 No. 141. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Thursday, March 2, to Saturday, March 4, 1709-10. 
 
 Sheer Lane, March 3. 
 
 While the attention of the town is drawn aside from 
 the reading us writers of news, we all save our- 
 selves against it is at more leisure. As for my own part, 
 I shall still let the labouring oar be managed by my cor- 
 respondents, and fill my paper with their sentiments, rather 
 than my own, till I find my readers more disengaged than 
 they are at present.' When I came home this evening, I 
 found several letters and petitions, which I shall insert with 
 no other order, than as I accidentally opened them, as 
 follows : 
 
 1 The whole attention of the town in March 17 10 was devoted to 
 the Sacheverell trial. See Nos. 140, 142, 157. 
 
 VOL. III. 14S *■ 
 
'T'he Tatler No. 141. March 4, 1709-10 
 
 "Sir, "March i, 17^. 
 
 " TJaving a daughter about nine years of age, I would 
 •'- ■*■ endeavour she might have education ; I mean such 
 as may be useful, as working well, and a good deportment. 
 In order to it, I am persuaded to place her at some 
 boarding-school, situate in a good air. My wife opposes 
 it, and gives for her greatest reason, that she is too much 
 a woman, and understands the formalities of visiting and 
 a tea-table so very nicely, that none, though much older, 
 can exceed her ; and with all these perfections, the girl 
 can scarce thread a needle : but however, after several 
 arguments, we have agreed to be decided by your judg- 
 ment ; and knowing your abilities, shall manage our 
 daughter exactly as you shall please to direct. I am 
 serious in my request, and hope you will be so in your 
 answer, which will lay a deep obligation upon, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your humble Servant, 
 
 " T T 
 
 "Sir, pray answer it in your Tatler, that it may be 
 serviceable to the public." 
 
 I am as serious on this subject as my correspondent can 
 be, and am of opinion, that the great happiness or mis- 
 fortune of mankind depends upon the manner of educating 
 and treating that sex. I have lately said, I design to turn 
 my thoughts more particularly to them and their service : 
 I beg therefore a little time to give my opinion on so 
 important a subject, and desire the young lady may fill tea 
 one week longer, till I have considered whether she shall be 
 removed or not.' 
 
 ' See No. 145. 
 146 
 
No. 141. March 4, 1709-10 l' k 6 T'atler 
 
 "Chancery Lane, February 27, 1709. 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " "VTour notice in the advertisement in your Tatkr of 
 ■^ Saturday last' about 'whetters' in and about the 
 Royal Exchange, is mightily taken notice of by gentlemen 
 who use the coiFee-houses near the Chancery office in 
 Chancery Lane ; and there being a particular certain set 
 of both young and old gentlemen that belong to and near 
 adjoining to the Chancery office, both in Chancery Lane 
 and Bell Yard, that are not only ' whetters ' all the morning 
 long, but very musically given about twelve at night the 
 same days, and mightily taken with the union of the dul- 
 cimer, violin, and song ; at which recreation they rejoice 
 together with perfect harmony, however their clients dis- 
 agree : you are humbly desired by several gentlemen to 
 give some regulation concerning them ; in which you will 
 contribute to the repose of us, who are 
 
 " Your very humble Servants, 
 
 " L. T., N. F., T. W." 
 
 These " whetters "are a people I have considered with 
 much pains, and find them to differ from a sect I have 
 heretofore spoken of, called " snufF-takers," ' only in the 
 expedition they take in destroying their brains : the 
 " whetter " is obliged to refresh himself every moment with 
 a liquor, as the " snuff-taker " with a powder. As for their 
 harmony in the evening, I have nothing to object, pro- 
 vided they remove to Wapping or the Bridge-Foot,' where 
 
 > See No. 138. _ _ " See No. 35. 
 
 ' The foot of 
 .;ventecnth cei 
 London Bridge. 
 
 > See No. 138. " See No. 35. 
 
 ' The foot of London Bridge. There was a tavern, famous in the 
 seventeenth century, called " The Bear at the Bridge-foot," below 
 
 1+7 
 
'The Tatler No. 141. March 4, 1709-10 
 
 it is not to be supposed that their vociferations will annoy 
 the studious, the busy, or the contemplative. I once had 
 lodgings in Gray's Inn, where we had two hard students, 
 who learned to play upon the hautboy ; and I had a 
 couple of chamber fellows over my head not less dili- 
 gent in the practice of backsword and single-rapier. I 
 remember these gentlemen were assigned by the benchers 
 the two houses at the end of the Terrace Walk, as the only 
 places fit for their meditations. Such students as will let 
 none improve but themselves, ought indeed to have their 
 proper distances from societies. 
 
 The gentlemen of loud mirth above mentioned I take 
 to be, in the quality of their crime, the same as eaves- 
 droppers ; for they who will be in your company whether 
 you will or no, are to as great a degree offenders, as they 
 who hearken to what passes without being of your com- 
 pany at all. The ancient punishment for the latter, when 
 I first came to this town, was the blanket, which I humbly 
 conceive may be as justly applied to him that bawls, as to 
 him that listens. It is therefore provided for the future, 
 that (except in the Long Vacation) no retainers to the 
 law, with dulcimer, violin, or any other instrument, in 
 any tavern within a furlong of an inn of court, shall sing 
 any tune, or pretended tune whatsoever, upon pain of the 
 blanket, to be administered according to the discretion of 
 all such peaceable people as shall be within the annoyance. 
 And it is further directed, that all clerks who shall offend 
 in this kind shall forfeit their indentures, and be turned 
 over as assistants to the clerks of parishes within the bills 
 of mortality, who are hereby empowered to demand them 
 accordingly. 
 
 I am not to omit the receipt of the following letter, 
 
 with a nightcap, from my valentine ;' which nightcap I find 
 
 ' See No. 137. 
 148 
 
No. 141. March 4, 1709-10 T' k 6 I'atler 
 
 was finished in the year 1588, and is too finely wrought to 
 be of any modern stitching. Its antiquity will better 
 appear by my valentine's own words : 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " C ince you are pleased to accept of so mean a present as 
 '^ a nightcap from your valentine, I have sent you one, 
 which I do assure you has been very much esteemed of in 
 our family ; for my great-grandmother's daughter who 
 worked it, was maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth, and 
 had the misfortune to lose her life by pricking her finger 
 in the making of it, of which she bled to death, as her 
 tomb now at Westminster will show : for which reason, 
 myself, nor none of my family, have loved work ever 
 since ; otherwise you should have had one as you desired, 
 made by the hands of, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your aflfectionate 
 
 ''Valentine." 
 
 " To the Right Worshipful Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., Censor 
 of Great Britain, and Governor of the Hospital erected, or to 
 be erected, in Moorfields. 
 
 " The petition of the inhabitants of the parish of Goatham 
 in the county of Middlesex ; 
 
 "Humbly Sheweth, 
 
 " '"T^hat whereas 'tis the undoubted right of your said 
 -»• petitioners to repair on every Lord's Day to a 
 chapel of ease in the said parish, there to be instructed in 
 their duties in the known or vulgar tongue ; yet so it is 
 (may it please your Worship) that the preacher of the said 
 chapel has of late given himself wholly up to matters of 
 
 149 
 
'T'he latler No. 142. March 7, 1709-10 
 
 controversy, in no wise tending to the edification of your 
 said petitioners ; and in handling (as he calls it) the same, 
 has used divers hard and crabbed words ; such as, among 
 many others, are ' orthodox' and ' heterodox,' which are in 
 no sort understood by your said petitioners ; and it is with 
 grief of heart that your petitioners beg leave to represent 
 to you, that in mentioning the aforesaid words or names 
 (the latter of which, as we have reason to believe, is his 
 deadly enemy), he wiU fall into ravings and foamings, ill- 
 becoming the meekness of his office, and tending to give 
 oiFence and scandal to all good people. 
 
 " Your petitioners further say, that they are ready to 
 prove the aforesaid allegations ; and therefore humbly 
 hope, that from a true sense of their condition, you will 
 please to receive the said preacher into the hospital, until 
 he shall recover a right use of his senses. 
 
 " And your petitioners," &c. 
 
 No. 142. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday^ March 4, to 'Tuesday, March 7, 1709-10. 
 
 Sheer Lane, March 6. 
 
 All persons who employ themselves in public, are still 
 interrupted in the course of their affairs : and it 
 seems, the admired Cavalier Nicolini himself is commanded 
 by the ladies, who at present employ their time with great 
 assiduity in the care of the nation, to put off his day till 
 he shall receive their commands, and notice that they are 
 at leisure for diversions.' In the meantime it is not to 
 
 ' See No. 137. In No, 140 there was the following advertisement: 
 "At the request of all the ladies of quality, who are at present 
 engaged in politics, the benefit night for Cavalier Nicolini is put off 
 to Tuesday the 7th instant." 
 
 ISO 
 
No. 142. March 7, 1709-10 I'he T'utler 
 
 be expressed, how many cold chickens the fair ones have 
 eaten since this day sennight for the good of their country. 
 This great occasion has given birth to many discoveries of 
 high moment for the conduct of life. There is a toast 
 of my acquaintance told me, she had now found out, that 
 it was day before nine in the morning ; ' and I am very 
 confident, if the affair holds many days longer, the ancient 
 hours of eating will be revived among us, many having 
 by it been made acquainted with the luxury of hunger and 
 thirst. 
 
 There appears, methinks, something very venerable in 
 all assemblies : and I must confess, I envied aU who had 
 youth and health enough to make their appearance there, 
 that they had the happiness of being a whole day in the 
 best company in the world. During the adjournment of 
 that awful court, a neighbour of mine was telling me, that 
 it gave him a notion of the ancient grandeur of the English 
 hospitality, to see Westminster Hall a dining-room." There 
 is a cheerfulness at such repasts, which is very delightful 
 to tempers which are so happy as to be clear of spleen 
 and vapour ; for to the jovial to see others pleased, is the 
 greatest of all pleasures. 
 
 But since age and infirmities forbid my appearance at 
 such public places, the next happiness is to make the best 
 use of privacy, and acquit myself of the demands of my 
 correspondents. The following letter is what has given 
 me no small inquietude, it being an accusation of partiality, 
 and disregard to merit, in the person of a virtuoso, who 
 is the most eloquent of all men upon small occasions, and 
 is the more to be admired for his prodigious fertility of 
 
 ' Cf. "Weiitworth Papers," p. 113. " Sacheverell will make all 
 the Ladys good huswis, they goe att seven every mornin'," says Lady 
 Wentworth. 
 
 * The spectators brought their lunch with them. 
 
 151 
 
ihe 'Tatler No. 142. March 7, 1709-10 
 
 invention, which never appears but upon subjects which 
 others would have thought barren. But in consideration 
 of his uncommon talents, I am contented to let him be the 
 hero of my next two days, by inserting his friends' recom- 
 mendation of him at large : 
 
 "Dear Cousin, " Nando V -fi?^- 28, 1709. 
 
 " T am just come out of the country, and upon perusing 
 
 *- your late Lucubrations, I find Charles Lillie to be 
 the darling of your affections, that you have given him a 
 place, and taken no small pains to establish him in the 
 world ; and at the same time have passed by his namesake' 
 at this end of the town, as if he was a citizen defunct, 
 and one of no use in a commonwealth. I must own, his 
 circumstances are so good, and so well known, that he 
 does not stand in need of having his fame published to 
 the world ; but being of an ambitious spirit, and an 
 aspiring soul, he would be rather proud of the honour, 
 than desirous of the profit, which might result from your 
 recommendation. He is a person of a particular genius, 
 the first that brought toys in fashion, and baubles to per- 
 fection. He is admirably well versed in screws, springs, 
 and hinges, and deeply read in knives, combs or scissors, 
 buttons or buckles. He is a perfect master of words, 
 which, uttered with a smooth voluble tongue, flow into a 
 most persuasive eloquence ; insomuch that I have known 
 a gentleman of distinction find several ingenious faults 
 with a toy of his, and show his utmost dislike to it, as 
 being either useless, or ill-contrived ; but when the orator 
 behind the counter had harangued upon it for an hour and 
 a half, displayed its hidden beauties, and revealed its secret 
 
 ' A cofFee-house in Fleet Street, at the east corner of Inner Temple 
 Lane. 
 
 ' Charles Mather, the toyman (see Nos. 27, 1 1 3). 
 
 >52 
 
No. 142. March 7, 1709-10 'The Tathr 
 
 perfections, he has wondered how he had been able to 
 spend so great a part of his life without so important an 
 utensil. I won't pretend to furnish out an inventory of 
 all the valuable commodities that are to be found at his 
 shop. 
 
 " I shall content myself with giving an account of what 
 I think most curious. Imprimis, his pocket-books are very 
 neat, and well contrived, not for keeping bank bills or 
 goldsmiths' notes,' I confess ; but they are admirable for 
 registering the lodgings of Madonnas, and for preserving 
 letters from ladies of quality : his whips and spurs are so 
 nice, that they'll make one that buys them ride a fox- 
 hunting, though before he hated noise and early rising, 
 and was afraid of breaking his neck. His seals are 
 curiously fancied, and exquisitely well cut, and of great 
 use to encourage young gentlemen to write a good hand. 
 Ned Puzzlepost had been ill-used by his writing-master, 
 and writ a sort of a Chinese, or downright scrawlian : 
 however, upon his buying a seal of my friend, he is so 
 much improved by continual writing, that it is believed in 
 a short time one may be able to read his letters, and find 
 out his meaning, without guessing. His pistols and fusees 
 are so very good, that they are fit to be laid up among the 
 finest china. Then his tweezer-cases are incomparable : 
 you shall have one not much bigger than your finger, with 
 seventeen several instruments in it, all necessary every 
 hour of the day, during the whole course of a man's life. 
 But if this virtuoso excels in one thing more than another, 
 it is in canes ; he has spent his most select hours in the 
 knowledge of them, and is arrived at that perfection, that 
 he is able to hold forth upon canes longer than upon any 
 
 ' Goldsmiths' receipts for coin lodged with them as bankers were 
 sometimes transferred from hand to hand, but this was always limited 
 to a few merchants. 
 
 153 
 
'T'he Tatler No. 142. March 7, 1709-10 
 
 one subject in the world. Indeed his canes are so finely 
 clouded, and so well made up, either with gold or amber 
 heads, that I am of the opinion it is impossible for a 
 gentleman to walk, talk, sit or stand as he should do, 
 without one of them. He knows the value of a cane, by 
 knowing the value of the buyer's estate. Sir Timothy 
 Shallow has two thousand pounds per annum, and Tom 
 Empty one. They both at several times bought a cane 
 of Charles : Sir Timothy's cost ten guineas, and Tom 
 Empty's five. Upon comparing them, they were perfectly 
 alike. Sir Timothy surprised there should be no differ- 
 ence in the canes, and so much in the price, comes to 
 Charles. ' Damn it, Charles,' says he, ' you have sold me a 
 cane here for ten pieces, and the very same to Tom Empty 
 for five.' ' Lord, Sir Timothy,' says Charles, ' I am con- 
 cerned that you, whom I took to understand canes better 
 than any baronet in town, should be so overseen ; ' why. 
 Sir Timothy, yours is a true jambee, and Squire Empty's 
 only a plain dragon.'' 
 
 " This virtuoso has a parcel of jambeesnow growing in 
 the East Indies, where he keeps a man on purpose to look 
 after them, which will be the finest that ever landed in 
 Great Britain, and will be fit to cut about two years hence. 
 Any gentleman may subscribe for as many as he pleases. 
 Subscriptions wUl be taken in at his shop at ten guineas 
 each joint. They that subscribe for six, shall have a 
 dragon gratis. This is all I have to say at present concern- 
 ing Charles' curiosities ; and hope it may be sufficient to 
 
 ^ Deceived. 
 
 ' A dragon is a small malacca cane, so called from its blood-red 
 colour. It comes from Penang, Singapore, and other islands in the 
 Straits of Malacca. A jambee, on the contrary, is a knotty bamboo 
 of a pale brown hue. As an article of commerce it is now extinct. 
 The " clouded cane " of Sir Plume was a large malacca artificially 
 coloured (Dobson). 
 
 154 
 
No. 143- March 9, 1709-1° 'The Tuthr 
 
 prevail with you to take him into your consideration, which 
 if you comply with, you will oblige, 
 
 " Your humble Servant. 
 
 " N.B. Whereas there came out last term several gold 
 snuff-boxes and others : this is to give notice, that Charles' 
 will put out a new edition on Saturday next, which will be 
 the only one in fashion till after Easter. The gentleman 
 that gave fifty pounds for the box set with diamonds, may 
 show it till Sunday night, provided he goes to church ; but 
 not after that time, there being one to be published on 
 Monday which will cost fourscore guineas." 
 
 No. 143. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, March 7, to Thursday, March 9, 1709-10. 
 
 Sheer Lane, March 8. 
 
 I was this afternoon surprised with a visit from my 
 sister Jenny, after an absence of some time. She had, 
 methought, in her manner and air, something that was a 
 little below that of the women of first breeding and quality, 
 but at the same time above the simplicity and familiarity 
 of her usual deportment. As soon as she was seated, 
 she began to talk to me of the odd place I lived in, and 
 begged of me to remove out of the lane where I have been 
 so long acquainted ; " for," said she, " it does so spoil one's 
 horses, that I must beg your pardon if you see me much 
 seldomer, when I am to make so great a journey with a 
 single pair, and make visits and get home the same night." 
 I understood her pretty well, but would not ; therefore 
 desired her to pay off her coach, for I had a great deal to 
 ' Charles Mather. 
 155 
 
The 'Tatler No. 143. March 9, 1709-10 
 
 talk to her. She very pertly told me, she came in her own. 
 chariot. " Why," said I, " is your husband in town ? And 
 has he setup an equipage .?" "No," answered she, "but I have 
 received ;{^500 by his order ; and his letters, which came 
 at the same time, bade me want for nothing that was 
 necessary." I was heartily concerned at her folly, whose 
 affairs render her but just able to bear such an expense. 
 However I considered, that according to the British custom 
 of treating women, there is no other method to be used 
 in removing any of their faults and errors, but conducting 
 their minds from one humour to another, with as much 
 ceremony as we lead their persons from one place to 
 another. I therefore dissembled my concern, and in com- 
 pliance with her, as a lady that was to use her feet no 
 more, I begged of her, after a short visit, to let me per- 
 suade her not to stay out till it was late, for fear of catching 
 cold as she went into her coach in the dampness of the 
 evening. The Malapert knew well enough I laughed at 
 her, but was not ill-pleased with the certainty of her 
 power over her husband, who, she knew, would support 
 her in any humour he was able, rather than pass through 
 the torment of an expostulation, to gainsay anything she 
 had a mind to. As soon as my fine lady was gone, I writ 
 the following letter to my brother : 
 
 "Dear Brother, 
 
 " T am at present under very much concern at the 
 -*■ splendid appearance I saw my sister make in an 
 equipage which she has set up in your absence. I beg 
 of you not to indulge her in this vanity ; and desire you 
 to consider, the world is so whimsical, that though it will 
 value you for being happy, it will hate you for appear- 
 ing so. The possession of wisdom and virtue (the only 
 solid distinctions of life) is allowed much more easUy than 
 
 156 
 
No. 143- March 9, 1709-10 I'he T'dtUr 
 
 that of wealth and quality. Besides which, I must entreat 
 you to weigh with yourself, what it is that people aim at 
 in setting themselves out to show in gay equipages, and 
 moderate fortunes. You are not by this means a better 
 man than your neighbour is ; but your horses are better 
 than his are. And will you suffer care and inquietude, 
 to have it said as you pass by, 'Those are very pretty punch 
 nags ! '' Nay, when you' have arrived at this, there are a 
 hundred worthless fellows who are still four horses happier 
 than you are. Remember, dear brother, there is a certain 
 modesty in the enjoyment of moderate wealth, which to 
 transgress, exposes men to the utmost derision ; and as 
 there is nothing but meanness of spirit can move a man 
 to value himself upon what can be purchased with money, 
 so he that shows an ambition that way, and cannot 
 arrive at it, is more emphatically guilty of that mean- 
 ness. I give you only my first thoughts on this occasion, 
 but shall, as I am a censor, entertain you in my next 
 with my sentiments in general upon the subject of equipage ; 
 and show, that though there are no sumptuary laws amongst 
 us, reason and good sense are equally binding, and will 
 ever prevail in appointing approbation or dislike in all 
 matters of an indifferent nature, when they are pursued 
 with earnestness. I am, 
 
 «Sir,"&c. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 To all Gentlemen, Ladies, and others, that delight 
 in soft lines. 
 
 These are to give notice, that the proper time of the 
 year for writing pastorals now drawing near, there is a 
 
 ^ A punch nag is a horse well set and well knit, having a short 
 back and thin shoulders, with a broad neck, and well lined with flesh 
 ("Farrier's Dictionary"). 
 
 157 
 
'T'he latler No. 143. March 9, 1709-10 
 
 stage-coach settled from the One Bell in the Strand to 
 Dorchester, which sets out twice a week, and passes through 
 Basingstoke, Sutton, Stockbridge, Salisbury, Blandford, 
 and so to Dorchester, over the finest downs in England. 
 At all which places, there are accommodations of spreading 
 beeches, beds of flowers, turf seats, and purling streams, 
 for happy swains ; and thunderstruck oaks, and left-handed 
 ravens, to foretell misfortunes to those that please to be 
 wretched ; with all other necessaries for pensive passion. 
 
 And for the convenience of such whose affairs will not 
 permit them to leave this town, at the same place they may 
 be furnished, during the season, with opening buds, flower- 
 ing thyme, warbling birds, sporting lambkins, and fountain 
 water, right and good, and bottled on the spot, by one 
 sent down on purpose. 
 
 N.B. The nymphs and swains are further given to 
 understand, that in those happy climes, they are so far 
 from being troubled with wolves, that for want of even 
 foxes, a considerable pack of hounds have been lately 
 forced to eat sheep. 
 
 Whereas on the 6th instant at midnight, several persons 
 of light honour and loose mirth, having taken upon them 
 in the shape of men, but with the voice of the players 
 belonging to Mr. Powell's^ company, to call up surgeons at 
 midnight, and send physicians to persons in sound sleep, 
 and perfect health : this is to certify, that Mr. Powell had 
 locked up the legs of all his company for fear of mischief 
 that night ; and that Mr. Powell will not pay for any 
 damages done by the said persons. It is also further ad- 
 vised, that there were no midwives wanted when those 
 persons called them up in the several parts of Westminster ; 
 but that those gentlewomen who were in the company of 
 ^ The puppet-show man. 
 
No. 143- March 9, 1709-10 I'ke T'atlcr 
 
 the said impostors, may take care to call such useful 
 persons on the 6th of December next. 
 
 The Censor having observed, that there are fine wrought 
 ladies' shoes and slippers put out to view at a great shoe- 
 maker's shop towards St. James's end of Pall Mall, which 
 create irregular thoughts and desires in the youth of this 
 nation ; the said shopkeeper is required to take in those 
 eyesores, or show cause the next court-day why he con- 
 tinues to expose the same ; and he is required to be 
 prepared particularly to answer to the slippers with green 
 lace and blue heels. 
 
 It is impossible for me to return the obliging things 
 Mr. Joshua Barnes' has said to me upon the account of 
 our mutual friend Homer. He and I have read him now 
 forty years with some understanding, and great admiration. 
 A work to be produced by one who has enjoyed so great 
 
 ' " The learned and ingenious Mr. Joshua Barnes has lately writ 
 an euiogium (after the manner of learned men to each other) upon 
 me ; and after having made me his compliments in the behalf of his 
 beloved Homer, and thanked me for the justice I have done him, in 
 the ' Table of Fame,' has desired me to recommend the folloviring 
 advertisement: 'Whereas Mr. Joshua Barnes, B.D., her Majesty's 
 Greek professor in the University of Cambridge, hath some time since 
 published proposals for printing a new and accurate edition of all 
 Homer's " Works," enlarged, corrected, and amended, by the help of 
 ancient MSS. the best editions, scholiographers, &c. : These are to 
 certify, that the "Iliad" and " Odyssey" are now both actually printed 
 off, only a small part of the hymns, other poems, and fragments remain- 
 ing, with the indexes. Life of Homer, and Prolegomena, which are 
 carried on with all possible expedition. All gentlemen therefore, 
 scholars and masters of great schools, that are willing to reap the 
 benefit of subscription, being ten shillings down, and on the delivery 
 of the two volumes in sheets twenty shillings more, are desired to 
 make their first payment to the said Mr. Barnes, now lodging at the 
 printing house at Cambridge, before the end of March ; after which 
 
 IS9 
 
±he latler No. 144. March 11,1709-10 
 
 an intimacy with an author, is certainly to be valued more 
 than any comment made by persons of yesterday : there- 
 fore, according to my friend Joshua's request, I recommend 
 his ' work ; and having used a little magic in the case, I 
 give this recommendation by way of amulet or charm, 
 against the malignity of envious backbiters, who speak 
 evil of performances whereof themselves were never 
 capable. If I may use my friend Joshua's own words, I 
 shall at present say no more, but that we. Homer's oldest 
 acquaintance now living, know best his ways ; and can 
 inform the world, that they are often mistaken when they 
 think he is in lethargic fits, which we know he was never 
 subject to ; and shall make appear to be rank scandal and 
 envy that of the Latin poet : 
 
 " Aliquando bonus dormitat Humerus." ' 
 
 No. 144. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, March 9, to Saturday, March 1 1, 1709-10. 
 
 Sheer Lane, March 10. 
 
 In a nation of liberty, there is hardly a person in the 
 whole mass of the people more absolutely necessary 
 than a censor. It is allowed, that I have no authority for 
 
 time no more single subscriptions to be admitted'" {Tatler, orig. folio. 
 No. 139). Joshua Barnes (1654-1712), Greek scholar and antiquary, 
 was educated at Christ's Hospital and Emanuel College, Cambridge. 
 He was appointed professor of Greek at Cambridge in 1695. The 
 expenses incurred in the production of his "Homer" involved him in 
 considerable difficulties. Bentley paid a doubtful compliment to 
 Barnes when he said that Barnes knew as much Greek as a Greek 
 cobbler. See the Spectator, No. 245. 
 
 ' Mr. Joshua Barnes' new and accurate edition of all Homer's 
 Works, &c. (Steele). 
 
 ^ Horace, "Ars Poet." 359 ("Quandoque bonus," &c.). 
 
 160 
 
No. 144- March II, 1709-10 I'he I'atler 
 
 assuming this important appellation, and that I am censor 
 of these nations, just as one is chosen king at the game of 
 questions and commands : ' but if, in the execution of this 
 fantastical dignity, I observe upon things which do not fall 
 within the cognisance of real authority, I hope it will be 
 granted, that an idle man could not be more usefully em- 
 ployed. Among all the irregularities of which I have 
 taken notice, I know none so proper to be presented to 
 the world by a censor, as that of the general expense and 
 affectation in equipage. I have lately hinted, that this 
 extravagance must necessarily get footing where we have 
 no sumptuary laws, and where every man may be dressed, 
 attended, and carried, in what manner he pleases. But 
 my tenderness to my fellow subjects will not permit me to 
 let this enormity go unobserved. 
 
 As the matter now stands, every man takes it in his 
 head, that he has a liberty to spend his money as he pleases. 
 Thus, in spite of all order, justice, and decorum, we the 
 greater number of the Queen's loyal subjects, for no reason 
 in the world but because we want money, do not share 
 alike in the division of her Majesty's high-road. The 
 horses and slaves of the rich take up the whole street, 
 while we peripatetics are very glad to watch an oppor- 
 tunity to whisk across a passage, very thankful that we are 
 not run over for interrupting the machine, that carries in 
 it a person neither more handsome, wise, nor valiant than 
 the meanest of us. For this reason, were I to propose a 
 tax, it should certainly be upon coaches and chairs : for 
 no man living can assign a reason why one man should 
 have half a street to carry him at his ease, and perhaps 
 only in pursuit of pleasures, when as good a man as him- 
 
 ^ Cf. Steele's " Lover," No. 13: "I might have been a king at 
 questions and commands." This game is mentioned several times in 
 the Spectator. 
 
 VOL. III. 161 L 
 
The Tatler No. 144. March 11,1709-10 
 
 self wants room for his own person to pass upon the most 
 necessary and urgent occasion. Till such an acknow- 
 ledgment is made to the public, I shall take upon me to 
 vest certain rights in the scavengers of the cities of London 
 and Westminster, to take the horses and servants of all 
 such as do not become or deserve' such distinctions into 
 their peculiar custody. The offenders themselves I shall 
 allow safe conduct to their places of abode in the carts of 
 the said scavengers, but their horses shall be mounted by 
 their footmen, and sent into the service abroad : and I 
 take this opportunity in the first place to recruit the regi- 
 ment of my good old friend the brave and honest Sylvius,' 
 that they be as well taught as they are fed. It is to me 
 most miraculous, so unreasonable an usurpation as this I 
 am speaking of should so long have been tolerated. We 
 hang a poor fellow for taking any trifle from us on the 
 road, and bear with the rich for robbing us of the road 
 itself. Such a tax as this would be of great satisfaction to 
 us who walk on foot ; and since the distinction of riding 
 in a coach is not to be appointed according to a man's 
 merit or service to their country, nor that liberty given as 
 
 ' General Cornelius Wood, son of the Rev. Seth Wood, was born 
 in 1636. He served for four years as a private soldier, before he was 
 advanced to be a sub-brigadier ; after which his rise was rapid, owing 
 entirely to his signal valour, his strict justice, and extensive humanity. 
 The Prince of Orange, on his accession to the throne, gave him a 
 troop of horse, in the regiment commanded by George Lord Huet ; 
 he was made a colonel of horse in 1693 ; and a brigadier-general in 
 1702. His conduct and conversation in Ireland rendered him very 
 acceptable to Marshal Schomberg ; his valour was conspicuous 
 at the Battle of Blenheim, after which the Duke of Marlborough 
 declared him a major-general ; it was no less signally manifested at 
 Ramillies in 1706 ; the year following he was made a lieutenant- 
 general of horse, in which post he arrived to be the eldest. In 1708, 
 he was Governor of Ghent, and honoured by the burghers, in testi- 
 mony of their singular satisfaction, wath a large piece of plate, which 
 
 i6z 
 
No. 144- March II, 1709-10 ike 'Tdtler 
 
 a. reward for some eminent virtue, we should be highly 
 contented to see them pay something for the insult they 
 do us in the state they take upon them while they are 
 drawn by us. 
 
 Till they have made us some reparation of this kind, 
 we the peripatetics of Great Britain cannot think our- 
 selves well treated, while every one that is able is allowed 
 to set up an equipage. 
 
 As for my part, I cannot but admire how persons, con- 
 scious to themselves of no manner of superiority above 
 others, can out of mere pride or laziness expose themselves 
 at this rate to public view, and put us all upon pronounc- 
 ing those three terrible syllables. Who is that } When it 
 comes to that question, our method is to consider the 
 mien and air of the passenger, and comfort ourselves for 
 being dirty to the ankles, by laughing at his figure and 
 appearance who overlooks us. I must confess, where it 
 not for the solid injustice of the thing, there is nothing 
 could afford a discerning eye greater occasion for mirth, 
 than this licentious huddle of qualities and characters in 
 the equipages about this town. The overseers of the 
 highway and constables have so little skill or power to 
 rectify this matter, that you may often see the equipage 
 
 he left as a legacy to the Duke of Ormond, to evince his gratitude for 
 services received, and his esteem for that nobleman's illustrious 
 character. In 1709, he gathered fresh laurels in the bloody field of 
 Tanieres, and next year was again appointed Governor of Ghent ; but 
 in his march to that garrison, an unruly horse on which he rode, 
 reared on end, and fell backwards upon him ; his collar-bone was 
 broken, and his stomach so bruised by this accident, that he never 
 was well after. He languished about two years, and died at the 
 Gravel-pits near Kensington, on the 17th of May 171 2, in the 75 th 
 year of his age. He never married (Nichols). Prior, in his poem on 
 the Battle of Blenheim, says : 
 
 " Let generous Sylvius stand for honest Wood," 
 163 
 
Th e 'Ta tier No. 1 44. March 1 1 , 1 709-1 o 
 
 of a fellow whom all the town knows to deserve hanging, 
 make a stop that shall interrupt the Lord High Chan- 
 cellor and all the judges on their way to Westminster. 
 
 For the better understanding of things and persons in 
 this general confusion, I have given directions to all the 
 coachmakers and coach-painters in town, to bring me in 
 lists of their several customers ; and doubt not, but with 
 comparing the orders of each man, in the placing his arms 
 on the doors of his chariot, as well as the words, devices 
 and ciphers to be fixed upon them, to make a collection 
 which shall let us into the nature, if not the history, of 
 mankind, more usefuUy than the curiosities of any medallist 
 in Europe. 
 
 But this evil of vanity in our figure, with many, many 
 others, proceeds from a certain gaiety of heart, which has 
 crept into men's very thoughts and complexions. The 
 passions and adventures of heroes, when they enter the 
 lists for the tournament in romances, are not more easily 
 distinguishable by their palfreys and their armour, than the 
 secret springs and affections of the several pretenders to 
 show amongst us are known by their equipages in ordinary 
 life. The young bridegroom with his gilded cupids, and 
 winged angels, has some excuse in the joy of his heart to 
 launch out into something that may be significant of his 
 present happiness : but to see men, for no reason upon 
 earth but that they are rich, ascend triumphant chariots, 
 and ride through the people, has at the bottom nothing else 
 in it but an insolent transport, arising only from the dis- 
 tinction of fortune. 
 
 It is therefore high time that I call in such coaches as 
 are in their embellishments improper for the character of 
 their owners. But if I find I am not obeyed herein, and 
 that I cannot pull down these equipages already erected, I 
 shall take upon me to prevent the growth of this evil for 
 
 164 
 
No. 145. March 14, 1709-10 I'he 'Tatler 
 
 the future, by inquiring into the pretensions of the persons 
 who shall hereafter attempt to make public entries with 
 ornaments and decorations of his own appointment. If a 
 man, who believed he had the handsomest leg in this king- 
 dom, should take a fancy to adorn so deserving a limb 
 with a blue garter, he would justly be punished for offend- 
 ing against the most noble order : and, I think, the general 
 prostitution of equipage and retinue is as destructive to all 
 distinction, as the impertinence of one man, if permitted, 
 would certainly be to that illustrious fraternity. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The Censor having lately received intelligence, that the 
 ancient simplicity in the dress and manners of that part of 
 this island, called Scotland, begins to decay ; and that 
 there are at this time in the good town of Edinburgh, 
 beaus, fops, and coxcombs : his late correspondent' from 
 that place is desired to send up their names and characters 
 with all expedition, that they may be proceeded against 
 accordingly, and proper officers named to take in their 
 canes, snuff-boxes, and all other useless necessaries com- 
 monly worn by such offenders. 
 
 No. 145. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, March 1 1, to Tuesday, March 14, 1709-10. 
 
 Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. 
 
 ViRG., Eclog. iii. 103. 
 
 White's Chocolate-house, March 13. 
 
 This evening 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 
 
 1 "Osyris" ; see No. 143. 
 i6s 
 
±he latler No. 145. March 14,1709-10 
 
 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, com- 
 plaining 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 diver- 
 sions and devotions are interrupted by them in such a 
 manner, as that they cannot attend 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. 
 
 This representation of the present state of affairs 
 between the two sexes gave me very much alarm ; and I 
 had no more to do, but to recollect what I had seen at 
 any one assembly for some years last past, to be convinced 
 of the truth and justice of this remonstrance. If there be 
 not a stop put to this evil art, all the modes of address, 
 and the elegant embellishments of life, which arise out of 
 the noble passion of love, will of necessity decay. "Who 
 would be at the trouble of rhetoric, or study the hon mien, 
 when his introduction is so much easier obtained by a 
 sudden reverence in a downcast look at the meeting the 
 
 ' See No. 141. 
 166 
 
No. 145- March 14, 1709-10 The Tatler 
 
 eye of a fair lady, and beginning again to ogle her as soon as 
 she glances another way ? I remember very well, when I 
 was last at an opera, I could perceive the eyes of the 
 whole audience cast into particular cross angles one upon 
 another, without any manner of regard to the stage, 
 .though King Latinus was himself present when I made that 
 observation. It was then very pleasant to look into the 
 hearts of the whole company ; for the balls of sight are 
 so formed, that one man's eyes are spectacles to another to 
 read his heart with. The most ordinary beholder can 
 take notice of any violent agitation in the mind, any 
 pleasing transport, or any inward grief, in the person he 
 looks at ; but one of these oglers can see a studied indif- 
 ference, a concealed love, or a smothered resentment, in 
 the very glances that are made to hide those dispositions of 
 thought. 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 of looking 
 another way, till 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 till that 
 night I was just now speaking of ; but I then saw the 
 same thing pass between an ogler and a coquette. Mirtillo, 
 the most learned of the former, had for some time discon- 
 tinued to visit Flavia, no less eminent among the latter. 
 They industriously avoided all places where they might 
 probably meet, but chance brought them together to the 
 playhouse, and seated them in a direct line over against 
 each other, she in a front box, he in the pit next the stage. 
 As soon as Flavia had received the looks of the whole 
 
 167 
 
'T'he 'Tatler No. 145. March 14, 1709-10 
 
 crowd below her with that air of insensibility which is 
 necessary at the first entrance, she began to look round 
 her and saw the vagabond Mirtillo, who had so long 
 absented himself from her circle ; and when she first 
 discovered him, she looked upon him with that glance, 
 which, in the language of oglers, is called the scornful, but 
 immediately turned her observation another way, and 
 returned upon him with the indiflFerent. This gave 
 Mirtillo no small resentment ; but he used her accordingly. 
 He took care to be ready for her next glance. She found 
 his eyes full in the indolent, with his lips crumpled up in 
 the posture of one whistling. Her anger at this usage 
 immediately appeared in every muscle of her face ; and 
 after many emotions, which glistened in her eyes, she cast 
 them round the whole house, and gave them softnesses in 
 the face of every man she had ever seen before. After 
 she thought she had reduced all she saw to her obedience, 
 the play began, and ended their dialogue. As soon as that 
 was over, she stood up with a visage full of dissembled 
 alacrity and pleasure, with which she overlooked the 
 audience, and at last came to him : he was then placed in 
 a side-way, with his hat slouching over his eyes, and 
 gazing at a wench in the side-box,' as talking of that 
 gipsy to the gentleman who sat by him. But as she was 
 fixed upon him, he turned suddenly with a full face upon 
 her, and with all the respect imaginable, made her the 
 most obsequious bow in the presence of the whole theatre. 
 This gave her a pleasure not to be concealed, and she 
 made him the recovering or second curtsy, with a smile 
 that spoke a perfect reconciliation. Between the ensuing 
 acts, they talked to each other with gestures and glances so 
 significant, that they ridiculed the whole house in this 
 silent speech, and made an appointment that Mirtillo 
 should lead her to her coach. 
 
 ' See No. 50. 
 168 
 
No. 145. Marchi4, I709-IO I'he 'Tuthr 
 
 The peculiar language of one eye, as it differs from 
 another, as much as the tone of one voice from another, 
 and the fascination or enchantment which is lodged in the 
 optic nerves of the persons concerned in these dialogues, 
 is, I must confess, too nice a subject for one who is not an 
 adept in these speculations ; but I shall, for the good and 
 safety of the fair sex, call my learned friend Sir William 
 Read ' to my assistance, and, by the help of his observa- 
 tions on this organ, acquaint them when the eye is to be 
 believed, and when distrusted. On the contrary, I shall 
 conceal the true meaning of the looks of ladies, and 
 indulge in them all the art they can acquire in the manage- 
 ment of their glances : all which is but too little against 
 creatures who triumph in falsehood, and begin to forswear 
 with their eyes, when their tongues can be no longer 
 believed. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 A very clean, well-behaved young gentleman, who is in 
 a very good way in Cornhill, has writ to me the following 
 lines, and seems in some passages of his letter (which I 
 omit) to lay it very much to heart, that I have not spoken 
 of a supernatural beauty whom he sighs for, and com- 
 plains to in most elaborate language. Alas ! what can 
 a monitor do .? All mankind live in romance : 
 
 "Royal Exchange, March n. 
 " Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " Qome time since you were pleased to mention the 
 ''^ beauties in the New Exchange and Westminster 
 Hall,^ and in my judgment were not very impartial ; for 
 if you were pleased to allow there was one goddess in the 
 New Exchange, and two shepherdesses in Westminster 
 Hall, you very well might say, there was and is at present 
 one angel in the Royal Exchange : and I humbly beg the 
 
 1 See No. 9. ^ See No. 139. 
 
 169 
 
I'he T'atler No. 146. March 16,1709-10 
 
 favour of you to let justice be done her, by inserting this 
 in your next Tatkr ; which will make her my good angel, 
 and me your most humble servant, 
 
 "A. B."' 
 
 No. 146. [Addison. 
 
 From Tuesday, March 14, to 'Thursday, March 16, 1709-10. 
 
 Permittes ipsis expendere numinibus, quid 
 Conveniat nobis, rebusque sit utile nostris. 
 Nam pro jucundis aptissima quaeque dabunt Di. 
 Carior est illis homo, quam sibi. Nos animorum 
 Impulsu et c2Eca magnaque cupidine ducti 
 Conjugium petimus, partumque uxoris ; at illis 
 Notum, qui pueri qualisque futura sit uxor. 
 
 Juv., Sat. X. 347. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 15. 
 
 Among the various sets of correspondents who apply to 
 me for advice, and send up their cases from all parts 
 of Great Britain, there are none who are more importunate 
 with me, and whom I am more inclined to answer, than 
 the complainers. One of them dates his letter to me from 
 the banks of a purling stream, where he used to ruminate 
 in solitude upon the divine Clarissa, and where he is now 
 looking about for a convenient leap, which he tells me he 
 is resolved to take, unless I support him under the loss of 
 that charming perjured woman. Poor Lavinia presses as 
 much for consolation on the other side, and is reduced 
 to such an extremity of despair by the inconstancy of 
 Philander, that she tells me she writes her letter with her 
 pen in one hand and her garter in the other. A gentle- 
 man of an ancient family in Norfolk is almost out of his 
 
 ^ Perhaps Alexander Bayne ; see No. 84. 
 170 
 
No. 146. March 16,1709-10 T' k 6 T'atUr 
 
 wits upon account of a greyhound, that after having been 
 his inseparable companion for ten years, is at last run mad. 
 Another (who I believe is serious) complains to me, in a 
 very moving manner, of the loss of a wife ; and another, 
 in terms still more moving, of a purse of money that was 
 taken from him on Bagshot Heath, and which, he tells me, 
 would not have troubled him if he had given it to the 
 poor. In short, there is scarce a calamity in human life 
 that has not produced me a letter. 
 
 It is indeed wonderful to consider, how men are able to 
 raise affliction to themselves out of everything. Lands 
 and houses, sheep and oxen, can convey happiness and 
 misery into the hearts of reasonable creatures. Nay, I 
 have known a muff, a scarf, or a tippet, become a solid 
 blessing or misfortune. A lap-dog has broke the hearts of 
 thousands. Flavia, who had buried five children, and two 
 husbands, was never able to get over the loss of her parrot. 
 How often has a divine creature been thrown into a fit by 
 a neglect at a ball or an assembly .'' Mopsa has kept her 
 chamber ever since the last masquerade, and is in greater 
 danger of her life upon being left out of it, than Clarinda 
 from the violent cold which she caught at it. Nor are 
 these dear creatures the only suiFerers by such imaginary 
 calamities : many an author has been dejected at the 
 censure of one whom he ever looked upon as an idiot ; 
 and many a hero cast into a fit of melancholy, because the 
 rabble have not hooted at him as he passed through the 
 streets. Theron places all his happiness in a running 
 horse, SufFenus in a gilded chariot, Fulvius in a blue 
 string, and Florio in a tulip root. It would be endless to 
 enumerate the many fantastical afflictions that disturb 
 mankind ; but as a misery is not to be measured from the 
 nature of the evil, but from the temper of the sufferer, I 
 shall present my readers, who are unhappy either in reality 
 
 171 
 
'T'he T'atler No. 146. March 16,1709-10 
 
 or imagination, with an allegory, for which I am indebted 
 to the great father and prince of poets. 
 
 As I was sitting after dinner in my elbow-chair, I took 
 up Homer, and dipped into that famous speech of Achilles 
 to Priam, 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 compo- 
 sition 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 their 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 ; the ocean gave in his trident, the 
 earth her fruits, and the sun his seasons. Among the 
 several deities who came to make their court on this occa- 
 sion, the destinies advanced with two great tuns carried 
 before them, one of which they fixed at the right hand of 
 Jupiter as he sat upon his throne, and the other on his 
 left. The first was filled with all the blessings, and the 
 other with all the calamities of human life. Jupiter, in 
 the beginning of his reign, finding the world much more 
 innocent than it is in this iron age, poured very plentifully 
 out of the tun that stood at his right hand ; but as man- 
 kind degenerated, and became unworthy of his blessings, 
 he set abroach the other vessel, that filled the world with 
 pain and poverty, battles and distempers, jealousy and 
 falsehood, intoxicating pleasures and untimely deaths. 
 
 He was at length so very much incensed at the great 
 depravation of human nature, and the repeated provoca- 
 tions which he received from all parts of the earth, that 
 
 172 
 
No. 146. March 16,1709-10 I'he 'TatUr 
 
 having resolved to destroy the whole species, except 
 Deucalion and Pyrrha, he commanded the Destinies to 
 gather up the blessings which he had thrown away upon 
 the sons of men, and lay them up till the world should be 
 inhabited by a more virtuous and deserving race of 
 mortals. 
 
 The three sisters immediately repaired to the earth, in 
 search of the several blessings that had been scattered 
 on it ; but found the task which was enjoined them, to be 
 much more difficult than they had imagined. The first 
 places they resorted to, as the most likely to succeed in, 
 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. 
 
 There was another circumstance no less unexpected than 
 the former, and which gave them very great perplexity in 
 the discharge of the trust which Jupiter had committed to 
 them. They observed, that several blessings had degen- 
 erated into calamities, and that several calamities had 
 improved into blessings, according as they fell into the 
 possession of wise or foolish men. They often found 
 power, with so much insolence and impatience cleaving 
 to it, that it became a misfortune to the person on whom 
 it was conferred. Youth had often distempers growing 
 about it, worse than the infirmities of old age : wealth 
 was often united to such a sordid avarice, as made it the 
 most uncomfortable and painful kind of poverty. On 
 the contrary, they often found pain made glorious by 
 fortitude, poverty lost in content, deformity beautified 
 with virtue. In a word, the blessings were often like 
 
 173 
 
I'he T'atler No. 146. March 16,1709-10 
 
 good fruits planted in a bad soil, that by degrees fall off 
 from their natural relish, into tastes altogether insipid 
 or unwholesome ; and the calamities, like harsh fruits, 
 cultivated in a good soil, and enriched by proper grafts 
 and inoculations, till they swell with generous and delight- 
 ful juices. 
 
 There was still a third circumstance that occasioned as 
 great a surprise to the three sisters as either of the fore- 
 going, when they discovered several blessings and calamities 
 which had never been in either of the tuns that stood by 
 the throne of Jupiter, and were nevertheless as great 
 occasions of happiness or misery as any there. These 
 were that spurious crop of blessings and calamities which 
 were never sown by the hand of the Deity, but grow of 
 themselves out of the fancies and dispositions of human 
 creatures. Such are dress, titles, place, equipage, false 
 shame, and groundless fear, with the like vain imaginations 
 that shoot up in trifling, weak, and irresolute minds. 
 
 The Destinies finding themselves in so great a perplexity, 
 concluded, that it would be impossible for them to execute 
 the commands that had been given them according to their 
 first intention ; for which reason they agreed to throw all 
 the blessings and calamities together into one large vessel, 
 and in that manner offer them up at the feet of Jupiter. 
 
 This was performed accordingly, the eldest sister pre- 
 senting herself before the vessel, and introducing it with 
 an apology for what they had done. 
 
 " O Jupiter ! " says she, " we have gathered together 
 all the good and evil, the comforts and distresses of human 
 life, which we thus present before thee in one promiscuous 
 heap. We beseech thee that thou thyself wilt sort them 
 out for the future, as in thy wisdom thou shalt think fit. 
 For we acknowledge, that there is none beside thee that 
 
 174 
 
No. 147- March 1 8, 1709-10 T'ke lUtler 
 
 can judge what will occasion grief or joy in the heart of 
 a human creature, and what will prove a blessing or a 
 calamity to the person on whom it is bestowed. 
 
 No. 147* [Addison and Steele. 
 
 From Thurs., March 16, to Satur., March 18, 1709-10. 
 
 Ut ameris, amabilis esto. — Ovid., Ars Am. ii. 107. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 17. 
 
 Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body. 
 As by the one, health is preserved, strengthened and 
 invigorated ; by the other, virtue (which is the health of 
 the mind) is kept alive, cherished and confirmed. But as 
 exercise becomes tedious and painful when we make use of 
 it only as the means of health, so reading is apt to grow 
 uneasy and burdensome, when we apply ourselves to it 
 only for our improvement in virtue. For this reason, the 
 virtue which we gather from a fable, or an allegory, is like 
 the health we get by hunting ; as we are engaged in an 
 agreeable pursuit that draws us on with pleasure, and 
 makes us insensible of the fatigues that accompany it. 
 
 After this preface, I shall set down a very beautiful 
 allegorical fable out of the great poet whom I mentioned 
 in my last paper, and whom it is very difficult to lay aside 
 when one is engaged in the reading of him. And this I 
 particularly design for the use of several of my fair 
 correspondents, who in their letters have complained to me, 
 that they have lost the affections of their husbands, and 
 desire my advice how to recover them. 
 
 Juno, says Homer,' seeing her Jupiter seated on the top 
 of Mount Ida, and knowing that he had conceived an 
 » « Iliad," xiv. 157. 
 175 
 
T^he Tatler No. 147. March 18,1709-10 
 
 aversion to her, began to study how she should regain his 
 affections, and make herself amiable to him. With this 
 thought she immediately retired into her chamber, where 
 she bathed herself in ambrosia, which gave her person all 
 its beauty, and diffused so divine an odour, as refreshed all 
 nature, and sweetened both heaven and earth. She let her 
 immortal tresses flow in the most graceful manner, and 
 took a particular care to dress herself in several orna- 
 ments, which the poet describes at length, and which the 
 goddess chose out as the most proper to set off her person 
 to the best advantage. In the next place, she made a visit 
 to Venus, the deity who presides over love, and begged of 
 her, as a particular favour, that she would lend her for 
 a while those charms with which she subdued the hearts 
 both of gods and men. " For," says the goddess, " I 
 would make use of them to reconcile the two deities who 
 took care of me in my infancy, and who, at present, are 
 at so great a variance, that they are estranged from each 
 other's bed." Venus was proud of an opportunity of 
 obliging so great a goddess, and therefore made her a 
 present of the cestus which she used to wear about her 
 own waist, with advice to hide it in her bosom till she had 
 accomplished her intention. This cestus was a fine parti- 
 coloured girdle, which, as Homer tells us, had all the 
 attractions of the sex wrought into it. The four principal 
 figures in the embroidery were Love, Desire, Fondness of 
 Speech, and Conversation, filled with that sweetness and 
 complacency, which, says the poet, insensibly steal away 
 the hearts of the wisest men. 
 
 Juno, after having made these necessary preparations, 
 came as by accident into the presence of Jupiter, who is 
 said to have been as much inflamed with her beauty, as 
 when he first stole to her embraces without the consent of 
 jtheir parents. Juno, to cover her real thoughts, told him 
 
 176 
 
No. 147- March 18,1709-10 I'he T'atUr 
 
 as she had told Venus, that she was going to make a visit 
 to Oceanus and Tethys. He prevailed upon her to stay 
 with him, protesting to her, that she appeared more amiable 
 in his eye than ever any mortal, goddess, or even herself, 
 had appeared to him till that day. The poet then repre- 
 sents him in so great an ardour, that (without going up to 
 the house which had been built by the hands of Vulcan 
 according to Juno's direction) he threw a golden cloud 
 over their heads as they sat upon the top of Mount Ida, 
 while the earth beneath them sprung up in lotuses,' 
 saffrons, hyacinths, and a bed of the softest flowers for 
 their repose. 
 
 This close translation of one of the finest passages in 
 Homer, may suggest abundance of instruction to a woman 
 who has a mind to preserve or recall the affection of her 
 husband. The care of the person and the dress, with the 
 particular blandishments woven in the cestus, are so plainly 
 recommended by this fable, and so indispensably necessary 
 in every female who desires to please, that they need no 
 further explanation. The discretion likewise in covering 
 all matrimonial quarrels from the knowledge of others, is 
 taught in the pretended visit to Tethys, in the speech 
 where Juno addresses herself to Venus ; as the chaste and 
 prudent management of a wife's charms is intimated by 
 the same pretence for her appearing before Jupiter, and by 
 the concealment of the cestus in her bosom. 
 
 I shall leave this tale to the consideration of such good 
 housewives who are never well dressed but when they are 
 abroad, and think it necessary to appear more agreeable to 
 
 ' Lotus is the name of a native genus akin to the trefoil and clovers. 
 It is best known as the supposed opium-like food of a people on the 
 shores of the Mediterranean, visited by Ulysses, — Tennyson's " mild- 
 eyed melancholy lotos-eaters," living in a land where all things always 
 seemed the same. 
 
 VOL. III. 177 ** 
 
T^he I'atler No. 147. March 18, 1709-10 
 
 all men living than their husbands : as also to those 
 prudent ladies, who, to avoid the appearance of being over- 
 fond, entertain their husband with indifference, aversion, 
 sullen silence, or exasperating language.* 
 
 Sheer Lane, March 17. 
 
 Upon my coming home last night, I found a very hand- 
 some present of wine left for me, as a taste of 2 1 6 hogs- 
 heads which are to be put to sale at j^20 a hogshead, at 
 Garraway's CoiFee-house in Exchange Alley, on the 22 nd 
 instant, at three in the afternoon, and to be tasted in 
 Major Long's vaults from the 20th instant till the time of 
 sale.' This having been sent to me with a desire that I 
 would give my judgment upon it, I immediately im- 
 panelled a jury of men of nice palates and strong heads, 
 who being all of them very scrupulous, and unwilling to 
 proceed rashly in a matter of so great importance, refused 
 to bring in their verdict till three in the morning ; at 
 which time the foreman pronounced, as well as he was 
 able, " Extra — a — ordinary French claret." For my own 
 part, as I love to consult my pillow in all points of 
 moment, I slept upon it before I would give my sentence, 
 and this morning confirmed the verdict. 
 
 Having mentioned this tribute of wine, I must give 
 notice to my correspondents for the future, who shall 
 apply to me on this occasion, that as I shall decide nothing 
 unadvisedly in matters of this nature, I cannot pretend to 
 give judgment of a right good liquor, without examining 
 at least three dozen bottles of it. I must at the same 
 time do myself the justice to let the world know, that I 
 have resisted great temptations in this kind ; as it is well 
 known to a butcher in Clare Market, who endeavoured to 
 
 * The preceding portion of this paper was by Addison (Tickell) 
 ' This sale was advertised in No. 145. 
 
 178 
 
No. 148. March 21, 1709-10 The T^atlcr 
 
 corrupt me with a dozen and a half of marrow-bones. I 
 had likewise a bribe sent me by a fishmonger, consisting 
 of a collar of brawn, and a joU of salmon ; but not finding 
 them excellent in their kinds, I had the integrity to eat 
 them both up, without speaking one word of them. How- 
 ever, for the future, I shall have an eye to the diet of this 
 great city, and will recommend the best and most whole- 
 some food to them, if I receive these proper and respectful 
 notices from the sellers, that it may not be said hereafter, 
 my readers were better taught than fed. 
 
 No. 148. [Addison. 
 
 From Saturday, March 18, to Tuesday, March 21, 1709-10. 
 Gustus elementa per omnia quasrunt. 
 
 Nunquam animo pretiis obstantibus. 
 
 Juv., Sat. xi. 14. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 20. 
 
 Having intimated in my last paper, that I design to 
 take under my inspection the diet of this great city, 
 I shall begin with a very earnest and serious exhortation to 
 all my well-disposed readers, that they would return to the 
 food of their forefathers, and reconcile themselves to beef 
 and mutton. This was the diet which bred that hardy 
 race of mortals who won the fields of Cressy and Agin- 
 court. I need not go up so high as the history of Guy 
 Earl of Warwick, who is well known to have eaten up a 
 dun cow of his own kiUing.' The renowned King Arthur 
 ' Butler, speaking of Talgol (" Hudibras," Part I. canto ii. 305), 
 says : 
 
 " He many a boar and huge dun-cow 
 Did, like another Guy, o'erthrow, 
 But Guy, with him in fight compared. 
 Had like the boar or dun-cow fared." 
 179 
 
T'he T'atler No. 148. March 21, 1709-10 
 
 is generally looked upon as the first who ever sat down to 
 a whole roasted ox (which was certainly the best way to 
 preserve the gravy), and it is further added, that he and 
 his knights sat about it at his Round Table, and usually 
 consumed it to the very bones before they would enter 
 upon any debate of moment. The Black Prince was a 
 professed lover of the brisket ; not to mention the history 
 of the sirloin, or the institution of the Order of Beef- 
 eaters, which are all so many evident and undeniable marks 
 of the great respect which our warlike predecessors have 
 paid to this excellent food. The tables of the ancient 
 gentry of this nation were covered thrice a day with hot 
 roast beef ; and I am credibly informed, by an antiquary 
 who has searched the registers in which the bills of 
 fare of the Court are recorded, that instead of tea and 
 bread and butter, which have prevailed of late years, the 
 maids of honour in Queen Elizabeth's time were allowed 
 three rumps of beef for their breakfast. Mutton has like- 
 wise been in great repute among our valiant countrymen, 
 but was formerly observed to be the food rather of men of 
 nice and delicate appetites, than those of strong and robust 
 constitutions. For which reason, even to this day, we use 
 the word " sheep-biter " as a term of reproach, as we do 
 " beef-eater "in a respectful and honourable sense. As for the 
 flesh of lamb, veal, chicken, and other animals under age, 
 they were the invention of sickly and degenerate palates, 
 according to that wholesome remark of Daniel the historian,' 
 who takes notice, that in all taxes upon provisions, during 
 the reigns of several of our kings, there is nothing men- 
 tioned besides the flesh of such fowl and cattle as were 
 arrived at their full growth, and were mature for slaughter. 
 The common people of this kingdom do still keep up the 
 taste of their ancestors ; and it is to this that we in a great 
 
 ' Samuel Daniel's "History " was published in 1613. 
 180 
 
No. 148. March 21, 1709-10 l' k 6 'Tatler 
 
 measure owe the unparalleled victories that have been 
 gained in this reign : for, I would desire my reader to 
 consider, what work our countrymen would have made at 
 Blenheim and Ramillies, if they had been fed with fricassees 
 and ragouts. 
 
 For this reason, we at present see the florid complexion, 
 the strong limb, and the hale constitution, are td be found 
 chiefly 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 ofi^ from the athletic constitution of their progenitors, 
 and are dwindled away into a pale, sickly, spindle-legged, 
 generation of valetudinarians. 
 
 I may perhaps be thought extravagant in my notion ; 
 but I must confess, I am apt to impute the dishonours 
 that sometimes happen in great families to the inflaming 
 kind of diet which is so much in fashion. Many dishes 
 can excite desire without giving strength, and heat the 
 body without nourishing it ; as physicians observe, that 
 the poorest and most dispirited blood is most subject to 
 fevers. I look upon a French ragout to be as pernicious 
 to the stomach as a glass of spirits ; and when I have seen 
 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. 
 
 The rules among these false delicates are to be as con- 
 tradictory as they can be to nature. 
 
 Without expecting the return of hunger, they eat for 
 an appetite, and prepare dishes not to allay, but to 
 excite it. 
 
 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 ofi^ as soon as it is good to be eaten. 
 
 181 
 
T^he 'Tatler No. 148. March 21, 1709-10 
 
 They are not to approve anything that is agreeable to 
 ordinary palates ; and nothing is to gratify their senses, 
 but what would offend those of their inferiors. 
 
 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 there- 
 fore did not know where to help myself That which 
 stood before me, I took to be a roasted porcupine, how- 
 ever 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. At last I discovered, 
 with some joy, a pig at the lower end of the table, and 
 begged a gentleman that was near it to cut me a piece of 
 it. Upon which the gentleman of the house said, with 
 great civility, " I am sure you will like the pig, for it was 
 whipped to death." I must confess, I heard him with 
 horror, and could not eat of an animal that had died so 
 tragical a death. I was now in great hunger and con- 
 fusion, when, methought, I smelt the agreeable savour of 
 roast beef, but could not tell from which dish it arose, 
 though I did not question but it lay disguised in one of 
 them. Upon turning my head, I saw a noble sirloin on 
 the side-table smoking in the most delicious manner. I 
 had recourse to it more than once, and could not see, 
 without some indignation, that substantial English dish 
 
 182 
 
No. 148. March 21, 1709-10 I'he T'dtUr 
 
 banished in so ignominious a manner, to make way for 
 French kickshaws. 
 
 The dessert was brought up at last, which in truth was 
 as extraordinary as anything that had come before it. 
 The whole, when ranged in its proper order, looked like a 
 very beautiful winter-piece. There were several pyramids 
 of candied sweetmeats, that hung like icicles, with fruit 
 scattered up and down, and hid in an artificial kind of 
 frost. At the same time there were great quantities of 
 cream beaten up into a snow, and near them Httle plates 
 of sugar-plums, disposed like so many heaps of hailstones, 
 with a multitude of congelations in jellies of various 
 colours. I was indeed so pleased with the several objects 
 which lay before me, that I did not care for displacing any 
 of them, and was half angry with the rest of the company, 
 that for the sake of a piece of lemon-peel, or a sugar-plum, 
 would spoil so pleasing a picture. Indeed, I could not but 
 smile to see several of them cooling their mouths with 
 lumps of ice which they had just before been burning 
 with salts and peppers. 
 
 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 
 every thing love what is simple and natural, so particularly 
 in my food ; two plain dishes, with two or three good- 
 natured, cheerful, ingenious 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. 
 
 183 
 
The uatler No. 149. March 23, 1709-10 
 
 No. 149. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, March 2 1 , to Thursday, March 23,1 709-10. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 22. 
 
 Tt has often been a solid grief to me, when I have re- 
 -■- fleeted on this glorious nation, which is the scene of 
 public happiness and liberty, that there are still crowds of 
 private tyrants, against whom there neither is any law now 
 in being, nor can there be invented any by the wit of man. 
 These cruel men are ill-natured husbands. The commerce 
 in the conjugal state is so delicate, that it is impossible to 
 prescribe rules for the conduct of it, so as to fit ten 
 thousand nameless pleasures and disquietudes which arise 
 to people in that condition. But it is in this as in some 
 other nice cases, where touching upon the malady tenderly, 
 is half way to the cure ; and there are some faults which 
 need only to be observed to be amended. I am put into 
 this way of thinking by a late conversation which I am 
 going to give an account of. 
 
 I made a visit the other day to a family for which I 
 have a great honour, and found the father, the mother, 
 and two or three of the younger children, drop off de- 
 signedly to leave me alone with the eldest daughter, who 
 was but a visitant there as well as myself, and is the wife 
 of a gentleman of a very fair character in the world. As 
 soon as we were alone, I saw her eyes full of tears, and me- 
 thought she had much to say to me, for which she wanted 
 encouragement. " Madam," said I, " you know I wish you 
 all as well as any friend you have : speak freely what I see 
 you are oppressed with, and you may be sure, if I cannot 
 relieve your distress, you may at least reap so much present 
 
 184 
 
No. 149- March 23, 1709-10 T'hc T'ttthr 
 
 advantage, as safely to give yourself the ease of uttering 
 it." She immediately assumed the most becoming compo- 
 sure of countenance, and spoke as follows : " It is an 
 aggravation of affliction in a married life, that there is a 
 sort of guilt in communicating it : for which reason it is, 
 that a lady of your and my acquaintance, instead of 
 speaking to you herself, desired me the next time I saw 
 you, as you are a professed friend to our sex, to turn your 
 thoughts upon the reciprocal complaisance which is the 
 duty of a married state. 
 
 " My friend was neither in fortune, birth nor education, 
 below the gentleman whom she has married. Her person, 
 her age, and her character, are also such as he can make 
 no exception to. But so it is, that from the moment the 
 marriage ceremony was over, the obsequiousness of a lover 
 was turned into the haughtiness of a master. All the 
 kind endeavours which she uses to please him, are at best 
 but so many instances of her duty. This insolence takes 
 away that secret satisfaction, which does not only excite to 
 virtue, but also rewards it. It abates the fire of a free 
 and generous love, and embitters all the pleasures of a 
 social life." The young lady spoke all this with such an 
 air of resentment, as discovered how nearly she was con- 
 cerned in the distress. 
 
 When I observed she had done speaking, " Madam," 
 said I, " the affliction you mention is the greatest that can 
 happen in human life, and I know but one consolation in it, 
 if that be a consolation, that the calamity is a pretty general 
 one. There is nothing so common as for men to enter 
 into marriage, without so much as expecting to be happy 
 in it. They seem to propose to themselves a few holidays 
 in the beginning of it ; after which they are to return at 
 best to the usual course of their life ; and for aught they 
 know, to constant misery and uneasiness. From this false 
 
 18s 
 
ihe 'Tatler No. 149. March 23, 1709-10 
 
 sense of the state they are going into, proceeds the imme- 
 diate coldness and indifference, or hatred and aversion, 
 which attend ordinary marriages, or rather bargains to 
 cohabit," Our conversation was here interrupted by com- 
 pany which came in upon us. 
 
 The humour of affecting a superior carriage, generally 
 rises from a false notion of the weakness of a female 
 understanding in general, or an overweening opinion that 
 we have of our own : for when it proceeds from a natural 
 ruggedness and brutality of temper, it is altogether incorri- 
 gible, and not to be amended by admonition. Sir Francis 
 Bacon, as I remember, lays it down as a maxim, that no 
 marriage can be happy in which the wife has no opinion 
 of her husband's wisdom ;' but without offence to so great 
 an authority, I may venture to say, that a sullen-wise man is 
 as bad as a good-natured fool. Knowledge, softened with 
 complacency and good breeding, will make a man equally 
 beloved and respected ; but when joined with a severe, 
 distant and unsociable temper, it creates rather fear than 
 love. I who am a bachelor, have no other notion of con- 
 jugal tenderness, but what I learn from books, and shall 
 therefore produce three letters of Pliny,' who was not only 
 one of the greatest, but the most learned men in the whole 
 Roman Empire. At the same time I am very much 
 ashamed, that on such occasions I am obliged to have 
 recourse to heathen authors, and shall appeal to my readers, 
 if they would not think it a mark of a narrow education in 
 a man of quality to write such passionate letters to any 
 woman but a mistress. They were all three written at a 
 time when she was at a distance from him : the first of 
 
 ' Bacon, Essay viii., "Of marriage and single life" : "It is one 
 of the best bonds, both of chastity and obedience, in the wife, if she 
 thinks her husband wise, which she will never do if she finds him 
 jealous." ' "Epist.," vi. 4, 7, 5. 
 
 186 
 
No. 149. March 23, 1709-10 I'he 'Tatler 
 
 them puts me in mind of a married friend of mine, who 
 said, sickness itself is pleasant to a man that is attended 
 in it by one whom he dearly loves. 
 
 Pliny to Calphurnia. 
 "T never was so much offended at business, as when 
 -*■ it hindered me from going with you into the 
 country, or following you thither : for I more particularly 
 wish to be with you at present, that I might be sensible of 
 the progress you make in the recovery of your strength 
 and health ; as also of the entertainment and diversions 
 you can meet with in your retirement. Believe me, it is 
 an anxious state of mind to live in ignorance of what 
 happens to those whom we passionately love. I am not 
 only in pain for your absence, but also for your indisposi- 
 tion. I am afraid of everything, fancy everything, and, 
 as it is the nature of men in fear, I fancy those things 
 most which I am most afraid of. Let me therefore ear- 
 nestly desire you to favour me under these my apprehensions 
 with one letter every day, or, if possible, with two ; for I 
 shall be a little at ease while I am reading your letters, and 
 grow anxious again as soon as I have read them." 
 
 Second Letter. 
 
 *' "VTou tell me that you are very much afflicted at my 
 ■*• absence, and that you have no satisfaction in any- 
 thing but my writings, which you often lay by you upon 
 my pillow. You oblige me very much in wishing to see 
 me, and flaking me your comforter in my absence. In 
 return, I must let you know, I am no less pleased with the 
 letters which you writ to me, and read them over a thousand 
 times with new pleasure. If your letters are capable of 
 giving me so much pleasure, what would your conversation 
 do .'' Let me beg of you to write to me often ; though at 
 
 187 
 
The Trailer No. 149. March 23, 1709-10 
 
 the same time I must confess, your letters give me anguish 
 whilst they give me pleasure." 
 
 third Letter. 
 
 " Tt is impossible to conceive how much I languish for 
 A you in your absence ; the tender love I bear you is 
 the chief cause of this my uneasiness, which is still the 
 more insupportable, because absence is wholly a new thing 
 to us. I lie awake most part of the night in thinking 
 of you, and several times of the day go as naturally to 
 your apartment, as if you were there to receive me ; but 
 when I miss you, I come away dejected, out of humour, 
 and like a man that had suffered a repulse. There is but 
 one part of the day in which I am relieved from this 
 anxiety, and that is when I am engaged in public affairs. 
 
 " You may guess at the uneasy condition of one who 
 has no rest but in business, no consolation but in trouble," 
 
 I shall conclude this paper with a beautiful passage out 
 of Milton,^ and leave it as a lecture to those of my own 
 sex, who have a mind to make their conversation agreeable 
 as well as instructive, to the fair partners who are fallen 
 into their care. Eve, having observed that Adam was 
 entering into some deep disquisitions with the angel, who 
 was sent to visit him, is described as retiring from their 
 company, with a design of learning what should pass there 
 from her husband. 
 
 So spake our sire, and by his countenance seemed 
 
 Entering on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve 
 
 Perceiving where she sat retired in sight. 
 
 With lowliness majestic from her seat 
 
 Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers. 
 
 Tet went she not, as not with such discourse 
 
 ' "Paradise Lost," viii. 39. 
 188 
 
No. 1 50. March 25,1710 I'he 'TutleV 
 
 Delighted, or not capable her ear 
 
 Of what zoas high : such pleasure she reserved, 
 
 Adam relating, she sole auditress ; 
 
 Her husband the relater she preferred 
 
 Before the angel, and of him to ask 
 
 Chose rather : he, she knew, would intermix 
 
 Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
 
 With conjugal caresses ; from his lip 
 
 Not words alone pleased her. O I when meet now 
 
 Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined? 
 
 No. 150. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, March 23, to Saturday, March 25, 17 10. 
 
 Hsec sunt jucundi causa, cibusque mali. 
 
 Ovid, Rem. Amor. 138. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 24. 
 
 I have received the following letter upon the subject of 
 my last paper. The writer of it tells me, I there 
 spoke of marriage as one that knows it only by specula- 
 tion, and for that reason he sends me his sense of it, as 
 drawn from experience : 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " T have read your paper of this day, and think you 
 ■^ have done the nuptial state a great deal of justice in 
 the authority you give us of Pliny, whose letters to his 
 wife you have there translated : but give me leave to tell 
 you, that it is impossible for you, that are a bachelor, to 
 have so just a notion of this way of life, as to touch the 
 affections of your readers in a particular wherein every 
 man's own heart suggests more than the nicest observer 
 can form to himself without experience. I therefore, who 
 am an old married man, have sat down to give you an 
 
 189 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 150, March 25, 17 lo 
 
 account of the matter from my own knowledge, and the 
 observations which I have made upon the conduct of others 
 in that most agreeable or wretched condition, 
 
 "It is very commonly observed, that the most smart 
 pangs which we meet with are in the beginning of wedlock, 
 which proceed from ignorance of each other's humour, 
 and want of prudence to make allowances for a change 
 from the most careful respect to the most unbounded 
 familiarity. Hence it arises, that trifles are commonly 
 occasions of the greatest anxiety ; for contradiction being 
 a thing wholly unusual between a new married couple, the 
 smallest instance of it is taken for the highest injury ; and 
 it very seldom happens, that the man is slow enough in 
 assuming the character of a husband, or the woman quick 
 enough in condescending to that of a wife. It immediately 
 follows, that they think they have all the time of their 
 courtship been talking in masks to each other, and there- 
 fore begin to act like disappointed people. Philander finds 
 Delia ill-natured and impertinent ; and Delia, Philander 
 surly and inconstant. 
 
 " I have known a fond couple quarrel in the very honey- 
 moon about cutting up a tart : nay, I could name two, 
 who after having had seven children, fell out and parted 
 beds upon the boiling of a leg of mutton. My very next 
 neighbours have not spoken to one another these three 
 days, because they differed in their opinions, whether the 
 clock should stand by the window, or over the chimney. 
 It may seem strange to you, who are not a married man, 
 when I tell you how the least trifle can strike a woman dumb 
 for a week together. But if you ever enter into this state, 
 you will find, that the soft sex as often express their anger 
 by an obstinate silence, as by an ungovernable clamour, 
 
 " Those indeed who begin this course of life without 
 jars at their setting out, arrive within few months at a 
 
 190 
 
No. ISO. March 25, 17 lo The TatUr 
 
 pitch of benevolence and afFection, of which the most 
 perfect friendship is but a faint resemblance. As in the 
 unfortunate marriage, the most minute and indiiFerent 
 things are objects of the sharpest resentment ; so in a 
 happy one, they are occasions of the most exquisite satis- 
 faction. For what does not oblige in one we love .'' What 
 does not offend in one we dislike ? For these reasons I 
 take it for a rule, that in marriage, the chief business is to 
 acquire a prepossession in favour of each other. They 
 should consider one another's words and actions with a 
 secret indulgence : there should be always an inward 
 fondness pleading for each other, such as may add new 
 beauties to everything that is excellent, give charms to 
 what is indifferent, and cover everything that is defective. 
 For want of this kind propensity and bias of mind, the 
 married pair often take things ill of each other, which no 
 one else would take notice of in either of them. 
 
 " But the most unhappy circumstance of all is, where 
 each party is always laying up fuel for dissension, and 
 gathering together a magazine of provocations to exas- 
 perate each other with when they are out of humour. 
 These people in common discourse make no scruple to let 
 those who are by know they are quarrelling with one 
 another, and think they are distreet enough, if they conceal 
 from the company the matters which they are hinting at. 
 About a week ago, I was entertained for a whole dinner 
 with a mysterious conversation of this nature ; out of 
 which I could learn no more, than that the husband and 
 wife were angry at one another. We had no sooner sat 
 down, but says the gentleman of the house, in order to 
 raise discourse, ' I thought Margarita' sung extremely well 
 
 1 Francesca Margarita de I'Epine, a native of Tuscany. This 
 celebrated singer performed in many of the earlier Italian operas 
 represented in England. She and Mrs. Tofts were rivals for the 
 
 191 
 
^he Tatler No. 150. March 25, 1710 
 
 last night.' Upon this, says the lady, looking as pale as 
 ashes, ' I suppose she had cherry-coloured ribands' on.' 
 ' No,' answered the husband, with a flush in his face, ' but 
 she had laced shoes.'" I look upon it, that a bystander 
 on such occasions has as much reason to be out of coun- 
 tenance as either of the combatants. To turn oiF my 
 confusion, and seem regardless of what had passed, I 
 desired the servant who attended to give me the vinegar, 
 which unluckily created a new dialogue of hints ; for as 
 far as I could gather by the subsequent discourse, they 
 had dissented the day before about the preference of elder 
 
 public favour, and it seems they divided pretty equally the applause of 
 the town. She sung on the stage, at public entertainments, in con- 
 certs at York Buildings and Stationers' Hall, and once in the hall of 
 the Middle Temple, in a musical performance at the Christmas revels 
 of that society. One Greber, a German musician, who studied some 
 few years in Italy, brought this Italian with him to England, whence 
 she was known by the name of Greber's Peg. It is said that she had 
 afterwards a criminal connection with Daniel Earl of Nottingham. 
 In a shrewd epigram written by Lord Halifax, she is styled " The 
 Tawny Tuscan," and he is called " Tall Nottingham." Margarita 
 continued a singer till about the year 1 71 8, when, having, as Downes 
 relates, scraped together above ten thousand guineas, she retired, and 
 was afterwards married to Dr. Pepusch. The epithet " tawny " was 
 very characteristic of her, for she was remarkably swarthy, and in 
 general so destitute of personal charms, that her husband seldom called 
 her by any other name than Hecate, to which she answered very 
 readily. She died about 1740. See Sir J. Hawkin's "History of 
 Music," vol. V. p. 153 (Nichols). — The statement that she had an 
 improper connection with the Earl of Nottingham appears to rest 
 solely on statements in party poems of the time. 
 
 ^ Ladies wore "commodes" as head-dresses, sometimes backed by 
 dark-coloured ribbons. The prevailing fashion about 17 12 was 
 cherry colour ; see Spectator, No. 271. 
 
 2 In a song in D'Urfey's " Wit and Mirth "— " The Young Maid's 
 Portion " — the lady speaks of her laced shoes of Spanish leather. 
 Malcolm says that Spanish leather shoes laced with gold were common 
 about this time (Planch6's "Cyclopaedia of Costume "). 
 
 192 
 
No. I50. March25, I7IO T' k 6 'Tatlcr 
 
 to wine vinegar. In the midst of their discourse, there 
 appeared a dish of chickens and asparagus, when the 
 husband seemed disposed to lay aside all disputes ; and 
 looking upon her with a great deal of good nature, said, 
 ' Pray, my dear, will you help my friend to a wing of the 
 fowl that lies next you, for I think it looks extremely 
 well.' The lady, instead of answering him, addressing 
 herself to me, ' Pray, sir,' said she, ' do you in Surrey 
 reckon the white- or the black-legged fowls the best ^ ' I 
 found the husband changed colour at the question ; and 
 before I could answer, asked me, whether we did not 
 call hops ' broom ' in our country ? I quickly found, they 
 did not ask questions so much out of curiosity as anger : 
 for which reason I thought fit to keep my opinion to 
 myself, and, as an honest man ought (when he sees two 
 friends in warmth with each other), I took the first 
 opportunity I could to leave them by themselves. 
 
 " You see, sir, I have laid before you only small inci- 
 dents, which are seemingly trivial ; but take it from a man 
 who am very well experienced in this state, they are prin- 
 cipally evils of this nature which make marriages unhappy. 
 At the same time, that I may do justice to this excellent 
 institution, I must own to you, there are unspeakable 
 pleasures which are as little regarded in the computation 
 of the advantages of marriage, as the others are in the 
 usual survey that is made of its misfortunes. 
 
 " Lovemore and his wife live together in the happy pos- 
 session of each other's hearts, and by that means have no 
 indifferent moments, but their whole life is one continued 
 scene of delight. Their passion for each other communi- 
 cates a certain satisfaction, like that which they themselves 
 are in, to all that approach them. When she enters the 
 place where he is, you see a pleasure which he cannot con- 
 ceal, nor he or any one else describe. In so consummate 
 
 VOL. ui. 193 N 
 
I'he Tatler No. 151. March 28, 17 10 
 
 an affection, the very presence of the person beloved has 
 the effect of the most agreeable conversation. Whether 
 they have matter to talk of or not, they enjoy the plea- 
 sures of society, and at the same time the freedom of 
 solitude. Their ordinary life is to be preferred to the 
 happiest moments of other lovers. In a word, they have 
 each of them great merit, live in the esteem of all who 
 know them, and seem but to comply with the opinions 
 of their friends, in the just value they have for each 
 other." 
 
 No. 151. [Steele.* 
 
 From Saturday, March 25, to Tuesday, March 28, 1710. 
 
 Ni vis boni 
 
 In ipsa inesset forma, haec formam extinguerent. 
 
 Ter., Phorm. I. ii. 58. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 27. 
 
 When artists would expose their diamonds to an advan- 
 tage, they usually set them to show in little cases of 
 black velvet. By this means the jewels appear in their true 
 and genuine lustre, while there is no colour that can infect 
 their brightness, or give a false cast to the water. When 
 I was at the opera the other night, the assembly of ladies 
 in mourning' made me consider them in the same kind of 
 view. A dress wherein there is so little variety, shows 
 
 ^ This paper, though not included in Addison's Works, may, as 
 Nichols suggested, be his. Two slight corrections were made in the 
 following number in the folio issue. 
 
 ^ See No. 8, with reference to the long-continued mourning, on 
 the decease of the Queen's husband, George Prince of Denmark, who 
 died in October 1708. Lewis Duke of Bourbon, eldest son to the 
 Dauphin of France, died on March 3, about three weeks before the 
 
 194 
 
No. 151. March 28, I7IO I'he 'Tatler 
 
 the face in all its natural charms, and makes one differ 
 from another only as it is more or less beautiful. Painters 
 are ever careful of offending against a rule which is so 
 essential in all just representation. The chief figure must 
 have the strongest point of light, and not be injured by 
 any gay colourings that may draw away the attention to 
 any less considerable part of the picture. The present 
 fashion obliges everybody to be dressed with propriety, 
 and makes the ladies' faces the principal objects of sight. 
 Every beautiful person shines out in all the excellence with 
 which Nature has adorned her : gaudy ribands and glaring 
 colours being now out of use, the sex has no opportunity 
 given them to disfigure themselves, which they seldom fail 
 to do whenever it lies in their power. When a woman 
 comes to her glass, she does not employ her time in 
 making herself look more advantageously what she really 
 is, but endeavours to be as much another creature as she 
 possibly can. Whether this happens, because they stay so 
 long, and attend their work so diligently, that they forget 
 the faces and persons which they first sat down with, or 
 whatever it is, they seldom rise from the toilet the same 
 women they appeared when they began to dress. What 
 jewel can the charming Cleora place in her ears, that can 
 please her beholders so much as her eyes ^ The cluster of 
 diamonds upon the breast can add no beauty to the fair 
 chest of ivory which supports it. It may indeed tempt a 
 man to steal a woman, but never to love her. Let 
 Thalestris change herself into a motley parti-coloured 
 animal : the pearl necklace, the flowered stomacher, the 
 
 date of this paper. A month before, on February 2, 1709-10, in 
 consequence of a petition presented by the mercers, &c., complaining 
 of their sufferings from the length and frequency of public mourn- 
 ings, leave was given to bring in a Bill for ascertaining and limiting 
 the time of them. 
 
 195 
 
'The T'atler No, 151. March 28, 1710 
 
 artificial nosegay, and shaded furbelow,' may be of use to 
 attract the eye of the beholder, and turn it from the 
 imperfections of her features and shape. But if ladies 
 will take my word for it (and as they dress to please men, 
 they ought to consult our fancy rather than their own in 
 this particular), I can assure them, there is nothing touches 
 our imagination so much as a beautiful woman in a plain 
 dress. There might be more agreeable ornaments found 
 in our own manufacture, than any that rise out of the 
 looms of Persia. 
 
 This, I know, is a very harsh doctrine to womankind, 
 who are carried away with everything that is showy, and 
 with what delights the eye, more than any other species of 
 living creatures whatsoever. Were the minds of the sex laid 
 open, we should find the chief idea in one to be a tippet, 
 in another a muff, in a third a fan, and in a fourth a 
 farthingale. The memory of an old visiting lady is so filled 
 with gloves, silks, and ribands, that I can look upon it as 
 nothing else but a toy-shop. A matron of my acquaint- 
 ance complaining of her daughter's vanity, was observing, 
 that she had all of a sudden held up her head higher than 
 ordinary, and taken an air that showed a secret satisfaction 
 in herself, mixed with a scorn of others, " I did not know," 
 says my friend, "what to make of the carriage of this 
 fantastical girl, until I was informed by her elder sister, that 
 she had a pair of striped garters on," This odd turn of 
 mind often makes the sex unhappy, and disposes them to 
 be struck with everything that makes a show, however 
 trifling and superficial. 
 
 Many a lady has fetched a sigh at the toss of a wig, and 
 been ruined by the tapping of a snuflF-box, It is impos- 
 
 ' The furbelow was a puckered flounce ornamenting the dress. 
 D'Urfey wrote a play, " The Old Mode and the New, or Country 
 Miss with her Furbelow." 
 
 196 
 
No. 151. March 28, 17 lo T'ke I'atler 
 
 sible to describe all the execution that was done by the 
 shoulder-knot' while that fashion prevailed, or to reckon up 
 all the virgins that have fallen a sacrifice to a pair of fringed 
 gloves.'' A sincere heart has not made half so many con- 
 quests as an open waistcoat,' and I should be glad to see 
 an able head make so good a figure in a woman's company 
 as a pair of red heels." A Grecian hero,' when he was 
 asked whether he could play upon the lute, thought he 
 had made a very good reply when he answered, " No, but 
 I can make a great city of a little one." Notwithstanding 
 his boasted wisdom, I appeal to the heart of any toast in 
 town, whether she would not think the lutenist preferable 
 to the statesman. I do not speak this out of any aversion 
 that I have to the sex : on the contrary, I have always 
 had a tenderness for them ; but I must confess, it troubles 
 me very much to see the generality of them place their 
 affections on improper objects, and give up all the pleasures 
 of life for gewgaws and trifles. 
 
 Mrs. Margery BickerstafF, my great aunt, had a thou- 
 sand pounds to her portion, which our family was desirous 
 of keeping among themselves, and therefore used all 
 possible means to turn off her thoughts from marriage. 
 The method they took was, in any time of danger to 
 throw a new gown or petticoat in her way. When she 
 was about twenty-five years of age, she fell in love with 
 a man of an agreeable temper, and equal fortune, and 
 would certainly have married him, had not my grandfather, 
 Sir Jacob, dressed her up in a suit of flowered satin ; 
 upon which, she set so immoderate a value upon herself, 
 that the lover was contemned and discarded. In the 
 
 ^ Introduced from France at the Restoration. 
 
 ^ Gloves with silver fringe round the wrists. A Fringe-Glove Club 
 is mentioned in No. 30 of the Spectator. 
 
 ^ See No. 95. * See No. 45. ^ Themistocles. 
 
 197 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 151. March 28, 1710 
 
 fortieth year of her age, she was again smitten, but very 
 luckily transferred her passion to a tippet, which was 
 presented to her by another relation who was in the plot. 
 This, with a white sarcenet hood, kept her safe in the 
 family till fifty. About sixty, which generally produces a 
 kind of latter spring' in amorous constitutions, my Aunt 
 Margery had again a colt's-tooth^ m her head, and would 
 certainly have eloped from the mansion-house, had not her 
 brother Simon, who was a wise man, and a scholar, advised 
 to dress her in cherry-coloured ribands,' which was the 
 only expedient that could have been found out by the wit 
 of man to preserve the thousand pounds in our family, 
 part of which I enjoy at this time. 
 
 This discourse puts me in mind of a humorist men- 
 tioned by Horace,* called Eutrapelus, who, when he 
 designed to do a man a mischief, made him a present of 
 a gay suit ; and brings to my memory another passage of 
 the same author, when he describes the most ornamental 
 dress that a woman can appear in with two words, simplex 
 munditiis^ which I have quoted for the benefit of my 
 female readers. 
 
 ' Cf. " I Henry IV." act i. sc. 2, where Prince Hal says to Falstaff, 
 " Farewell, thou latter spring ! " 
 
 " A love of youthful pleasure. Cf. " Henry VIH." act i. sc. 3, 
 " Well said, Lord Sands, 
 Your colt's tooth is not cast yet." 
 ^ See No. 150. * i Epist. xviii. 31. ^ i Od. v. 5. 
 
 198 
 
No. 152. March 30,1710 I'he l' a tier 
 
 No. 152. [Addison. 
 
 From Tuesday, March 28, to Thursday, March 30, 17 10. 
 
 Di, quibus imperium est animarum, Umbrseque silentes, 
 Et Chaos, et Phlegethon, loca nocte silentia late. 
 Sit mihi fas audita loqui ; sit numine vestro 
 Pandere resalta terra et caligine mersas. 
 
 ViRC, jEn. vi. 264. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 29. 
 
 A man who confines his speculations to the time pre- 
 sent, has but a very narrow province to employ his 
 thoughts in. For this reason, persons of studious and 
 contemplative natures often entertain themselves with the 
 history of past ages, or raise schemes and conjectures upon 
 futurity. For my own part, I love to range through that 
 half of eternity which is stiU to come, rather than look 
 on that which is already run out ; because I know I have 
 a real share and interest in the one, whereas all that was 
 transacted in the other can be only matter of curiosity to 
 me. 
 
 Upon this account, I have been always very much 
 delighted with meditating on the soul's immortality, and 
 in reading the several notions which the wisest of men, 
 both ancient and modern, have entertained on that subject. 
 "What the opinions of the greatest philosophers have been, 
 I have several times hinted at, and shall give an account 
 of them from time to time as occasion requires. It may 
 likewise be worth while to consider, what men of the 
 most exalted genius, and elevated imagination, have 
 thought of this matter. Among these. Homer stands up 
 as a prodigy of mankind, that looks down upon the rest 
 of human creatures as a species beneath him. Since he 
 
 199 
 
'The Tatler No. 152. March 30, 1 710 
 
 is the most ancient heathen author, we may guess from his 
 relation, what were the common opinions in his time 
 concerning the state of the soul after death. 
 
 Ulysses, he tells us, made a voyage to the regions of the 
 dead, in order to consult Tiresias how he should return to 
 his own country, and recommend himself to the favour of 
 the gods. The poet scarce introduces a single person, 
 who does not suggest some useful precept to his reader, 
 and designs his description of the dead for the amendment 
 of the living. 
 
 Ulysses, after having made a very plenteous sacrifice, 
 sat him down by the pool of holy blood, which attracted a 
 prodigious assembly of ghosts of all ages and conditions, 
 that hovered about the hero, and feasted upon the steams 
 of his oblation. The first he knew, was the shade of 
 Elpenor, who, to show the activity of a spirit above that 
 of body, is represented as arrived there long before 
 Ulysses, notwithstanding the winds and seas had con- 
 tributed all their force to hasten his voyage thither. This 
 Elpenor, to inspire the reader with a detestation of 
 drunkenness, and at the same time with a religious care of 
 doing proper honours to the dead, describes himself as 
 having broken his neck in a debauch of wine ; and begs 
 Ulysses, that for the repose of his soul, he would build a 
 monument over him, and perform funeral rites to his 
 memory. Ulysses with great sorrow of heart promises to 
 fulfil his request, and is immediately diverted to an object 
 much more moving than the former. The ghost of his 
 own mother Anticlea, whom he still thought living, appears 
 to him among the multitude of shades that surrounded 
 him, and sits down at a small distance from him by the 
 lake of blood, without speaking to him, or knowing who 
 he was. Ulysses was exceedingly troubled at the sight, 
 and could not forbear weeping as he looked upon her ; 
 
 zoo 
 
No. 152. March 30, 17 10 I'he 'Tatlcr 
 
 but being all along set forth as a pattern of consummate 
 wisdom, he makes his affection give way to prudence ; 
 and therefore, upon his seeing Tiresias, does not reveal 
 himself to his mother, till he had consulted that great 
 prophet, who was the occasion of this his descent into the 
 empire of the dead. Tiresias having cautioned him to 
 keep himself and his companions free from the guilt of 
 sacrilege, and to pay his devotions to all the gods, pro- 
 mises him a safe return to his kingdom and family, and 
 a happy old age in the enjoyment of them. 
 
 The poet having thus with great art kept the curiosity 
 of his reader in suspense, represents his wise man, after the 
 despatch of his business with Tiresias, as yielding himself 
 up to the calls of natural affection, and making himself 
 known to his mother. Her eyes are no sooner opened, but 
 she cries out in tears, " Oh my son ! " and inquires into 
 the occasions that brought him thither, and the fortune 
 that attended him. 
 
 Ulysses on the other hand desires to know, what the 
 sickness was that had sent her into those regions, and the 
 condition in which she had left his father, his son, and 
 more particularly his wife. She tells him, they were all 
 three inconsolable for his absence ; " and as for myself," 
 says she, " that was the sickness of which I died. My 
 impatience for your return, my anxiety for your welfare, 
 and my fondness for my dear Ulysses, were the only dis- 
 tempers that preyed upon my life, and separated my soul 
 from my body." Ulysses was melted with these ex- 
 pressions of tenderness, and thrice endeavoured to catch 
 the apparition in his arms, that he might hold his mother 
 to his bosom and weep over her. 
 
 This gives the poet occasion to describe the notion the 
 heathens at that time had of an unbodied soul, in the excuse 
 which the mother makes for seeming to withdraw herself 
 
 201 
 
T'he T'atler No. 152. March 30, 1 710 
 
 from her son's embraces. " The soul," says she, " is com- 
 posed neither of bones, flesh, nor sinews, but leaves 
 behind her all those encumbrances of mortality to be con- 
 sumed on the funeral pile. As soon as she has thus cast 
 her burden she makes her escape, and flies away from it 
 like a dream." 
 
 When this melancholy conversation is at an end, the 
 poet draws up to view. as charming a vision as could enter 
 into man's imagination. He describes the next who 
 appeared to Ulysses, to have been the shades of the finest 
 women that had ever lived upon the earth, and who had 
 either been the daughters of kings, the mistresses of gods, 
 or mothers of heroes, such as Antiope, Alcmena, Leda, 
 Ariadne, Iphimedia, Eriphyle, and several others of whom 
 he gives a catalogue, with a short history of their adven- 
 tures. The beautiful assembly of apparitions were all 
 gathered together about the blood : " each of them," says 
 Ulysses (as a gentle satire upon female vanity), " giving me 
 an account of her birth and family." This scene of 
 extraordinary women seems to have been designed by the 
 poet as a lecture of mortality to the whole sex, and to put 
 them in mind of what they must expect, notwithstanding 
 the greatest perfections, and highest honours, they can 
 arrive at. 
 
 The circle of beauties at length disappeared, and was 
 succeeded by the shades of several Grecian heroes who had 
 been engaged with Ulysses in the siege of Troy. The 
 first that approached was Agamemnon, the generalissimo 
 of that great expedition, who at the appearance of his old 
 friend wept very bitterly, and without saying anything to 
 him, endeavoured to grasp him by the hand. Ulysses, 
 who was much moved at the sight, poured out a flood of 
 tears, and asked him the occasion of his death, which 
 Agamemnon related to him in all its tragical circumstances ; 
 
 aoz 
 
No. 152. March 30, 1 710 I'hc T'atUr 
 
 how he was murdered at a banquet by the contrivance of 
 his own wife, in confederacy with her advdterer : from 
 whence he takes occasion to reproach the whole sex, after 
 a manner which would be inexcusable in a man who had 
 not been so great a sufferer by them. " My wife," says 
 he, " has disgraced all the women that shall ever be born 
 into the world, even those who hereafter shall be innocent. 
 Take care how you grow too fond of your wife. Never 
 tell her all you know. If you reveal some things to her, 
 be sure you keep others concealed from her. You indeed 
 have nothing to fear from your Penelope, she will not use 
 you as my wife has treated me ; however, take care how 
 you trust a woman." The poet, in this and other instances, 
 according to the system of many heathen as well as 
 Christian philosophers, shows how anger, revenge, and 
 other habits which the soul had contracted in the body, 
 subsist and grow in it under its stage of separation. 
 
 I am extremely pleased with the companions which the 
 poet in the next description assigns to Achilles. " Achilles, 
 says the hero, " came up to me with Patroclus and 
 Antilochus." By which we may see that it was Homer's 
 opinion, and probably that of the age he lived in, that the 
 friendships which are made among the living will likewise 
 continue among the dead. Achilles inquires after the wel- 
 fare of his son, and of his father, with a fierceness of the 
 same character that Homer has everywhere expressed in 
 the actions of his life. The passage relating to his son is 
 so extremely beautiful, that I must not omit it. Ulysses, 
 after having described him as wise in council and active in 
 war, and mentioned the foes whom he had slain in battle, 
 adds an observation that he himself had made of his 
 behaviour whilst he lay in the wooden horse. " Most of 
 the generals," says he, " that were with us either wept or 
 trembled : as for your son, I neither saw him wipe a tear 
 
 203 
 
T'he T'atler No. 152. March 30, 17 lo 
 
 from his cheeks, nor change his countenance. On the con- 
 trary, he would often lay his hand upon his sword, or 
 grasp his spear, as impatient to employ them against the 
 Trojans." He then informs his father of the great honour 
 and rewards which he had purchased before Troy, and of 
 his return from it without a wound. The shade of 
 Achilles, says the poet, was so pleased with the account he 
 received of his son, that he inquired no further, but stalked 
 away with more than ordinary majesty over the green 
 meadow that lay before them. 
 
 This last circumstance of a deceased father's rejoicing in 
 the behaviour of his son is very finely contrived by Homer, 
 as an incentive to virtue, and made use of by none that I 
 know besides himself. 
 
 The description of Ajax, which follows, and his refusing 
 to speak to Ulysses, who had won the armour of Achilles 
 from him, and by that means occasioned his death, is 
 admired by every one that reads it. When Ulysses relates 
 the suUenness of his deportment, and considers the great- 
 ness of the hero, he expresses himself with generous and 
 noble sentiments. " Oh ! that I had never gained a prize 
 which cost the life of so brave a man as Ajax ! Who, for 
 the beauty of his person, and greatness of his actions, was 
 inferior to none but the divine Achilles." The same noble 
 condescension, which never dwells but in truly great minds, 
 and such as Homer would represent that of Ulysses to have 
 been, discovers itself likewise in the speech which he made 
 to the ghost of Ajax on that occasion, " O Ajax ! " says 
 he, " will you keep your resentments even after death } 
 What destructions hath this fatal armour brought upon 
 the Greeks, by robbing them of you, who were their bul- 
 wark and defence .'' Achilles is not more bitterly lamented 
 among us than you. Impute not then your death to any 
 one but Jupiter, who out of his anger to the Greeks, took 
 
 Z04 
 
No. 153- Apriii,i7io I'he Tatler 
 
 you away from among them : let me entreat you to 
 approach me ; restrain the fierceness of your wrath, and 
 the greatness of your soul, and hear what I have to say to 
 you." Ajax, without making a reply, turned his back 
 upon him, and retired into a crowd of ghosts. 
 
 Ulysses, after all these visions, took a view of those 
 impious wretches who lay in tortures for the crimes they 
 had committed upon the earth, whom he describes under 
 the varieties of pain, as so many marks of divine 
 vengeance, to deter others from following their example. 
 He then tells us that notwithstanding he had a great 
 curiosity to see the heroes that lived in the ages before him, 
 the ghosts began to gather about him in such prodigious 
 multitudes, and with such a confusion of voices, that his 
 heart trembled as he saw himself amidst so great a scene 
 of horrors. He adds, that he was afraid lest some hideous 
 spectre should appear to him, that might terrify him to 
 distraction ; and therefore withdrew in time. 
 
 I question not but my reader will be pleased with this 
 description of a future state, represented by such a noble 
 and fruitful imagination, that had nothing to direct it 
 besides the light of nature, and the opinions of a dark and 
 ignorant age. 
 
 No. 153. [Addison. 
 
 From Thursday, March 30, to Saturday, April i, 17 10. 
 
 Bambalio, clangor, stridor, taratantara, murmur. — Farn., Rhet. 
 
 From my own Apartment, March 31. 
 
 I have heard of a very valuable picture, wherein all the 
 painters of the age in which it was drawn are 
 represented sitting together in a circle, and joining in a 
 
 Z05 
 
'The Tatler No. 153. April 1,1710 
 
 concert of music. Each of them plays upon such a 
 particular instrument as is the most suitable to his 
 character, and expresses that style and manner of painting 
 which is peculiar to him. The famous cupola-painter of 
 those times, to show the grandeur and boldness of his 
 figures, has a horn in his mouth, which he seems to wind 
 with great strength and force. On the contrary, an 
 eminent artist, who wrought up his pictures with the 
 greatest accuracy, and gave them all those delicate touches 
 which are apt to please the nicest eye, is represented as 
 tuning a theorbo. The same kind of humour runs 
 through the whole piece. 
 
 I have often from this hint imagined to myself, that 
 different talents in discourse might be shadowed out after 
 the same manner by different kinds of music ; and that 
 the several conversable parts of mankind in this great city 
 might be cast into proper characters and divisions, as they 
 resemble several instruments that are in use among the 
 masters of harmony. Of these therefore in their order, 
 and first of the drum. 
 
 Your drums are the blusterers in conversation, that with 
 a loud laugh, unnatural mirth, and a torrent of noise, 
 domineer in public assemblies, overbear men of sense, stun 
 their companions, and fill the place they are in with a rat- 
 tling sound, that has seldom any wit, humour, or good 
 breeding in it. The drum notwithstanding, by this 
 boisterous vivacity, is very proper to impose upon the 
 ignorant ; and in conversation with ladies who are not of 
 the finest taste, often passes for a man of mirth and wit, 
 and for wonderful pleasant company. I need not observe, 
 that the emptiness of the. drum very much contributes to 
 its noise. 
 
 The lute is a character directly opposite to the drum, 
 that sounds very finely by itself, or in a very small concert. 
 
 zo6 
 
No. 153- Aprili.iyio I'ke T'dtUr 
 
 Its notes are exquisitely sweet, and very low, easily drowned 
 in a multitude of instruments, and even lost among a few, 
 unless you give a particular attention to it. A lute is seldom 
 heard in a company of more than five, whereas a drum will 
 show itself to advantage in an assembly of five hundred. 
 The lutenists therefore are men of a fine genius, uncom- 
 mon reflection, great afi^ability, and esteemed chiefly by 
 persons of a good taste, who are the only proper judges of 
 so delightful and soft a melody. 
 
 The trumpet is an instrument that has in it no compass 
 of music or variety of sound, but is notwithstanding very 
 agreeable, so long as it keeps within its pitch. It has not 
 above four or five notes, which are however very pleasing, 
 and capable of exquisite turns and modulations. The 
 gentlemen who fall under this denomination, are your men 
 of the most fashionable education and refined breeding, 
 who have learned a certain smoothness of discourse, and 
 sprightliness of air, from the polite company they have 
 kept ; but at the same time they have shallow parts, weak 
 judgments, and a short reach of understanding : a play- 
 house, a drawing-room, a ball, a visiting-day, or a Ring at 
 Hyde Park, are the few notes they are masters of, which 
 they touch upon in aU conversations. The trumpet how- 
 ever is a necessary instrument about a Court, and a proper 
 enlivener of a concert, though of no great harmony by 
 itself. 
 
 Violins are the lively, forward, importunate wits that 
 distinguish themselves by the flourishes of imagination, 
 sharpness of repartee, glances of satire, and bear away the 
 upper part in every concert. I cannot however but olwerve 
 that, when a man is not disposed to hear music, there is 
 not a more disagreeable sound in harmony than that of a 
 violin. 
 
 There is another musical instrument, which is more 
 
 207 
 
'The Tatler No. 153. April 1,1710 
 
 frequent in this nation than any other ; I mean your bass- 
 viol, which grumbles in the bottom of the concert, and 
 with a surly masculine sound strengthens the harmony, 
 and tempers the sweetness of the several instruments that 
 •play along with it. The bass-viol is an instrument of a 
 quite different nature to the trumpet, and may signify 
 inen of rough sense, and unpolished parts, who do not 
 love to hear themselves talk, but sometimes break out 
 with an agreeable bluntness, unexpected wit, and surly 
 pleasantries, to the no small diversion of their friends and 
 companions. In short, I look upon every sensible true- 
 born Briton to be naturally a bass-viol. 
 
 As for your rural wits, who talk with great eloquence 
 and alacrity of foxes, hounds, horses, quickset hedges, and 
 six-bar gates, double ditches, and broken necks, I am in 
 doubt, whether I should give them a place in the con- 
 versable world. However, if they will content themselves 
 with being raised to the dignity of hunting-horns, I snail 
 desire for the future that they may be known by that 
 name. 
 
 I must not here omit the bagpipe species, that wiU enter- 
 tain you from morning to night with the repetition of the 
 few notes, which are played over and over, with the per- 
 petual humming of a drone running underneath them. 
 These are your dull, heavy, tedious storytellers, the load 
 and burden of conversations, that set up for men of 
 importance, by knowing secret history, and giving an 
 account of transactions, that whether they ever passed in 
 the world or not, does not signify a halfpenny to its 
 instruction, or its welfare. Some have observed, that the 
 northern parts of this island are more particularly fruitful 
 in bagpipes. 
 
 There are so very few persons who are masters in every 
 kind of conversation, and can talk on all subjects, that I 
 
 208 
 
No. 153- April 1,17 lo T'he 'Tatler 
 
 don't know whether we should make a distinct species of 
 them : nevertheless, that my scheme may not be defective, 
 for the sake of those few who are endowed with such extra- 
 ordinary talents, I shall allow them to be harpsichords, a 
 kind of music which every one knows is a concert by itself. 
 
 As for your passing-bells, who look upon mirth as 
 criminal, and talk of nothing but what is melancholy in 
 itself, and mortifying to human nature, I shall not mention 
 them. 
 
 I shall likewise pass over in silence all the rabble of man- 
 kind that crowd our streets, coffee-houses, feasts, and public 
 tables. I cannot call their discourse conversation, but rather 
 something that is practised in imitation of it. For which 
 reason, if I would describe them by any musical instru- 
 ment, it should be by those modern inventions of the 
 bladder and string, tongs and key, marrow-bone and 
 cleaver. 
 
 My reader will doubtless observe, that I have only 
 touched here upon male instruments, having reserved 
 my female concert to another occasion. If he has a mind 
 to know where these several characters are to be met with, 
 I could direct him to a whole club of drums ; not to 
 mention another of bagpipes, which I have before given 
 some account of in my description of our nightly meetings 
 in Sheer Lane. The lutes may often be met with in 
 couples upon the banks of a crystal stream, or in the 
 retreats of shady woods and flowery meadows ; which for 
 different reasons are likewise the great resort of your 
 hunting-horns. Bass-viols are frequently to be found 
 over a glass of stale beer and a pipe of tobacco ; whereas 
 those who set up for violins, seldom fail to make their 
 appearance at Will's once every evening. You may meet 
 with a trumpet anywhere on the other side of Charing 
 Cross. 
 
 VOL. III. 209 O 
 
T'he T'atler No. 153. April 1,1710 
 
 That we may draw something for our advantage in life 
 out of the foregoing discourse, I must entreat my reader 
 to make a narrow search into his life and conversation, 
 and upon his leaving any company, to examine himself 
 seriously, whether he has behaved himself in it like a drum 
 or a trumpet, a violin or a bass-viol ; and accordingly 
 endeavour to mend his music for the future. For my own 
 part, I must confess, I was a drum for many years ; nay, and 
 a very noisy one, till having polished myself a little in good 
 company, I threw as much of the trumpet into my conver- 
 sation as was possible for a man of an impetuous temper, 
 by which mixture of different musics, I look upon myself, 
 during the course of many years, to have resembled a tabor 
 and pipe. I have since very much endeavoured at the 
 sweetness of the lute ; but in spite of all my resolutions, I 
 must confess with great confusion, that I find myself daily 
 degenerating into a bagpipe ; whether it be the effect of 
 my old age, or of the company I keep, I know hot. All 
 that I can do, is to keep a watch over my conversation, and 
 to silence the drone as soon as I find it begin to hum in my 
 discourse, being determined rather to hear the notes of 
 others, than to play out of time, and encroach upon their 
 parts in the concert by the noise of so tiresome an 
 instrument. 
 
 I shall conclude this paper with a letter which I received 
 last night from a friend of mine, who knows very well 
 my notions upon this subject, and invites me to pass the 
 evening at his house with a select company of friends, 
 in the following words : 
 
 "Dear Isaac, 
 
 " T intend to have a concert at my house this evening, 
 
 -■- having by great chance got a harpsichord, which I 
 
 am sure will entertain you very agreeably. There will be 
 
 2IO 
 
No. 154. April 4,17 lo The TatUv 
 
 likewise two lutes and a trumpet : let me beg you to put 
 yourself in tune, and believe me 
 
 " Your very faithful Servant, 
 
 "Nicholas Humdrum."' 
 
 No. 154. [Addison. 
 
 From Saturday^ April 1, to Tuesday, April ^, 17 10. 
 
 Obscuris vera involvens. — Virc, ^n. vi. 100. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 3. 
 
 We have already examined Homer's description of a 
 future state, and the condition in which he has 
 placed the souls of the deceased. I shall in this paper make 
 some observations on the account which Virgil has given 
 us of the same subject, who, besides a greatness of genius, 
 had all the lights of philosophy and human learning to 
 assist and guide him in his discoveries. 
 
 -Slneas is represented as descending into the empire of 
 death, with a prophetess by his side, who instructs him in 
 the secrets of those lower regions. 
 
 Upon the confines of the dead, and before the very 
 gates of this infernal world, Virgil describes' several 
 inhabitants, whose natures are wonderfully suited to the 
 situation of the place, as being either the occasions or re- 
 semblances of death. Of the first kind are the shadows' of 
 Sickness, Old Age, Fear, Famine, and Poverty (apparitions 
 very terrible to behold) ; with several others, as Toil, War, 
 Contention, and Discord, which contribute all of them to 
 people this common receptacle of human souls. As this 
 
 ' See No. 157. ' « jjath placed " (folio). 
 
 « " Pale shadows " (folio). 
 211 
 
'The Tatler No. 154. April 4,1710 
 
 was likewise a very proper residence for everything that 
 resembles death, the poet tells us, that Sleep, whom he 
 represents as a near relation to Death, has likewise his 
 habitation in these quarters, and describes in them a huge 
 gloomy elm-tree, which seems a very proper ornament for 
 the place, and is possessed by an innumerable swarm of 
 Dreams, that hang in clusters under every leaf of it. He 
 then gives us a list of imaginary persons, who very natur- 
 ally lie within the shadow of the dream-tree, as being of 
 the same kind of make in themselves, and the materials or 
 (to use Shakespeare's phrase) the stuff of which dreams are 
 made. Such are the shades of the giant with a hundred 
 hands, and of his brother with three bodies ; of the double- 
 shaped Centaur and Scylla ; the Gorgon with snaky hair ; 
 the Harpy with a woman's face and lion's talons ; the seven- 
 headed Hydra ; and the Chimaera, which breathes forth a 
 flame, and is a compound of three animals. These several 
 mixed natures, the creatures of imagination, are not only 
 introduced with great art after the dreams ; but as they are 
 planted at the very entrance, and within the very gates of 
 those regions, do probably denote the wild deliriums and 
 extravagances of fancy, which the Soul usually falls into 
 when she is just upon the verge of death. 
 
 Thus far ^neas travels in an allegory. The rest of 
 the description is drawn with great exactness, according 
 to the religion of the heathens, and the opinions of the 
 platonic philosophy. I shall not trouble my reader with 
 a common dull story, that gives an account why the 
 heathens first of all supposed a ferryman in hell, and his 
 name to be Charon ; but must not pass over in silence 
 the point of doctrine which Virgil has very much insisted 
 upon in this book, that the souls of those who are un- 
 buried, are not permitted to go over into their respective 
 places of rest till they have wandered a hundred years 
 
 2IZ 
 
No. 154. April 4,17 lo I'he T'atler 
 
 upon the banks of Styx. This was probably an invention 
 of the heathen priesthood, to make the people extremely 
 careful of performing proper rites and ceremonies to the 
 memory of the dead. I shall not, however, with the 
 infamous scribblers of the age, take an occasion from such 
 a circumstance, to run into declamations against priest- 
 craft, but rather look upon it even in this light as a 
 religious artifice, to raise in the minds of men an esteem 
 for the memory of their forefathers, and a desire to 
 recommend themselves to that of posterity; as also to 
 excite in them an ambition of imitating the virtues of the 
 deceased, and to keep alive in their thoughts the sense 
 of the soul's immortality. In a word, we may say in 
 defence of the severe opinions relating to the shades of 
 unburied persons, what has been said by some of our 
 divines in regard to the rigid doctrines concerning the 
 souls of such who die without being initiated into our 
 religion, that supposing they should be erroneous, they 
 can do no hurt to the dead, and will have a good effect 
 upon the living, in making them cautious of neglecting 
 such necessary solemnities. 
 
 Charon is no sooner appeased, and the triple-headed dog 
 laid asleep, but ^neas makes his entrance into the do- 
 minions of Pluto, There are three kinds of persons 
 described as being situated on the borders ; and I can give 
 no reason for their being stationed there in so particular a 
 manner, but because none of them seem to have had a 
 proper right to a place among the dead, as not having 
 run out the whole thread of their days, and finished 
 the term of life that had been allotted them upon earth. 
 The first of these are the souls of infants, who are snatched 
 away by untimely ends : the second, are of those who are 
 put to death wrongfully, and by an unjust sentence ; and 
 the third, of those who grew weary of their lives, and laid 
 
 213 
 
I'he T'atler No. 154. April 4,1710 
 
 violent hands upon themselves. As for the second of 
 these, Virgil adds with great beauty, that Minos, the judge 
 of the dead, is employed in giving them a rehearing, and 
 assigning them their several quarters suitable to the parts 
 they acted in life. The poet, after having mentioned the 
 souls of -those unhappy men who destroyed themselves, 
 breaks out into a fine exclamation : " Oh, how gladly," 
 says he, " would they now endure life with all its miseries ! 
 But the Destinies forbid their return to earth, and the 
 waters of Styx surround them with nine streams that 
 are unpassable." It is very remarkable, that Virgil, 
 notwithstanding self-murder was so frequent among 
 the heathens, and had been practised by some of the 
 greatest men in the very age before him, has here repre- 
 sented it as so heinous a crime. But in this particular 
 he was guided by the doctrines of his great master Plato, 
 who says on this subject, that a man is placed in his 
 station of life like a soldier in his proper post, which he 
 is not to quit whatever may happen, until he is called 
 oiF by his commander who planted him in it. 
 
 There is another point in. the platonic philosophy, 
 which Virgil has made the groundwork of the greatest 
 part in the piece we are now examining, having with 
 wonderful art and beauty materialised, if I may so call 
 it, a scheme of abstracted notions, and clothed the most 
 nice refined conceptions of philosophy in sensible images 
 and poetical representations. The Platonists tell us, that 
 the Soul, during her residence in the body, contracts many 
 virtuous and vicious habits, so as to become a beneficent, 
 mild, charitable, or an angry, malicious, revengeful being : 
 a substance inflamed with lust, avarice, and pride ; or, on 
 the contrary, brightened with pure, generous, and humble 
 dispositions : that these and the like habits of virtue 
 and vice growing into the very essence of the Soul, 
 
 214 
 
No. 154. April 4,17 lo I'he 'TatUr 
 
 survive and gather strength in her after her dissolution : 
 that the torments of a vicious soul in a future state arise 
 principally from those importunate passions which are 
 not capable of being gratified without a body ; and that 
 on the contrary, the happiness of virtuous minds very 
 much consists in their being employed in sublime specu- 
 lations, innocent diversions, sociable affections, and all 
 the ecstasies of passion and rapture which are agreeable 
 to reasonable natures, and of which they gained a relish 
 in this life. 
 
 Upon this foundation, the poet raises that beautiful 
 description of the secret haunts and walks which he tells 
 us are inhabited by deceased lovers. 
 
 " Not far from hence," says he, " lies a great waste of 
 plains, that are called, the ' fields of melancholy.' In these 
 grows a forest of myrtle, divided into many shady retire- 
 ments and covered walks, and inhabited by the souls of 
 those who pined away with love. The passion," says he, 
 " continues with them after death." He then gives a list 
 of this languishing tribe, in which his own Dido makes 
 the principal figure, and is described as living in this soft 
 romantic scene with the shade of her first husband 
 Sichaeus.' 
 
 The poet in the next place mentions another plain that 
 was peopled with the ghosts of warriors, as still delighting 
 in each other's company, and pleased with the exercise 
 of arms. He there represents the Grecian generals and 
 common soldiers who perished in the siege of Troy as 
 drawn up in squadrons, and terrified at the approach of 
 .ffineas, which renewed in them those impressions of fear 
 they had before received in battle with the Trojans. He 
 afterwards likewise, upon the same notion, gives a view 
 of the Trojan heroes who lived in former ages, amidst a 
 
 ^ See No. 133. 
 215 
 
I' he Trailer No. 154. April 4,1710 
 
 visionary scene of chariots and arms, flowery meadows, 
 shining spears, and generous steeds, which he tells us were 
 their pleasures upon earth, and now make up their happi- 
 ness in Elysium. For the same reason also, he mentions 
 others as singing paeans, and songs of triumph, amidst a 
 beautiful grove of laurel. The chief of the concert was 
 the poet Musaeus, who stood enclosed with a circle of 
 admirers, and rose by the head and shoulders above the 
 throng of shades that surrounded him. The habitations 
 of unhappy spirits, to show the duration of their torments, 
 and the desperate condition they are in, are represented as 
 guarded by a fury, moated round with a lake of fire, 
 strengthened with towers of iron, encompassed with a 
 triple wall, and fortified with pillars of adamant, which all 
 the gods together are not able to heave from their founda- 
 tions. The noise of stripes, the clank of chains, and the 
 groans of the tortured, strike the pious ^neas with a kind 
 of horror. The poet afterwards divides the criminals into 
 two classes : the first and blackest catalogue consists of 
 such as were guilty of outrages against the gods ; and the 
 next, of such who were convicted of injustice between man 
 and man : the greatest number of whom, says the poet, 
 are those who followed the dictates of avarice. 
 
 It was an opinion of the Platonists, that the souls of 
 men having contracted In the body great stains and pollu- 
 tions of vice and ignorance, there were several purgations 
 and cleansings necessary to be passed through both here 
 and hereafter, in order to refine and purify them.' 
 
 Virgil, to give this thought likewise a clothing of poetry, 
 describes some spirits as bleaching in the winds, others 
 as cleansing under great falls of waters, and others as 
 purging in fire to recover the primitive beauty and purity 
 of their natures. 
 
 ' " Purify the soul from ignorance and vice " (folio). 
 216 
 
No. 154. April 4,17 lo I'he I'atler 
 
 It was likewise an opinion of the same sect of philoso- 
 phers, that the souls of all men exist in a separate state, 
 long before their union with their bodies ; and that upon 
 their immersion into flesh, they forget everything which 
 passed in the state of pre-existence ; so that what we here 
 call knowledge, is nothing else but memory, or the recovery 
 of those things which we knew before. 
 
 In pursuance of this scheme, Virgil gives us a view of 
 sever^ souls, who, to prepare themselves for living upon 
 earth, flock about the banks of the river Lethe, and swill 
 themselves with the waters of oblivion. 
 
 The same scheme gives him an opportunity of making 
 a noble compliment to his countrymen, where Anchises is 
 represented taking a survey of the long train of heroes 
 that are to descend from him, and giving his son ^neas an 
 account of all the glories of his race. 
 
 I need not mention the revolution of the platonic year,' 
 which is but just touched upon in this book ; and as I 
 have consulted no author's thoughts in this explication, 
 shall be very well pleased, if it can make the noblest piece 
 of the most accomplished poet more agreeable to my 
 female readers, when they think fit to look into Dryden's 
 translation of it. 
 
 ' The Great or Platonic Year is the time in which the fixed stars 
 make their revolution. See Cicero, " De Natura Deorum," ii. zo. 
 
 217 
 
T'h e I' a tie r No. 155. April 6, 1 7 10 
 
 No. 155. [Addison. 
 
 From Tuesday, April 4, to "Thursday, April 6, 1710. 
 
 Aliena negotia curat, 
 
 Excussus propriis. — Hor., 2 Sat. iii, 19. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 5. 
 
 There lived some years since within my neighbourhood 
 a very grave person, an upholsterer,' 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 on 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 Tostman ; 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' 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 
 
 ' The original of the Political Upholsterer ofNos. 155, 160 and 178 
 is said to have been an Edward Arne, of Covent Garden. It is clear that 
 he cannot — as some have said — be the same person as the Arne at 
 whose house the Indian kings lodged (see No. 171). Steele was 
 attacked in the Examiner (vol. i. No. 1 1, vol. iv. No, 40) for the 
 liberties here taken by Addison. 
 
 218 
 
No. 155. April 6, 1710 T'he 'Tatler 
 
 about the time that his favourite prince left the crown of 
 Poland, he broke and disappeared. 
 
 This man and his affairs had been long out of my mind, 
 till 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 uphol- 
 sterer ! I saw he was reduced to extreme poverty, by 
 certain shabby superfluities in his dress : for notwith- 
 standing 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 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 
 anything 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," 
 says I, " the bullet chanced to light there." 
 
 This extraordinary dialogue was no sooner ended, but 
 he began to launch out into a long dissertation upon the 
 affairs of the North ; and after having spent some time on 
 them, he told me, he was in a great perplexity how to 
 
 219 
 
T'he T'atler No. 155. April 6,1710 
 
 reconcile the Supplement with the English Post, and had 
 been just now examining what the other papers say upon 
 the same subject. "The Daily Courant" says he, "has 
 these words, 'We have advices from very good hands, 
 that a certain prince has some matters of great importance 
 under consideration.' This is very mysterious ; but the 
 Postboy leaves us more in the dark, for he tells us, that 
 there are private intimations of measures taken by a certain 
 prince, which time will bring to light. Now the Postman" 
 says he, " who used to be very clear, refers to the same 
 news in these words : ' The late conduct of a certain prince 
 affords great matter of speculation.' This certain prince," 
 says the upholsterer, " whom they are all so cautious of 
 
 naming, I take to be " . Upon which, though there 
 
 was nobody near us, he whispered something in my ear, 
 which I did not hear, or think worth my while to make 
 him repeat. 
 
 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. 
 
 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 be- 
 lieved could not but be prejudicial to our woollen manufac- 
 ture. He then told us, that he looked upon those extra- 
 ordinary revolutions which had lately happened in these 
 parts of the world, to have risen chiefly from two 
 
 220 
 
No. 155- Aprii6, lyio The T'atler 
 
 persons who were not much talked of ; " and those," says 
 he, " are Prince MenzikofF and the Duchess of Mirandola." 
 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. 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 when- 
 ever such a war does break out, it must turn to the good 
 of the Leeward Islands. Upon this, one who sat at the end 
 of the bench, and, as I afterwards found, was the geo- 
 grapher of the company, said, that in case the Papists 
 should drive the Protestants from these parts of Europe, 
 when the worst came to the worst, it would be impossible 
 to beat them out of Norway and Greerdand, provided the 
 Northern crowns hold together, and the Czar of Muscovy 
 stand neuter. 
 
 He further told us for our comfort, that there were vast 
 tracts of land about the Pole, inhabited neither by Protes- 
 tants nor Papists, and of greater extent than all the Roman 
 Catholic dominions in Europe. 
 
 When we had fully discussed this point, my friend the 
 upholsterer began to exert himself upon the present nego- 
 tiations 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 been gone thirty yards, before the 
 upholsterer hemmed again after me. Upon his advancing 
 
 2ZI 
 
'The Tatler No. 156. Aprils, 1710 
 
 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 particular benefit of those 
 worthy citizens who live more in a coffee-house than in 
 their shops, and whose thoughts are so taken up with the 
 affairs of the Allies, that they forget their customers. 
 
 No. ic6. [Addison. 
 
 From Thursday, April 6, to Saturday, April 8, 1710. 
 
 Sequiturque patrem non passibus asquis. 
 
 ViRG., .<En. ii. 724. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 7. 
 
 We have already described out of Homer the voyage 
 of Ulysses to the Infernal Shades, with the several 
 adventures that attended it.' If we look into the beautiful 
 romance published not many years since by the Arch- 
 bishop of Cambray,' we may see the son of Ulysses bound 
 on the same expedition, and after the same manner making 
 his discoveries among the regions of the dead. The story 
 of Telemachus is formed altogether in the spirit of Homer, 
 
 ' See No. 152. ^ Fenelon's « T^le'maque." 
 
 222 
 
No. 156. Aprils, 17 lo T'he TutUr 
 
 and will give an unlearned reader a notion of that great 
 poet's manner of writing, more than any translation of 
 him can possibly do. As it was written for the instruction 
 of a young prince, who may one day sit upon the throne 
 of France, the author took care to suit the several parts 
 of his story, and particularly the description we are now 
 entering upon, to the character and quality of his pupil. 
 For which reason, he insists very much on the misery of 
 bad, and the happiness of good kings, in the account he 
 has given of punishments and rewards in the other 
 world. 
 
 We may however observe, notwithstanding the endea- 
 vours of this great and learned author to copy after the 
 style and sentiments of Homer, that there is a certain 
 tincture of Christianity running through the whole rela- 
 tion. The prelate in several places mixes himself with the 
 poet ; so that his future state puts me in mind of Michael 
 Angelo's " Last Judgment," where Charon and his boat are 
 represented as bearing a part in the dreadful solemnities of 
 that great day. 
 
 Telemachus, after having passed through the dark 
 avenues of death in the retinue of Mercury, who every 
 day delivers up a certain tale of ghosts to the ferryman 
 of Styx, is admitted into the infernal bark. Among the 
 companions of his voyage, is the shade of Nabopharzon, 
 a king of Babylon, and tyrant of all the East. Among 
 the ceremonies and pomps of his funeral, there were four 
 slaves sacrificed, according to the custom of the country, 
 in order to attend him among the shades. The author 
 having described this tyrant in the most odious colours of 
 pride, insolence, and cruelty, tells us, that his four slaves, 
 instead of serving him after death, were perpetually insult- 
 ing him with reproaches and affronts for his past usage ; 
 that they spurned him as he lay upon the ground, and 
 
 223 
 
'The Tatler No. 156. Aprils, 17 lo 
 
 forced him to show his face, which he would fain have 
 covered, as lying under all the confusions of guilt and 
 infamy ; and in short, that they kept him bound in a 
 chain, in order to drag him before the tribunal of the 
 dead. 
 
 Telemachus, upon looking out of the bark, sees all the 
 strand covered with an innumerable multitude of shades, 
 who, upon his jumping ashore, immediately vanished. 
 He then pursues his course to the palace of Pluto, who 
 is described as seated on his throne in terrible majesty, 
 with Proserpine by his side. At the foot of his 
 throne was the pale hideous spectre, who, by the ghast- 
 liness of his visage, and the nature of the apparitions that 
 surrounded him, discovers himself to be Death. His 
 attendants are. Melancholy, Distrust, Revenge, Hatred, 
 Avarice, Despair, Ambition, Envy, Impiety, with frightful 
 Dreams, and waking Cares, which are aJl drawn very 
 naturally in proper actions and postures. The author, 
 with great beauty, places near his Frightful Dreams an 
 assembly of phantoms, which are often employed to 
 terrify the living, by appearing In the shape and likeness 
 of the dead. 
 
 The young hero in the next place takes a survey of 
 the different kinds of criminals that lay in torture among 
 clouds of sulphur and torrents of fire. The first of 
 these were such as had been guilty of impieties, which 
 every one has a horror for : to which is added, a 
 catalogue of such ofi^enders that scarce appear to be 
 faulty in the eyes of the vulgar. Among these, says the 
 author, are malicious critics, that have endeavoured to 
 cast a blemish upon the perfections of others ; with 
 whom he likewise places such as have often hurt the 
 reputation of the innocent, by passing a rash judgment 
 on their actions, without knowing the occasion of them. 
 
 224 
 
No. 156. April 8, 1710 "The 'Tatler 
 
 These crimes, says he, are more severely punished after 
 death, because they generally meet with impunity upon 
 earth. 
 
 Telemachus, after having taken a survey of several 
 other wretches in the same circumstances, arrives at that 
 region of torments in which wicked kings are punished. 
 There are very fine strokes of imagination in the 
 description which he gives of this unhappy multitude. 
 He tells us, that on one side of them there stood a revenge- 
 ful fury, thundering in their ears incessant repetitions of 
 all the crimes they had committed upon earth, with the 
 aggravations of ambition, vanity, hardness of heart, and 
 all those secret affections of mind that enter into the 
 composition of a tyrant. At the same time, she holds up 
 to them a large mirror, in winch every one sees himself 
 represented in the natural horror and deformity of his 
 character. On the other side of them stands another 
 fury, that with an insulting derision repeats to them 
 all the praises that their flatterers had bestowed upon 
 them while they sat upon their respective thrones. She 
 too, says the author, presents a mirror before their eyes, 
 in which every one sees himself adorned with all those 
 beauties and perfections in which they had been drawn by 
 the vanity of their own hearts, and the flattery of others. 
 To punish them for the wantonness of the cruelty which 
 they formerly exercised, they are now delivered up to be 
 treated according to the fancy and caprice of several slaves, 
 who have here an opportunity of tyrannising in their turns. 
 
 The author having given us a description of these 
 ghastly spectres, who, says he, are always calling upon 
 Death, and are placed under the distillation of that 
 burning vengeance which falls upon them drop by drop, 
 and is never to be exhausted, leads us into a pleasing 
 scene of groves, filled with the melody of birds, and the 
 
 VOL. III. 225 P 
 
^he Trailer No. 156. Aprils, 1 710 
 
 odours of a thousand difFerent plants. These groves 
 are represented as rising among a great many flowery 
 meadows, and watered with streams that diflFuse a per- 
 petual freshness, in the midst of an eternal day, and 
 a never-fading spring. This, says the author, was the 
 habitation of those good princes who were friends of 
 the gods, and parents of the people. Among these, 
 Telemachus converses with the shade of one of his 
 ancestors, who makes a most agreeable relation of the 
 joys of Elysium, and the nature of its inhabitants. The 
 residence of Sesostris among these happy shades, with his 
 character and present employment, is drawn in a very 
 lively manner, and with a great elevation of thought. 
 
 The description of that pure and gentle light which 
 overflows these happy regions, .and clothes the spirits of 
 these virtuous persons, has something in it of that enthu- 
 siasm which this author was accused of by his enemies in 
 the Church of Rome ; but however it may look in religion, 
 it makes a very beautiful figure in poetry. 
 
 The. rays of the sun, says he, are darkness in com- 
 parison with this light, which rather deserves the name 
 of glory, than that of light. It pierces the thickest 
 bodies, in the same manner as the sunbeams pass through 
 crystal : it strengthens the sight instead of dazzling it ; 
 and nourishes in the most inward recesses of the mind, a 
 perpetual serenity that is not to be expressed. It enters 
 and incorporates itself with the very substance of the soul : 
 the spirits of the blessed feel it in all their senses, and in 
 all their perceptions. It produces a certain source of 
 peace and joy that arises in them for ever, running through 
 all the faculties, and refreshing all the desires of the soul. 
 External pleasures and delights, with all their charms and 
 allurements, are regarded with the utmost indifl^erence 
 and neglect by these happy spirits who have this great 
 
 226 
 
No. 157. April II, I7IO The T'dtUr 
 
 principle of pleasure within them, drawing the whole mind 
 to itself, calling off their attention from the most delightful 
 objects, and giving them all the transports of inebriation, 
 without the confusion and the folly of it. 
 
 I have here only mentioned some master-touches of this 
 admirable piece, because the original itself is understood 
 by the greater part of my readers. I must confess, I take 
 a particular delight in these prospects of futurity, whether 
 grounded upon the probable suggestions of a fine imagina- 
 tion, or the more severe conclusions of philosophy ; as a 
 man loves to hear all the discoveries or conjectures 
 relating to a foreign country which he is, at some time, to 
 inhabit. Prospects of this nature lighten the burden of 
 any present evil, and refresh us under the worst and lowest 
 circumstances of mortality. They extinguish in us both 
 the fear and envy of human grandeur. Insolence shrinks 
 its head. Power disappears ; Pain, Poverty and Death fly 
 before them. In short, the mind that is habituated to the 
 lively sense of a hereafter, can hope for what is the most 
 terrifying to the generality of mankind, and rejoice in 
 what is the most aiBicting. 
 
 No. 157. [Addison.' 
 From Saturday, April 8, to Tuesday, April 11, 17 10. 
 Facile est inventis addere. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 10. 
 
 I was last night in an assembly of very fine women. How 
 I came among them is of no great importance to the 
 reader. I shall only let him know, that I was betrayed 
 
 ^ This paper is not included in Tickell's edition of Addison's Works ; 
 but Steele ascribes it to Addison in his Dedication of " The Drummer" 
 to Congreve. 
 
 ^^^J 
 
I'he Tatler No. 157. April 11,1710 
 
 into so good company by the device of an old friend, who 
 had promised to give some of his female acquaintance a sight 
 of Mr. BickerstafF. Upon hearing my name mentioned, a 
 lady who sat by me told me, they had brought together a 
 female concert for my entertainment. " You must know," 
 says she, " that we all of us look upon ourselves to be 
 musical instruments,' though we do not yet know of what 
 kind, which we hope to learn from you, if you will give 
 us leave to play before you." This was followed by a 
 general laugh, which I always look upon as a necessary 
 flourish in the opening of a female concert. They then 
 struck up together, and played a whole hour upon two 
 grounds, viz., the Trial,' and the Opera. I could not but 
 observe, that several of their notes were more soft, and 
 several more sharp, than any that ever I heard in a male 
 concert ; though I must confess, there was not any regard 
 to time, nor any of those rests and pauses which are 
 frequent in the harmony of the other sex : besides, that 
 the music was generally full, and no particular instrument 
 permitted to play long by itself. 
 
 I seemed so very well pleased with what every one said, 
 and smiled with so much compliance at all their pretty 
 fancies, that though I did not put one word into their 
 discourse, I have the vanity to think they looked upon 
 me as very agreeable company. I then told them, that 
 if I were to draw the picture of so many charming 
 musicians, it should be like one I had seen of the Muses, 
 with their several instruments in their hands. Upon which 
 the lady kettledrum tossed back her head, and cried, " A 
 very pretty simile !" The concert again revived ; in which, 
 with nods, smiles, and approbations, I bore the part rather 
 of one who beats the time, than of a performer. 
 
 I was no sooner retired to my lodgings, but I ran over 
 1 See No. 153. ^ The trial of Dr. Sacheverell. 
 
 228 
 
No. 157. April II, 1710 The 'Tatler 
 
 in my thoughts the several characters of this fair assembly, 
 which I shall give some account of, because they are 
 various in their kind, and may each of them stand as a 
 sample of a whole species. 
 
 The person who pleased me most was a flute, an 
 instrument that, without any great compass, has some- 
 thing exquisitely sweet and soft in its sound : it lulls 
 and soothes the ear, and fills it with such a gentle kind 
 of melody, as keeps the mind awake without startling 
 it, and raises a most agreeable passion between transport 
 and indolence. In short, the music of the flute is the 
 conversation of a mild and amiable woman, that has 
 nothing in it very elevated, or at the same time anything 
 mean or trivial. 
 
 I must here observe, that the hautboy is the most 
 perfect of the flute species, which, with all the sweetness 
 of the sound, has a great strength and variety of notes ; 
 though at the same time I must observe, that the haut- 
 boy in one sex is as scarce as the harpsichord in the other. 
 
 By the side of the flute there sat a flageolet, for so 
 I must call a certain young lady, who fancied herself a 
 wit, despised the music of the flute as low and insipid, 
 and would be entertaining the company with tart ill- 
 natured observations, pert fancies, and little turns, which 
 she imagined to be full of life and spirit. The flageolet 
 therefore does not difi^er from the flute so much in the 
 compass of its notes, as in the shrillness and sharpness of 
 the sound. We must however take notice, that the 
 flageolets among their own sex are more valued and 
 esteemed than the flutes. 
 
 There chanced to be a coquette in the concert, that 
 with a great many skittish notes, affected squeaks, and 
 studied inconsistencies, distinguished herself from the rest 
 of the company. She did not speak a word during the 
 
 229 
 
'The Tatler No. 157. April 11,1710 
 
 whole trial ; but I thought she would never have done 
 upon the opera. One while she would break out upon, 
 "That hideous king! " then upon the "charming black- 
 moor ! " Then, " Oh that dear lion!" Then would hum 
 over two or three notes ; then run to the window to 
 see what coach was coming. The coquette therefore I 
 must distinguish by that musical instrument which is 
 commonly known by the name of a kit, that is more 
 jiggish than the fiddle itself, and never sounds but to a 
 dance. 
 
 The fourth person who bore a part In the conversation 
 was a prude, who stuck to the trial, and was silent upon 
 the whole opera. The gravity of her censures, and com- 
 posure of her voice, which were often attended with 
 supercilious casts of the eye, and a seeming contempt for 
 the lightness of the conversation, put me in mind of that 
 ancient serious matronlike instrument the virginal. 
 
 I must not pass over in silence a Lancashire hornpipe, 
 by which I would signify a young country lady, who with a 
 great deal of mirth and innocence diverted the company very 
 agreeably ; and, if I am not mistaken, by that time the wild- 
 ness of her notes is a little softened, and the redundancy of 
 her music restrained by conversation and good company, 
 will be improved into one of the most amiable flutes 
 about the town. Your romps and boarding-school girls 
 fall likewise under this denomination. 
 
 On the right hand of the hornpipe sat a Welsh harp, an 
 instrument which very much delights in the tunes of old 
 historical ballads, and in celebrating the renowned actions 
 and exploits of ancient British heroes. By this instrument 
 I therefore would describe a certain lady, who is one of 
 those female historians that upon all occasions enters into 
 pedigrees and descents, and finds herself related, by some 
 offshoot or other, to almost every great family in JEngland : 
 
 230 
 
No. 157- April II, lyio T'he T'atler 
 
 for which reason she jars and is out of tune very often in 
 conversation, for the company's want of due attention 
 and respect to her. 
 
 But the most sonorous part of our concert was a she- 
 drum, or (as the vulgar call it) a kettledrum, who accom- 
 panied her discourse with motions of the body, tosses 
 of the head, and brandishes of the fan. Her music was 
 loud, bold, and masculine. Every thump she gave, 
 alarmed the company, and very often set somebody or 
 other in it a-blushing. 
 
 The last I shall mention was a certain romantic instru- 
 ment called a dulcimer, who talked of nothing but shady 
 woods, flowery meadows, purling streams, larks and 
 nightingales, with all the beauties of the spring, and the 
 pleasures of a country life. This instrument has a fine 
 melancholy sweetness in it, and goes very well with the flute. 
 
 I think most of the conversable part of womankind 
 may be found under one of the foregoing divisions ; but 
 it must be confessed, that the generality of that sex, 
 notwithstanding they have naturally a great genius for 
 being talkative, are not mistresses of more than one note ; 
 with which however, by frequent repetition, they make a 
 greater sound than those who are possessed of the whole 
 gamut, as may be observed in your larums or household 
 scolds, and in your castanets or impertinent tittle-tattles, 
 who have no other variety in their discourse but that of 
 talking slower or faster. 
 
 Upon communicating this scheme of music to an old 
 friend of mine, who was formerly a man of gallantry and 
 a rover, he told me, that he believed he had been in love 
 with every instrument in my concert. The first that 
 smit him was a hornpipe, who lived near his father's 
 house in the country ; but upon his failing to meet her 
 at an assize, according to appointment, she cast him oflF. 
 
 231 
 
The Tatler No. 157. April n, 1710 
 
 His next passion was for a kettledrum, whom he fell in 
 love with at a play ; but when he became acquainted 
 with her, not finding the softness of her sex in her con- 
 versation, he grew cool to her ; though at the same time 
 he could not deny, but that she behaved herself very much 
 like a gentlewoman. His third mistress was a dulcimer, 
 who he found took great delight in sighing and languish- 
 ing, but would go no farther than the preface of matri- 
 mony ; so that she would never let a lover have any more 
 of her than her heart, which, after having won, he was 
 forced to leave her, as despairing of any further success. 
 " I must confess," says my friend, " I have often considered 
 her with a great deal of admiration ; and I find her 
 pleasure is so much in this first step of an amour, that her 
 life will pass away in dream, solitude, and soliloquy, till 
 her decay of charms makes her snatch at the worst man 
 that ever pretended to her. In the next place," says my 
 friend, " I fell in love with a kit,' who led me such a dance 
 through all the varieties of a familiar, cold, fond, and 
 indifferent behaviour, that the world began to grow cen- 
 sorious, though without any cause : for which reason, to 
 recover our reputations, we parted by consent. To mend my 
 hand," says he, " I made my next application to a virginal, 
 who gave me great encouragement, after her cautious 
 manner, till some malicious companion told her of my 
 long passion for the kit, which made her turn me ofF as a 
 scandalous fellow. At length, in despair," says he, "I betook 
 myself to a Welsh harp, who rejected me with contempt, 
 after having found that my great-grandmother was a 
 brewer's daughter." I found by the sequel of my friend's 
 discourse, that he had never aspired to a hautboy; that he 
 had been exasperated by a flageolet ; and that to this very 
 day, he pines away for a flute. 
 
 ^ See Nos. 34 and 160. 
 232 
 
No. 157. April II, lyio I'he 'Tathv 
 
 Upon the whole, having thoroughly considered how 
 absolutely necessary it is, that two instruments, which are 
 to play together for life, should be exactly tuned, and go 
 in perfect concert with each other, I would propose 
 matches between the music of both sexes, according to the 
 following table of marriage : 
 
 1. Drum and kettledrum. 
 
 2. Lute and flute. 
 
 3. Harpsichord and hautboy. 
 
 4. Violin and flageolet. 
 
 5. Bass-viol and kit. 
 
 6. Trumpet and Welsh harp. 
 
 7. Hunting-horn and hornpipe. 
 
 8. Bagpipe and castanets. 
 
 9. Passing-bell and virginal. 
 
 Mr. Bickerstafi^, in consideration of his ancient friend- 
 ship and acquaintance with Mr. Betterton,^ and great 
 esteem for his merit, summons all his disciples, whether 
 dead or living, mad or tame. Toasts, Smarts, Dappers, Pretty 
 Fellows, Musicians or Scrapers, to make their appear- 
 ance at the playhouse in the Haymarket on Thursday 
 next ; when there will be a play acted for the benefit of 
 the said Mr. Betterton. 
 
 ^ See Nos. i, 71, 167. 
 
 233 
 
T'he T'atler No. 158. April 13, 1710 
 
 No. 158. [Addison. 
 
 From Tuesday, Afril ii, to Thursday, April 13, 1710. 
 
 Faciunt nx intelligendo, ut nihil intelligant. 
 
 Ter., Andria, Prologue, 17. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 12. 
 
 Tom Folio * is a broker in learning, employed to get 
 together good editions, and stock the libraries of 
 great men. There is not a sale of books begins till Tom 
 Folio is seen at the door. There is not an auction where 
 his name is not heard, and that too in the very nick of 
 time, in the critical moment, before the last decisive stroke 
 of the hammer. There is not a subscription goes forward, 
 in which Tom is not privy to the first rough draught of 
 the proposals ; nor a catalogue printed, that does not 
 come to him wet from the press. He is an universal 
 scholar, so far as the title-page of all authors, knows the 
 manuscripts in which they were discovered, the editions 
 through which they have passed, with the praises or censures 
 which they have received from the several members of the 
 learned world. He has a greater esteem for Aldus and 
 Elzevir, than for Virgil and Horace. If you talk of 
 Herodotus, he breaks out into a panegyric upon Harry 
 Stephans. He thinks he gives you an account of an 
 author, when he tells you the subject he treats of, the 
 name of the editor, and the year in which it was printed. 
 Or if you draw him into further particulars, he cries up 
 the goodness of the paper, extols the diligence of the 
 
 ^ The original of Tom Folio is supposed to be Thomas Rawlinson, 
 a great book-collector, who lived in Gray's Inn, and afterwards in 
 London House, Aldersgate Street, where he died, August 6, 1725, 
 aged 44. His library and MSS. were sold between 1722 and 1734. 
 
 234 
 
No. 158. April 13, lyio The Tutler 
 
 corrector, and is transported with the beauty of the letter. 
 This he looks upon to be sound learning and substantial 
 criticism. As for those who talk of the fineness of style, 
 and the justness of thought, or describe the brightness of 
 any particular passages ; nay, though they write themselves 
 in the genius and spirit of the author they admire, Tom 
 looks upon them as men of superficial learning, and flashy 
 parts, 
 
 I had yesterday morning a visit from this learned idiot 
 (for that is the light in which I consider every pedant), 
 when I discovered in him some little touches of the cox- 
 comb which I had not before observed. Being very full 
 of the figure which he makes in the republic of letters, 
 and wonderfully satisfied with his great stock of know- 
 ledge, he gave me broad intimations, that he did not 
 " believe " in all points as his forefathers had done. He 
 then communicated to me a thought of a certain author 
 upon a passage of Virgil's account of the dead, which I 
 made the subject of a late paper.' This thought has 
 taken very much among men of Tom's pitch and under- 
 standing, though universally exploded by all that know how 
 to construe Virgil, or have any relish of antiquity. Not 
 to trouble my reader with it, I found upon the whole, that 
 Tom did not believe a future state of rewards and punish- 
 ments, because iEneas, at his leaving the empire of the 
 dead, passed through the gate of ivory, and not through 
 that of horn. Knowing that Tom had not sense enough 
 to give up an opinion which he had once received, that 
 he might avoid wrangling, I told him, that Virgil possibly 
 had his oversights as well as another author. " Ah ! Mr. 
 BickerstaiF," says he, " you would have another opinion of 
 him, if you would read him in Daniel Heinsius' edition. 
 I have perused him myself several times in that edition," 
 
 ' No. 154. 
 23s 
 
'The Tatler No. 158. April 13, 1710 
 
 continued he ; " and after the strictest and most malicious 
 examination, could find but two faults in him : one of 
 them is in the '^Eneids,' where there are two commas 
 instead of a parenthesis ; and another in the third ' Georgic,' 
 where you may find a semicolon turned upside down." 
 " Perhaps," said I, " these were not Virgil's thoughts, but 
 those of the transcriber." " I do not design it," says 
 Tom, " as a reflection on Virgil : on the contrary, I know 
 that all the manuscripts 'reclaim' against such a punctuation. 
 Oh ! Mr. BickerstafF," says he, " what would a man give 
 to see one simile of Virgil writ in his own hand "i " I 
 asked him which was the simile he meant ; but was 
 answered, " Any simile in Virgil." He then told me all 
 the secret history in the commonwealth of learning ; of 
 modern pieces that had the names of ancient authors 
 annexed to them ; of all the books that were now writing 
 or printing in the several parts of Europe ; of many 
 amendments which are made, and not yet published ; and 
 a thousand other particulars, which I would not have my 
 memory burdened with for a Vatican. 
 
 At length, being fully persuaded that I thoroughly 
 admired him, and looked upon him as a prodigy of learning, 
 he took his leave. I know several of Tom's class who are 
 professed admirers of Tasso without understanding a word 
 of Italian; and one in particular, that carries a " Pastor Fido" 
 in his pocket, in which I am sure he is acquainted with no 
 other beauty but the clearness of the character. 
 
 There is another kind of pedant, who, with all Tom 
 Folio's impertinences, has greater superstructures and 
 embellishments of Greek and Latin, and is still more 
 unsupportable than the other, in the same degree as he is 
 more learned. Of this kind very often are editors, 
 commentators, interpreters, scholiasts, and critics ; and in 
 short, all men of deep learning without common sense. 
 
 236 
 
No. 158. April 13,1710 T'he T'atler 
 
 These persons set a greater value on themselves for having 
 found out the meaning of a passage in Greek, than upon 
 the author for having written it ; nay, will allow the 
 passage itself not to have any beauty in it, at the same 
 time that they would be considered as the greatest men of 
 the age for having interpreted it. They will look with 
 contempt upon the most beautiful poems that have been 
 composed by any of their contemporaries ; but will lock 
 themselves up in their studies for a twelvemonth together, 
 to correct, publish, and expound, such trifles of antiquity 
 as a modern author would be contemned for. Men of the 
 strictest morals, severest lives, and the gravest professions, 
 will write volumes upon an idle sonnet that is originally in 
 Greek or Latin ; give editions of the most immoral authors, 
 and spin out whole pages upon the various readings of a 
 lewd expression. All that can be said in excuse for them, 
 is, that their works sufficiently show they have no taste of 
 their authors ; and that what they do in this kind, is out 
 of their great learning, and not out of any levity or 
 lasciviousness of temper. 
 
 A pedant of this nature is wonderfully well described In 
 six lines of Boileau, ' with which I shall conclude his 
 character : 
 
 " Un Pedant enivre de sa vaine science, 
 Tout herisse de grec, tout bouffi d'' arrogance, 
 Et qui, de mille auteurs retenus mot pour mot, 
 Dans sa the entasses, n'a souvent fait qu'un sot, 
 Croit qu^un livre fait tout, et que, sans Aristote, 
 La raison ne voit goutte, et le bon sens radote.'' 
 
 ' Satire iv. : " Les foHes humaines." 
 
 237 
 
I'he T^atler No. 159. April 15,1710 
 
 No. 159. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, April 13, to Saturday, April 15, 17 10. 
 
 Nitor in adversum, nee me qui caetera, vincit 
 Impetus. — Ovid., Met. ii. 72. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 14. 
 
 The wits of this island, for above fifty years past, 
 instead of correcting the vices of the age, have done 
 all they could to inflame them. Marriage has been one of 
 the common topics of ridicule that every stage-scribbler 
 has found his account in ; for whenever there is an 
 occasion for a clap, an impertinent jest upon matrimony is 
 sure to raise it. This has been attended with very 
 pernicious consequences. Many a country squire, upon 
 his setting up for a man of the town, has gone home in 
 the gaiety of his heart and beat his wife. A kind husband 
 has been looked upon as a clown, and a good wife as a 
 domestic animal, unfit for the company or conversation 
 of the beau m-onde. In short, separate beds, silent tables, 
 and solitary homes have been introduced by your men of 
 wit and pleasure of the age. 
 
 As I shall always make it my business to stem the 
 torrents of prejudice and vice, I shall take particular care 
 to put an honest father of a family in countenance, and 
 endeavour to remove all the evils out of that state of life, 
 which is either the most happy, or most miserable, that a 
 man can be placed in. In order to this, let us, if you please, 
 consider the wits and well-bred persons of former times. 
 I have shown in another paper ,^ that Pliny, who was a man 
 of the greatest genius, as well as of the first quality of his 
 
 ' No. 149. 
 238 
 
No. 159. April 15, lyio T'he T'utler 
 
 age, did not think it below him to be a kind husband, and 
 to treat his wife as a friend, companion and counsellor. 
 I shall give the like instance of another, who in all respects 
 was a much greater man than Pliny, and has written a 
 whole book of letters to his wife. They are not so fuU of 
 turns as those translated out of the former author, who 
 writes very much like a modern, but are full of that 
 beautiful simplicity which is altogether natural, and is the 
 distinguishing character of the best ancient writers. The 
 author I am speaking of, is Cicero ; who, in the following 
 passages which I have taken out of his letters,' shows, that 
 he did not think it inconsistent with the politeness of his 
 manners, or the greatness of his wisdom, to stand upon 
 record in his domestic character. 
 
 These letters were written at a time when he was 
 banished from his country, by a faction that then prevailed 
 at Rome. 
 
 Cicero to Terentia. 
 
 " T learn from the letters of my friends, as well as from 
 -■■ common report, that you give incredible proofs of 
 virtue and fortitude, and that you are indefatigable in all 
 kinds of good offices. How unhappy a man am I, that a 
 woman of your virtue, constancy, honour, and good 
 nature, should fall into so great distresses upon my 
 account ; and that my dear Tulliola should be so much 
 afflicted for the sake of a father, with whom she had once 
 so much reason to be pleased ! How can I mention little 
 Cicero, whose first knowledge of things began with the 
 sense of his own misery .'' If all this had happened by the 
 decrees of fate, as you would kindly persuade me, I could 
 have borne it. But, alas ! it is all befallen me by my own 
 ' "Epist." xiv. 1-4. 
 239 
 
T'he 'Tatier No. 159. April 15, 1710 
 
 indiscretion, who thought I was beloved by those who 
 envied me, and did not join with them who sought my 
 
 friendship. At present, since my friends bid me hope, 
 
 I shall take care of my health, that I may enjoy the benefit 
 
 of your aifectionate services. Plancius hopes we may 
 
 some time or other come together into Italy. If I ever live 
 to see that day ; if I ever return to your dear embraces ; in 
 short, if I ever again recover you and myself, I shall think 
 
 our conjugal piety very well rewarded. As for what you 
 
 write to me about selling your estate, consider (my dear 
 Terentia), consider, alas ! what would be the event of it. 
 If our present fortune continues to oppress us, what will 
 become of our poor boy ? My tears flow so fast, that I am 
 not able to write any further ; and I would not willingly 
 
 make you weep with me. Let us take care not to undo 
 
 the child that is already undone : if we can leave him any- 
 thing, a little virtue will keep him from want, and a little 
 fortune raise him in the world. Mind your health, and let 
 
 me know frequently what you are doing. Remember 
 
 me to TuUiola and Cicero. 
 
 II. 
 
 " "r\on't fancy that I write longer letters to any one than 
 ■^-^ to yourself, unless when I chance to receive a longer 
 letter from another, which I am indispensably obliged 
 to answer in every particular. The truth of it is, I have 
 no subject for a letter at present : and as my affairs now 
 stand, there is nothing more painful to me than writing. 
 As for you and our dear Tulliola, I cannot write to you 
 without abundance of tears, for I see both of you miserable, 
 whom I always wished to be happy, and whom I ought to 
 
 have made so. 1 must acknowledge, you have done 
 
 everything for me with the utmost fortitude, and the 
 utmost affection ; nor indeed is it more than I expected 
 
 240 
 
No. 159- April 15,1710 The 'Tatler 
 
 from you ; though at the same time it is a great aggrava- 
 tion of my i]l fortune, that the afflictions I suffer can be 
 relieved only by those which you undergo for my sake. For 
 honest Valerius has written me a letter, which I could not 
 read without weeping very bitterly ; wherein he gives me 
 an account of the public procession which you have made 
 for me at Rome. Alas ! my dearest life, must then 
 Terentia, the darling of my soul, whose favour and recom- 
 mendations have been so often sought by others ; must my 
 Terentia droop under the weight of sorrow, appear in the 
 habit of a mourner, pour out floods of tears, and all this 
 for my sake ; for my sake, who have undone my family, 
 
 by consulting the safety of others ! As for what you 
 
 write about selling your house, I am very much afflicted, 
 that what is laid out upon my account may any way reduce 
 you to misery and want. If we can bring about our design, 
 we may indeed recover everything ; but if Fortune persists in 
 persecuting us, how can I think of your sacrificing for me 
 the poor remainder of your possessions ? No, my dearest 
 life, let me beg you to let those bear my expenses who are 
 able, and perhaps willing to do it ; and if you would show 
 your love to me, do not injure your health, which is already 
 too much impaired. You present yourself before my eyes 
 day and night ; I see you labouring amidst innumerable 
 difficulties ; I am afraid lest you should sink under them ; 
 but I find in you all the qualifications that are necessary 
 to support you : be sure therefore to cherish your health, 
 that you may compass the end of your hopes and your 
 
 endeavours. Farewell, my Terentia, my heart's desire, 
 
 farewell." 
 
 in. 
 
 " A ristocritus has delivered to me three of your letters, 
 
 ■**• which I have almost defaced with my tears. Oh ! 
 
 my Terentia, I am consumed with grief, and feel the weight 
 
 VOL. III. 241 Q 
 
The Tatler No. 159. April 15,1710 
 
 of your sufferings more than of my own. I am more 
 miserable than you are, notwithstanding you are very much 
 so ; and that for this reason, because though our calamity 
 is common, it is my fault that brought it upon us. I ought 
 to have died rather than have been driven out of the city : 
 I am therefore overwhelmed not only with grief, but with 
 shame. I am ashamed that I did not do my utmost for 
 the best of wives, and the dearest of children. You are 
 ever present before my eyes in your mourning, your afflic- 
 tion, and your sickness. Amidst all which, there scarce 
 
 appears to me the least glimmering of hope. However, 
 
 so long as you hope, I will not despair. 1 will do what 
 
 you advise me. I have returned my thanks to those friends 
 whom you mentioned, and have let them know, that you 
 have acquainted me with their good offices. I am sensible 
 of Piso's extraordinary zeal and endeavours to serve me. 
 Oh ! would the gods grant that you and I might live 
 together in the enjoyment of such a son-in-law, and of our 
 
 dear children. As for what you write of your coming 
 
 to me if I desire it, I would rather you should be where 
 you are, because I know you are my principal agent at 
 
 Rome. If you succeed, I shall come to you : if not . 
 
 But I need say no more. Be careful of your health, and 
 be assured, that nothing is, or ever was, so dear to me as 
 yourself. Farewell, my Terentia ; I fancy that I see you, 
 and therefore cannot command my weakness so far as to 
 refrain from tears." 
 
 IV. 
 
 " T don't write to you as often as I might, because not- 
 
 ■*■ withstanding I am afflicted at all times, I am quite 
 
 overcome with sorrow whilst I am writing to you, or 
 
 reading any letters that I receive from you If these 
 
 evils are not to be removed, I must desire to see you, 
 
 242 
 
No. 159. April 15,1710 T'he Tatlcr 
 
 my dearest life, as soon as possible, and to die in your em- 
 braces ; since neither the gods, whom you always religiously 
 worshipped ; nor the men, whose good I always promoted, 
 
 have rewarded us according to our deserts. What a 
 
 distressed wretch am I ! should I ask a weak woman, 
 oppressed with cares and sickness, to come and live with 
 me, or shall I not ask her ? Can I live without you ? But 
 I find I must. If there be any hopes of my return, help it 
 forward, and promote it as much as you are able. But if 
 all that is over, as I fear it is, find out some way or other 
 of coming to me. This you may be sure of, that I shall 
 not look upon myself as quite undone whilst you are with 
 me. But what will become of TuUiola ^ You must look 
 to that ; I must confess, I am entirely at a loss about her. 
 Whatever happens, we must take care of the reputation and 
 marriage of that dear unfortunate girl. As for Cicero, he 
 shall live in my bosom and in my arms. I cannot write 
 any further, my sorrows will not let me Support your- 
 self, my dear Terentia, as well as you are able. We have 
 lived and flourished together amidst the greatest honours : 
 it is not our crimes, but our virtues that have distressed 
 
 us. Take more than ordinary care of your health ; I 
 
 am more afflicted with your sorrows than my own. Fare- 
 well, my Terentia, thou dearest, faithfullest, and best of 
 wives." 
 
 Methinks it is a pleasure to see this great man in his 
 family, who makes so different a figure in the Forum or 
 Senate of Rome. Every one admires the orator and the 
 consul ; but for my part, I esteem the husband and the 
 father. His private character, with all the little weak- 
 nesses of humanity, is as amiable as the figure he makes in 
 public is awful and majestic. But at the same time that I 
 love to surprise so great an author in his private walks, 
 
 243 
 
The Tatler No. i6o. April 18,1710 
 
 and to survey him in his most familiar lights, I think it 
 would be barbarous to form to ourselves any idea of mean- 
 spiritedness from these natural openings of his heart, and 
 disburdening of his thoughts to a wife. He has written 
 several other letters to the same person, but none with so 
 great passion as these of which I have given the foregoing 
 extracts. 
 
 It would be ill-nature not to acquaint the English 
 reader, that his wife was successful in her solicitations for 
 this great man, and saw her husband return to the 
 honours of which he had been deprived, with all the pomp 
 and acclamation that usually attended the greatest triumph. 
 
 No. 160. [Addison and Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, April 15, to "Tuesday, April 18, 17 10. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 1 7. 
 
 A common civility to an impertinent fellow often 
 draws upon one a great many unforeseen troubles ; 
 and if one does not take particular care, will be inter- 
 preted by him as an overture of friendship and intimacy. 
 This I was very sensible of this morning. About two 
 hours before day, I heard a great rapping at my door, 
 which continued some time, till my maid could get herself 
 ready to go down and see what was the occasion of it. 
 She then brought me up word, that there was a gentleman 
 who seemed very much in haste, and said he must needs 
 speak with me. By the description she gave me of him, 
 and by his voice, which I could hear as I lay in my bed, I 
 fancied him to be my old acquaintance the upholsterer,' 
 whom I met the other day in St. James's Park. For 
 
 ' See No. 155. 
 244 
 
No. 1 6o. April 1 8,17 lo T'he 'Tatler 
 
 which reason, I bid her tell the gentleman, whoever he 
 was, that I was indisposed, that I could see nobody, and 
 that, if he had anything to say to me, I desired he would 
 leave it in writing. My maid, after having delivered her 
 message, told me that the gentleman said he would stay 
 at the next coiFee-house till I was stirring, and bid her be 
 sure to tell me, that the French were driven from the 
 Scarp, and that Douay was invested. He gave her the 
 name of another town, which I found she had dropped by 
 the way. 
 
 As much as I love to be informed of the success of my brave 
 countrymen, I do not care for hearing of a victory before 
 day, and was therefore very much out of humour at this 
 unseasonable visit. I had no sooner recovered my temper, 
 and was falling asleep, but I was immediately startled by a 
 second rap ; and upon my maid's opening the door, heard 
 the same voice ask her if her master was yet up ; and at 
 the same time bid her tell me, that he was come on pur- 
 pose to talk with me about a piece of home news that 
 everybody in town will be full of two hours hence. I 
 ordered my maid as soon as she came into the room, 
 without hearing her message, to tell the gentleman, that 
 whatever his news was, I would rather hear it two hours 
 hence than now ; and that I persisted in my resolution 
 not to speak with anybody that morning. The wench 
 delivered my answer presently, and shut the door. It 
 was impossible for me to compose myself to sleep after 
 two such unexpected alarms ; for which reason I put on 
 my clothes in a very peevish humour. I took several 
 turns about my chamber, reflecting with a great deal of 
 anger and contempt on these volunteers in politics, that 
 undergo all the pain, watchfulness, and disquiet of a First 
 Minister, without turning it to the advantage either of 
 themselves or their country ; and yet it is surprising to 
 
 245 
 
'The Tatler No. i6o. April 18,1710 
 
 consider how numerous this species of men is. There is 
 nothing more frequent than to find a tailor breaking his 
 rest on the affairs of Europe, and to see a cluster of 
 porters sitting upon the Ministry. Our streets swarm 
 with politicians, and there is scarce a shop which is not 
 held by a statesman. As I was musing after this manner, 
 I heard the upholsterer at the door delivering a letter to 
 my maid, and begging her, in a very great hurry, to give 
 it to her master as soon as ever he was awake, which I 
 opened, and found as follows : 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " T was to wait upon you about a week ago, to let you 
 -^ know, that the honest gentlemen whom you con- 
 versed with upon the bench at the end of the Mall, having 
 heard that I had received five shillings of you, to give you 
 a hundred pounds upon the Great Turk's being driven out 
 of Europe, desired me to acquaint you, that every one of 
 that company would be willing to receive five shillings, to 
 pay a hundred pounds on the same conditions. Our last 
 advices from Muscovy making this a fairer bet than it was 
 a week ago, I do not question but you will accept the 
 wager. 
 
 " But this is not my present business. If you re- 
 member, I whispered a word in your ear as we were 
 walking up the Mall, and you see what has happened 
 since. If I had seen you this morning, I would have told 
 you in your ear another secret. I hope you will be 
 recovered of your indisposition by to-morrow morning, 
 when I will wait on you at the same hour as I did this ; 
 my private circumstances being such, that I cannot well 
 appear in this quarter of the town after it is day. 
 
 " I have been so taken up with the late good news from 
 Holland, and expectation of further particulars, as well as 
 
 246 
 
No. i6o. April i8, 1710 The TdtUr 
 
 with other transactions, of which I will tell you more 
 to-morrow morning, that I have not slept a wink these 
 three nights. 
 
 " I have reason to believe that Picardy will soon follow 
 the example of Artois, in case the enemy continue in their 
 present resolution of flying away from us. I think I told 
 you last time we were together my opinion about the 
 DeuUe. 
 
 " The honest gentlemen upon the bench bid me tell 
 you, they would be glad to see you often among them. 
 We shall be there all the warm hours of the day, during 
 the present posture of affairs. 
 
 " This happy opening of the campaign will, I hope, 
 give us a very joyful summer ; and I propose to take 
 many a pleasant walk with you, if you will sometimes 
 come into the Park ; for that is the only place in which I 
 can be free from the malice of my enemies. Farewell till 
 three o'clock to-morrow morning. I am, 
 
 " Your most humble Servant, &c. 
 "P.S. The King of Sweden is still at Bender." 
 
 I should have fretted myself to death at this promise of 
 a second visit, if I had not found in his letter an intima- 
 tion of the good news which I have since heard at large. 
 I have however ordered my maid to tie up the knocker of 
 my door in such a manner as she would do if I was really 
 indisposed. By which means I hope to escape breaking 
 my morning's rest.' 
 
 Since I have given this letter to the public, I shall com- 
 municate one or two more, which I have lately received 
 
 ^ The preceding portion of this paper is printed in Tickell's edition 
 of Addison's Works. 
 
 247 
 
T'he Tatler No. 1 60. April 18,1710 
 
 from others of my correspondents. The following is 
 from a Coquette, who is very angry at my having disposed 
 of her in marriage to a Bass-viol : ' 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " T thought you would never have descended from the 
 -*■ Censor of Great Britain, to become a match-maker. 
 But pray, why so severe upon the Kit } Had I been a 
 Jews-harp, that is nothing but tongue, you could not have 
 used me worse. Of all things, a Bass-viol is my aversion. 
 Had you married me to a Bagpipe, or a Passing-bell, I 
 should have been better pleased. Dear Father Isaac, 
 either choose me a better husband, or I will live and die a 
 Dulcimer. In hopes of receiving satisfaction from you, I 
 am yours, whilst 
 
 " Isabella Kit." 
 
 The pertness which this fair lady has shown in this 
 letter, was one occasion of my joining her to the Bass-viol, 
 which is an instrument that wants to be quickened by 
 these little vivacities ; as the sprightliness of the Kit 
 ought to be checked and curbed by the gravity of the 
 Bass-viol. 
 
 My next letter is from Tom Folio,'' who it seems takes 
 it amiss that I have published a character of him so much 
 to his disadvantage : 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " T suppose you meant Tom Fool, when you called me 
 -^ Tom Folio in a late trifling paper of yours ; for I 
 find, it is your design to run down all useful and solid 
 learning. The tobacco-paper on which your own writings 
 are usually printed,' as well as the incorrectness of the 
 
 > See No. 157. ^ See No. 158. ' See No. loi. 
 
 248 
 
No. 1 6o. April 1 8,17 lo T'he T'atlev 
 
 press, and the scurvy letter, sufficiently show the extent of 
 your knowledge. I question not but you look upon John 
 Morphew to be as great a man as Elzevir ; and Aldus, to 
 have been such another as Bernard Lintot.' If you would 
 give me my revenge, I would only desire of you to let me 
 publish an account of your library, which I daresay would 
 furnish out an extraordinary catalogue. 
 
 "Tom Folio." 
 
 It has always been my way to baffle reproach with 
 silence, though I cannot but observe the disingenuous 
 proceedings of this gentleman, who is not content to 
 asperse my writings, but has wounded, through my sides, 
 those eminent and worthy citizens, Mr. John Morphew, 
 and Mr, Bernard Lintot.' 
 
 * Bernard Lintot (1675-1736) was Jacob Tonson's principal rival 
 in the publishing trade in the time of Queen Anne and George I. 
 
 * The author of a curious pamphlet, " The Critical Specimen," 
 171 1, said he was much divided in his opinion, whether to prefer the 
 every way* excellent Mr. Jacob Tonson, junior, or Mr. Bernard Lintot 
 to be his bookseller, for the latter of whom he had had a particular 
 consideration since he received this eulogium from his honoured friend 
 Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq. — This pamphlet purports to be a specimen of 
 a proposed Life of Rinaldo Furioso, Critic of the Woful Countenance, — 
 i.e., John Dennis. It contains remarks upon the two good lines he'wrote 
 {^Spectator, No. 47) upon the difficulty ot distinguishing his-comedies 
 from his tragedies, &c. &c. There is, too, an allusion to the Tatlers 
 and Spectators in the notice that the virtues of the critic are to be 
 printed in a very small neat Elzevir character, and his extravagances 
 in a noble large letter on royal paper. 
 
 249 
 
T'he 1'atler No. i6i. ApriHo, 1710 
 
 No. 161. [Addison. 
 
 From Tuesday, April i8, to Thursday, April 20, 17 10. 
 
 Nunquam Libertas gratior exstat 
 
 Quam sub rege pio 
 
 Claudian, De Laudibus Stilichonis, iii. 113. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 19. 
 
 Iwas walking two or three days ago in a very pleasing 
 retirement, and amusing myself with the reading of 
 that ancient and beautiful allegory, called " The Table of 
 Cebes."' I was at last so tired with my walk, that I sat 
 down to rest myself upon a bench that stood in the midst 
 of an agreeable shade. The music of the birds, that filled 
 all the trees about me, lulled me asleep before I was aware 
 of it ; which was followed by a dream, that I impute in 
 some measure to the foregoing author, who had made an 
 impression upon my imagination, and put me into his own 
 way of thinking. 
 
 I fancied myself among the Alps, and, as it is natural 
 in a dream, seemed every moment to bound from one 
 summit to another, till at last, after having made this 
 airy progress over the tops of several mountains, I arrived 
 at the very centre of those broken rocks and precipices. 
 I here, methought, saw a prodigious circuit of hills, that 
 reached above the clouds, and encompassed a large space 
 of ground, which I had a great curiosity to look into. I 
 thereupon continued my former way of travelling through 
 a great variety of winter scenes, till I had gained the top 
 of these white mountains, which seemed another Alps of 
 
 ^ Cebes, of Thebes, was a disciple of Philolaus and Socrates. His 
 IltWf is an account of a table on which human life, with all its 
 temptations and dangers, is represented symbolically, 
 
 250 
 
No. i6i. April 2o,i7io I'he T'utler 
 
 snow. I looked down from hence into a spacious plain, 
 which was surrounded on all sides by this mound of hills, 
 and which presented me with the most agreeable prospect 
 I had ever seen. There was a greater variety of colours 
 in the embroidery of the meadows, a more lively green in 
 the leaves and grass, a brighter crystal in the streams, than 
 what I ever met with in any other region. The light 
 itself had something more shining and glorious in it than 
 that of which the day is made in other places. I was 
 wonderfully astonished at the discovery of such a paradise 
 amidst the wildness of those cold, hoary landscapes which 
 lay about it ; but found at length, that this happy region was 
 inhabited by the Goddess of Liberty ; whose presence 
 softened the rigours of the climate, enriched the barren- 
 ness of the soil, and more than supplied the absence of the 
 sun. The place was covered with a wonderful profusion 
 of flowers, that without being disposed into regular 
 borders and parterres, grew promiscuously, and had a 
 greater beauty in their natural luxuriancy and disorder, 
 than they could have received from the checks and 
 restraints of art. There was a river that arose out of the 
 south side of the mountain, that by an infinite number of 
 turns and windings, seemed to visit every plant, and 
 cherish the several beauties of the spring, with which the 
 fields abounded. After having run to and fro in a 
 wonderful variety of meanders, as unwilling to leave so 
 charming a place, it at last throws itself into the hollow of 
 a mountain, from whence it passes under a long range of 
 rocks, and at length rises in that part of the iUps where 
 the inhabitants think it the first source of the Rhone. 
 This river, after having made its progress through those 
 free nations, stagnates in a huge lake,' at the leaving of 
 them, and no sooner enters into the regions of slavery, but 
 
 * The Lake of Geneva. 
 251 
 
T'he T'atler No. i6i. April 20, 1710 
 
 runs through them with an incredible rapidity, and takes 
 its shortest way to the sea. 
 
 I descended into the happy fields that lay beneath me, 
 and in the midst of them, beheld the goddess sitting upon 
 a throne. She had nothing to enclose her but the bounds 
 of her own dominions, and nothing over her head but the 
 heavens. Every glance of her eye cast a track of light 
 where it fell, that revived the spring, and made all things 
 smile about her. My heart grew cheerful at the sight of 
 her, and as she looked upon me, I found a certain confi- 
 dence growing in me, and such an inward resolution as I 
 never felt before that time. 
 
 On the left hand of the goddess sat the Genius of a 
 Commonwealth, with the cap of liberty on her head, and 
 in her hand a wand, like that with which a Roman citizen 
 used to give his slaves their freedom. There was some- 
 thing mean and vulgar, but at the same time exceeding 
 bold and daring, in her air ; her eyes were full of fire, 
 but had in them such casts of fierceness and cruelty, as 
 made her appear to me rather dreadful than amiable. On 
 her shoulder she wore a mantle, on which there was 
 wrought a great confusion of figures. As it flew in the 
 wind, I could not discern the particular design of them, 
 but saw wounds in the bodies of some, and agonies in the 
 faces of others ; and over one part of it could read in 
 letters of blood, " The Ides of March." 
 
 On the right hand of the goddess was the Genius of 
 Monarchy. She was clothed in the whitest ermine, and wore 
 a crown of the purest gold upon her head. In her hand 
 she held a sceptre like that which is borne by the British 
 monarchs. A couple of tame lions lay crouching at her 
 feet : her countenance had in it a very great majesty with- 
 out any mixture of terror : her voice was like the voice of 
 an angel, filled with so much sweetness, and accompanied 
 
 252 
 
No. 1 6 1. April 20, 17 lo I'he 'TatUr 
 
 with such an air of condescension, as tempered the awful- 
 ness of her appearance, and equally inspired love and vene- 
 ration into the hearts of all that beheld her. 
 
 In the train of the Goddess of Liberty were the several 
 Arts and Sciences, who all of them flourished underneath 
 her eye. One of them in particular made a greater figure 
 than any of the rest, who held a thunderbolt in her hand, 
 which had the power of melting, piercing, or breaking 
 everything that stood in its way. The name of this god- 
 dess was Eloquence. 
 
 There were two other dependent goddesses, who made 
 a very conspicuous figure in this blissful region. The first 
 of them was seated upon a hill, that had every plant grow- 
 ing out of it, which the soil was in its own nature capable 
 of producing. The other was seated in a little island, that 
 was covered with groves of spices, olives, and orange-trees ; 
 and in a word, with the products of every foreign clime. 
 The name of the first was Plenty, of the second. Com- 
 merce. The first leaned her right arm upon a plough, and 
 under her left held a huge horn, out of which she poured 
 a whole autumn of fruits. The other wore a rostral 
 crown upon her head, and kept her eyes fixed upon a 
 compass. 
 
 I was wonderfully pleased in ranging through this de- 
 lightful place, and the more so, because it was not encum- 
 bered with fences and enclosures ; till at length, methought, 
 I sprung from the ground, and pitched upon the top of a 
 hill, that presented several objects to my sight which I had 
 not before taken notice of. The winds that passed over 
 this flowery plain, and through the tops of the trees which 
 were full of blossoms, blew upon me in such a continued 
 breeze of sweets, that I was wonderfully charmed with my 
 situation. I here saw all the inner declivities of that great 
 circuit of mountains, whose outside was covered with snow, 
 
 253 
 
T'he T'atler No. i6i. Apriiao, 1710 
 
 1 
 
 overgrown with huge forests of fir-trees, which indeed are 
 very frequently found in other parts of the Alps. These 
 trees were inhabited by storks, that came thither in great 
 flights from very distant quarters of the world. Methought, 
 I was pleased in my dream to see what became of these 
 birds, when, upon leaving the places to which they make 
 an annual visit, they rise in great flocks so high till 
 they are out of sight ; and for that reason have been 
 thought by some modern philosophers to take a flight to 
 the moon. But my eyes were soon diverted from this 
 prospect, when I observed two great gaps that led through 
 this circuit of mountains, where guards and watches were 
 posted day and night. Upon examination I found, that 
 there were two formidable enemies encamped before each 
 of these avenues, who kept the place in a perpetual alarm, 
 and watched all opportunities of invading it. 
 
 Tyranny was at the head of one of these armies, dressed 
 in an Eastern habit, and grasping in her hand an iron 
 sceptre. Behind her was Barbarity, with the garb and 
 complexion of an Ethiopian ; Ignorance with a turban 
 upon her head ; and Persecution holding up a bloody flag, 
 embroidered with fleurs-de-luce. These were followed by 
 Oppression, Poverty, Famine, Torture, and a dreadful train 
 of appearances, that made me tremble to behold them. 
 Among the baggage of this army, I could discover racks, 
 wheels, chains, and gibbets, with all the instruments art 
 could invent to make human nature miserable. 
 
 Before the other avenue I saw Licentiousness, dressed in 
 a garment not unlike the Polish cassock, and leading up a 
 whole army of monsters, such as Clamour, with a hoarse 
 voice and a hundred tongues ; Confusion, with a mis- 
 shapen body and a thousand heads ; Impudence, with a 
 forehead of brass ; and Rapine, with hands of iron. The 
 tumult, noise, and uproar in this quarter were so very 
 
 *54 
 
No. i62. AprU22, lyio I'he I'atler 
 
 great, that they disturbed my imagination more than is con- 
 sistent with sleep, and by that means awaked me. 
 
 No. 162. [Addison. 
 
 From 'Thursday, April 20, to Saturday, April 22, 17 10. 
 
 Tertius e coelo cecidit Cato. — Juv., Sat. ii. 40. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 2 1 . 
 
 In my younger years I used many endeavours to get 
 a place at Court, and indeed continued my pursuits till 
 I arrived at my grand climacteric : but at length altogether 
 despairing of success, whether it were for want of capacity, 
 friends, or due application, I at last resolved to erect a new 
 office, and for my encouragement, to place myself in it. 
 For this reason, I took upon me the title and dignity of 
 Censor of Great Britain, reserving to myself all such per- 
 quisites, profits, and emoluments as should arise out of the 
 discharge of the said office. These in truth have not been 
 inconsiderable ; for, besides those weekly contributions 
 which I receive from John Morphew, and those annual 
 subscriptions which I propose to myself from the most 
 elegant part of this great island, I daily live in a very com- 
 fortable affluence of wine, stale beer, Hungary water, beef, 
 books, and marrow-bones, which I receive from many well- 
 disposed citizens ; not to mention the forfeitures which 
 accrue to me from the several offenders that appear before 
 me on court-days. 
 
 Having now enjoyed this office for the space of a twelve- 
 month, I shall do what all good officers ought to do, take 
 a survey of my behaviour, and consider carefully whether 
 I have discharged my duty, and acted up to the character 
 with which I am invested. For my direction in this par- 
 
 255 
 
'The Tatler No. 162. April 22, 1710 
 
 ticular, I have made a narrow search into the nature of the 
 old Roman censors, whom I must always regard, not only 
 as my predecessors, but as my patterns in this great em- 
 ployment ; and have several times asked my own heart 
 with great impartiality, whether Cato will not bear a more 
 venerable figure among posterity than BickerstafF. 
 
 I find the duty of the Roman censor was twofold. 
 The first part of it consisted in making frequent reviews 
 of the people, in casting up their numbers, ranging them 
 under their several tribes, disposing them into proper 
 classes, and subdividing them into their respective 
 centuries. 
 
 In compliance with this part of the office, I have taken 
 many curious surveys of this great city. I have collected 
 into particular bodies the Dappers* and the Smarts," the 
 Natural and Afi^ected Rakes,' the Pretty Fellows and the 
 Very Pretty Fellows.* I have likewise drawn out in 
 several distinct parties your Pedants' and Men of Fire,* 
 your Gamesters' and Politicians.' I have separated Cits 
 from Citizens,' Freethinkers from Philosophers,'" Wits 
 from Snuffs-takers," and Duellists from Men of Honour." 
 I have likewise made a calculation of Esquires," not only 
 considering the several distinct swarms of them that are 
 settled in the different parts of this town, but also that 
 more rugged species that inhabit the fields and woods, 
 and are often found in pothouses, and upon haycocks. 
 
 I shall pass the soft sex over in silence, having not yet 
 reduced them into any tolerable order ; as likewise the 
 
 1 See No, 85. ^ See Nos. 26, 28. » See Nos. 27, 143. 
 
 * See Nos. 21, 22, 24. = See No. 158. « See No. 61. 
 
 ' See Nos. 13, 14, 15, 56, &c. ' See Nos. 40, 155. 
 
 ' See No. 25. "" See Nos. 108, in, 135. 
 
 " See Nos. 35, 141. " See Nos. 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 39. 
 
 ^ See Nos. 19, 115. 
 
 256 
 
No. i62. April 22,1 7IO 'The Tatler 
 
 softer tribe of lovers, which will cost me a great deal of 
 time, before I shall be able to cast them into their several 
 centuries and subdivisions. 
 
 The second part of the Roman censor's office was 
 to look into the manners of the people, and to check any 
 growing luxury, whether in diet, dress, or building. 
 This duty likewise I have endeavoured to discharge, 
 by those wholesome precepts which I have given my 
 countrymen in regard to beef and mutton, and the severe 
 censures which I have passed upon ragouts and fricassees.' 
 There is not, as I am informed, a pair of red heels" to 
 be seen within ten miles of London, which I may like- 
 wise ascribe, without vanity, to the becoming zeal which 
 I expressed in that particular. I must own, my success 
 with the petticoat' is not so great : but as I have not yet 
 done with it, I hope I shall in a little time put an 
 effectual stop to that growing evil. As for the article 
 of building, I intend hereafter to enlarge upon it, having 
 lately observed several warehouses, nay private shops, that 
 stand upon Corinthian pillars, and whole rows of tin pots 
 showing themselves, in order to their sale, through a sash- 
 window. 
 
 I have likewise followed the example of the Roman 
 censors, in punishing offences according to the quality of 
 the offender. It was usual for them to expel a senator 
 who had been guilty of great immoralities out of the 
 senate-house, by omitting his name when they called 
 over the list of his brethren. In the same manner, to 
 remove effectually several worthless men who stand 
 possessed of great honours, I have made frequent 
 draughts of dead men* out of the vicious part of the 
 nobility, and given them up to the new society of 
 upholders, with the necessary orders for their interment. 
 1 See No. 148. 'See No. 26. 'See No. 116. * See Nos.96, uo. 
 
 VOL. HI. 257 "^ 
 
I'he 'Tatler No. 162. April 22, 1710 
 
 As the Roman censors used to punish the knights or 
 gentlemen of Rome, by taking away their horses from 
 them, I have seized the canes ' of many criminals of figure, 
 whom I had just reason to animadvert upon. As for 
 the offenders among the common people of Rome, they 
 were generally chastised, by being thrown out of a higher 
 tribe, and placed in one which was not so honourable. 
 My reader cannot but think I have had an eye to this 
 punishment, when I have degraded one species of men 
 into bombs, squibs, and crackers," and another into drums, 
 bass-viols, and bagpipes ;' not to mention whole packs of 
 delinquents whom I have shut up in kennels, and the new 
 hospital which I am at present erecting, for the reception 
 of those my countrymen who give me but little hopes of 
 their amendment, on the borders of Moorfields.'' I shall 
 only observe upon this last particular, that since some 
 late surveys I have taken of this island, I shall think it 
 necessary to enlarge the plan of the buildings which I 
 design in this quarter. 
 
 When my great predecessor Cato the elder stood for 
 the Censorship of Rome, there were several other com- 
 petitors who offered themselves ; and to get an interest 
 among the people, gave them great promises of the mild 
 and gentle treatment which they would use towards them 
 in that office. Cato on the contrary told them, he pre- 
 sented himself as a candidate, because he knew the age 
 was sunk in immorality and corruption ; and that if they 
 would give him their votes, he would promise them to 
 make use of such a strictness and severity of discipline as 
 should recover them out of it. The Roman historians, 
 upon this occasion, very much celebrate the public- 
 spiritedness of that people, who chose Cato for their 
 censor, notwithstanding his method of recommending 
 
 1 See No. 26. " See No. 88. ' See No. 153. *■ SeeNos. 62, 127. 
 
 258 
 
No. 163. April 25, 1710 T'he I'atler 
 
 himself. I may in some measure extol my own country- 
 men upon the same account, who, without any respect 
 to party, or any application from myself, have made 
 such generous subscriptions for the Censor of Great 
 Britain, as will give a magnificence to my old age, and 
 which I esteem more than I would any post in Europe 
 of a hundred times the value. I shall only add, that 
 upon looking into my catalogue of subscribers, which I 
 intend to print alphabetically in the front of my Lucubra- 
 tions, I find the names of the greatest beauties and wits in 
 the whole island of Great Britain, which I only mention 
 for the benefit of any of them who have not subscribed, it 
 being my design to close the subscription in a very short 
 time. 
 
 No. 163. [Addison, 
 
 From Saturday, April 22, to 'Tuesday, April 25, 17 10. 
 
 Idem inficeto est inficetior rure, 
 
 Simul poemata attigit ; neque idem unquam 
 
 j£que est beatus, ac poema cum scribit : 
 
 Tam gaudet in se, tamque se ipse miratur. 
 
 Nimirum idem omnes fallimur ; neque est quisquam, 
 
 Quem non in aliqua re videre SuiFenum 
 
 Possis. — Catullus, xxii. 14. 
 
 WiWs Coffee-house, April 24. 
 
 I yesterday came hither about two hours before the 
 company generally make their appearance, with a 
 design to read over all the newspapers; but upon my sitting 
 down, I was accosted by Ned Softly, who saw me from a 
 corner in the other end of the room, where I found he 
 had been writing something. " Mr. BickerstaiF," says he, 
 " I observe by a late paper of yours, that you and I are 
 
 259 
 
'The Tatler No. 163. April 25, 1 710 
 
 just of a humour ; for you must know, of all imperti- 
 nences, there is nothing which I so much hate as news. I 
 never read a Gazette in my life ; and never trouble my 
 head about our armies, whether they win or lose, or in what 
 part of the world they lie encamped." Without giving me 
 time to reply, he drew a paper of verses out of his pocket, 
 telling me, that he had something which would entertain 
 me more agreeably, and that he would desire my judgment 
 upon every line, for that we had time enough before us 
 till the company came in. 
 
 Ned Softly is a very pretty poet, and a great admirer of 
 easy lines. Waller is his favourite : and as that admirable 
 Writer has the best and worst verses of any among our 
 great English poets, Ned Softly has got all the bad ones 
 without book, which he repeats upon occasion, to show 
 his reading, and garnish his conversation. Ned is indeed a 
 true English reader, incapable of relishing the great and 
 masterly strokes of this art ; but wonderfully pleased with 
 the little Gothic ornaments of epigrammatical conceits, 
 turns, points, and quibbles, which are so frequent in the 
 most admired of our English poets, and practised by those 
 who want genius and strength to represent, after the 
 manner of the ancients, simplicity in its natural beauty 
 and perfection. 
 
 Finding myself unavoidably engaged in such a conver- 
 sation, 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 : 
 
 260 
 
No. 163. April 25, 1710 T'he ^atler 
 
 " To Mira on her Incomparable Poems. 
 
 " When dressed in laurel wreaths you shine. 
 And tune your soft melodious notes. 
 You seem a sister of the Nine, 
 Or Pheebus' self in petticoats, 
 
 II. 
 
 " I fancy, when your song you sing 
 
 {Tour song you sing with so much art), 
 Tour pen was plucked from Cupids wing ; 
 For ah ! it wounds me like his 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 in the tail of an epigram (for so I think your 
 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. 
 
 " When dressed in laurel wreaths you shine. 
 
 "That is," says he, "when you have your garland on ; 
 when you are writing verses." To which I replied, " I 
 know your meaning : a metaphor ! " " The same," said 
 he, and went on : 
 
 " And tune your soft melodious notes. 
 
 " Pray observe the gliding of that verse ; there is scarce 
 a consonant in it : I took care to make it run upon liquids. 
 
 261 
 
"The Tatler No. 163. April 25, 17 lo 
 
 Give me your opinion of it." " Truly," said I, " I think 
 it as good as the former." " I am very glad to hear you 
 say so," says he ; " but mind the next : 
 
 " You seem a sister of the Nine. 
 
 " That is," says he, " you seem a sister of the Muses ; for 
 if you look into ancient authors, you will find it was their 
 opinion, that there were nine of them." " I remember it 
 very well," said I ; " but pray proceed." 
 
 " Or Phcebtts'' self in petticoats, 
 
 " Phoebus," says he, " was the God of Poetry. These 
 little instances, Mr. BickerstaiF, show a gentleman's reading. 
 Then to take off from the air of learning, which Phcebus 
 and the Muses have given to this first stanza, you may 
 observe how it falls all of a sudden into the familiar ; 'in 
 petticoats ! ' 
 
 " Or Phcebus' self in petticoats P 
 
 " Let us now," says I, " enter upon the second stanza. 
 I find the first line is still a continuation of the metaphor : 
 
 " I fancy, when your song you sing" 
 
 " It is very right," says he ; " but pray observe the turn 
 of words in those two lines. I was a whole hour in adjust- 
 ing of them, and have still a doubt upon me, whether in 
 the second line it should be, ' Your song you sing ' ; or, 
 * You sing your song ' ? You shall hear them both : 
 
 " I fancy, when your song you sing 
 
 {Tour song you sing with so much art). 
 
 Or, 
 
 " J fancy, when your song you sing 
 
 {Tou sing your song with so much art)." 
 262 
 
No. 163. April 25, 17 lo T'he T'atler 
 
 " Truly," said I, " the turn is so natural either way, 
 that you have made me almost giddy with it," " Dear 
 sir," said he, grasping me by the hand, " you have a great 
 deal of patience ; but pray what do you think of the next 
 verse : 
 
 " Tour pen was plucked from Cupid's wing ? " 
 
 " Think ! " says I ; " I think you have made Cupid look 
 like a little goose." " That was my meaning," says he ; "I 
 think the ridicule is well enough hit off. But we now 
 come to the last, which sums up the whole matter : 
 
 " For ah ! it wounds me like his dart. 
 
 " Pray, how do you like that ' Ah ! ' Does it not make 
 a pretty figure in that place ? ' Ah ! ' It looks as if I 
 felt the dart, and cried out at being pricked with it : 
 
 " For ah t it wounds me like his dart. 
 
 " My friend Dick Easy,"^ continued he, " assured me he 
 would rather have written that ' Ah ! ' than to have been 
 the author of the ' iEneid.' 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 con- 
 veyed 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. 
 
 1 Perhaps Henry Cromwell. See Nos. 47, 49, 165, and Mrs. Eliza- 
 beth Thomas' "Pylades and Corinna," i. 194. 
 
 263 
 
'Th^ Tatler No. 164. April 27, 1710 
 
 No. 164. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, A-pril 25, to Thursday, April 27, 17 10. 
 
 Qui sibi promittit cives, urbem sibi curas, 
 Imperium fore et Italiam, delubra Deorum, 
 Quo patre sit natus, num ignota matre inhonestus, 
 Omnes mortales curare et quaerere cogit. 
 
 HoR., I Sat. vi. 34. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 26. 
 
 I have lately been looking over the many packets of 
 letters which I have received from all quarters of Great 
 Britain, as well as from foreign countries, since my 
 entering upon the office of Censor, and indeed am very 
 much surprised to see so great a number of them, and 
 pleased to think that I have so far increased the revenue 
 of the Post Office. As this collection will grow daily, I 
 have digested it into several bundles, and made proper 
 endorsements on each particular letter, it being my design, 
 when I lay down the work that I am now engaged in, to 
 erect a Paper Office, and give it to the public' 
 
 I could not but make several observations upon reading 
 over the letters of my correspondents : as first of all, on 
 the different tastes that reign in the different parts of this 
 city. I find, by the approbations which are given me, that 
 I am seldom famous on the same days on both sides of 
 Temple Bar ; and that when I am in the greatest repute 
 within the Liberties, I dwindle at the court end of the 
 town. Sometimes I sink in both these places at the same 
 
 ' This idea was carried out in 1725, when Charles Lillie published, 
 by Steele's permission, two volumes of " Original and genuine Letters 
 sent to the Tatler and Spectator, during the time those works were 
 publishing. None of which have been before printed." See No. no. 
 
 264 
 
No. 164. April 27, lyio The 'Tatler 
 
 time ; but for my comfort, my name has then been 
 up in the districts of Wapping and Rotherhithe. Some 
 of my correspondents desire me to be always serious, 
 and others to be always merry. Some of them entreat 
 me to go to bed and fall into a dream, and like me 
 better when I am asleep than when I am awake : 
 others advise me to sit all night upon the stars, and be 
 more frequent in my astrological observations ; for that a 
 vision is not properly a lucubration. Some of my readers 
 thank me for filling my paper with the flowers of antiquity, 
 others desire news from Flanders. Some approve my 
 criticisms on the dead, and others my censures on the 
 living. For this reason, I once resolved in the new 
 edition of my works, to range my several papers under 
 distinct heads, according as their principal design was 
 to benefit and instruct the diflferent capacities of my 
 readers, and to follow the example of some very great 
 authors, by writing at the head of each discourse, " Ad 
 Aulam," "Ad Academiam," "Ad Populum," "Ad 
 Clerum." 
 
 There is no particular in which my correspondents of 
 all ages, conditions, sexes, and complexions, universally 
 agree, except only in their thirst after scandal. It is 
 impossible to conceive how many have recommended their 
 neighbours to me upon this account, or how unmercifully I 
 have been abused by several unknown hands, for not 
 publishing the secret histories of cuckoldom that I have 
 received from almost every street in town. 
 
 It would indeed be very dangerous for me to read over 
 the many praises and eulogiums which come post to me 
 from all the corners of the nation, were they not mixed 
 with many checks, reprimands, scurrilities, and reproaches, 
 which several of my good-natured countrymen cannot 
 forbear sending me, though it often costs them twopence 
 
 265 
 
T'he T'atler No. 164. April 27, 1710 
 
 or a groat before they can convey them to my hands •} so 
 that sometimes when I am put into the best humour in the 
 world, after having read a panegyric upon my performance, 
 and looked upon myself as a benefactor to the British 
 nation, the next letter perhaps I open, begins with, " You 
 old doting scoundrel;" "Are not you a sad dog?" 
 "Sirrah, you deserve to have your nose slit;" and the 
 like ingenious conceits. These little mortifications are 
 necessary to surpass that pride and vanity which naturally 
 arise in the mind of a received author, and enable me to 
 bear the reputation which my courteous readers bestow 
 upon me, without becoming a coxcomb by it. It was for 
 the same reason, that when a Roman general entered the 
 city in the pomp of a triumph, the commonwealth allowed 
 of several little drawbacks to his reputation, by conniving 
 at such of the rabble as repeated libels and lampoons upon 
 him within his hearing, and by that means engaged his 
 thoughts upon his weakness and imperfections, as well as on 
 the merits that advanced him to so great honours. The con- 
 queror however was not the less esteemed for being a man 
 in some particulars, because he appeared as a god in others. 
 There is another circumstance in which my countrymen 
 have dealt very perversely with me ; and that is, in 
 searching not only into my own life, but also into the 
 lives of my ancestors. If there has been a blot in my 
 family for these ten generations, it has been discovered by 
 some or other of my correspondents. In short, I find the 
 ancient family of the BickerstafFs has suffered very much 
 through the malice and prejudice of my enemies. Some 
 of them twit me in the teeth with the conduct of my Aunt 
 Margery :' nay, there are some who have been so disin- 
 genuous, as to throw Maud the Milkmaid' into my dish, 
 notwithstanding I myself was the first who discovered that 
 
 ^ See Nos. 117, 186, Advertisements. ' See No. 151. ' See No. 75. 
 
 z66 
 
No. 164. April 27, 17 lo I'he 'TatUr 
 
 alliance. I reap however many benefits from the malice of 
 these my enemies, as they let me see my own faults, and 
 give me a view of myself in the worst light ; as they 
 hinder me from being blown up by flattery and self-con- 
 ceit ; as they make me keep a watchful eye over my own 
 actions, and at the same time make me cautious how I talk 
 of others, and particularly of my friends and relations, or 
 value myself upon the antiquity of my family. 
 
 But the most formidable part of my correspondents are 
 those whose letters are filled with threats and menaces. I 
 have been treated so often after this manner, that not 
 thinking it sufficient to fence well, in which I am now 
 arrived at the utmost perfection,' and carry pistols about 
 me, which I have always tucked within my girdle ; I 
 several months since made my will, settled my estate, and 
 took leave of my friends, looking upon myself as no better 
 than a dead man. Nay, I went so far as to write a long 
 letter to the most intimate acquaintance I have in the 
 world, under the character of a departed person, giving 
 him an account of what brought me to that untimely end, 
 and of the fortitude with which I met it. This letter 
 being too long for the present paper, I intend to print it 
 by itself very suddenly ; and at the same time I must 
 confess, I took my hint of it from the behaviour of an old 
 soldier in the Civil Wars, who was corporal of a com- 
 pany in a regiment of foot, about the same time that I 
 myself was a cadet in the King's army. 
 
 This gentleman was taken by the enemy ; and the two 
 parties were upon such terms at that time, that we did not 
 treat each other as prisoners of war, but as traitors and 
 rebels. The poor corporal being condemned to die, wrote 
 
 ' It would hardly be possible for a man of Bickerstaff's age to acquire 
 perfection in fencing after only a few months' practice. See No. 173 : 
 " I first began to learn to push this last winter," 
 
 267 
 
T'he Matter No. 164. April 27, 1 710 
 
 a letter to his wife when under sentence of execution. 
 He writ on the Thursday, and was to be executed on 
 the Friday : but considering that the letter would not 
 come to his wife's hands till Saturday, the day after 
 execution, and being at that time more scrupulous than 
 ordinary in speaking exact truth, he formed his letter 
 rather according to the posture of his affairs when she 
 should read it, than as they stood when he sent it ; 
 though it must be confessed, there is a certain perplexity 
 in the style of it, which the reader will easily pardon, 
 considering his circumstances : 
 
 "Dear Wife, 
 
 "TT oping you are in good health, as I am at this present 
 -*■ ■'• writing, this is to let you know, that yesterday, 
 between the hours of eleven and twelve, I was hanged, 
 drawn and quartered. I died very penitently, and every- 
 body thought my case very hard. Remember me kindly 
 to my poor fatherless children. 
 
 " Yours till death, 
 
 " W. B." 
 
 It so happened, that this honest fellow was relieved by a 
 party of his friends, and had the satisfaction to see 
 all the rebels hanged who had been his enemies. I 
 must not omit a circumstance which exposed him to 
 raillery his whole life after. Before the arrival of the next 
 post, that would have set all things clear, his wife was 
 married to a second husband, who lived in the peaceful 
 possession of her ; and the corporal, who was a man of plain 
 understanding, did not care to stir in the matter, as know- 
 ing that she had the news of his death under his own hand, 
 which she might have produced upon occasion. 
 
 268 
 
No. 165. April 29, iyio T^he Tathf 
 
 No. 165. [Addison. 
 
 From Thursday, April 27, to Saturday, April 29, 17 10. 
 
 From my own Apartment, April 28. 
 
 It has always been my endeavour to distinguish between 
 realities and appearances, and to separate true merit 
 from the pretence to it. As it shall ever be my study to 
 make discoveries of this nature in human life, and to 
 settle the proper distinctions between the virtues and 
 perfections of mankind, and those false colours and 
 resemblances of them that shine alike in the eyes of the 
 vulgar ; so I shall be more particularly carefulto search into 
 the various merits and pretences of the learned world. This 
 is the more necessary, because there seems to be a general 
 combination among the pedants to extol one another's 
 labours, and cry up one another's parts ; while men of 
 sense, either through that modesty which is natural to 
 them, or the scorn they have for such trifling commenda- 
 tions, enjoy their stock of knowledge like a hidden treasure, 
 with satisfaction and silence. Pedantry indeed in learning 
 is like hypocrisy in religion, a form of knowledge without 
 the power of it, that attracts the eyes of the common 
 people, breaks out in noise and show, and finds its reward 
 not from any inward pleasure that attends it, but from the 
 praises and approbations which it receives from men. 
 
 Of this shallow species there is not a more impor- 
 tunate, empty, and conceited animal, than that which is 
 generally known by the name of a critic. This, in the 
 common acceptation of the word, is one that, without 
 entering into the sense and soul of an author, has a few 
 general rules, which, like mechanical instruments, he applies 
 
 269 
 
I'he 'Tatler No. 165. April 29, 1 710 
 
 to the works of every writer, and as they quadrate with 
 them, pronounces the author perfect or defective. He is 
 master of a certain set of words, as " unity, style, fire, 
 phlegm, easy, natural, turn, sentiment," and the like ; 
 which he varies, compounds, divides, and throws together, 
 in every part of his discourse, without any thought or 
 meaning. The marks you may know him by are, an 
 elevated eye, and dogmatical brow, a positive voice, and a 
 contempt for everything that comes out, whether he has 
 read it or not. He dwells altogether in generals. He 
 praises or dispraises in the lump. He shakes his head 
 very frequently at the pedantry of Universities, and bursts 
 into laughter when you mention an author that is not 
 known at Will's. He has formed his judgment upon 
 Homer, Horace, and Virgil, not from their own works, 
 but from those of Rapin and Bossu. He knows his own 
 strength so well, that he never dares praise anything in 
 which he has not a French author for his voucher. 
 
 With these extraordinary talents and accomplishments. 
 Sir Timothy Tittle' puts men in vogue, or condemns them 
 to obscurity, and sits as judge of life and death upon every 
 author that appears in public. It is impossible to represent 
 the pangs, agonies, and convulsions which Sir Timothy 
 expresses in every feature of his face, and muscle of his 
 body, upon the reading of a bad poet. 
 
 About a week ago I was engaged at a friend's of mine 
 
 in an agreeable conversation with his wife and daughters, 
 
 when in the height of our mirth, Sir Timothy, who makes 
 
 love to my friend's eldest daughter, came in amongst us 
 
 puffing and blowing as if he had been very much out of 
 
 breath. He immediately called for a chair, and desired 
 
 leave to sit down, without any further ceremony. I asked 
 
 him where he had been ? whether he was out of order ? 
 
 ' Perhaps Henry Cromwell ; see Nos. 47, 49, 163. 
 270 
 
No. 165. April 29, 1710 I' he 'Tatler 
 
 He only replied, that he was quite spent, and fell 
 a-cursing in soliloquy. I could hear him cry, " A wicked 
 rogue ; " "An execrable wretch ; " " Was there ever such 
 a monster } " The young ladies upon this began to be 
 affrighted, and asked whether any one had hurt him ^ 
 He answered nothing, but still talked to himself. " To 
 lay the first scene," says he, " in St. James's Park, and the 
 last in Northamptonshire." " Is that all .?" says I. "Then I 
 suppose you have been at the rehearsal of a play this morn- 
 ing } " " Been ! " says he ; "I have been at Northampton, in 
 the Park, in a lady's bed-chamber, in a dining-room, every- 
 where ; the rogue has led me such a dance." Though 
 I could scarce forbear laughing at his discourse, I told him 
 I was glad it was no worse, and that he was only metaphori- 
 cally weary. " In short, sir," says he, " the author has not 
 observed a single unity in his whole play ; the scene shifts 
 in every dialogue ; the villain has hurried me up and down 
 at such a rate, that I am tired off my legs." I could not 
 but observe with some pleasure, that the young lady whom he 
 made love to conceived a very just aversion to him, upon 
 seeing him so very passionate in trifles. And as she had 
 that natural sense which makes her a better judge than a 
 thousand critics, she began to rally him upon this foolish 
 humour. " For my part," says she, " I never knew a play 
 take that was written up to your rules, as you call them." 
 " How, madam ! " says he ; " is that your opinion ? I am 
 sure you have a better taste." " It is a pretty kind of 
 magic," says she, " the poets have, to transport an audience 
 from place to place without the help of a coach and horses. 
 I could travel round the world at such a rate. 'Tis such 
 an entertainment as an enchantress finds when she fancies 
 herself in a wood, or upon a mountain, at a feast, or a 
 solemnity ; though at the same time she has never stirred 
 out of her cottage." "Your simile, madam," says Sir 
 
 271 
 
T'he Sutler No. 165. April 29, 1710 
 
 Timothy, " is by no means just," "Pray," says she, "let 
 my similes pass without a criticism. I must confess," 
 continued she (for I found she was resolved to exasperate 
 him), " I laughed very heartily at the last new comedy 
 which you found so much fault with." " But, madam," 
 says he, " you ought not to have laughed ; and I defy 
 any one to show me a single rule that you could laugh by." 
 "Ought not to laugh!" says she: "pray, who should 
 hinder me ? " " Madam," says he, " there are such people 
 in the world as Rapin, Dacier, and several others, that 
 ought to have spoiled your mirth." " I have heard," says 
 the young lady, " that your great critics are always very 
 bad poets : I fancy there is as much difference between the 
 works of one and the other, as there is between the carriage 
 of a dancing-master and a gentleman. I must confess," 
 continued she, " I would not be troubled with so fine a 
 judgment as yours is ; for I find you feel more vexation in 
 a bad comedy than I do in a deep tragedy." " Madam," 
 says Sir Timothy, " that is not my fault ; they should learn 
 the art of writing." " For my part," says the young lady, 
 " I should think the greatest art in your writers of comedies 
 is to please." " To please ! " says Sir Timothy ; and 
 immediately fell a-laughing. " Truly," says she, " that is 
 my opinion." Upon this, he composed his countenance, 
 looked upon his watch, and took his leave. 
 
 I hear that Sir Timothy has not been at my friend's 
 house since this notable conference, to the great satisfaction 
 of the young lady, who by this means has got rid of a 
 very impertinent fop. 
 
 I must confess, I could not but observe, with a great 
 deal of surprise, how this gentleman, by his iJl-nature, 
 folly, and affectation, has made himself capable of suffering 
 so many imaginary pains, and looking with such a senseless 
 severity upon the common diversions of life. 
 
 272 
 
No. 1 66. May 2,17 lo T'ke Tuthr 
 
 No. 1 66. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, April 29, to Tuesday, May 2, 17 10. 
 
 — — Dicenda tacenda loquutus. — Hor., i Ep. vii. 72. 
 
 White s Chocolate-house, May i. 
 
 The world is so overgrown with singularities in 
 behaviour, and method of living, that I have no 
 sooner laid before mankind the absurdity of one species 
 of men, but there starts up to my view some new sect 
 of impertinents that had before escaped notice. This 
 afternoon, as I was talking with fine Mrs. Sprightly's 
 porter, and desiring admittance upon an extraordinary 
 occasion, it was my fate to be spied by Tom Modely 
 riding by in his chariot. He did me the honour to stop, 
 and asked what I did there of a Monday .? I answered 
 that I had business of importance, which I wanted to 
 communicate to the lady of the house. Tom is one of 
 those fools who look upon knowledge of the fashion to be 
 the only liberal science ; and was so rough as to tell me, 
 that a well-bred man would as soon call upon a lady 
 (who keeps a day) at midnight, as on any day but that on 
 which she professes being at home. There are rules and 
 decorums which are never to be transgressed by those 
 who understand the world ; and he who offends in this 
 kind, ought not to take it ill if he is turned away, even 
 when he sees the person look out at her window whom 
 he inquires for. " Nay," said he, " my Lady Dimple is so 
 positive in this rule, that she takes it for a piece of good 
 breeding and distinction to deny herself with her own 
 mouth. Mrs. Comma,' the great scholar, insists upon it ; 
 1 " I have been informed by a relation of hers, that when Mrs. Mary 
 Astell has accidentally seen needless visitors coming, whom she knew 
 VOL. Ill, 273 * 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 1 66. May 2,1710 
 
 and I myself have heard her assert, that a lord's porter, or 
 a lady's woman, cannot be said to lie in that case, because 
 they act by instruction ; and their words are no more 
 their own, than those of a puppet." 
 
 He was going on with this ribaldry, when on a sudden 
 he looked on his watch, and said, he had twenty visits to 
 make, and drove away without further ceremony. I was 
 then at leisure to reflect upon the tasteless manner of life, 
 which a set of idle fellows lead in this town, and spend 
 youth itself with less spirit, than other men do their old 
 age. These expletives in human society, though they 
 are in themselves wholly insignificant, become of some 
 consideration when they are mixed with others. I am 
 very much at a loss how to define, or under what 
 character, distinction, or denomination, to place them, 
 except you give me leave to call them the Order of the 
 Insipids. This order is in its extent like that of the 
 Jesuits, and you see of them in every way of life, and in 
 every profession. Tom Modely has long appeared to me 
 at the head of this species. By being habitually in the 
 best company, he knows perfectly well when a coat is well 
 cut, or a periwig well mounted.' As soon as you enter 
 the place where he is, he tells the next man to him who is 
 your tailor, and judges of you more from the choice of 
 your periwig-maker than of your friend. His business in 
 this world is to be well dressed ; and the greatest cir- 
 cumstance that is to be recorded in his annals is, that he 
 wears twenty shirts a week. Thus, without ever speaking 
 
 to be incapable of discoursing upon any useful subject, she would look 
 out of the window, and jestinglyitell them (as Cato did Nasica), ' Mrs. 
 Astell is not at home ' ; and in good earnest keep them out, not suffering 
 such triflers to make inroads upon her more serious hours " (Ballard's 
 " Memoirs of British Learned Ladies," 1775, p. 309). For Swift's 
 attacks on Mary Astell, see Nos. 32, 63. 
 
 ^ " Monter une perruque " is a French barber's phrase. 
 
 *74 
 
No. i66. May2, lyio The Tatlev 
 
 reason among the men, or passion among the women, he 
 is everywhere well received ; and without any one man's 
 esteem, he has every man's indulgence. 
 
 This order has produced great numbers of tolerable 
 copiers in painting, good rhymers in poetry, and harmless 
 projectors in politics. You may see them at first sight 
 grow acquainted by sympathy, insomuch that one who had 
 not studied nature, and did not know the true cause of 
 their sudden familiarities, would think that they had some 
 secret intimation of each other, like the freemasons. The 
 other day at Will's I heard Modely, and a critic of the 
 same order, show their equal talents with great delight. 
 The learned insipid was commending Racine's turns ; the 
 genteel insipid, Devillier's curls.' 
 
 These creatures, when they are not forced into any 
 particular employment, for want of ideas in their own 
 imaginations, are the constant plague of all they meet with 
 by inquiries for news and scandal, which makes them the 
 heroes of visiting-days, where they help the design of the 
 meeting, which is to pass away that odious thing called 
 Time, in discourses too trivial to raise any reflections which 
 may put well-bred persons to the trouble of thinking. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May i. 
 
 I was looking out of my parlour window this morning," 
 and receiving the honours which Margery, the milkmaid 
 to our lane, was doing me, by dancing before my door 
 
 ^ See Nos. 26, 29. Duvillier or Devillier was a hairdresser. 
 
 ^ May Day. In th.& Spectator {iio. 365) Budgell says : "Itis likewise 
 on the first day of this month that we see the ruddy milkmaid exerting 
 herself in a most sprightly manner under a pyramid of silver tankards, 
 and like the virgin Tarpeia, oppressed by the costly ornaments which her 
 benefactors lay upon her." Similarly, Misson (" Travels in England," 
 p. 307) says : "On the first of May, and the five or six days following, 
 all the pretty young country girls that serve the town with milk, dress 
 themselves up very neatly, and borrow abundance of silver plate, 
 
 275 
 
The Tatler No. i66. May 2,1710 
 
 with the plate of half her customers on her head, when 
 Mr. Clayton," the author of " Arsinoe," made me a visit, 
 and desired me to insert the following advertisement in 
 my ensuing paper : 
 
 The Pastoral Masque composed by Mr. Clayton, 
 author of "Arsinoe," will be performed on Wednesday 
 the 3rd instant, in the great room at York Buildings." 
 Tickets are to be had at White's Chocolate-house, 
 St. James's CofFee-house in St. James's Street, and Young 
 Man's CofFee-house.' 
 
 Note. The tickets delivered out for the 27th of April 
 will be taken then. 
 
 When I granted his request, I made one to him, which 
 was, that the performers should put their instruments in 
 tune before the audience came in ; for that I thought the 
 
 whereof they make a pyramid, which they adorn with ribands and 
 flowers, and carry upon their heads, instead of their common milk- 
 pails. In this equipage, accompanied by some of their fellow milk- 
 maids, and a bagpipe and fiddle, they go from door to door, dancing 
 before the houses of their customers." 
 
 1 "There is a Pastoral Masque to be performed on the 27th inst., in 
 York Buildings, for the benefit of Mr. Clayton, and composed by him. 
 This 'gentleman is the person who introduced the Italian opera into 
 Great Britain, and hopes he has pretensions to the favour of all lovers 
 of music, who can get over the prejudice of his being their country- 
 man " {Tatler, original folio. No. 163). 
 
 Thomas Clayton, in association with Haym and Dieuport, began a 
 series of operatic performances at Drury Lane Theatre in 1705, com- 
 mencing with "Arsinoe," which was a success. In 1707 he produced 
 a setting of Addison's " Rosamond," but it was played only three times. 
 The opera performances were continued until 1711, after which 
 Clayton gave concerts in York Buildings (see Spectator, No. 258). He 
 died about 1730. 
 
 ^ In the Strand. In 171 3 Steele started a scheme for "a noble 
 entertainment for persons of refined taste," in York Buildings. 
 
 ^ At Charing Cross, with a back door into Spring Gardens. 
 
 276 
 
No. i66. May 2,1710 I'he T^athr 
 
 resentment of the Eastern Prince, who, according to the 
 old story, took " tuning " for " playing," to be very just 
 and natural. He was so civil, as not only to promise that 
 favour, but also to assure me, that he would order the 
 heels of the performers to be muffled in cotton, that the 
 artists in so polite an age as ours, may not intermix with 
 their harmony a custom which so nearly resembles the 
 stamping dances of the West Indians or Hottentots. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 A Bass-viol of Mr. BickerstafFs acquaintance, whose 
 mind and fortune do not very exactly agree, proposes to 
 set himself to sale by way of lottery .' Ten thousand 
 pounds is the sum to be raised, at threepence a ticket, in 
 consideration that there are more women who are willing 
 to be married than that can spare a greater sum. He has 
 already made over his person to trustees for the said money 
 to be forthcoming, and ready to take to wife the fortunate 
 woman that wins him. 
 
 N.B. Tickets are given out by Mr. Charles Lillie, and 
 Mr. John Morphew. Each adventurer must be a virgin, 
 and subscribe her name to her ticket.' 
 
 Whereas the several churchwardens of most of the 
 parishes within the bills of mortality, have in an earnest 
 
 1 See Nos. 153, 157, 168. 
 
 2 In the Daily C our ant for Aug. 18, 1 710, there was advertised as 
 just published a pamphlet called "A Good Husband for Five Shil- 
 lings ; or. Esquire Bickerstaff's Lottery for the London Ladies. 
 Wherein those that want bedfellows, in an honest way, will have 
 a fair chance to be well fitted." It was complained that husbands 
 were scarce through the war. The title exhausts all that is of interest 
 in the pamphlet, with the exception of the frontispiece, which repre- 
 sents a room in which a lottery is being drawn, with two wheels of 
 fortune, &c. 
 
 277 
 
^he Tatler No. i66. May 2, 1710 
 
 manner applied themselves by way of petition, and have 
 also made a presentment of the vain and loose deportment 
 during divine service, of persons of too great figure in all 
 their said parishes for their reproof : And whereas it is 
 therein set forth, that by salutations given each other, 
 hints, shrugs, ogles, playing of fans, and fooling with 
 canes at their mouths, and other wanton gesticulations, 
 their whole congregation appears rather a theatrical 
 audience, than a house of devotion : It is hereby ordered, 
 that all canes, cravats, bosom-laces, muffs, fans, snuff-boxes, 
 and all other instruments made use of to give persons 
 unbecoming airs, shall be immediately forfeited and sold ; 
 and of the sum arising from the sale thereof, a ninth part 
 shall be paid to the poor, and the rest to the overseers.' 
 
 ^ Nichols notes that a correction in this number, intimated in the 
 following paper, was actually made in a copy before him, and con- 
 cluded that there was sometimes more than one impression of the 
 original folio issue. This was certainly the case. There is a set of 
 the Tatlers in folio in the British Museum (press-mark 628 m 13) in 
 which many of the numbers are set up somewhat differently from 
 the ordinary issue (Nos. 4, 28, 29, 30, &c.). Sometimes there is a line 
 more or less in a column ; sometimes slightly different type is used 
 in one or two advertisements. 
 
 278 
 
No. 167. May 4,17 lo 'The Tatlcr 
 
 No. 167. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, May 2, to Thursday, May 4, 17 10. 
 
 Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, 
 
 Quam quje sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus 
 
 HoR., Ars Poet. 180. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 2. 
 
 Having received notice, that the famous actor Mr. 
 Betterton' was to be interred this evening in the 
 cloisters near Westminster Abbey, I was resolved to walk 
 thither, and see the last office done to a man whom I had 
 always very much admired, and from whose action I had 
 received more strong impressions of what is great and 
 noble in human nature, than from the arguments of the 
 most solid philosophers, or the descriptions of the most 
 charming poets I had ever read. As the rude and 
 
 ^ See Nos. I, 71, 157. On the 25th of April 1710, there was 
 given for Betterton's benefit, "The Maid's Tragedy" of Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, in which he himself performed his celebrated part of 
 Melantius. This, however, was the last time he was to appear on the 
 stage, for, having been suddenly seized with the gout, and being 
 impatient at the thought of disappointing his friends, he made use of 
 outward applications to reduce the swellings of his feet, which enabled 
 him to walk on the stage, though obliged to have his foot in a slipper. 
 But the fomentations he had used occasioning a revulsion of the 
 gouty humour to the nobler parts, threw the distemper up into his 
 head, and terminated his life on the 28th of April. On the 2nd 
 of May his body was interred with much ceremony in the cloister 
 of Westminster. — " This day is published, ' The Life of Mr. Thomas 
 Betterton'" {Postboy, Sept. 16 to 19, 1 7 10). This book, attributed to 
 Gildon, is dedicated to Richard Steele, Esq. " I have chosen," says 
 the author, " to address this discourse to you, because the Art of which 
 it treats is of your familiar acquaintance, and the graces of action and 
 utterance come naturally under the consideration of a dramatic 
 writer." 
 
 279 
 
'The Tatler No. 167. May 4,1710 
 
 untaught multitude are no way wrought upon more effec- 
 tually than by seeing public punishments and executions, 
 so men of letters and education feel their humanity most 
 forcibly exercised, when they attend the obsequies of men 
 who had arrived, at any perfection in liberal accomplish- 
 ments. Theatrical action is to be esteemed, as such, 
 except it be objected, that we cannot call that an art 
 which cannot be attained by art. Voice, stature, motion, 
 and other gifts, must be very bountifully bestowed by 
 Nature, or labour and industry will but push the unhappy 
 endeavourer, in that way, the further off his wishes. 
 
 Such an actor as Mr. Betterton ought to be recorded 
 with the same respect as Roscius among the Romans. 
 The greatest orator' has thought fit to quote his judg- 
 ment, and celebrate his life. Roscius was the example to 
 all that would form themselves into proper and winning 
 behaviour. His action was so well adapted to the senti- 
 ments he expressed, that the youth of Rome thought they 
 wanted only to be virtuous to be as graceful in their 
 appearance as Roscius. The imagination took a lively 
 impression of what was great and good ; and they who 
 never thought of setting up for the arts of imitation, 
 became themselves imitable characters. 
 
 There is no human invention so aptly calculated for the 
 forming a free-born people as that of a theatre. TuUy 
 reports that the celebrated player of whom I am speaking 
 used frequently to say, " The perfection of an actor is 
 only to become what he is doing." Young men, who are 
 too unattentive to receive lectures, are irresistibly taken with 
 performances. Hence it is, that I extremely lament the 
 little relish the gentry of this nation have at present for 
 the just and noble representations in some of our tragedies. 
 The operas which are of late introduced can leave no 
 
 ' Cicero. 
 z8o 
 
No. 167. May4, lyio The Tatlcr 
 
 trace behind them that can be of service beyond the 
 present moment. To sing and to dance are accomplish- 
 ments very few have any thoughts of practising ; but to 
 speak justly, and move gracefully, is what every man 
 thinks he does perform, or wishes he did. 
 
 I have hardly a notion, that any performer of antiquity 
 could surpass the action of Mr. Betterton in any of the 
 occasions in which he has appeared on our stage. The 
 wonderful agony which he appeared in, when he examined 
 the circumstance of the handkerchief in "Othello " ; the 
 mixture of love that intruded upon his mind upon the 
 innocent answers Desdemona makes, betrayed in his gesture 
 such a variety and vicissitude of passions, as would 
 admonish a man to be afraid of his own heart, and per- 
 fectly convince him, that it is to stab it to admit that 
 worst of daggers, jealousy. Whoever reads in his closet 
 this admirable scene, will find that he cannot, except he 
 has as warm an imagination as Shakespeare himself, find any 
 but dry, incoherent, and broken sentences : but a reader 
 that has seen Betterton act it, observes there could not be 
 a word added ; that longer speeches had been unnatural, 
 nay impossible, in Othello's circumstances. The charming 
 passage in the same tragedy, ^where he tells the manner 
 of winning the aflPection of his mistress, was urged with 
 so moving and graceful an energy, that while I walked in 
 the cloisters, I thought of him with the same concern as 
 if I waited for the remains of a person who had in real 
 life done all that I had seen him represent. The gloom 
 of the place, and faint lights before the ceremony appeared, 
 contributed to the melancholy disposition I was in ; and I 
 began to be extremely afflicted, that Brutus and Cassius 
 had any difference ; that Hotspur's gallantry was so 
 unfortunate ; and that the mirth and good humour of 
 Falstaff could not exempt him from the grave. Nay, this 
 
 281 
 
'The Tatler No. 167. May 4, 1710 
 
 occasion in me, who look upon the distinctions amongst 
 men to be merely scenical, raised reflections upon the 
 emptiness of all human perfection and greatness in general ; 
 and I could not but regret, that the sacred heads which 
 lie buried in the neighbourhood of this little portion of 
 earth in which my poor old friend is deposited, are 
 returned to dust as well as he, and that there is no 
 difference in the grave between the imaginary and the 
 real monarch. This made me say of human life itself 
 with Macbeth : 
 
 " To-morrow, to-morrow, and to-morrow. 
 Creeps in a stealing pace from day to day. 
 To the last moment of recorded time I 
 And all our yesterdays have lighted foois 
 To their eternal night t Out, oat short candle! 
 Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player 
 That struts and frets his hour upon the stage. 
 And then is heard no more." ^ 
 
 The mention I have here made of Mr. Betterton, for 
 whom I had, as long as I have known anything, a very 
 great esteem and gratitude for the pleasure he gave me, can 
 do him no good ; but it may possibly be of service to the 
 unhappy woman he has left behind him,^ to have it known, 
 that this great tragedian was never in a scene half so moving 
 as the circumstances of his affairs created at his departure. 
 His wife, after the cohabitation of forty years in the strictest 
 amity, has long pined away with a sense of his decay, as 
 
 ' " Macbeth," act v. sc. 5, quoted inaccurately by Steele. 
 
 ' Betterton married, in 1662, Maria Saunderson, an actress who 
 seems to have been as good as she was clever. She lost her reason 
 after the death of her husband, but recovered it before her death at the 
 end of 171 1. By her will she bequeathed to Mrs. Bracegirdle, Mrs. 
 Barry, Mr. Doggett, Mr. Wilks, and Mr. Dent, twenty shillings a piece 
 for rings ; and her husband's picture to Mrs. Anne Stevenson, whom 
 she appointed her residuary legatee. 
 
 282 
 
No. 167. May 4,17 lo T'he 'Tatler 
 
 well in his person as his little fortune ; and in proportion 
 to that, she has herself decayed both in her health and her 
 reason. Her husband's death, added to her age and 
 infirmities, would certainly have determined her life, but 
 that the greatness of her distress has been her relief, by a 
 present deprivation of her senses. This absence of reason 
 is her best defence against age, sorrow, poverty, and sick- 
 ness. I dwell upon this account so distinctly, in obedience 
 to a certain great spirit' who hides her name, and has by 
 letter applied to me to recommend to her some object of 
 compassion, from whom she may be concealed. 
 
 This, I think, is a proper occasion for exerting such 
 heroic generosity ; and as there is an ingenuous shame in 
 those who have known better fortune to be reduced to 
 receive obligations, as well as a becoming pain in the truly 
 generous to receive thanks in this case, both those delicacies 
 are preserved ; for the person obliged is as incapable of 
 knowing her benefactress, as her benefactress is unwilling 
 to be known by her. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Whereas it has been signified to the Censor, that under 
 the pretence that he has encouraged the Moving Picture,' 
 and particularly admired the Walking Statue, some persons 
 within the Liberties of Westminster have vended Walking 
 Pictures, insomuch that the said pictures have within few 
 days after sales by auction returned to the habitation of 
 their first proprietors ; that matter has been narrowly 
 looked into, and orders are given to Pacolet to take notice 
 
 ' Possibly Lady Elizabeth Hastings (see Nos. 42, 49), or perhaps 
 Queen Anne, though it is not likely that she consulted Steele by letter 
 on the subject. The Queen gave Mrs. Betterton a pension on the 
 death of her husband, "but," says Gibber, "she lived not to receive 
 more than the first half year of it." 
 
 ' See No. 129. 
 
 283 
 
'The Tatler No. i68. May 6,1710 
 
 of all who are concerned in such frauds, with directions to 
 draw their pictures, that they may be hanged in effigy, in 
 terrorem of all auctions for the future. 
 
 No. 168. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, May 4, to Saturday, May 6, 17 10. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 5. 
 
 Never was man so much teased, or suffered half the 
 uneasiness, as I have done this evening, between a 
 couple of fellows with whom I was unfortunately engaged 
 to sup, where there were also several others in company. 
 One of them is the most invincibly impudent, and the 
 other as incorrigibly absurd. Upon hearing my name, 
 the man of audacity, as he calls himself, began to assume 
 an awkward way of reserve, by way of ridicule upon me 
 as a Censor, and said, he must have a care of his 
 behaviour, for there would notes be writ upon all that 
 should pass. The man of freedom and ease (for such 
 the other thinks himself) asked me, whether my sister 
 Jenny was breeding or not ? After they had done mth 
 me, they were impertinent to a very smart, but well-bred 
 man, who stood his ground very well, and let the company 
 see they ought, but could not be out of countenance. I 
 look upon such a defence as a real good action ; for while 
 he received their fire, there was a modest and worthy 
 young gentleman sat secure by him, and a lady of the 
 family at the same time, guarded against the nauseous 
 familiarity of the one, and the more painful mirth of the 
 other. This conversation, where there were a thousand 
 things said not worth repeating, made me consider with 
 myself, how it is that men of these disagreeable characters 
 
 284 
 
No. 1 68. May 6,17 lo 'The Tatlcr 
 
 often go great lengths in the world, and seldom fail of 
 outstripping men of merit ; nay, succeed so well, that with 
 a load of imperfections on their heads, they go on in 
 opposition to general disesteem, while they who are every 
 way their superiors, languish away their days, though 
 possessed of the approbation and goodwill of all who know 
 them. 
 
 If we would examine into the secret spring of action in 
 the impudent and the absurd, we shall find, though they 
 bear a great resemblance in their behaviour, that they 
 move upon very different principles. The impudent are 
 pressing, though they know they are disagreeable ; the 
 absurd are importunate, because they think they are accept- 
 able. Impudence is a vice, and absurdity a folly. Sir 
 Francis Bacon talks very agreeably upon the subject of 
 impudence.^ He takes notice, that the orator being 
 asked, what was the first, second, and third requisite, to 
 make a fine speaker, still answered, " Action." This, 
 said he, is the very outward form of speaking, and yet it 
 is what with the generality has more force than the most 
 consummate abilities. Impudence is to the rest of man- 
 kind of the same use which action is to orators. 
 
 The truth is, the gross of men are governed more by 
 appearances than redities, and the impudent man in his 
 air and behaviour undertakes for himself that he has 
 ability and merit, while the modest or diffident gives him- 
 self up as one who is possessed of neither. For this 
 reason, men of front carry things before them with little 
 opposition, and make so skilful a use of their talent, that 
 they can grow out of humour like men of consequence, 
 and be sour, and make their satisfaction do them the same 
 service as desert. This way of thinking has often fur- 
 nished me with an apology for great men who confer 
 1 Essay xii., " Of Boldness." 
 
'The Tatler No. 1 68. May 6,1710 
 
 favours on the impudent. In carrying on the government 
 of mankind, they are not to consider what men they 
 themselves approve in their closets and private conversa- 
 tions, but what men will extend themselves furthest, and 
 more generally pass upon the world for such as their 
 patrons want in such and such stations, and consequently 
 take so much work off the hands of those who employ 
 them. 
 
 Far be it that I should attempt to lessen the acceptance 
 which men of this character meet with in the world ; but 
 I humbly propose only, that they who have merit of a 
 different kind, would accomplish themselves in some degree 
 with this quality of which I am now treating. Nay, I allow 
 these gentlemen to press as forward as they please in the 
 advancement of their interests and fortunes, but not to 
 intrude upon others in conversation also : let them do 
 what they can with the rich and the great, as far as they 
 are suffered, but let them not interrupt the easy and 
 agreeable. They may be useful as servants in ambition, but 
 never as associates in pleasure. However, as I would still 
 drive at something instructive in every Lucubration, I must 
 recommend it to all men who feel in themselves an impulse 
 towards attempting laudable actions, to acquire such a 
 degree of assurance, as never to lose the possession of 
 themselves in public or private, so far as to be incapable 
 of acting with a due decorum on any occasion they are 
 called to. It is a mean want of fortitude in a good 
 man, not to be able to do a virtuous action with as 
 much confidence as an impudent fellow does an ill one. 
 There is no way of mending such false modesty, but by 
 laying it down for a rule, that there is nothing shameful 
 but what is criminal. 
 
 The Jesuits, an order whose institution is perfectly 
 calculated for making a progress in the world, take care 
 
 286 
 
No. 1 68. May 6,17 lo T" h 6 'Tat let 
 
 to accomplish their disciples for it, by breaking them of 
 all impertinent bashfulness, and accustoming then to a 
 ready performance of all indifferent things. I remember 
 in my travels, when I was once at a public exercise in one 
 of their schools, a young man made a most admirable 
 speech, with all the beauty of action, cadence of voice, and 
 force of argument imaginable, in defence of the love of 
 glory. We were all enamoured with the grace of the 
 youth, as he came down from the desk where he spoke 
 to present a copy of his speech to the head of the society. 
 The principal received it in a very obliging manner, 
 and bid him go to the market-place and fetch a joint 
 of meat, for he should dine with him. He bowed, and 
 in a trice the orator returned, full of the sense of glory 
 in this obedience, and with the best shoulder of mutton in 
 the market. 
 
 This treatment capacitates them for every scene of life. 
 I therefore recommend it to the consideration of all who 
 have the instruction of youth, which of the two is the 
 most inexcusable, he who does everything by the mere 
 force of his impudence, or who performs nothing through 
 the oppression of his modesty ? In a word, it is a 
 weakness not to be able to attempt what a man thinks 
 he ought, and there is no modesty but in self-denial. 
 
 P.S. Upon my coming home I received the following 
 petition and letter : 
 
 " The humble petition of Sarah Lately : 
 " Sheweth, 
 " '"T^hat your petitioner has been one of those ladies 
 A who has had fine things constantly spoken to 
 her in general terms, and lived, during her most blooming 
 years, in daily expectation of declarations of marriage, but 
 never had one made to her. 
 
 287 
 
'The Tatler No. i68. May 6,1710 
 
 " That she is now in her grand climacteric ; which 
 being above the space of four virginities, accounting at 1 5 
 years each, 
 
 " Your petitioner most humbly prays, that in the lottery 
 for the Bass-viol ' she may have four tickets, in considera- 
 tion that her single life has been occasioned by the incon- 
 stancy of her lovers, and not through the cruelty or 
 forwardness of your petitioner. 
 
 " And your Petitioner shall," &c. 
 
 "Mr. BicKERSTAFF, "May 3,1710. 
 
 " A ccording to my fancy, you took a much better way 
 
 ■**■ to dispose of a Bass-viol in yesterday's paper than 
 
 you did in your table of marriage.^ I desire the benefit of 
 
 a lottery for myself too The manner of it I leave to 
 
 your own discretion : only if you can allow the tickets 
 
 at above five farthings a piece. Pray accept of one ticket 
 for your trouble, and I wish you may be the fortunate man 
 that wins. 
 
 " Your very humble Servant till then, 
 
 "Isabella Kit." 
 
 I must own the request of the aged petitioner to be 
 founded upon a very undeserved distress ; and since she 
 might, had she had justice done her, been mother of many 
 pretenders to this prize, instead of being one herself, I do 
 readily grant her demand ; but as for the proposal of 
 Mrs. Isabella Kit, I cannot project a lottery for her, until 
 I have security she will surrender herself to the winner. 
 
 ' See No. 166. ^ See Nos. 157, 160. 
 
No. 169. May 9,17 lo T'ke I'atler 
 
 No. 169. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, May 6, to Tuesday, May 9, 17 10. 
 
 O rus ! Quando ego te aspiciam ? quandoque licebit 
 Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno, et inertibus horis, 
 Ducere sollicitae jucunda oblivia vitae ? 
 
 HoR., 2 Sat. vi. 60. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 8. 
 
 '' I "'he summer season now approaching, several of our 
 -^ family have invited me to pass away a month or two 
 in the country, and indeed nothing could be more agree- 
 able to me than such a recess, did I not consider that I am 
 by two quarts a worse companion than when I was last 
 among my relations : and I am admonished by some of 
 our club, who have lately visited Staffordshire, that they 
 drink at a greater rate than they did at that time. As 
 every soil does not produce every fruit or tree, so every 
 vice is not the growth of every kind of life ; and I have, 
 ever since I could think, been astonished that drinking 
 should be the vice of the country. If it were possible to 
 add to all our senses, as we do to that of sight, by per- 
 spectives, we should methinks more particularly labour to 
 improve them in the midst of the variety of beauteous 
 objects which Nature has produced to entertain us in the 
 country ; and do we in that place destroy the use of what 
 organs we have ? As for my part, I cannot but lament 
 the destruction that has been made of the wild beasts of 
 the field, when I see large tracts of earth possessed by men 
 who take no advantage of their being rational, but lead 
 mere animal lives, making it their whole endeavour to kill 
 in themselves all they have above beasts ; to wit, the use 
 of reason, and taste of society. It is frequently boasted 
 
 VOL. III. 289 T 
 
'The Tatler No. 169. May 9,1710 
 
 in the writings of orators and poets, that it is to eloquence 
 and poesy we owe that we are drawn out of woods and 
 solitudes into towns and cities, and from a wild and savage 
 being become acquainted with the laws of humanity and 
 civility. If we are obliged to these arts for so great 
 service, I could wish they were employed to give us a 
 second turn ; that as they have brought us to dwell in 
 society (a blessing which no other creatures know), so 
 they would persuade us, now they have settled us, to lay 
 out all our thoughts in surpassing each other in those 
 faculties in which only we excel other creatures. But it is 
 at present so far otherwise, that the contention seems to 
 be, who shall be most eminent in performances wherein 
 beasts enjoy greater abilities than we have. I'll undertake, 
 were the butler and swineherd, at any true esquire's in 
 Great Britain, to keep and compare accounts of what wash 
 is drunk up in so many hours in the parlour and the pig- 
 sty, it would appear, the gentleman of the house gives 
 much more to his friends than his hogs. 
 
 This, with many other evils, arises from the error in 
 men's judgments, and not making true distinctions between 
 persons and things. It is usually thought, that a few 
 sheets of parchment, made before a male and female of 
 wealthy houses come together, give the heirs and descend- 
 ants of that marriage possession of lands and tenements ; 
 but the truth is, there is no man who can be said to 
 be proprietor of an estate, but he who knows how to 
 enjoy it. Nay, it shall never be allowed, that the land is 
 not a waste, when the master is uncultivated. Therefore, 
 to avoid confusion, it is to be noted, that a peasant with a 
 great estate is but an incumbent, and that he must be a 
 gentleman to be a landlord. A landlord enjoys what he 
 has with his heart, an incumbent with his stomach. 
 Gluttony, drunkenness, and riot, are the entertainments of 
 
 290 
 
No. 169. May 9,17 lo The I'atler 
 
 an incumbent ; benevolence, civility, social and human 
 virtues, the accomplishments of a landlord. Who, that 
 has any passion for his native country, does not think it 
 worse than conquered, when so large diversions of it are in 
 the hands of savages, that know no use of property but 
 to be tyrants ; or liberty, but to be unmannerly ? A 
 gentleman in a country life enjoys Paradise with a temper 
 fit for it ; a clown is cursed in it with all the cutting and 
 unruly passions man could be tormented with when he 
 was expelled from it. 
 
 There is no character more deservedly esteemed than 
 that of a country gentleman, who understands the station 
 in which heaven and nature have placed him. He is 
 father to his tenants, and patron to his neighbours, and is 
 more superior to those of lower fortune by his benevolence 
 than his possessions. He justly divides his time between 
 solitude and company, so as to use the one for the other. 
 His life is spent in the good offices of an advocate, a 
 referee, a companion, a mediator, and a friend. His 
 counsel and knowledge are a guard to the simplicity and 
 innocence of those of lower talents, and the entertainment 
 and happiness of those of equal. When a man in a 
 country life has this turn, as it is to be hoped thousands 
 have, he lives in a more happy condition than any is 
 described in the pastoral descriptions of poets, or the vain- 
 glorious solitudes recorded by philosophers. 
 
 To a thinking man it would seem prodigious, that the 
 very situation in a country life does not incline men to a 
 scorn of the mean gratifications some take in it. To 
 stand by a stream, naturally lulls the mind into composure 
 and reverence ; to walk in shades, diversifies that pleasure ; 
 and a bright sunshine makes a man consider all nature in 
 gladness, and himself the happiest being in it, as he is the 
 most conscious of her gifts and enjoyments. It would be 
 
 291 
 
The Matter No. 169. May 9,1710 
 
 the most impertinent piece of pedantry imaginable to form 
 our pleasures by imitation of others. I will not therefore 
 mention Scipio and Laslius, who are generally produced on 
 this subject as authorities for the charms of a rural life. 
 He that does not feel the force of agreeable views and 
 situations in his own mind, will hardly arrive at the satis- 
 factions they bring from the reflections of others. How- 
 ever, they who have a taste that way, are more particularly 
 inflamed with desire when they see others in the enjoyment 
 of it, especially when men carry into the country a know- 
 ledge of the world as well as of nature. The leisure of 
 such persons is endeared and refined by reflection upon 
 cares and inquietudes. The absence of past labours 
 doubles present pleasures, which is still augmented, if the 
 person in solitude has the happiness of being addicted to 
 letters. My cousin Frank BickerstafF gives me a very 
 good notion of this sort of felicity in the following 
 letter : 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " T write this to communicate to you the happiness I have 
 -*■ in the neighbourhood and conversation of the noble 
 lord whose health you inquired after in your last. I have 
 bought that little hovel which borders upon his royalty ; 
 but am so far from being oppressed by his greatness, that 
 I who know no envy, and he who is above pride, mutually 
 recommend ourselves to each other by the difference of our 
 fortunes. He esteems me for being so well pleased with a 
 little, and I admire him for enjoying so handsomely a great 
 deal. He has not the little taste of observing the colour 
 of a tulip, or the edging of a leaf of box, but rejoices in 
 open views, the regularity of this plantation, and the wild- 
 ness of another, as well as the fall of a river, the rising of 
 a promontory, and all other objects fit to entertain a mind 
 
 292 
 
No. lyo. May ii,i7io 'The Tuthr 
 
 like his, that has been long versed in great and public 
 amusements. The make of the soul is as much seen in 
 leisure as in business. He has long lived in Courts, and 
 been admired in assemblies, so that he has added to 
 experience a most charming eloquence ; by which he com- 
 municates to me the ideas of my own mind upon the 
 objects we meet with, so agreeably, that with his company 
 in the fields, I at once enjoy the country, and a landscape 
 of it. He is now altering the course of canals and rivulets, 
 in which he has an eye to his neighbour's satisfaction, as 
 well as his own. He often makes me presents by turning 
 the water into my grounds, and sends me fish by their own 
 streams. To avoid my thanks, he makes Nature the 
 instrument of his bounty, and does all good offices so 
 much with the air of a companion, that his frankness hides 
 his own condescension, as well as my gratitude. Leave 
 the world to itself, and come see us. 
 
 " Your affectionate Cousin, 
 
 "Francis Bickerstaff." 
 
 No. 170. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Tuesday, May 9, to Thursday, May 11, 17 10. 
 
 Fortuna skvo laeta negotio et 
 Ludum insolentem ludere pertinax 
 Transmutat incertos honores. 
 Nunc mihi, nunc alii, benigna. 
 
 HoR,, 3 Od. xxix. 49. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 10. 
 
 Having this morning spent some time in reading on 
 the subject of the vicissitude of human life, I laid 
 aside my book, and began to ruminate on the discourse 
 
 293 
 
'The I'atler No. 170. May 11,1710 
 
 which raised in me those reflections. I believed it a very- 
 good office to the world, to sit down and show others the 
 road in which I am experienced by my wanderings an(^ 
 errors. This is Seneca's way of thinking, and he had half 
 convinced me, how dangerous it is to our true happiness 
 and tranquillity to fix our minds upon anything which is iii 
 the power of Fortune. It is excusable only in animals 
 who have not the use of reason, to be catched by hooks 
 and baits. Wealth, glory, and power, which the ordinary 
 people look up at with admiration, the learned and wise 
 know to be only so many snares laid to enslave them. 
 There is nothing further to be sought for with earnestness, 
 than what will clothe and feed us. If we pamper ourselves 
 in our diet, or give our imaginations a loose in our desires^ 
 the body will no longer obey the mind. Let us think no 
 further than to defend ourselves against hunger, thirst, 
 and cold. We are to remember, that everything else is 
 despicable, and not worth our care. To want little is true 
 grandeur, and very few things are great to a great mind. 
 Those who form their thoughts in this manner, and 
 abstract themselves from the world, are out of the way of 
 Fortune, and can look with contempt both on her favours 
 and her frowns. At the same time, they who separate 
 themselves from the immediate commerce with the busy 
 part of mankind, are still beneficial to them, while by their 
 studies and writings they recommend to them the small 
 value which ought to be put upon what they pursue with 
 so much labour and disquiet. Whilst such men are 
 thought the most idle, they are the most usefully employed. 
 They have all things, both human and divine, under con- 
 sideration. To be perfectly free from the insults of 
 fortune, we should arm ourselves with their reflections. 
 We should learn, that none but intellectual possessions are 
 what we can properly call our own. All things from 
 
 294 
 
No. lyo. May 11,1710 I'he 'fatlcr 
 
 without are but borrowed. What Fortune gives us, is not 
 ours ; and whatever she gives, she can take away. 
 
 It is a common imputation to Seneca, that though he 
 declaimed with so much strength of reason, and a stoical 
 contempt of riches and power, he was at the same time 
 one of the richest and most powerful men in Rome. I 
 know no instance of his being insolent in that fortune, and 
 can therefore read his thoughts on those subjects with the 
 more deference. I will not give philosophy so poor a look, 
 as to say it cannot live in courts ; but I am of opinion, 
 that it is there in the greatest eminence, when amidst the 
 affluence of all the world can bestow, and the addresses of 
 a crowd who follow him for that reason, a man can think 
 both of himself and those about him abstracted from these 
 circumstances. Such a philosopher is as much above an 
 anchorite, as a wise matron, who passes through the world 
 with innocence, is preferable to the nun who locks herself 
 up from it. 
 
 Full of these thoughts I left my lodgings, and took a 
 walk to the Court end of the town ; and the hurry, and 
 busy faces I met with about Whitehall, made me form to 
 myself ideas of the different prospects of all I saw, from 
 the turn and cast of their countenances. All, methought, 
 had the same thing in view, but prosecuted their hopes 
 with a different air : some showed an unbecoming eager- 
 ness, some a surly impatience, some a winning deference, 
 but the generality a servile complaisance. 
 
 I could not but observe, as I roved about the offices, 
 that all who were still but in expectation, murmured at 
 Fortune ; and all who had obtained their wishes, imme- 
 diately began to say, there was no such being. Each 
 believed it an act of blind chance that any other man was 
 preferred, but owed only to service and merit what he had 
 obtained himself. It is the fault of studious men to appear 
 
 295 
 
The T'atler No. 170. May 11,1710 
 
 in public with too contemplative a carriage ; and I began 
 to observe, that my figure, age, and dress, made me par- 
 ticular : for which reason I thought it better to remove a 
 studious countenance from among busy ones, and take a 
 turn with a friend in the Privy Garden.' 
 
 When my friend was alone with me there, " Isaac," said 
 he, " I know you came abroad only to moralise and make 
 observations, and I will carry you hard by, where you shall 
 see all that you have yourself considered or read in authors, 
 or collected from experience, concerning blind Fortune and 
 irresistible Destiny, illustrated in real persons and proper 
 mechanisms. The Graces, the Muses, the Fates, all the 
 beings which have a good or evil influence upon human 
 life, are, you'll say, very justly figured in the persons 
 of women ; and where I am carrying you, you'll see 
 enough of that sex together, in an employment which will 
 have so important an eiFect upon those who are to receive 
 their manufacture, as will make them be respectively called 
 Deities or Furies, as their labour shall prove disadvantageous 
 or successful to their votaries." Without waiting for my 
 answer, he carried me to an apartment contiguous to the 
 Banqueting House, where there were placed at two long 
 tables a large company of young women, in decent and 
 agreeable habits, making up tickets for the lottery appointed 
 by the Government, There walked between the tables a 
 person who presided over the work. This gentlewoman 
 seemed an emblem of Fortune, she commanded as if uncon- 
 cerned in their business ; and though everything was per- 
 formed by her direction, she did not visibly interpose in 
 
 ' Now Whitehall Gardens, between Parliament Street and the 
 Thames. There Pepys had the pleasure of seeing Lady Castlemaine 
 in 1662 : "In the Privy Garden saw the finest smocks and linen petti- 
 coats of my Lady Castlemaine's, laced with rich lace at the bottom ; 
 and did me good to look at them." 
 
 296 
 
No. lyo. Mayii.iyio I'he 'Tatler 
 
 particulars. She seemed in pain at our near approach to her, 
 and most to approve us, when we made her no advances. Her 
 height, her mien, her gesture, her shape, and her counten- 
 ance, had something that spoke both familiarity and dignity. 
 She therefore appeared to me not only a picture of Fortune, 
 but of Fortune as I liked her ; which made me break out 
 in the following words : 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 " T am very glad to see the fate of the many who now lan- 
 -■■ guish in expectation of what will be the event of your 
 labours in the hands of one who can act with so impartial an 
 indifference. Pardon me, that have often seen you before, 
 and have lost you for want of the respect due to you. Let 
 me beg of you, who have both the furnishing and turmng 
 of that wheel of lots, to be unlike the rest of your sex, 
 repulse the forward and the bold, and favour the modest 
 and the humble. I know you fly the importunate, but 
 smile no more on the careless. Add not to the coffers of 
 the usurer, but give the power of bestowing to the gene- 
 rous. Continue his wants who cannot enjoy or communi- 
 cate plenty ; but turn away his poverty, who can bear it 
 with more ease than he can see it in another." 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Whereas Philander signified to Clarinda by letter bear- 
 ing date Thursday 12 o'clock, that he had lost his heart 
 by a shot from her eyes, and desired she would condescend 
 to meet him the same day at eight in the evening at 
 Rosamond's Pond,' faithfully protesting, that in case she 
 would not do him that honour, she might see the body of 
 the said Philander the next day floating on the said lake 
 of Love, and that he desired only three sighs upon view 
 
 ' See No. 60. 
 297 
 
'The Tatler No. 171. May 13, 1710 
 
 of his said body : it is desired, if he has not made away 
 with himself accordingly, that he would forthwith show 
 himself to the coroner of the city of Westminster ; or 
 Clarinda, being an old offender, will be found guilty of 
 wilful murder. 
 
 No. 171. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Thursday, May ii, to Saturday, May 13, 17 10. 
 
 Alter rixatur de lana sxpe caprina, 
 Propugnat nugis armatus. — 
 
 HoR., 1 Ep. xviii. 15. 
 
 Grecian Coffee-house, May 11. 
 
 It has happened to be for some days the deliberation at 
 the learnedest board in this house, whence honour and 
 title had its first original. Timoleon, who is very 
 particular in his opinions, but is thought particular for no 
 other cause but that he acts against depraved custom, by 
 the rules of nature and reason, in a very handsome dis- 
 course gave the company to understand, that in those 
 ages which first degenerated from simplicity of life, and 
 natural justice, the wise among them thought it necessary 
 to inspire men with the love of virtue, by giving them 
 who adhered to the interests of innocence and truth, some 
 distinguishing name to raise them above the common level 
 of mankind. This way of fixing appellations of credit 
 upon eminent merit, was what gave being to titles and 
 terms of honour. " Such a name," continued he, " without 
 the qualities which should give a man pretence to be 
 exalted above others, does but turn him to jest and 
 ridicule. Should one see another cudgelled, or scurvily 
 treated, do you think a man so used would take it kindly 
 
 298 
 
No. lyi. Mayi3, lyio The T'atlev 
 
 to be called Hector, or Alexander? Everything must 
 bear a proportion with the outward value that is set upon 
 it ; or instead of being long had in veneration, that very 
 term of esteem will become a word of reproach." When 
 Timoleon had done speaking, Urbanus pursued the same 
 purpose, by giving an account of the manner in which the 
 Indian kings,' who were lately in Great Britain, did 
 honour to the person where they lodged. " They were 
 placed," said he, " in a handsome apartment, at an 
 upholsterer's in King Street, Covent Garden. The man of 
 the house, it seems, had been very observant of them, and 
 
 ' The four kings were Iroquois chiefs who had been persuaded by- 
 adjacent British colonists to come and pay their respects to Queen 
 Anne, and satisfy themselves of the untruth of the assertion made by 
 the Jesuits, that the English and all other nations were vassals to the 
 French king. They were said also to have been told that the Saviour 
 was born in France and crucified in England. The names of the kings, 
 according to Boyer's " Annals," were : Tee Yee Neen Ho Ga Prow, 
 and Sa Ga Yean Qua Prah Ton, of the Maquas ; Elow Oh Kaom, and 
 Oh Nee Veath Ton No Prow, of the River Sachem, and the Ganajoh- 
 hore Sachem. They had an audience of the Queen on April ig, 1710, 
 and were afterwards entertained by the Lords Commissioners of the 
 Admiralty, the Duke of Ormonde, &c., until their departure for Boston 
 on the 8th of May. See Addison's paper in the Spectator, No. 50, and 
 Swift's remark upon it in the "Journal to Stella," April 28, 171 1. A 
 concert at York Buildings on May i, 1710, "for the entertainment 
 of the Emperor of the Mohocks and the three Indian kings," was 
 advertised in No. 165 of the Tatler. The kings were lodged at the Two 
 Crowns and Cushion, the house of an upholsterer in Covent Garden, 
 probably Thomas Arne, the father of Dr. Thomas Arne the musician, 
 and Mrs. Cibber, the actress. The following advertisement appeared 
 at the end of No. 250, dated Nov. 14, 1710, and with some variation 
 was reprinted in Nos. 253, 256, and 267 of the original edition : " This 
 is to give notice, that the metzotinto-prints, by John Simmonds, in 
 whole lengths, of the four Indian kings, that are done from the 
 original pictures drawn by John Verelst, which her Majesty has at her 
 palace at Kensington, are now to be delivered to subscribers, and 
 sold at the Rainbow and Dove, the corner of Ivy Bridge in the 
 Strand." 
 
 299 
 
l^he T'atler No. 171. Mayi3, 1710 
 
 ready in their service. These just and generous princes, 
 who act according to the dictates of natural justice, thought 
 it proper to confer some dignity upon their landlord 
 before they left his house. One of them had been sick 
 during his residence there, and having never before been 
 in a bed, had a very great veneration for him who made 
 that engine of repose, so useful and so necessary in his 
 distress. It was consulted among the four princes, by 
 what name to dignify his great merit and services. The 
 Emperor of the Mohocks, and the other three kings, stood 
 up, and in that posture recounted the civilities they had 
 received, and particularly repeated the care which was 
 taken of their sick brother. This, in their imagination, 
 who are used to know the injuries of weather, and the 
 vicissitudes of cold and heat, gave them very great im- 
 pressions of a skilful upholsterer, whose furniture was so 
 well contrived for their protection on such occasions. It 
 is with these less instructed (I will not say less knowing) 
 people, the manner of doing honour, to impose some name 
 significant of the qualities of the person they distinguish, 
 and the good offices received from him. It was therefore 
 resolved, to call their landlord Cadaroque, which is the 
 name of the strongest fort in their part of the world. 
 When they had agreed upon the name, they sent for their 
 landlord, and as he entered into their presence, the 
 Emperor of the Mohocks taking him by the hand, called 
 him Cadaroque. After which the other three princes 
 repeated the same word and ceremony." 
 
 Timoleon appeared much satisfied with this account, 
 and having a philosophic turn, began to argue against 
 the modes and manners of those nations which we esteem 
 polite, and express himself with disdain at our usual 
 method of calling such as are strangers to our innovations, 
 barbarous. " I have," says he, "so great a deference for the 
 
 300 
 
No. lyi. May 13, lyio T'he T^utler 
 
 distinction given by these princes, that Cadaroque shall be 
 my upholsterer " He was going on, but the in- 
 tended discourse was interrupted by Minucio, who sat 
 near him, a small philosopher, who is also somewhat of 
 a politician ; one of those who sets up for knowledge by 
 doubting, and has no other way of making himself con- 
 siderable, but by contradicting all he hears said. He has, 
 besides much doubt and spirit of contradiction, a constant 
 suspicion as to State affairs. This accomplished gentle- 
 man, with a very awful brow, and a countenance full ot 
 weight, told Timoleon, that it was a great misfortune 
 men of letters seldom looked into the bottom of things. 
 " Will any man," continued he, " persuade me, that this 
 was not from the beginning to the end a concerted 
 affair } Who can convince the world, that four kings 
 shall come over here, and lie at the Two Crowns and 
 Cushion,' and one of them fall sick, and the place be called 
 King Street, and all this by mere accident } No, no : 
 to a man of very small penetration, it appears, that Tee 
 Yee Neen Ho Ga Row, Emperor of the Mohocks, was 
 prepared for this adventure beforehand. I do not care 
 to contradict any gentleman in his discourse ; but I must 
 say, however, Sa Ga Yeath Rua Geth Ton, and E Tow 
 Oh Koam, might be surprised in this matter ; nevertheless, 
 Ho Nee Yeth Taw No Row knew it before he set foot on 
 the English shore." 
 
 Timoleon looked steadfastly at him for some time, 
 then shaked his head, paid for his tea, and marched off. 
 Several others who sat around him, were in their turns 
 attacked by this ready disputant. A gentleman who was 
 at some distance, happened in discourse to say it was four 
 miles to Hammersmith. " I must beg your pardon," says 
 Minucio, " when we say a place is so far off, we do not 
 
 * Arne's shop. 
 301 
 
'The Tatler No. 171. Mayi3, 1710 
 
 mean exactly from the very spot of earth we are in, but 
 from the town where we are ; so that you must begin 
 your account from the end of Piccadilly ; and if you do so, 
 I'll lay any man ten to one, it is not above three good 
 miles off." Another, about Minucio's level of understand- 
 ing, began to take him up in this important argument, 
 and maintained, that considering the way from Pimlico 
 at the end of St. James's Park, and the crossing from 
 Chelsea by Earl's Court, he would stand to it, that it was 
 full four miles. But Minucio replied with great vehem- 
 ence, and seemed so much to have the better of the dispute, 
 that this adversary quitted the field, as well as the other. 
 I sat till I saw the table almost all vanished, where, for 
 want of discourse, Minucio asked me, how I did .' To 
 which I answered, " Very well." " That's very much," said 
 he ; "I assure you, you look paler than ordinary." " Nay," 
 thought I, " if he won't allow me to know whether I am well 
 or not, there is no staying for me neither." Upon which 
 I took my leave, pondering as I went home at this strange 
 poverty of imagination, which makes men run into the 
 fault of giving contradiction. They want in their minds 
 entertainment for themselves or their company, and there- 
 fore build all they speak upon what is started by others ; 
 and since they cannot improve that foundation, they 
 strive to destroy it. The only way of dealing with these 
 people is to answer in monosyllables, or by way of 
 question. When one of them tells you a thing that he 
 thinks extraordinary, I go no further than, " Say you so, 
 sir } Indeed ! Heyday ! " or " Is it come to that !" 
 These little rules, which appear but silly in the repetition, 
 have brought me with great tranquillity to this age. And 
 I have made it an observation, that as assent is more 
 agreeable than flattery, so contradiction is more odious 
 than culumny. 
 
 302 
 
No. 172, May 16,1710 'T'he l' atlcr 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Mr. BickerstafFs aerial messenger has brought him a 
 report of what passed at the auction of pictures which was 
 in Somerset House Yard on Monday last, and finds there 
 were no " screens " present, but all transacted with great 
 justice. 
 
 N.B. All false buyers at auctions being employed only 
 to hide others, are from this day forward to be known in 
 Mr. BickerstafFs writings by the word " screens." 
 
 No. 172. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, May 13, to Tuesday, May 16, 17 10. 
 
 Quid quisque vitet, nunquam homini satis 
 Cautum est in horas. — Hor., 2 Od. xiii. 13. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 15. 
 
 When a man is in a serious mood, and ponders upon 
 his own make, with a retrospect to the actions of 
 his life, and the many fatal miscarriages in it, which he 
 owes to ungoverned passions, he is then apt to say to him- 
 self, that experience has guarded him against such errors 
 for the future : but nature often recurs in spite of his best 
 resolutions, and it is to the very end of our days a struggle 
 between our reason and our temper, which shall have the 
 empire over us. However, this is very much to be helped 
 by circumspection, and a constant alarm against the first 
 onsets of passion. As this is in general a necessary care to 
 make a man's life easy and agreeable to himself, so it is 
 more particularly the duty of such as are engaged in friend- 
 ship and more near commerce with others. Those who 
 have their joys, have also their griefs in proportion, and 
 
 303 
 
The Tatler No. 172. May i6, 1710 
 
 none can extremely exalt or depress friends, but friends. 
 The harsh things which come from the rest of the world, 
 are received and repulsed with that spirit which every 
 honest man bears for his own vindication ; but unkindness 
 in words or actions among friends, affects us at the first 
 instant in the inmost recesses of our souls. Indifferent 
 people, if I may so say, can wound us only in heterogeneous 
 parts, maim us in our legs or arms ; but the friend can 
 make no pass but at the heart itself On the other side, 
 the most impotent assistance, the mere well-wishes of a 
 friend, gives a man constancy and courage against the most 
 prevailing force of his enemies. It is here only a man 
 enjoys and suffers to the quick. For this reason, the most 
 gentle behaviour is absolutely necessary to maintain friend- 
 ship in any degree above the common level of acquaintance. 
 But there is a relation of life much more near than the 
 most strict and sacred friendship, that is to say, marriage. 
 This union is of too close and delicate a nature to be 
 easily conceived by those who do not know that condition 
 by experience. Here a man should, if possible, soften his 
 passions ; if not for his own ease, in compliance to a 
 creature formed with a mind of a quite different make 
 from his own. I am sure, I do not mean it an injury to 
 women, when I say there is a sort of sex in souls. I am 
 tender of offending them, and know it is hard not to do 
 it on this subject ; but I must go on to say, that the soul 
 of a man and that of a woman are made very unlike, 
 according to the employments for which they are designed. 
 The ladies will please to observe, I say, our minds have 
 different, not superior qualities to theirs. The virtues 
 have respectively a masculine and a feminine cast. What 
 we call in men wisdom, is in women prudence. It is a 
 partiality to call one greater than the other. A prudent 
 woman is in the same class of honour as a wise man, and 
 
 304 
 
No. 172. May i6, lyio The 'TatUr 
 
 the scandals in the way of both are equally dangerous. 
 But to make this state anything but a burden, and not 
 hang a weight upon our very beings, it is very proper each 
 of the couple should frequently remember, that there are 
 many things which grow out of their very natures that are 
 pardonable, nay becoming, when considered as such, but 
 without that reflection must give the quickest pain and 
 vexation. To manage well a great family is as worthy an 
 instance of capacity, as to execute a great employment ; 
 and for the generality, as women perform the considerable 
 part of their duties as well as men do theirs, so in their 
 common behaviour, those of ordinary genius are not more 
 trivial than the common rate of men ; and in my opinion, 
 the playing of a fan is every whit as good an entertain- 
 ment as the beating a snufF-box. 
 
 But however I have rambled in this libertine manner of 
 writing by way of essay, I now sat down with an intention 
 to represent to my readers, how pernicious, how sudden, 
 and how fatal surprises of passion are to the mind of 
 man ; and that in the more intimate commerces of life 
 they are most liable to arise, even in our most sedate and 
 indolent hours. Occurrences of this kind have had very 
 terrible effects ; and when one reflects upon them, we 
 cannot but tremble to consider what we are capable of 
 being wrought up to against all the ties of nature, love, 
 honour, reason, and religion, though the man who breaks 
 through them all, had, an hour before he did so, a lively 
 and virtuous sense of their dictates. When unhappy 
 catastrophes make up part of the history of princes, and 
 persons who act in high spheres, or are represented in the 
 moving language and well-wrought scenes of tragedians, 
 they do not fail of striking us with terror ; but then they 
 affect us only in a transient manner, and pass through our 
 imaginations, as incidents in which our fortunes are too 
 
 VOL. III. 305 ^ 
 
T'he Tatler No. 172. May 16,1710 
 
 humble to be concerned, or which writers form for the 
 ostentation of their own force ; or, at most, as things fit 
 rather to exercise the powers of our minds, than to create 
 new habits in them. Instead of such high passages, I was 
 thinking it would be of great use (if anybody could hit it) 
 to lay before the world such adventures as befall persons 
 not exalted above the common level. This, methought, 
 would better prevail upon the ordinary race of men, who 
 are so prepossessed with outward appearances, that they 
 mistake fortune for nature, and believe nothing can relate 
 to them that does not happen to such as live and look like 
 themselves. 
 
 The unhappy end of a gentleman whose story an 
 acquaintance of mine was just now telling me, would be 
 very proper for this end if it could be related with all the 
 circumstances as I heard it this evening ; for it touched 
 me so much, that I cannot forbear entering upon it. 
 
 Mr. Eustace,' a young gentleman of a good estate near 
 Dublin in Ireland, married a lady of youth, beauty, and 
 modesty, and lived with her in general with much ease and 
 tranquillity ; but was in his secret temper impatient of 
 rebuke : she is apt to fall into little sallies of passion, yet 
 as suddenly recalled by her own reflection on her fault, 
 and the consideration of her husband's temper. It hap- 
 pened, as he, his wife, and her sister, were at supper 
 together about two months ago, that in the midst of a 
 careless and familiar conversation, the sisters fell into a 
 little warmth and contradiction. He, who was one of that 
 
 ' " Last Sunday Mr. Francis Eustace committed a most barbarous 
 murder on the body of his wife, by giving her seven or eight stabs 
 with his sword, of which she died instantly. He jumped out of the 
 window, and falling on a palisado pale, tore his legs and thighs in such 
 a manner that he was forced to have them dressed by the surgeon, who 
 is since sent to Newgate for letting him escape, and a proclamation is 
 issued out for apprehending him " {British Mercury^ lyio)- 
 
 306 
 
No. 172. May i6, lyio 'The Tathr 
 
 sort of men who are never unconcerned at what passes 
 before them, fell into an outrageous passion on the side of 
 the sister. The person about whom they disputed was so 
 near, that they were under no restraint from running into 
 vain repetitions of past heats : on which occasion all the 
 aggravations of anger and distaste boiled up, and were 
 repeated with the bitterness of exasperated lovers. The 
 wife observing her husband extremely moved, began to 
 turn it off, and rally him for interposing between two 
 people who from their infancy had been angry and pleased 
 with each other every half-hour. But it descended deeper 
 into his thoughts, and they broke up with a sullen silence. 
 The wife immediately retired to her chamber, whither her 
 husband soon after followed. When they were in bed, he 
 soon dissembled a sleep, and she, pleased that his thoughts 
 were composed, fell into a real one. Their apartment 
 was very distant from the rest of their family, in a lonely 
 country house. He now saw his opportunity, and with a 
 dagger he had brought to bed with him, stabbed his wife 
 in the side. She awaked in the highest terror ; but 
 immediately imagined it was a blow designed for her 
 husband by ruffians, began to grasp him, and strive to 
 awake and rouse him to defend himself. He still pre- 
 tended himself sleeping, and gave her a second wound. 
 
 She now drew open the curtains, and by the help of 
 moonlight saw his hand lifted up to stab her. The horror 
 disarmed her from further struggling ; and he, enraged 
 anew at being discovered, fixed his poniard in her bosom. 
 As soon as he believed he had despatched her, he attempted 
 to escape out of the window : but she, still alive, called to 
 him not to hurt himself ; for she might live. He was so 
 stung with the insupportable reflection upon her goodness 
 and his own villainy, that he jumped to the bed, and 
 wounded her all over with as much rage as if every blow 
 
 307 
 
T'he Tatler No. 173. May 18,1710 
 
 was provoked by new aggravations. In this fury of mind 
 he fled away. His wife had still strength to go to her 
 sister's apartment, and give her an account of this wonder- 
 ful tragedy ; but died the next day. Some weeks after, 
 an officer of justice, in attempting to seize the criminal, 
 fired upon him, as did the criminal upon the officer. 
 Both their balls took place, and both immediately 
 expired. 
 
 No. 173. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, May i6, to Thursday, May i8, 1710. 
 
 Sapientia prima est 
 
 Stultida caruisse. — Hor., i Ep. i. 41 
 
 Sheer Lane, May 17. 
 
 When I first began to learn to push' this last winter, my 
 master had a great deal of work upon his hands to 
 make me unlearn the postures and motions which I had 
 got by having in my younger years practised backsword, 
 with a little eye to the single falchion. "Knock-down "* 
 was the word in the Civil Wars, and we generally added to 
 this skill the knowledge of the Cornish hug, as well as the 
 grapple, to play with hand and foot. By this means I was 
 for defending my head when the French gentleman was 
 making a full pass at my bosom, insomuch that he told me 
 I was fairly killed seven times in one morning, without 
 having done my master any other mischief than one knock 
 on the pate. This was a great misfortune to me ; and I 
 believe I may say, without vanity, I am the first who ever 
 pushed so erroneously, and yet conquered the prejudice of 
 education so well, as to make my passes so clear, and 
 
 ' Fence. ^ Hence the phrase, " a knock-down argument." 
 
 308 
 
No. 173- May 1 8,17 lo T'he I'atlcr 
 
 recover hand and foot with that agility, as I do at this day. 
 The truth of it is, the first rudiments of education are 
 given very indiscreetly by most parents, as much with 
 relation to the more important concerns of the mind, as in 
 the gestures of the body. Whatever children are designed 
 for, and whatever prospects the fortune or interest of their 
 parents may give them in their future lives, they are all 
 promiscuously instructed the same way ; and Horace and 
 Virgil must be thrummed by a boy as well before he goes 
 to an apprenticeship as to the University. This ridiculous 
 way of treating the under-aged of this island has very often 
 raised both my spleen and mirth, but I think never both at 
 once so much as to-day. A good mother of our neigh- 
 bourhood made me a visit with her son and heir, a lad 
 somewhat above five foot, and wants but little of the height 
 and strength of a good musketeer in any regiment in the 
 service. Her business was to desire I would examine him, 
 for he was far gone in a book, the first letters of which she 
 often saw in my papers. The youth produced it, and I 
 found it was my friend Horace. It was very easy to turn 
 to the place the boy was learning in, which was the fifth 
 Ode of the first Book, to Pyrrha. I read it over aloud, 
 as well because I am always delighted when I turn to 
 the beautiful parts of that author, as also to gain time for 
 considering a little how to keep up the mother's pleasure 
 in her child, which I thought barbarity to interrupt. In 
 the first place I asked him, who this same Pyrrha was ? 
 He answered very readily, she was the wife of Pyrrhus, 
 one of Alexander's captains. I lifted up my hands. The 
 mother curtsies. " Nay," says she, " I knew you 
 would stand in admiration." " I assure you," con- 
 tinued she, "for all he looks so tall, he is but very 
 young. Pray ask him some more, never spare him." 
 With that I took the liberty to ask him, what was the 
 
 309 
 
'The Tatler No. 173. May 18,1710 
 
 character of this gentlewoman ? He read the three first 
 verses : 
 
 Qiiis multa gracilis te puer in rosa 
 Perfttsus liquidis urget odorihus. 
 Grata, Pyrrha, sub antra ? ' 
 
 and very gravely told me, she lived at the sign of the 
 Rose in a cellar. I took care to be very much astonished 
 at the lad's improvements ; but withal advised her, as soon 
 as possible, to take him from school, for he could learn no 
 more there. This very silly dialogue was a lively image 
 of the impertinent method used in breeding boys without 
 genius or spirit, to the reading things for which their heads 
 were never framed. But this is the natural effect of a 
 certain vanity in the minds of parents, who are wonder- 
 fully delighted with the thought of breeding their children 
 to accomplishments, which they believe nothing but want 
 of the same care in their own fathers prevented them from 
 being masters of. Thus it is, that the part of life most 
 fit for improvement is generally employed in a method 
 against the bent of Nature ; and a lad of such parts as are 
 fit for an occupation, where there can be no calls out of 
 the beaten path, is two or three years of his time wholly 
 taken up in knowing how well Ovid's mistress became 
 such a dress ; how such a nymph for her cruelty was 
 changed into such an animal ; and how it is made generous 
 in ^neas to put Turnus to death, gallantries that can no 
 more come within the occurrences of the lives of ordinary 
 men, than they can be relished by their imaginations. 
 However, still the humour goes on from one generation 
 to another ; and the pastrycook here in the lane the 
 other night told me, he would not yet take away his son 
 from his learning, but has resolved, as soon as he had a 
 little smattering in the Greek, to put him apprentice to a 
 
 ' Horace, i Od. v. i. 
 310 
 
No. 173- May 1 8,17 lo T'ke TatUr 
 
 soap-boiler. These wrong beginnings determine our suc- 
 cess in the world ; and when our thoughts are originally 
 falsely biased, their agility and force do but carry us the 
 further out of our way in proportion to our speed. But 
 we are half-way our journey when we have got into the 
 right road. If all our days were usefully employed, and 
 we did not set out impertinently, we should not have 
 so many grotesque professors in all the arts of life, but 
 every man would be in a proper and becoming method of 
 distinguishing or entertaining himself suitably to what 
 Nature designed him. As they go on now, our parents 
 do not only force us upon what is against our talents, but 
 our teachers are also as injudicious in what they put us to 
 learn. I have hardly ever since suiFered so much by the 
 charms of any beauty, as I did before I had a sense of 
 passion, for not apprehending that the smile of Lalage was 
 what pleased Horace ;^ and I verily believe, the stripes I 
 suffered about digito male pertinaci' has given that irrecon- 
 cilable aversion, which I shall carry to my grave, against 
 coquettes. 
 
 As for the elegant writer of whom I am talking, his 
 excellences are to be observed as they relate to the 
 different concerns of his life ; and he is always to be 
 looked upon as a lover, a courtier, or a man of wit. His 
 admirable odes have numberless instances of his merit in 
 each of these characters. His epistles and satires are full 
 of proper notices for the conduct of life in a Court ; and 
 what we call good breeding, most agreeably intermixed 
 with his morality. His addresses to the persons who 
 favour him are so inimitably engaging, that Augustus 
 
 1 See I Od. xxii. 23 : 
 
 " Duke ridentem Lalagen amabo, 
 Duke kquentem." 
 " Horace, i Od. ix. 24. 
 
 311 
 
'T'he 'Tatler No. 174. May 20, 1 710 
 
 complained of him for so seldom writing to him, and 
 asked him, whether he was afraid posterity should read 
 their names together ? Now for the generality of men to 
 spend much time in such writings, is as pleasant a folly as 
 any he ridicules. Whatever the crowd of scholars may 
 pretend, if their way of life, or their own imaginations, do 
 not lead them to a taste of him, they may read, nay write, 
 fifty volumes upon him, and be just as they were when 
 they began. I remember to have heard a great painter 
 say, there are certain faces for certain painters, as well as 
 certain subjects for certain poets. This is as true in the 
 choice of studies, and no one will ever relish an author 
 thoroughly well, who would not have been fit company for 
 that author had they lived at the same time. All others 
 are mechanics in learning, and take the sentiments of 
 writers like waiting-servants, who report what passed at 
 their master's table ; but debase every thought and expres- 
 sion, for want of the air with which they were uttered. 
 
 No. 174. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Thursday, May i8, to Saturday, May 20, 1710. 
 
 Quern mala stultitia, et quaecunque inscitia veri. 
 Caecum agit, insanum Chrysippi porticus et grex 
 Autumat, — Hor., z Sat. iii. 43. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May^^. 
 
 The learned Scotus, to distinguish the race of mankind, 
 gives every individual of that species what he calls 
 a " seity," something peculiar to himself, which makes him 
 different from all other persons in the world. This par- 
 ticularity renders him either venerable or ridiculous, 
 according as he uses his talents, which always grow out 
 
 312 
 
No. 174. May2o, lyio The TatlcT 
 
 into faults, or improve into virtues. In the office I have 
 undertaken, you are to observe, that I have hitherto pre- 
 sented only the more insignificant and lazy part of man- 
 kind under the denomination of " dead men," together with 
 the degrees towards non-existence, in which others can 
 neither be said to live nor be defunct, but are only animals 
 merely dressed up like men, and differ from each other 
 but as flies do by a little colouring or fluttering of their 
 wings. Now as our discourses heretofore have chiefly 
 regarded the indolent part of the species, it remains that 
 we do justice also upon the impertinently active and enter- 
 prising. Such as these I shall take particular care to place 
 in safe custody, and have used all possible diligence to run 
 up my edifice in Moorfields for that service.' 
 
 We who are adept in astrology, can impute it to several 
 causes in the planets, that this quarter of our great city is 
 the region of such persons as either never had, or have lost, 
 the use of reason. It has indeed been time out of mind 
 the receptacle of fools as well as madmen. The care 
 and information of the former I assign to other learned 
 men, who have for that end taken up their habitation in 
 those parts ; as, among others, to the famous Dr. Trotter, 
 and my ingenious friend Dr. Langham." These oraculous 
 proficients are day and night employed in deep searches, 
 for the direction of such as run astray after their lost 
 goods: but at present they are more particularly ser- 
 viceable to their country, in foretelling the fate of such as 
 have chances in the public lottery. Dr. Langham shows 
 a peculiar generosity on this occasion, taking only one half- 
 crown for a prediction, eighteenpence of which to be paid 
 out of the prizes ; which method the doctor is willing 
 to comply with in favour of every adventurer in the whole 
 
 ' See Nos. 125, 127, 175. 
 
 " Two of the numerous astrologers who lived in Moorfields. 
 
 313 
 
T^he 'T'atler No. 174. May 20, 1 710 
 
 lottery. Leaving therefore the whole generation of such 
 inquirers to such literati as I have now mentioned, we are 
 to proceed towards peopling our house, which we have 
 erected with the greatest cost and care imaginable. 
 
 It is necessary in this place to premise, that the 
 superiority and force of mind which is born with men of 
 great genius, and which, when it falls in with a noble 
 imagination, is called " poetical fury," does not come under 
 my consideration ; but the pretence to such an impulse 
 without natural warmth, shall be allowed a fit object of 
 this charity ; and all the volumes written by such hands 
 shall be from time to time placed in proper order upon 
 the rails of the unhoused booksellers within the district of 
 the college' (who have long inhabited this quarter), in the 
 same manner as they are already disposed soon after their 
 publication. I promise myself from these writings my 
 best opiates for those patients whose high imaginations, 
 and hot spirits, have waked them into distraction. Their 
 boiling tempers are not to be wrought upon by my gruels 
 and juleps, but must ever be employed, or appear to be 
 so, or their recovery will be impracticable. I shall there- 
 fore make use of such poets as preserve so constant a 
 mediocrity as never to elevate the mind into joy, or 
 depress it into sadness, yet at the same time keep the 
 faculties of the readers in suspense, though they introduce 
 no ideas of their own. By this means, a disordered mind, 
 like a broken limb, will recover its strength by the sole 
 benefit of being out of use, and lying without motion. 
 But as reading is not an entertainment that can take up 
 the full time of my patients, I have now in pension a pro- 
 portionable number of storytellers, who are by turns to 
 walk about the galleries of the house, and by their narra- 
 
 ' During the first half of the eighteenth century the walls of Bedlam 
 were made use of by dealers in second-hand books. 
 
 31 + 
 
No. 174- May20, lyio I'he TatUr 
 
 tions second the labours of my pretty good poets. 
 There are among these storytellers some that have so 
 earnest countenances, and weighty brows, that they will 
 draw a madman, even when his fit is just coming on, into 
 a whisper, and by the force of shrugs, nods, and busy 
 gestures, make him stand amazed so long as that we may 
 have time to give him his broth without danger. 
 
 But as Fortune has the possession of men's minds, a 
 physician may cure all the sick people of ordinary degree 
 in the whole town, and never come into reputation. I 
 shall therefore begin with persons of condition ; and the 
 first I shall undertake, shall be the Lady Fidget, the 
 general visitant, and Will Voluble, the fine talker. 
 These persons shall be first locked up, for the peace of 
 all whom the one visits, and all whom the other talks to. 
 
 The passion which first touched the brain of both these 
 persons was envy ; and has had such wondrous effects, 
 that to this, Lady Fidget owes that she is so courteous ; 
 to this, Will Voluble that he is eloquent. Fidget has 
 a restless torment in hearing of any one's prosperity, and 
 cannot know any quiet till she visits her, and is eyewitness 
 of something that lessens it. Thus her life is a continual 
 search after what does not concern her, and her com- 
 panions speak kindly even of the absent and the un- 
 fortunate, to tease her. She was the first that visited 
 Flavia after the small-pox, and has never seen her since 
 because she is not altered. Call a young woman hand- 
 some in her company, and she tells you, it is a pity she 
 has no fortune : say she is rich, and she is as sorry that 
 she is silly. With all this ill nature, Fidget is herself 
 young, rich, and handsome ; but loses the pleasure of all 
 those qualities, because she has them in common with 
 others. 
 
 To make up her misery, she is well-bred, she hears 
 
 31S 
 
I'he T'atler No. 174. May 20, 1 710 
 
 commendations till she is ready to faint for want of 
 venting herself in contradictions. This madness is not 
 expressed by the voice ; but is uttered in the eyes and 
 features : its first symptom is upon beholding an agree- 
 able object, a sudden approbation immediately checked 
 with dislike. 
 
 This lady I shall take the liberty to conduct into a 
 bed of straw and darkness, and have some hopes, that 
 after long absence from the light, the pleasure of seeing 
 at all may reconcile her to what she shall see, though it 
 proves to be never so agreeable. 
 
 My physical remarks on the distraction of envy in other 
 persons, and particularly in Will Voluble, is interrupted by 
 a visit from Mr. Kidney,' with advices which will bring 
 matter of new disturbance to many possessed with this sort 
 of disorder, which I shall publish to bring out the symp- 
 toms more kindly, and lay the distemper more open to my 
 view. 
 
 St. James s Coffee-house, May 19. 
 
 This evening a mail from Holland brought the follow- 
 ing advices : 
 
 From the Camp before Douay," May 26, N.S. On the 
 23rd the French assembled their army, and encamped 
 with their right near Bouchain, and their left near 
 Crevecoeur. Upon this motion of the enemy, the Duke 
 of Marlborough and Prince Eugene made a movement 
 with their army on the 24th, and encamped from Arlieux 
 
 ^ The waiter ; see No. i. 
 
 ^ Douay capitulated on the 25th of June, after a fifty-four days 
 siege, which cost the Allies eight thousand men. Two English regi- 
 ments were cut to pieces at a sortie made by the besieged French 
 troops. Two years later Douay was recaptured by Villars. 
 
 316 
 
No. 174- May2o, lyio T'ke T'atler 
 
 to Vitry and Isez-Esquerchien, where they are so advanta- 
 geously posted, that they not only cover the siege, secure 
 our convoys of provisions, forage, and ammunition, from 
 Lille and Tournay, and the canals and dykes we have made 
 to turn the water of the Scarp and La Cense to Bouchain ; 
 but are in a readiness, by marching from the right, to 
 possess themselves of the field of battle marked out betwixt 
 Vitry and Montigny, or from the left to gain the lines of 
 circumvallation betwixt Fierin and Dechy : so that what- 
 ever way the enemy shall approach to attack us, whether 
 by the plains of Lens, or by Bouchain and Valenciennes, 
 we have but a very small movement to make, to possess 
 ourselves of the ground on which it will be most advanta- 
 geous to receive them. The enemy marched this morning 
 from their left, and are encamped with their right at Oisy, 
 and their left towards Arras, and, according to our advices, 
 will pass the Scarp to-morrow, and enter on the plains of 
 Lens, though several regiments of horse, the German and 
 Liege troops, which are destined to compose part of their 
 army, have not yet joined them. If they pass the Scarp, 
 we shall do the like at the same time, to possess ourselves 
 with all possible advantage of the field of battle : but if 
 they continue where they are, we shall not remove, because 
 in our present station we sufficiently cover from all insults 
 both our siege and convoys. 
 
 Monsieur Villars cannot yet go without crutches, and 
 it is believed will have much difficulty to ride. He and 
 the Duke of Berwick are to command the French army, 
 the rest of the marshals being only to assist in council. 
 
 Last night we entirely perfected four bridges over the 
 avant fosse at both attacks ; and our saps are so far 
 advanced, that in three or four days batteries will be raised 
 on the glacis, to batter in breach both the outworks and 
 ramparts of the town. 
 
 317 
 
The Tatler No. 175. May23, 1710 
 
 Letters from the Hague of the 27th, N.S., say, that the 
 Deputies of the States of Holland, who set out for Gertruy- 
 denburg on the 23rd, to renew the conferences with the 
 French Ministers, returned on the 26th, and had commu- 
 nicated to the States-General the new overtures that were 
 made on the part of France, which it is believed, if they 
 are in earnest, may produce a general treaty. 
 
 No. 175. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, May 20, to 'Tuesday, May 23, 17 10. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 22. 
 
 In the distribution of the apartments in the new Bedlam, 
 proper regard is had to the different sexes, and the 
 lodgings accommodated accordingly. Among other neces- 
 saries, as I have thought fit to appoint storytellers to 
 soothe the men, so I have allowed tale-bearers to indulge 
 the intervals of my female patients. But before I enter 
 upon disposing of the main of the great body that wants 
 my assistance, it is necessary to consider the human race 
 abstracted from all other distinctions and considerations 
 except that of sex. This will lead us to a nearer view 
 of their excellences and imperfections, which are to be 
 accounted the one or the other, as they are suitable to the 
 design for which the persons so defective or accomplished 
 came into the world. 
 
 To make this inquiry aright, we must speak of the life 
 of people of condition, and the proportionable applica- 
 tions to those below them will be easily made, so as to 
 value the whole species by the same rule. We will begin 
 with the woman, and behold her as a virgin in her father's 
 house. This state of her life is infinitely more delightful 
 
 318 
 
No. 175- May23, lyio T'he 'Tatler 
 
 than that of her brother at the same age. While she is 
 entertained with learning melodious airs at her spinet, is 
 led round a room in the most complaisant manner to a 
 fiddle, who is entertained with applauses of her beauty and 
 perfection in the ordinary conversation she meets with : 
 the young man is under the dictates of a rigid school- 
 master or instructor, contradicted in every word he speaks, 
 and curbed in all the inclinations he discovers. Mrs. 
 Elizabeth is the object of desire and admiration, looked 
 upon with delight, courted with all the powers of 
 eloquence and address, approached with a certain worship, 
 and defended with a certain loyalty. This is her case as 
 to the world : in her domestic character, she is the com- 
 panion, the friend, and confidante of her mother, and the 
 object of a pleasure something like the love between angels, 
 to her father. Her youth, her beauty, her air, are by him 
 looked upon with an ineflPable transport beyond any other 
 joy in this life, with as much purity as can be met with in 
 the next. 
 
 Her brother WiUiam, at the same years, is but in the 
 rudiments of those acquisitions which must gain him 
 esteem in the world. His heart beats for applause among 
 men, yet is he fearful of every step towards it. If he 
 proposes to himself to make a figure in the world, his 
 youth is damped with a prospect of difficulties, dangers, 
 and dishonours ; and an opposition in all generous attempts, 
 whether they regard his love or his ambition. 
 
 In the next stage of life she has little else to do, but 
 (what she is accomplished for by the mere gifts of nature) 
 to appear lovely and agreeable to her husband, tender to 
 her children, and affable to her servants : but a man, when 
 he enters into this way, is but in the first scene, far from 
 the accomplishment of his designs. He is now in all 
 things to act for others as well as himself. He is to have 
 
 319 
 
'The Tatler No. 175. May23, 1710 
 
 industry and frugality in his private aiFairs, and integrity 
 and addresses in public. To these qualities, he must add 
 a courage and resolution to support his other abilities, lest 
 he be interrupted in the prosecution of his just endeavours, 
 in which the honour and interest of posterity are as much 
 concerned as his own personal welfare. 
 
 This little sketch may in some measure give an idea of 
 the different parts which the sexes have to act, and the 
 advantageous as well as inconvenient terms on which they 
 are to enter upon their several parts of life. This may 
 also be some rule to us in the examination of their 
 conduct. In short, I shall take it for a maxim, that a 
 woman who resigns the purpose of being pleasing, and 
 the man who gives up the thoughts of being wise, do 
 equally quit their claim to the true causes of living ; and 
 are to be allowed the diet and discipline of my charitable 
 structure to reduce them to reason. 
 
 On the other side, the woman who hopes to please by 
 methods which should make her odious, and the man who 
 would be thought wise by a behaviour that renders him 
 ridiculous, are to be taken into custody for their false 
 industry, as justly as they ought for their negligence. 
 
 N.B. Mr. Bickerstaff is taken extremely ill with the 
 toothache, and cannot proceed in this discourse. 
 
 St. James's Coffee-house, May 22. 
 
 Advices from Flanders of the 30th instant, N.S., say, 
 that the Duke of Marlborough having intelligence 
 of the enemy's passing the Scarp on the 29th in the 
 evening, and their march towards the plains of Lens, had 
 put the Confederate army in motion, which was advancing 
 towards the camp on the north side of that river between 
 Vitry and Henin-Lietard. The Confederates, since the 
 
 320 
 
No. 176. May25, I7IO T'ke I'atUr 
 
 approach of the enemy, have added several new redoubts 
 to their camp, and drawn the cannon out of the lines of 
 circumvallation in a readiness for the batteries. 
 
 It is not believed, notwithstanding these appearances, 
 that the enemy will hazard a battle for the relief of 
 Douay ; the siege of which place is carried on with all the 
 success that can be expected, considering the difficulties 
 they meet with occasioned by the inundations. On the 
 28 th at night we made a lodgment on the salient angle of 
 the glacis of the second counterscarp, and our approaches 
 are so far advanced, that it is believed the town will be 
 obliged to surrender before the 8 th of the next month. 
 
 No. 176. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, May 23, to Thursday, May 25, 17 10. 
 
 Nul lum numen abest, si sit Prudentia. 
 
 Juv., Sat. X. 365. 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 23. 
 
 This evening, after a little ease from the raging pain 
 caused by so small an organ as an aching tooth, 
 under which I had behaved myself so ill as to have broke 
 two pipes and my spectacles, I began to reflect with 
 admiration on those heroic spirits, which in the conduct 
 of their lives seem to live so much above the condition 
 of our make, as not only under the agonies of pain to 
 forbear any intemperate word or gesture, but also in their 
 general and ordinary behaviour to resist the impulses of 
 their very blood and constitution. This watch over a 
 man's self, and the command of his temper, I take to be 
 the greatest of human perfections, and is the effect of a 
 strong and resolute mind. It is not only the most 
 
 VOL. HI. 3*' ^ 
 
'The Tatler No. 176. May 25, 17 lo 
 
 expedient practice for carrying on our own designs, but is 
 also very deservedly the most amiable quality in the sight 
 of others. It is a winning deference to mankind, which 
 creates an immediate imitation of itself whenever it 
 appears, and prevails upon all (who have to do with a 
 person endued with it) either through shame or emulation. 
 I do not know how to express this habit of mind, except 
 you will let me call it equanimity. It is a virtue, which is 
 necessary at every hour, in every place, and in all con- 
 versations, and is the effect of a regular and exact 
 prudence. He that wiU look back upon all the acquaint- 
 ances he has had in his whole life, will find he has 
 seen more men capable of the greatest employments and 
 performances, than such as could in the general bent 
 of their carriage act otherwise than according to their 
 own complexion and humour. But the indulgence of 
 ourselves in wholly giving way to our natural propensity, 
 is so unjust and improper a licence, that when people 
 take it up, there is very little difference, with relation to 
 their friends and families, whether they are good- or ill- 
 natured men : for he that errs by being wrought upon by 
 what we call the sweetness of his temper, is as guilty as he 
 that offends through the perverseness of it. 
 
 It is not therefore to be regarded what men are in 
 themselves, but what they are in their actions. Eucrates' 
 is the best-natured of all men ; but that natural softness 
 has effects quite contrary to itself, and for want of due 
 bounds to his benevolence, while he has a will to be a 
 friend to all, he has the power of being such to none. 
 His constant inclination to please makes him never fail of 
 doing so ; though (without being capable of falsehood) he 
 is a friend only to those who are present ; for the same 
 humour which makes him the best companion, renders 
 
 ' Eucrates reminds us in some respects of Steele himself. 
 3ZZ 
 
No. 176. May 25, 1 7 lo 'The Tatler 
 
 him the worst correspondent. It is a melancholy thing to 
 consider, that the most engaging sort of men in conversa- 
 tion are frequently the most tyrannical in power, and 
 least to be depended upon in friendship. It is certain this 
 is not to be imputed to their own disposition ; but he 
 that is to be led by others, has only good luck if he is not 
 the worst, though in himself the best man living. For 
 this reason, we are no more wholly to indulge our good 
 than our ill dispositions I remember a crafty old cit, one 
 day speaking of a well-natured young fellow who set up 
 with a good stock in Lombard Street, " I will," says he, 
 " lay no more money in his hands, for he never denied me 
 anything," This was a very base, but with him a pru- 
 dential reason for breaking off commerce : and this 
 acquaintance of mine carried this way of judging so far, 
 that he has often told me, he never cared to deal with a 
 man he liked, for that our affections must never enter into 
 our business. 
 
 When we look round us in this populous city, and 
 consider how credit and esteem are lodged, you find men 
 have a great share of the former, without the least portion 
 of the latter. He who knows himself for a beast of prey, 
 looks upon others in the same light, and we are so apt to 
 judge of others by ourselves, that the man who has no 
 mercy, is as careful as possible never to want it. Hence 
 it is, that in many instances men gain credit by the very 
 contrary methods by which they do esteem ; for wary 
 traders think every affection of the mind a key to their 
 cash. 
 
 But what led me into this discourse was my impatience 
 of pain ; and I have, to my great disgrace, seen an 
 instance of the contrary carriage in so high a degree, that 
 I am out of countenance that I ever read Seneca. 
 When I look upon the conduct of others in such occur- 
 
 323 
 
The Trailer No. 176. May25, 1710 
 
 rences, as well as behold their equanimity in the general 
 tenor of their life, it very much abates the self-love, which 
 is seldom well-governed by any sort of men, and least of 
 all by us authors. 
 
 The fortitude of a man who brings his will to the 
 obedience of his reason is conspicuous, and carries 
 with it a dignity in the lowest state imaginable. Poor 
 Martius,' who now lies languishing in the most violent 
 fever, discovers in the faintest moments of his distemper 
 such a greatness of mind, that a perfect stranger who 
 should now behold him, would indeed see an object 
 of pity, but at the same time that it was lately an object of 
 veneration. His gallant spirit resigns, but resigns with an 
 air that speaks a resolution which could yield to nothing 
 but fate itself. This is conquest in the philosophic sense ; 
 but the empire over ourselves is, methinks, no less laud- 
 able in common life, where the whole tenor of a man's 
 carriage is in subservience to his own reason, and conformity 
 both to the good sense and inclination of other men. 
 
 Aristaeus' is, in my opinion, a perfect master of himself 
 in all circumstances. He has all the spirit that man can 
 have, and yet is as regular in his behaviour as a mere 
 machine. He is sensible of every passion, but ruffled by 
 none. In conversation, he frequently seems to be less 
 knowing to be more obliging, and chooses to be oh a 
 level with others rather than oppress with the superiority 
 of his genius. In friendship he is kind without profession ; 
 in business, expeditious without ostentation. With the 
 greatest softness and benevolence imaginable, he is im- 
 partial in spite of all importunity, even that of his own 
 good nature. He is ever clear in his judgment ; but in 
 
 ' Perhaps Cornelius Wood. See No. 144. 
 
 ^ In writing of Aristaeus, Steele seems to have had Addison in his 
 mind. His friend had recently left London for Ireland. 
 
 324 
 
No. 176. May 25, 17 lo 'The TutUr 
 
 complaisance to his company, speaks with doubt, and never 
 shows confidence in argument, but to support the sense of 
 another. Were such an equality of mind the general 
 endeavour of all men, how sweet would be the pleasures of 
 conversation } He that is loud would then understand, 
 that we ought to call a constable, and know, that spoiling 
 good company is the most heinous way of breaking the 
 peace. We should then be relieved from these zealots in 
 society, who take upon them to be angry for all the com- 
 pany, and quarrel with the waiters to show they have no 
 respect for anybody else in the room. To be in a rage 
 before you, is in a kind being angry with you. You may 
 as well stand naked before company, as to use such 
 familiarities ; and to be careless of what you say, is the 
 most clownish way of being undressed. 
 
 Sheer Lane, May 24. 
 
 When I came home this evening, I found the follow- 
 ing letters ; and because I think one a very good 
 answer to the other, as well as that it is the affair of a 
 young lady, it must be immediately dismissed : 
 
 "Sir, 
 " T have a good fortune, partly paternal and partly 
 
 -■■ acquired. My younger years I spent in business ; 
 but age coming on, and having no more children than one 
 daughter, I resolved to be a slave no longer : and accord- 
 ingly I have disposed of my effects, placed my money in 
 the funds, bought a pretty seat in a pleasant country ; am 
 making a garden, and have set up a pack of little beagles. 
 I live in the midst of a good many well-bred neighbours, 
 and several well-tempered clergymen. Against a rainy day 
 I have a little library ; and against the gout in my stomach 
 a little good claret. With all this I am the miserablest man 
 
 325 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 176. May 25, 1 710 
 
 in the world ; not that I've lost the relish of any of these 
 pleasures, but am distracted with such a multiplicity of 
 entertaining objects, that I am lost in the variety. I am 
 in such a hurry of idleness, that I do not know with what 
 diversion to begin. Therefore, sir, I must beg the favour 
 of you, when your more weighty affairs will permit, to put 
 me in some method of doing nothing ; for I find Pliny 
 makes a great difference betwixt Nihil agere and Agere 
 nihil ; and I fancy, if you would explain him, you would 
 do a very great kindness to many in Great Britain, as well 
 as to 
 
 " Your humble Servant, 
 
 " J. B." 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " '~r^he enclosed is written by my father in one of 
 ■^ his pleasant humours. He bids me seal it up, 
 and send you a word or two from myself, which he 
 won't desire to see till he hears of it from you. Desire 
 him before he begins his method of doing nothing, to 
 have nothing to do ; that is to say, let him marry off his 
 daughter. I am, 
 
 " Your gentle Reader, 
 
 "S. B." 
 
 326 
 
No, 177- May27, lyio 'The T a tier 
 
 No. 177. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, May 25, to Saturday, May 27, 1710. 
 
 Male si palp'ere, recalcitrat undique tutus. 
 
 HoR., 2 Sat. i. 20. 
 
 Sheer Lane, May 26. 
 
 ' I ""he ingenious Mr. Penkethman,' the comedian, has 
 -*• lately left here a paper or ticket, to which is affixed 
 a small silver medal, which is to entitle the bearer to see 
 one-and-twenty plays at his theatre for a guinea. Greenwich 
 is the place where, it seems, he has erected his house ; and his 
 time of action is to be so contrived, that it is to fall in with 
 going and returning with the tide : besides, that the bearer 
 of this ticket may carry down with him a particular set of com- 
 pany to the play, striking off for each person so introduced 
 one of his twenty-one times of admittance. In this warrant 
 of his, he has made me a high compliment in a facetious 
 distich, by way of dedication of his endeavours, and desires 
 I would recommend them to the world. I must needs 
 say, I have not for some time seen a properer choice than 
 he has made of a patron : who more fit to publish his work 
 than a novelist ' ? who to recommend it than a censor i 
 This honour done me, has made me turn my thoughts upon 
 the nature of dedications in general, and the abuse of that 
 custom, as well by a long practice of my predecessors, as 
 the continued folly of my contemporary authors. 
 
 In ancient times, it was the custom to address their 
 works to some eminent for their merit to mankind, or 
 particular patronage of the writers themselves, or know- 
 ledge in the matter of which they treated. Under these 
 * See No; 4* ' Writer of news. 
 
 327 
 
'The Tatler No. 177. Mayay, 1710 
 
 regards, it was a memorable honour to both parties, and a 
 very agreeable record of their commerce with each other. 
 These applications were never stuiFed with impertinent 
 praises, but were the native product of their esteem, which 
 was implicitly received, or generally known to be due to 
 the patron of the work : but vain flourishes came into the 
 world, with other barbarous embellishments ; and the 
 enumeration of titles, and great actions, in the patrons 
 themselves, or their sires, are as foreign to the matter in 
 hand as the ornaments are in a Gothic building. This 
 is clapping together persons which have no manner of 
 alliance, and can for that reason have no other effect than 
 making both parties justly ridiculous. What pretence is 
 there in Nature for me to write to a great man, and tell 
 him, " My lord, because your Grace is a duke, your Grace's 
 father before you was an earl, his lordship's father was a 
 baron, and his lordship's father both a wise and a rich 
 man, I, Isaac Bickerstaff, am obliged, and could not possibly 
 forbear addressing to you the following treatise." Though 
 this is the plain exposition of all I could possibly say to 
 him with a good conscience, yet the silly custom has so 
 universally prevailed, that my lord duke and I must 
 necessarily be particular friends from this time forward, or 
 else I have just room for being disobliged, and may turn 
 my panegyric into a libel. But to carry this affair still 
 more home, were it granted that praises in dedications 
 were proper topics, what is it that gives a man authority 
 to commend, or what makes it a favour to me that he 
 does commend me ? It is certain, that there is no praise 
 valuable but from the praiseworthy. Were it otherwise, 
 blame might be as much in the same hands. Were the 
 good and evil of fame laid upon a level among mankind, 
 the judge on the bench, and the criminal at the bar, would 
 differ only in their stations ; and if one's word is to pass 
 
 3*8 
 
No. 177- May 27, 1 7 lo 'The TatUr 
 
 as much as the other's, their reputation would be much 
 alike to the jury. Pliny,' speaking of the death of 
 Martial, expresses himself with great gratitude to him for 
 the honours done him in the writings of that author ; but 
 he begins it with an account of his character, which only 
 made the applause valuable. He indeed in the same 
 Epistle says, it is a sign we have left oiF doing things which 
 deserve praise, when we think commendation impertinent. 
 This is asserted with a just regard to the persons whose 
 good opinion we wish for ; otherwise reputation would be 
 valued according to the number of voices a man has for it, 
 which are not always to be insured on the more virtuous 
 side. But however we pretend to model these nice affairs, 
 true glory will never attend anything but truth ; and 
 there is something so peculiar in it, that the very self-same 
 action done by different men cannot merit the same degree 
 of applause. The Roman, who was surprised in the 
 enemy's camp before he had accomplished his design, and 
 thrust his bare arm into a flaming pile, telling the general, 
 there were many as determined as himself who (against 
 sense of danger) had conspired his death, wrought in the 
 very enemy an admiration of his fortitude, and a dismission 
 with applause.^ But the condemned slave who represented 
 him in the theatre, and consumed his arm in the same 
 manner, with the same resolution, did not raise in the 
 spectators a great idea of his virtue, but of him whom he 
 imitated in an action no way differing from that of the 
 real Scaevola, but in the motive to it. 
 
 Thus true glory is inseparable from true merit, and 
 whatever you call men, they are no more than what they 
 are in themselves ; but a romantic sense has crept into the 
 minds of the generality, who will ever mistake words and 
 appearances for persons and things. 
 
 ' "Epist."iii. 21. ^ Livy, ii. I2. 
 
'The Tatler No. 177. May27, 1710 
 
 The simplicity of the ancients was as conspicuous in the 
 address of their writings, as in any other monuments they 
 have left behind them. Cassar and Augustus were much 
 more high words of respect, when added to occasions fit for 
 their characters to appear in, than any appellations which 
 have ever been since thought of. The latter of these great 
 men had a very pleasant way of dealing with applications 
 of this kind. When he received pieces of poetry which he 
 thought had worth in them, he rewarded the writer ; but 
 where he thought them empty, he generally returned the 
 compliment made him with some verses of his own. 
 
 This latter method I have at present occasion to imitate. 
 A female author has dedicated a piece to me,' wherein she 
 would make my name (as she has others) the introduction 
 of whatever is to follow in her book ; and has spoke some 
 panegyrical things which I know not how to return, for want 
 of better acquaintance with the lady, and consequently being 
 out of a capacity of giving her praise or blame. All there- 
 fore that is left for me, according to the foregoing rules, is to 
 lay the picture of a good and evil woman before her eyes, 
 which are but mere words if they do not concern her. 
 Now you are to observe, the way in a dedication is to 
 make all the rest of the world as little like the person we 
 address to as possible, according to the following epistle : 
 
 "Madam, 
 " But, M 
 
 Memorabile nullum 
 
 Fceminea in poena est. '"- 
 
 ' Mrs. Manley's " Memoirs of Europe ... by the translator of the 
 • New Atalantis.' " See Nos. 35, 63. 
 
 Nullum memorabile nomen 
 
 Fceminea in poena est." — "^neid," ii. 583-4. 
 330 
 
No. lys. May 30,1710 T'ke T'atler 
 
 No. 178. [Steele.. 
 
 From Saturday, May 27, to "Tuesday, May 30, 17 10. 
 
 Sheer Lane, May 29. 
 
 When we look into the delightful history of the most 
 ingenious Don Quixote of the Mancha, and consider 
 the exercises and manner of life of that renowned gentle- 
 man, we cannot but admire the exquisite genius and discern- 
 ing 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 inti- 
 mated in his ordinary life, economy, and furniture, the 
 infallible symptoms he gave of his growing frenzy, before 
 he declared himself a knight-errant. His hall was furnished 
 with old lances, halberds, and morions ; his food, lentils ; 
 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 
 passion 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 ail reason I do justly complain on your beauty." 
 Again, he would pause till he came to another charming 
 sentence, and with the most pleasing accent imaginable be 
 
 ' "Don Quixote," Part I. chap. i. 
 33' 
 
I' he T'atler No. 178. May30, 1710 
 
 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. 
 
 As much as the case of this distempered knight is 
 received by all the readers of his history as the most 
 incurable and ridiculous of all phrensies, it is very certain 
 we have crowds among us far gone in as visible a madness 
 as his, though they are not observed to be in that con- 
 dition. As great and useful discoveries are sometimes 
 made by accidental and small beginnings, I came to the 
 knowledge of the most epidemic iJl of this sort, by falling 
 into a cofFee-house where I saw my friend the upholsterer,' 
 whose crack' towards politics I have heretofore mentioned. 
 This touch in the brain of the British subject is as certainly 
 owing to the reading newspapers, as that of the Spanish 
 worthy above mentioned to the reading works of chivalry. 
 My contemporaries the novelists' have, for the better 
 spinning out paragraphs, and working down to the end of 
 their columns, a most happy art in saying and unsaying, 
 giving hints of intelligence, and interpretations of in- 
 different actions, to the great disturbance of the brains of 
 ordinary readers. This way of going on in the words, and 
 making no progress in the sense, is more particularly the 
 excellence of my most ingenious and renowned fellow- 
 labourer, the Postman* ; and it is to this talent in him 
 
 ' See Nos. 155, 160. 
 
 ^ In the Spectator, No. 251, Addison applies the word to a crazy 
 person : " A crack and a projector." 
 
 ' Writers of newspapers. 
 
 '' The Postman was edited by a French Protestant named Fontive, 
 whom Dunton describes as " the glory and mirror of news-writers ; a 
 very grave, learned, orthodox man." 
 
 332 
 
No. 178. May 30,1710 T'ke T'atler 
 
 that I impute the loss of my upholsterer's intellects. 
 That unfortunate tradesman has for years past been the 
 chief orator in ragged assemblies, and the reader in alley 
 coffee-houses. He was yesterday surrounded by an 
 audience of that sort, among whom I sat unobserved 
 through the favour of a cloud of tobacco, and saw him 
 with the Postman in his hand, and all the other papers- 
 safe under his left elbow. He was intermixing remarks, 
 and reading the Paris article of May 30, which says that 
 "it is given out that an express arrived this day, with advice, 
 that the armies were so near in the plain of Lens, that 
 they cannonaded each other." (" Ay, ay, here we shall 
 have sport.") "And that it was highly probable the next 
 express would bring us an account of an engagement." 
 (" They are welcome as soon as they please.") " Though 
 some others say, that the same will be put off till the 2nd 
 or 3rd of June, because the Marshal Villars expects some 
 further reinforcements from Germany, and other parts, 
 before that time." (" What-a-pox does he put it off for .'' 
 Does he think our horse is not marching up at the same 
 time } But let us see what he says further.") " They hope 
 that Monsieur Albergotti,' being encouraged by the 
 presence of so great an army, will make an extraordinary 
 defence." (" Why then I find, Albergotti is one of those 
 that love to have a great many on their side. Nay, I'll 
 say that for this paper, he makes the most natural in- 
 ferences of any of them all.") " The Elector of Bavaria 
 being uneasy to be without any command, has desired 
 leave to come to Court to communicate a certain project 
 to his Majesty. Whatever it be, it is said that prince is- 
 suddenly expected, and then we shall have a more certain 
 account of his project, if this report has any foundation.'*^ 
 (" Nay, this paper never imposes upon us, he goes upon. 
 ' Albergotti was then holding Douay for Lewis XIV. 
 333 
 
T'he 'Tatier No. 178. May 30, 1 710 
 
 sure grounds ; for he won't be positive the Elector has a 
 project, or that he will come, or if he does come at all ; 
 for he doubts, you see, whether the report has any 
 foundation.") 
 
 What makes this the more lamentable is, that this way 
 •of writing falls in with the imagination of the cooler 
 and duller part of her Majesty's subjects. The being 
 kept up with one line contradicting another, and the whole, 
 after many sentences of conjecture, vanishing in a doubt 
 whether there is anything at all in what the person has 
 been reading, puts an ordinary head into a vertigo, which 
 his natural dulness would have secured him from. Next 
 to the labours of the Postman, the upholsterer took from 
 under his elbow honest Ichabod Dawks' Letter,'^ and there, 
 among other speculations, the historian takes upon him to 
 «ay that "it is discoursed that there will be a battle in 
 Flanders before the armies separate, and many will have it 
 to be to-morrow, the great battle of Ramillies being fought 
 on a Whit Sunday." A gentleman who was a wag in this 
 •company laughed at the expression, and said, " By Mr. 
 Dawks' favour, I warrant ye, if we meet them on Whit 
 Sunday, or Monday, we shall not stand upon the day ° with 
 them, whether it be before or after the holidays." An 
 admirer of this gentleman stood up, and told a neighbour 
 at a distant table the conceit, at which indeed we were all 
 very merry. These reflections in the writers of the trans- 
 actions of the times, seize the noddles of such as were not 
 born to have thoughts of their own, and consequently lay 
 a weight upon everything which they read in print. But 
 
 ' See No. 18. The news-letter was printed to imitate hand- 
 ■writing. 
 
 2 Cf. " Macbeth," act iii. sc. 4 : 
 
 " Stand not upon the order of your going, 
 But go at once ! " 
 
 334 
 
No. 1 78. May 30,1710 T'he 'Tatler 
 
 Mr. Dawks concluded his paper with a courteous sentence, 
 which was very well taken and applauded by the whole com- 
 pany. " We wish," says he, " all our customers a merry 
 Whitsuntide, and many of them." Honest Ichabod is as 
 extraordinary a man as any of our fraternity, and as 
 particular. His style is a dialect between the familiarity 
 of talking and writing, and his letter such as you cannot 
 distinguish whether print or manuscript, which gives us a 
 refreshment ' of the idea from what has been told us from 
 the press by others. This wishing a good tide had its 
 effect upon us, and he was commended for his salutation, 
 as showing as well the capacity of a bellman as an historian. 
 My distempered old acquaintance read in the next place 
 the account of the affairs abroad in the Courant ; ^ but the 
 matter was told so distinctly, that these wanderers thought 
 there was no news in it ; this paper differing from the rest 
 as a history from a romance. The tautology, the contra- 
 dictions, the doubts, and wants of confirmations, are what 
 keep up imaginary entertainments in empty heads, and 
 produce neglect of their own affairs, poverty, and bank- 
 ruptcy, in many of the shop-statesmen ; but turn the 
 imaginations of those of a little higher orb into deliriums 
 of dissatisfaction, which is seen in a continual fret upon 
 all that touches their brains, but more particularly upon 
 any advantage obtained by their country, where they are 
 considered as lunatics, and therefore tolerated in their 
 ravings. 
 
 What I am now warning the people of is, that the news- 
 papers of this island are as pernicious to weak heads in 
 England as ever books of chivalry to Spain ; and there- 
 fore shall do all that in me lies, with the utmost care and 
 vigilance imaginable, to prevent these growing evils. A 
 flaming instance of this malady appeared in my old 
 1 A rechauffe. ^ See No. 18. 
 
 335 
 
I' he T'atler No. 178. May 30, 17 lo 
 
 acquaintance at this time, who, after he had done reading 
 all his papers, ended with a thoughtful air, " If we should 
 have a peace, we should then know for certain whether it 
 was the King of Sweden that lately came to Dunkirk." I 
 whispered him, and desired him to step aside a little with 
 me. When I had opportunity, I decoyed him into a 
 coach, in order for his more easy conveyance to Moor- 
 fields. The man went very quietly with me ; and by that 
 time he had brought the Swede from the defeat by the 
 Czar to the Boristhenes, we were passing by Will's Coffee- 
 house, where the man of the house beckoned to us. We 
 made a full stop, and could hear from above a very loud 
 voice swearing, with some expressions towards treason, 
 that the subject in France was as free as in England. 
 His distemper would not let him reflect, that his own dis 
 course was an argument of the contrary. They told him, 
 one would speak with him below. He came immediately 
 to our coach-side. I whispered him, that I had an order 
 to carry him to the Bastile. He immediately obeyed 
 with great resignation : for to this sort of lunatic, whose 
 brain is touched for the French, the name of a gaol in 
 that kingdom has a more agreeable sound than that of a 
 paternal seat in this their own country. It happened a 
 little unluckily bringing these lunatics together, for they 
 immediately fell into a debate concerning the greatness of 
 their respective monarchs ; one for the King of Sweden, the 
 other for the Grand Monarch of France. This gentleman 
 from Will's is now next door to the upholsterer, safe 
 in his apartment in my Bedlam, with proper medica- 
 ments, and the Mercure Galant ' to soothe his imagination 
 that he is actually in France. If therefore he should 
 escape to Covent Garden again, all persons are desired to 
 lay hold of him, and deliver him to Mr. Morphew, my 
 
 1 See No. 67. 
 33<5 
 
No. 179. June i, 1710 I'he 'TatUr 
 
 overseer. At the same time, I desire all true subjects to 
 forbear discourse with him, any otherwise than when he 
 begins to fight a battle for France, to say, " Sir, I hope to 
 see you in England." 
 
 No. 179. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Tuesday, May 30, to Thursday, June i, 17 10. 
 O ! quis me gelidis sub montibus Hasmi 
 
 Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra ? 
 
 ViRG., Georg. ii. 4.88.' 
 
 From my own Apartment, May 31. 
 
 In this parched season, next to the pleasure of going into 
 the country, is that of hearing from it, and partaking 
 the joys of it in description, as in the following letter : 
 
 "Sir, 
 " T believe you will forgive me, though I write to you a 
 
 -■- very long epistle, since it relates to the satisfaction 
 of a country life, which I know you would lead, if you 
 could. In the first place I must confess to you, that I 
 am one of the most luxurious men living ; and as I am 
 such, I take care to make my pleasures lasting, by follow- 
 ing none but such as are innocent and refined, as well as, 
 in some measure, improving. You have in your labours 
 been so much concerned to represent the actions and 
 passions of mankind, that the whole vegetable world has 
 almost escaped your observation : but sure there are grati- 
 fications to be drawn from thence, which deserve to be re- 
 commended. For your better information, I wish you 
 could visit your old friend in Cornwall : you would be 
 • The correct reading is, " O, qui me gellidis in vallibus," &c. 
 
 VOL. III. 337 ^ 
 
The Tatler No. 179. June 1,1710 
 
 pleased to see the many alterations I have made about my 
 house, and how much I have improved my estate without 
 raising the rents of it. 
 
 " As the winter engrosses with us near a double portion 
 of the year (the three delightful vicissitudes being crowded 
 almost within the space of six months), there is nothing 
 upon which I have bestowed so much study and expense, 
 as in contriving means to soften the severity of it, and, if 
 possible, to establish twelve cheerful months about my 
 habitation. In order to this, the charges I have been at in 
 building and furnishing a greenhouse will, perhaps, be 
 thought somewhat extravagant by a great many gentlemen 
 whose revenues exceed mine. But when I consider, that 
 all men of any life and spirit have their inclinations to 
 gratify, and when I compute the sums laid out by the 
 generality of the men of pleasure (in the number of which 
 I always rank myself) in riotous eating and drinking, in 
 equipage and apparel, upon wenching, gaming, racing and 
 hunting ; I find, upon the balance, that the indulging of 
 my humour comes at a reasonable rate. 
 
 " Since I communicate to you all incidents serious and 
 trifling, even to the death of a butterfly, that fall out 
 within the compass of my little empire, you will not, I 
 hope, be ill pleased with the draught I now send you of my 
 little winter paradise, and with an account of my way of 
 amusing myself and others in it. 
 
 " The younger Pliny, you know, writes a long letter to 
 his friend GaUus,' in which he gives him a very particular 
 plan of the situation, the conveniences, and the agreeable- 
 ness of his villa. In my last, you may remember, I pro- 
 mised you something of this kind. Had Pliny lived in a 
 northern climate, I doubt not but we should have found a 
 very complete orangery amongst his Epistles ; and I, prob- 
 
 ' "Epist."ii. 17. 
 338 
 
No. 179- June 1, 17 lo The 'Tatler 
 
 ably, should have copied his model, instead of building 
 after my own fancy, and you had been referred to him 
 for the history of my late exploits in architecture : by 
 which means my performances would have made a better 
 figure, at least in writing, than they are like to make at 
 present. 
 
 " The area of my greenhouse is a hundred paces long, 
 fifty broad, and the roof thirty feet high. The wall 
 toward the north is of solid stone. On the south side, 
 and at both the ends, the stonework rises but three feet 
 from the ground, excepting the pilasters, placed at con- 
 venient distances to strengthen and beautify the building. 
 The intermediate spaces are filled up with large sashes of 
 the strongest and most transparent glass. The middle 
 sash (which is wider than any of the others) serves for the 
 entrance, to which you mount by six easy steps, and 
 descend on the inside by as many. This opens and shuts 
 with greater ease, keeps the wind out better, and is at the 
 same time more uniform than folding-doors. 
 
 " In the middle of the roof there runs a ceiling thirty 
 feet broad from one end to the other. This is enlivened 
 by a masterly pencil, with all the variety of rural scenes 
 and prospects, which he has peopled with the whole tribe 
 of sylvan deities. Their characters and their stories are 
 so well expressed, that the whole seems a collection of all 
 the most beautiful fables of the ancient poets translated 
 into colours. The remaining spaces of the roof, ten feet 
 on each side of the ceiling, are of the clearest glass, to let 
 in the sky and clouds from above. The building points 
 full east and west, so that I enjoy the sun while he is above 
 the horizon. His rays are improved through the glass, 
 and I receive through it what is desirable in a winter- 
 sky, without the coarse alloy of the season, which is a 
 kind of sifting or straining the weather. My greens and 
 
 339 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 179. June 1,1710 
 
 flowers are as sensible as I am of this benefit : they flourish 
 and look cheerful as in the spring, while their fellow 
 creatures abroad are starved to death. I must add, that 
 a moderate expense of fire, over and above the contribu- 
 tions I receive from the sun, serves to keep this large 
 room in a due temperature ; it being sheltered from the 
 cold winds by a hill on the north, and a wood on the 
 east. 
 
 " The shell, you see, is both agreeable and convenient ; 
 and now you shall judge, whether I have laid out the 
 floor to advantage. There goes through the whole 
 length of it a spacious walk of the finest gravel, made to 
 bind and unite so firmly, that it seems one continued 
 stone ; with this advantage, that it is easier to the foot, 
 and better for walking, than if it were what it seems to 
 be. At each end of the walk, on the one and on the 
 other side of it, lies a square plot of grass of the finest 
 turf and brightest verdure. What ground remains on 
 both sides, between these little smooth fields of green, is 
 flagged with large quarries of white marble, where the 
 blue veins trace out such a variety of irregular windings 
 through the clear surface, that these bright plains seem 
 full of rivulets and streaming meanders. This to my eye, 
 that delights in simplicity, is inexpressibly more beautiful 
 than the chequered floors which are so generally admired 
 by others. Upon the right and upon the left, along the 
 gravel walk, I have ranged interchangeably the bay, the 
 myrtle, the orange and the lemon trees, intermixed with 
 painted hollies, silver firs, and pyramids of yew ; all so 
 disposed, that every tree receives an additional beauty from 
 its situation ; besides the harmony that rises from the 
 disposition of the whole, no shade cuts too strongly, or 
 breaks in harshly upon the other ; but the eye is cheered 
 with a mild rather than gorgeous diversity of greens. 
 
 340 
 
No. 179- Junei.iyio The TatUr 
 
 " The borders of the four grass plots are garnished 
 with pots of flowers : those delicacies of Nature create 
 two senses at once, and leave such delightful and gentle 
 impressions upon the brain, that I cannot help thinking 
 them of equal force with the softest airs of music, toward 
 the smoothing of our tempers. In the centre of every 
 plot is a statue. The figures I have made choice of are a 
 Venus, an Adonis, a Diana, and an Apollo ; such excellent 
 copies, as to raise the same delight as we should draw 
 from the sight of the ancient originals. 
 
 " The north wall would have been but a tiresome waste 
 to the eye, if I had not diversified it with the most lively 
 ornaments, suitable to the place. To this intent, I have 
 been at the expense to lead over arches from a neighbour- 
 ing hill a plentiful store of spring water, which a beautiful 
 Naiad, placed as high as is possible in the centre of the 
 wall, pours out from an urn. This, by a fall of above 
 twenty foot, makes a most delightful cascade into a basin, 
 that opens wide within the marble floor on that side. At 
 a reasonable distance, on either hand of the cascade, the 
 wall is hollowed into two spreading scallops, each of 
 which receives a couch of green velvet, and forms at the 
 same time a canopy over them. Next to them come two 
 large aviaries, which are likewise let into the stone. 
 These are succeeded by two grottoes, set off with all the 
 pleasing rudeness of shells and moss, and cragged stones, 
 imitating in miniature rocks and precipices, the most 
 dreadful and gigantic works of Nature. After the 
 grottoes, you have two niches, the one inhabited by Ceres, 
 with her sickle and sheaf of wheat ; and the other by 
 Pomona, who, with a countenance full of good cheer, 
 pours a bounteous autumn of fruits out of her horn. Last 
 of all come two colonies of bees, whose stations lying east 
 and west, the one is saluted by the rising, the other 
 
 341 
 
'The Tatler No. 179. June 1,1710 
 
 by the setting sun. These, all of them being placed at 
 proportioned intervals, furnish out the whole length 
 of the wall ; and the spaces that lie between are painted 
 in fresco, by the same hand that has enriched my 
 ceiling. 
 
 " Now, sir, you see my whole contrivance to elude the 
 rigour of the year, to bring a northern climate nearer the 
 sun, and to exempt myself from the common fate of my 
 countrymen. I must detain you a little longer, to tell 
 you, that I never enter this delicious retirement, but my 
 spirits are revived, and a sweet complacency diffuses itself 
 over my whole mind. And how can it be otherwise, with 
 a conscience void of offence, where the music of falling 
 waters, the symphony of birds, the gentle humming of 
 bees, the breath of flowers, the fine imagery of painting 
 and sculpture : in a word, the beauties and the charms of 
 nature and of art court all my faculties, refresh the fibres 
 of the brain and smooth every avenue of thought. What 
 pleasing meditations, what agreeable wanderings of the 
 mind, and what delicious slumbers, have I enjoyed here ! 
 And when I turn up some masterly writer to my imagina- 
 tion, methinks here his beauties appear in the most 
 advantageous light, and the rays of his genius shoot upon 
 me with greater force and brightness than ordinary. 
 This place likewise keeps the whole family in good 
 humour, in a season wherein gloominess of temper pre- 
 vails universally in this island. My wife does often touch 
 her lute in one of the grottoes, and my daughter sings to 
 it, while the ladies with you, amidst all the diversions of 
 the town, and in the most affluent fortunes, are fretting 
 and repining beneath a lowering sky for they know not 
 what. In this greenhouse we often dine, we drink tea, 
 we dance country dances ; and what is the chief pleasure 
 of all, we entertain our neighbours in it, and by this 
 
No. i8o. june3, lyio T'ke I'atler 
 
 means contribute very much to mend the climate five or 
 six miles about us. I am, 
 
 " Your most humble Servant, 
 
 " T S " ' 
 
 No. I 80. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, June i, to Saturday, June 3, 17 10. 
 
 Stultitiam patiuntur opes. — Hon., I Ep. xviii. 29. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 2. 
 
 I have received a letter which accuses me of partiality 
 in the administration of the Censorship, and says, 
 that I have been very free with the lower part of mankind, 
 but extremely cautious in representations of matters which 
 concern men of condition. This correspondent takes upon 
 him also to say, the upholsterer was not undone by turn- 
 ing politician, but became bankrupt by trusting his goods 
 to persons of quality ; and demands of me, that I should 
 do justice upon such as brought poverty and distress upon 
 the world below them, while they themselves were sunk 
 in pleasures and luxury, supported at the expense of those 
 very persons whom they treated with a negligence, as if 
 
 ^ Thomas Smith, who voted against Steele's expulsion, was member 
 for the borough of Eye, and may have been the person who wrote 
 this letter, to which the initials of his name are subscribed. In the 
 preface to the Examiner, the first number of which was published 
 Aug. 3, 17 10, there is the following passage : "All descriptions of 
 stage-players and statesmen, the erecting of greenhouses, the forming 
 of constellations, the beaus' red heels, and the furbelows of the ladies, 
 shall remain entire to the use and benefit of their first proprietor." 
 
 The description of stage-players and statesmen, here mentioned, is 
 an allusion to Downes' letter. See No. 193. 
 
 313 
 
I' he T'atler No. iSo. June 3,1710 
 
 they did not know whether they dealt with them or not. 
 This is a very heavy accusation, both of me and such 
 as the man aggrieved accuses me of tolerating. For this 
 reason, I resolved to take this matter into consideration, 
 and upon very little meditation could call to my memory 
 many instances which made this complaint far from being 
 groundless. The root of this evil does not always proceed 
 from injustice in the men of figure, but often from a false 
 grandeur which they take upon them in being unacquainted 
 with their own business, not considering how mean a part 
 they act when their names and characters are subjected to 
 the little arts of their servants and dependants. The over- 
 seers of the poor are a people who have no great reputation 
 for the discharge of their trust, but are much less scan- 
 dalous than the overseers of the rich. Ask a young fellow 
 of a great estate, who was that odd fellow spoke to him 
 in a public place i* He answers, " One that does my busi- 
 ness." It is, with many, a natural consequence of being 
 a man of fortune, that they are not to understand the 
 disposal of it ; and they long to come to their estates, only 
 to put themselves under new guardianship. Nay, I have 
 known a young fellow who was regularly bred an attorney, 
 and was a very expert one till he had an estate fallen to 
 him. The moment that happened, he who could before 
 prove the next land he cast his eye upon his own, and was 
 so sharp, that a man at first sight would give him a small 
 sum for a general receipt, whether he owed him anything 
 or not : such a one, I say, have I seen, upon coming to an 
 estate, forget all his diffidence of mankind, and become the 
 most manageable thing breathing. He immediately wanted 
 a stirring man to take upon him his affairs, to receive and 
 pay, and do everything which he himself was now too fine 
 a gentleman to understand. It is pleasant to consider, 
 that he who would have got an estate had he not come to 
 
 34+ 
 
No. i8o. june3, I7IO I'he I'atler 
 
 one, will certainly starve because one fell to him : but such 
 contradictions are we to ourselves, and any change of life 
 is insupportable to some natures. 
 
 It is a mistaken sense of superiority, to believe a figure 
 or equipage gives men precedence to their neighbours. 
 Nothing can create respect from mankind, but laying obli- 
 gations upon them ; and it may very reasonably be con- 
 cluded, that if it were put into a due balance, according 
 to the true state of the account, many who believe them- 
 selves in possession of a large share of dignity in the world, 
 must give place to their inferiors. The greatest of all dis- 
 tinctions in civil life is that of debtor and creditor, and 
 there needs no great progress in logic to know which, in 
 that case, is the advantageous side. He who can say to 
 another, " Pray, master," or " Pray, my lord, give me my 
 own," can as justly tell him, "It is a fantastical distinction you 
 take upon you, to pretend to pass upon the world for my 
 master or lord, when at the same time that I wear your 
 livery, you owe me wages ; or, while I wait at your door, 
 you are ashamed to see me till you have paid my bill." 
 
 The good old way among the gentry of England to 
 maintain their pre-eminence over the lower rank, was by 
 their bounty, munificence, and hospitality ; and it is a very 
 unhappy change, if at present, by themselves or their 
 agents, the luxury of the gentry is supported by the credit 
 of the trader. This is what my correspondent pretends 
 to prove out of his own books, and those of his whole 
 neighbourhood. He has the confidence to say, that there 
 is a mug-house near Long Acre, where you may every 
 evening hear an exact account of distresses of this kind. 
 One complains, that such a lady's finery is the occasion 
 that his own wife and daughter appear so long in the 
 same gown : another, that all the furniture of her visit- 
 ing apartment are no more hers, than the scenery of a 
 
 3+S 
 
T'he T'atler No. iSo. June 3,1710 
 
 play are the proper goods of the actress. Nay, at the 
 lower end of the same table, you may hear a butcher and 
 poulterer say, that at their proper charge all that family 
 has been maintained since they last came to town. 
 
 The free manner in which people of fashion are discoursed 
 on at such meetings, is but a just reproach for their failures 
 in this kind ; but the melancholy relations of the great 
 necessities tradesmen are driven to, who support their 
 credit in spite of the faithless promises which are made them, 
 and the abatement which they suffer when paid, by the 
 extortion of upper servants, is what would stop the most 
 thoughtless man in the career of his pleasures, if rightly 
 represented to him. 
 
 If this matter be not very speedily amended, I shall 
 think fit to print exact lists of all persons who are not at 
 their own disposal, though above the age of twenty-one ; 
 and as the trader is made bankrupt for absence from his 
 abode, so shall the gentleman for being at home, if, when 
 Mr. Morphew calls, he cannot give him an exact account 
 of what passes in his own family. After this fair warning, 
 no one ought to think himself hardly dealt with, if I take 
 upon me to pronounce him no longer master of his estate, 
 wife, or family, than he continues to improve, cherish, and 
 maintain them upon the basis of his own property, without 
 incursions upon his neighbour in any of these particulars. 
 
 According to that excellent philosopher Epictetus, we 
 are all but acting parts in a play ; and it is not a distinc- 
 tion in itself to be high or low, but to become the parts we 
 are to perform. I am by my office prompter on this occa- 
 sion, and shall give those who are a little out in their parts 
 such soft hints as may help them to proceed, without 
 letting it be known to the audience they were out : but if 
 t hey run quite out of character, they must be called ofF the 
 stage, and receive parts more suitable to their genius. 
 
 3+6 
 
No. i8o. June3, lyio l" k 6 T'utler 
 
 Servile complaisance shall degrade a man from his honour 
 and quality, and haughtiness be yet more debased. Fortune 
 shall no longer appropriate 'distinctions, but Nature direct 
 us in the disposition both of respect and discountenance. 
 As there are tempers made for command, and others for 
 obedience ; so there are men born for acquiring posses- 
 sions, and others incapable of being other than mere lodgers 
 in the houses of their ancestors, and have it not in their 
 very composition to be proprietors of anything. These 
 men are moved only by the mere effects of impulse : their 
 goodwill and disesteem are to be regarded equally, for 
 neither is the effect of their judgment. This loose temper is 
 that which makes a man, what Sallust so well remarks to 
 happen frequently in the same person, to be covetous of what 
 is another's, and profuse of what is his own.' This sort of 
 men is usually amiable to ordinary eyes ; but in the sight 
 of reason, nothing is laudable but what is guided by reason. 
 The covetous prodigal is of all others the worst man in 
 society : if he would but take time to look into himself, he 
 would find his soul all over gashed with broken vows and 
 promises, and his retrospect on his actions would not con- 
 sist of reflections upon those good resolutions after mature 
 thought, which are the true life of a reasonable creature, 
 but the nauseous memory of imperfect pleasures, idle dreams, 
 and occasional amusements. To follow such dissatisfying 
 pursuits, is it possible to suffer the ignominy of being 
 unjust ? I remember in TuUy's Epistle, in the recommen- 
 dation of a man to an affair which had no manner of rela- 
 tion to money, it is said, " You may trust him, for he is a 
 frugal man." It is certain, he who has not a regard to 
 strict justice in the commerce of life, can be capable of no 
 good action in any other kind ; but he who lives below his 
 income, lays up every moment of life armour against a 
 ' " Alieni appetens, sui profusus " (" Bell. Cat.'' cap. i.). 
 3+7 
 
'T'he 'Tatler No. iSi. June 6,1710 
 
 base world, that will cover all his frailties while he is so 
 fortified, and exaggerate them when he is naked and 
 defenceless. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 A stage-coach sets out exactly at six from Nando's 
 Coffee-house ' to Mr. Tiptoe's dancing school, and returns 
 at eleven every evening, for idd. 
 
 N.B. Dancing-shoes not exceeding four inches height in 
 the heel, and periwigs not exceeding three feet in length, 
 are carried in the coach-box gratis. 
 
 No. 181, [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, June 3, to TCuesday, June 6, 17 10. 
 Dies, ni fallor, adest, quern semper acerbum, 
 
 Semper honoratum (sic di voluistis), habebo. 
 
 ViRG., ^n. V. 49. 
 
 From my own Apartment^ June 5. 
 
 ' I "'here are those among mankind, who can enjoy no 
 ■*■ relish of their being, except the world is made 
 acquainted with all that relates to them, and think every- 
 thing lost that passes unobserved ; but others find a solid 
 delight in stealing by the crowd, and modelling their life 
 after such a manner, as is as much above the approbation 
 as the practice of the vulgar. Life being too short to 
 give instances great enough of true friendship or good- 
 will, some sages have thought it pious to preserve a certain 
 reverence for the manes of their deceased friends, and have 
 withdrawn themselves from the rest of the world at certain 
 seasons, to commemorate in their own thoughts such of 
 their acquaintance who have gone before them out of this 
 
 ' See No, 142. 
 348 
 
No. 1 8 1. June 6,17 lo T'kc T'atUr 
 
 life : and indeed, when we are advanced in years, there is 
 not a more pleasing entertainment, than to recollect in a 
 gloomy moment the many we have parted with that have 
 been dear and agreeable to us, and to cast a melancholy 
 thought or two after those with whom, perhaps, we have 
 indulged ourselves in whole nights of mirth and jollity. 
 With such inclinations in my heart I went to my closet 
 yesterday in the evening, and resolved to be sorrowful ; 
 upon which occasion, I could not but look with disdain 
 upon myself, that though all the reasons which I had to 
 lament the loss of many of my friends are now as forcible 
 as at the moment of their departure, yet did not my heart 
 swell with the same sorrow which I felt at that time ; but 
 I could, without tears, reflect upon many pleasing adven- 
 tures I have had with some who have long been blended 
 with common earth. Though it is by the benefit of 
 nature that length of time thus blots out the violence of 
 afflictions ; yet with tempers too much given to pleasure, 
 it is almost necessary to revive the old places of grief in 
 our memory, and ponder step by step on past life, to lead 
 the mind into that sobriety of thought which poises the 
 heart, and makes it beat with due time, without being 
 quickened with desire, or retarded with despair, from its 
 proper and equal motion. When we wind up a clock 
 that is out of order, to make it go well for the future, 
 we do not immediately set the hand to the present instant, 
 but we make it strike the round of all its hours, before it 
 can recover the regularity of its time. " Such," thought I, 
 " shall be my method this evening ; and since it is that day 
 of the year which I dedicate to the memory of such in 
 another life as I much delighted in when living, an hour 
 or two shall be sacred to sorrow and their memory, while 
 I run over all the melancholy circumstances of this kind 
 which have occurred to me in my whole life." 
 
 349 
 
T^he 'Tatler No. iSi. June 6,1710 
 
 The first sense of sorrow I ever knew was upon the 
 death of my father,' at which time I was not quite five 
 years of age ; but was rather amazed at what all the 
 house meant, than possessed with a real understanding 
 why nobody was willing to play with me. I remember I 
 went into the room where his body lay, and my mother 
 sat weeping alone by it. I had my battledore in my hand, 
 and fell a beating the coffin, and calling '* Papa " ; for I 
 know not how I had some slight idea that he was locked up 
 there. My mother catched me in her arms, and trans- 
 ported beyond all patience of the silent grief she was 
 before in, she almost smothered me in her embrace, and 
 told me in a flood of tears, papa could not hear me, and 
 would play with me no more, for they were going to put 
 him under ground, whence he could never come to us 
 again. She was a very beautiful woman, of a noble 
 spirit, and there was a dignity in her grief amidst all 
 the wildness of her transport, which, methought, struck 
 me with an instinct of sorrow, which, before I was 
 sensible of what it was to grieve, seized my very soul, 
 and has made pity the weakness of my heart ever since. 
 The mind in infancy is, methinks, like the body in embryo, 
 and receives impressions so forcible, that they are as hard 
 to be removed by reason, as any mark with which a child 
 is born is to be taken away by any future application. 
 Hence it is, that good nature in me is no merit ; but 
 having been so frequently overwhelmed with her tears 
 before I knew the cause of any affliction, or could draw 
 defences from my own judgment, I imbibed commisera- 
 tion, remorse, and an unmanly gentleness of mind, which 
 has since ensnared me into ten thousand calamities, and 
 
 ' Steele's father, Richard Steele, was a Dublin solicitor. His 
 mother, whose maiden name was Elinor Sheyles, had married Thomas 
 Symes, of Dublin, as her first husband. 
 
 350 
 
No. i8i. June6, lyio T'ke T'atUr 
 
 from whence I can reap no advantage, except it be, that 
 in such a humour as I am now in, I can the better 
 indulge myself in the softnesses of humanity, and enjoy 
 that sweet anxiety which arises from the memory of past 
 afflictions.' 
 
 We that are very old, are better able to remember 
 things which befell us in our distant youth, than the 
 passages of later days. For this reason it is, that the 
 companions of my strong and vigorous years present 
 themselves more immediately to me in this office of 
 sorrow. Untimely or unhappy deaths are what we are 
 most apt to lament, so little are we able to make it 
 indifferent when a thing happens, though we know it 
 must happen. Thus we groan under life, and bewail 
 those who are relieved from it. Every object that 
 returns to our imagination raises different passions accord- 
 ing to the circumstance of their departure. Who can 
 have lived in an army, and in a serious hour reflect upon 
 the many gay and agreeable men that might long have 
 flourished in the arts of peace, and not join with the 
 imprecations of the fatherless and widow on the tyrant 
 to whose ambition they fell sacrifices .-' But gallant men, 
 who are cut off by the sword, move rather our veneration 
 than our pity, and we gather relief enough from their own 
 
 ' Thackeray has compared the treatment of Death by Swift, 
 Addison, and Steele. After speaking of Addison's " lovely serenity " 
 and Swift's " savage indignation," he turns to Steele : " The third, 
 whose theme is Death, too, and who will speak his word of mortal as 
 Heaven teaches him, leads you up to his father's cofSn, and shows you 
 his beautiful mother weeping, and himself an unconscious little boy 
 wondering at her side. His own natural tears flow as he takes your 
 hand, and confidingly asks for your sympathy ; ' See how good and 
 innocent and beautiful women are,' he says, 'how tender little 
 children ! Let us love these and one another, brother — God knows 
 we have need of love and pardon ! ' " ("English Humourists," 1864, 
 158-9). 
 
 351 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. iSi. June 6,1710 
 
 contempt of death, to make it no evil, which was 
 approached with so much cheerfulness, and attended with 
 so much honour. But when we turn our thoughts from 
 the great parts of life on such occasions, and instead of 
 lamenting those who stood ready to give death to those 
 from whom they had the fortune to receive it ; I say, 
 when we let our thoughts wander from such noble objects, 
 and consider the havoc which is made among the tender 
 and the innocent, pity enters with an unmixed softness, 
 and possesses all our souls at once. 
 
 Here (were there words to express such sentiments with 
 proper tenderness) I should record the beauty, innocence, 
 and untimely death, of the first object my eyes ever beheld 
 with love. The beauteous virgin ! How ignorantly did 
 she charm, how carelessly excel ! O Death ! thou hast 
 right to the bold, to the ambitious, to the high, and to the 
 haughty, but why this cruelty to the humble, to the meek, 
 to the undiscerning, to the thoughtless } ' Nor age, nor 
 business, nor distress, can erase the dear image from my 
 imagination. In the same week, I saw her dressed for a 
 ball, and in a shroud. How ill did the habit of Death 
 become the pretty trifler ? I still behold the smiling earth 
 — A large train of disasters were coming on to my memory, 
 when my servant knocked at my closet door, and inter- 
 rupted me with a letter, attended with a hamper of wine, 
 of the same sort with that which is to be put to sale on 
 Thursday next at Garraway's Coffee-house." Upon the 
 receipt of it, I sent for three of my friends. We are so 
 
 ' The unsuspecting. 
 
 " " Notice is hereby given, chat 46 hogsheads and one half of 
 extraordinary French claret will be put up to sale, at j^zo per hogshead, 
 at Garraway's CofFee-house in Exchange Alley, on Thursday the 8 th 
 instant, at three in the afternoon, and to be tasted in a vault under' 
 Messrs. Lane and Harrison's, in Sweething's Lane, Lombard Street, 
 from this day till the time of sale," &c. (No. 181, Advertisement). 
 
 3J* 
 
No. 1 82. June 8,17 lo I'he Tatler 
 
 intimate, that we can be company in whatever state of 
 mind we meet, and can entertain each other without 
 expecting always to rejoice. The wine we found to be 
 generous and warming, but with such a heat as moved us 
 rather to be cheerful than frolicsome. It revived the 
 spirits without firing the blood. We commended it till 
 two of the clock this morning, and having to-day met a 
 little before dinner, we found, that though we drank two 
 bottles a man, we had much more reason to recollect than 
 forget what had passed the night before. 
 
 No. 182. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Tuesday, June 6, to Thursday, June 8, 17 10. 
 
 Spectaret populum ludis attentius ipsis. — Hor., 2 Ep. i. 197. 
 
 Sheer Lane, June 7. 
 
 The town grows so very empty, that the greater 
 number of my gay characters are fled out of my 
 sight into the country. My beaus are now shepherds, and 
 my belles wood-nymphs. They are lolling over rivulets, 
 and covered with shades, while we who remain in town 
 hurry through the dust about impertinences, without 
 knowing the happiness of leisure and retirement. To 
 add to this calamity, even the actors are going to desert 
 us for a season, and we shall not shortly have so much as 
 a landscape or frost-scene to refresh ourselves within the 
 midst of our fatigues. This may not perhaps be so sensible a 
 loss to any other as to me ; for I confess it is one of my 
 greatest delights to sit unobserved and unknown in the 
 gallery, and entertain myself either with what is personated 
 on the stage, or observe what appearances present them- 
 selves in the audience. If there were no other good con- 
 voL. III. 353 ^ 
 
'T'he Trailer No. 182. June 8,1710 
 
 sequences in a playhouse, than that so many persons of 
 different ranks and conditions are placed there in their 
 most pleasing aspects, that prospect only would be very 
 far from being below the pleasures of a wise man. There 
 is not one person you can see, in whom, if you look with 
 an inclination to be pleased, you may not behold some- 
 thing worthy or agreeable. Our thoughts are in our 
 features ; and the visage of those in whom love, rage, 
 anger, jealousy or envy, have their frequent mansions, 
 carries the traces of those passions wherever the amorous, 
 the choleric, the jealous, or the envious, are pleased to 
 make their appearance. However, the assembly at a play 
 is usually made up of such as have a sense of some elegance 
 in pleasure, by which means the audience is generally com- 
 posed of those who have gentle affections, or at least of 
 such as at that time are in the best humour you can ever 
 find them. This has insensibly a good efi^ect upon our 
 spirits ; and the musical airs which are played to us, put 
 the whole company into a participation of the same 
 pleasure, and by consequence for that time equal in 
 humour, in fortune, and in quality. Thus far we gain 
 only by coming into an audience ; but if we find added to 
 this, the beauties of proper action, the force of eloquence, 
 and the gaiety of well-placed lights and scenes, it is being 
 happy, and seeing others happy for two hours ; a duration 
 of bliss not at all to be slighted by so short-lived a 
 creature as man. Why then should not the duty of the 
 player be had in much more esteem than it is at present ? 
 If the merit of a performance be to be valued according to 
 the talents which are necessary to it, the qualifications of a 
 player should raise him much above the arts and ways of 
 life which we call mercenary or mechanic. When we look 
 round a full house, and behold so few that can (though 
 they set themselves out to show as much as the persons on 
 
 35+ 
 
No. i82. Junes, I7IO I'he I'atler 
 
 the stage do) come up to what they would appear even in 
 dumb show, how much does the actor deserve our appro- 
 bation, who adds to the advantage of looks and motions 
 the tone of voice, the dignity, the humility, the sorrow, 
 the triumph suitable to the character he personates ? 
 
 It may possibly be imagined by severe men, that I am 
 too frequent in the mention of the theatrical representa- 
 tions ; but who is not excessive in the discourse of what 
 he extremely likes ? Eugenio can lead you to a gallery of 
 fine pictures, which collection he is always increasing : 
 Crassus through woods and forests, to which he designs 
 to add the neighbouring counties. These are great and 
 noble instances of their magnificence. The players are 
 my pictures, and their scenes my territories. By com- 
 municating the pleasure I take in them, it may in some 
 measure add to men's gratifications this way, as viewing 
 the choice and wealth of Eugenio and Crassus augments 
 the enjoyments of those whom they entertain, with a 
 prospect of such possessions as would not otherwise fall 
 within the reach of their fortunes. 
 
 It is a very good office one man does another, when he 
 tells him the manner of his being pleased ; and I have 
 often thought, that a comment upon the capacities of the 
 players would very much improve the delight that way, 
 and impart it to those who otherwise have no sense of it. 
 
 The first of the present stage are Wilks,' and Gibber,'' 
 perfect actors in their different kinds. Wilks has a 
 
 ' See No. 14. 
 
 "' Colley Gibber, actor and dramatist, was born in 1 67 1. He was 
 admirable alike as an actor of comic parts and a critic of acting, and 
 some of his comedies are excellent. In 17 14 Gibber became associated 
 with Steele in the management of Drury Lane Theatre. After his 
 retirement from the stage in 1733 he published his famous '; Apology " 
 (1740). He died in 1757. Steele wrote several times m his praise in 
 the Spectator (Nos. 370, 1546). 
 
 355 
 
'The Tatler No. 182. June 8,1710 
 
 singular talent in representing the graces of Nature, Gibber 
 the deformity in the affectation of them. Were I a writer 
 of plays, I should never employ either of them in parts 
 which had not their bent this way. This is seen in the 
 inimitable strain and run of good humour which is kept 
 up in the character of Wildair,' and in the nice and delicate 
 abuse of understanding in that of Sir Novelty." Gibber, 
 in another light, hits exquisitely the flat civility of an 
 affected gentleman-usher, and Wilks the easy frankness of 
 a gentleman. 
 
 If you would observe the force of the same capacities in 
 higher life, can anything be more ingenuous than the 
 behaviour of Prince Harry when his father checks him ? 
 Anything more exasperating, than that of Richard, when 
 he insults his superiors ? To beseech gracefully, to approach 
 respectfully, to pity, to mourn, to love, are the places 
 wherein Wilks may be made to shine with the utmost 
 beauty : to rally pleasantly, to scorn artfully, to flatter, to 
 ridicule, and to neglect, are what Gibber would perform 
 with no less excellence. 
 
 When actors are considered with a view to their talents, 
 it is not only the pleasure of that hour of action which the 
 spectators gain from their performance, but the opposition 
 of right and wrong on the stage would have its force in the 
 assistance of our judgments on other occasions. I have at 
 present under my tutelage a young poet, who, I design, 
 shall entertain the town the ensuing winter. And as he 
 does me the honour to let me see his comedy as he writes 
 it, I shall endeavour to make the parts fit the genius of the 
 several actors, as exactly as their habits can their bodies : 
 and because the two I have mentioned are to perform the 
 principal parts, I have prevailed with the house to let " The 
 
 ' Sir Harry Wildair, in Farquhar's "Constant Couple." 
 
 » Sir Novelty Fashion, in Cibber's " Love's Last Shift." 
 
 356 
 
No. i82. Junes, lyio The Tathr 
 
 Careless Husband '" be acted on Tuesday next, that my 
 young author may have a view of a play which is acted 
 to perfection, both by them and all concerned in it, as being 
 born within the walls of the theatre, and written with an 
 exact knowledge of the abilities of the performers. Mr. 
 Wilks will do his best in this play, because it is for his own 
 benefit ; and Mr. Gibber, because he writ it. Besides 
 which, all the great beauties we have left in town, or within 
 call of it, will be present, because it is the last play this 
 season. This opportunity will, I hope, inflame my pupil 
 with such generous notions from seeing this fair assembly 
 as will be then present, that his play may be composed of 
 sentiments and characters proper to be presented to such 
 an audience. His drama at present has only the outlines 
 drawn. There are, I find, to be in it all the reverent 
 offices of life, such as regard to parents, husbands, and 
 honourable lovers, preserved with the utmost care ; and at 
 the same time that agreeableness of behaviour, with the 
 intermixture of pleasing passions as arise from innocence 
 and virtue, interspersed in such a manner, as that to be 
 charming and agreeable shall appear the natural conse- 
 quence of being virtuous. This great end is one of those 
 I propose ta do in my Censorship ; but if I find a thin 
 house, on an occasion when such a work is to be promoted, 
 my pupil shall return to his commons at Oxford, and Sheer 
 Lane and the theatres be no longer correspondents. 
 
 ' In this play, produced in 1705, Wilks was Sir Charles Easy; 
 Gibber, Lord Foppington ; and Mrs. Oldfield, Lady Betty Modish. 
 In his "Apology" Gibber said that it was only just to place to the 
 account of Mrs. Oldfield a large share of the favourable reception 
 accorded to " The Gareless Husband." 
 
 3S7 
 
'The Tatler No. 183. June 10,1710 
 
 No. 183. [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, June 8, to Saturday, June lO, 1710. 
 
 Fuit haec sapientia quondam. 
 
 Publica privatis secernere. 
 
 HoR., Ars Poet. 396. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 9. 
 
 When men look into their own bosoms, and consider 
 the generous seeds which are there planted, that 
 might, if rightly cultivated, ennoble their lives, and make 
 their virtue venerable to futurity ; how can they, without 
 tears, reflect on the universal degeneracy from that public 
 spirit, which ought to be the first and principal motive 
 of all their actions ? In the Grecian and Roman nations, 
 they were wise enough to keep up this great incentive, 
 and it was impossible to be in the fashion without being 
 a patriot. All gallantry had its first source from hence ; 
 and to want a warmth for the public welfare was a defect 
 so scandalous, that he who was guilty of it had no pre- 
 tence to honour or manhood. What makes the depravity 
 among us in this behalf the more vexatious and irksome 
 to reflect upon, is, that the contempt of life is carried 
 as far amongst us as it could be in those memorable 
 people ; and we want only a proper application of the 
 qualities which are frequent among us to be as worthy as 
 they. There is hardly a man to be found who will not 
 fight upon any occasion which he thinks may taint his own 
 honour. Were this motive as strong in everything that 
 regards the public, as it is in this our private case, no man 
 would pass his life away without having distinguished him- 
 self by some gallant instance of his zeal towards it in the 
 respective incidents of his life and profession. But it is so 
 
 3S8 
 
No. 183. juneio, I7IO I'he 'Tatler 
 
 far otherwise, that there cannot at present be a more ridi- 
 culous animal than one who seems to regard the good of 
 others. He in civil life whose thoughts turn upon schemes 
 which may be of general benefit, without further reflection, 
 is called a " projector " ; and the man whose mind seems 
 intent upon glorious achievements, a " knight-errant." The 
 ridicule among us runs strong against laudable actions. 
 Nay, in the ordinary course or things, and the common 
 regards of life, negligence of the public is an epidemic vice. 
 The brewer in his excise, the merchant in his customs, and 
 for aught we know the soldier in his muster-rolls, think 
 never the worse of themselves for being guilty of their re- 
 spective frauds towards the public. This evil is come to 
 such a fantastical height, that he is a man of a public 
 spirit, and heroically affected to his country, who can go 
 so far as even to turn usurer with all he has In her funds. 
 There is not a citizen in whose imagination such a one 
 does not appear in the same light of glory as Codrus, 
 Scaevola, or any other great name in old Rome. Were it 
 not for the heroes of so much per cent, as have regard 
 enough for themselves and their nation to trade with her 
 with their wealth, the very notion of public love would 
 long ere now have vanished from among us. But how- 
 ever general custom may hurry us away in the stream of a 
 common error, there is no evil, no crime, so great as that 
 of being cold in matters which relate to the common good. 
 This is in nothing more conspicuous than in a certain 
 willingness to receive anything that tends to the diminu- 
 tion of such as have been conspicuous instruments in our 
 service. Such inclinations proceed from the most low 
 and vile corruption of which the soul of man is capable. 
 This effaces not only the practice, but the very approba- 
 tion of honour and virtue ; and has had such an effect 
 that, to speak freely, the very sense of public good has no 
 
 359 
 
'T'he Tatler No. 183. June 10, 1710 
 
 longer a part even in our conversations. Can then the 
 most generous motive of life, the good of others, be so 
 easily banished from the breast of man } Is it possible to 
 draw all our passions inward ? Shall the boiling heat of 
 youth be sunk in pleasures, the ambition of manhood in 
 selfish intrigues ? Shall all that is glorious, all that is 
 worth the pursuit of great minds, be so easily rooted out } 
 When the universal bent of a people seems j diverted 
 from the sense of their common good and common glory, 
 it looks like a fatality, and crisis of impending mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 The generous nations we just now mentioned under- 
 stood this so very well, that there was hardly an oration 
 ever made which did not turn upon this general sense, that 
 the love of their country was the first and most essential 
 quality in an honest mind. Demosthenes, in a cause 
 wherein his fame, reputation, and fortune were embarked, 
 puts his all upon this issue : " Let the Athenians," says he, 
 " be benevolent to me, as they think I have been zealous 
 for them." This great and discerning orator knew there 
 was nothing else in nature could bear him up against his 
 adversaries, but this one quality of having shown himself 
 willing or able to serve his country. This certainly is the 
 test of merit ; and the first foundation for deserving good- 
 will, is having it yourself. The adversary of this orator 
 at that time was JEschines, a man of wily arts and skill in 
 the world, who could, as occasion served, fall in with a 
 national start of passion, or sullenness of humour (which a 
 whole nation is sometimes taken with as well as a private 
 man), and by that means divert them from their common 
 sense, into an aversion for receiving anything in its true 
 light. But when Demosthenes had awaked his audience 
 with that one hint of judging by the general tenor of his 
 life towards them, his services bore down his opponent 
 
 360 
 
No. 183. juneio, I7IO T'ke T'atler 
 
 before him, who fled to the covert of his mean arts till 
 some more favourable occasion should offer, against the 
 superior merit of Demosthenes. 
 
 It were to be wished, that love of their country were 
 the first principle of action in men of business, even for 
 their own sakes ; for when the world begins to examine 
 into their conduct, the generality, who have no share in, 
 or hopes of any part in power or riches, but what is the 
 effect of their own labour or property, will judge of them 
 by no other method, than that of how profitable their 
 administration has been to the whole. They who are out 
 of the influence of men's fortune or favour, will let them 
 stand or fall by this one only rule ; and men who can bear 
 being tried by it, are always popular in their fall : those 
 who cannot suffer such a scrutiny, are contemptible in their 
 advancement. 
 
 But I am here running into shreds of maxims from 
 reading Tacitus this morning, which has driven me 
 from my recommendation of public spirit, which was the 
 intended purpose of this Lucubration. There is not a more 
 glorious instance of it, than in the character of Regulus. 
 This same Regulus was taken prisoner by the Carthagenians, 
 and was sent by them to Rome, in order to demand some 
 Punic noblemen who were prisoners in exchange for 
 himself, and was bound by an oath that he would return 
 to Carthage if he failed in his commission. He proposes 
 this to the Senate, who were in suspense upon it ; which 
 Regulus observing (without having the least notion of 
 putting the care of his own life in competition with the 
 public good), desired them to consider that he was old, and 
 almost useless ; that those demanded in exchange were men 
 of daring tempers, and great merit in military affairs, and 
 wondered they would make any doubt of permitting him 
 to go back to the short tortures prepared for him at Car- 
 
 361 
 
^he 'Tatler No. 184. June 13, 1 7 10 
 
 thage, where he should have the advantage of ending a 
 long life both gloriously and usefully. This generous 
 advice was consented to, and he took his leave of his 
 country and his weeping friends to go to certain death, 
 with that cheerful composure, as a man, after the fatigue 
 of business in a Court or a city, retires to the next village 
 for the air. 
 
 No. 184. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, June lo, to 'Tuesday, June 13, 1710. 
 
 Una de muhis face nuptial! 
 Digna. — Hor., 3 Od. xi. 33. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 12. 
 
 There are certain occasions of life which give propitious 
 omens of the future good conduct of it, as well as 
 others which explain our present inward state, according to 
 our behaviour in them. Of the latter sort are funerals ; 
 of the former, weddings. The manner of our carriage 
 when we lose a friend, shows very much our temper, in the 
 humility of our words and actions, and a general sense of 
 our destitute condition, which runs through all our deport- 
 ment. This gives a solemn testimony of the generous 
 affection we bore our friends, when we seem to disrelish 
 everything now we can no more enjoy them, or see them 
 partake in our enjoyments. It is very proper and human 
 to put ourselves as it were in their livery after their 
 decease, and wear a habit unsuitable to prosperity, while 
 those we loved and honoured are mouldering in the grave. 
 As this is laudable on the sorrowful side ; so on the other, 
 incidents of success may no less justly be represented and 
 acknowledged in our outward figure and carriage. Of all 
 
 362 
 
No. i84. Junei3, lyio The T^UtUr 
 
 such occasions, that great change of a single life into mar- 
 riage is the most important, as it is the source of all rela- 
 tions, and from whence all other friendship and commerce do 
 principally arise. The general intent of both sexes is to 
 dispose of themselves happily and honourably in this state ; 
 and as all the good qualities we have are exerted to make 
 our way into it, so the best appearance, with regard to their 
 minds, their persons, and their fortunes, at the first entrance 
 into it, is a due to each other in the married pair, as well 
 as a compliment to the rest of the world. It was an instruc- 
 tion of a wise lawgiver, that unmarried women should 
 wear such loose habits which, in the flowing of their garb, 
 should incite their beholders to a desire of their persons ; 
 and that the ordinary motion of their bodies might display 
 the figure and shape of their limbs in such a manner, as at 
 once to preserve the strictest decency, and raise the warmest 
 inclinations. 
 
 This was the economy of the legislator for the increase 
 of people, and at the same time for the preservation of the 
 genial bed. She who was the admiration of all who beheld 
 her while unmarried, was to bid adieu to the pleasure of 
 shining in the eyes of many, as soon as she took upon her 
 the wedded condition. However, there was a festival of 
 life allowed the new-married, a sort of intermediate state 
 between celibacy and matrimony, which continued certain 
 days. During that time, entertainments, equipages, and 
 other circumstances of rejoicing, were encouraged, and they 
 were permitted to exceed the common mode of living, 
 that the bride and bridegroom might learn from such 
 freedoms of conversation to run into a general conduct to 
 each other, made out of their past and future state, so to 
 temper the cares of the man and the wife with the gaieties 
 of the lover and the mistress. 
 
 In those wise ages the dignity of life was kept up, and 
 
 363 
 
I'he 'Tatler No. 184. June 13,1710 
 
 on the celebration of such solemnities there were no 
 impertinent whispers and senseless interpretations put upon 
 the unaffected cheerfulness or accidental seriousness of the 
 bride ; but men turned their thoughts upon the general 
 reflections, upon what issue might probably be expected 
 from such a couple in the succeeding course of their 
 life, and felicitated them accordingly upon such prospects. 
 I must confess, I cannot from any ancient manuscripts, 
 sculptures, or medals, deduce the rise of our celebrated 
 custom of throwing the stocking ; but have a faint 
 memory of an account a friend gave me of an original 
 picture in the palace of Aldobrandini in Rome. This 
 seems to show a sense of this affair very different from 
 what is usual among us. It is a Grecian wedding, and the 
 figures represented are, a person offering sacrifice, a beau- 
 tiful damsel dancing, and another playing on the harp. 
 The bride is placed in her bed, the bridegroom sits at 
 the foot of it, with an aspect which intimates his thoughts 
 were not only entertained with the joys with which he 
 was surrounded, but also with a noble gratitude, and 
 divine pleasure in the offering, which was then made to 
 the gods to invoke their influence on his new condition. 
 There appears in the face of the woman a mixture of fear, 
 hope, and modesty ; in the bridegroom, a well-governed 
 rapture. As you see in great spirits grief which discovers 
 itself the more by forbearing tears and complaints, you 
 may observe also the highest joy is too big for utterance, 
 the tongue being of all the organs the least capable of ex- 
 pressing such a circumstance. The nuptial torch, the 
 bower, the marriage song, are all particulars which we 
 meet with in the allusions of the ancient writers ; and 
 in every one of them something is to be observed which 
 denotes their industry to aggrandise and adorn this 
 occasion above all others. 
 
 36+ 
 
No. 184. June 13,1710 'The Tatler 
 
 With us all order and decency in this point is per- 
 verted by the insipid mirth of certain animals we usually 
 call " wags." These are a species of all men the most 
 insupportable. One cannot without some reflection say, 
 whether their flat mirth provokes us more to pity or to 
 scorn ; but if one considers with how great affectation 
 they utter their frigid conceits, commiseration immediately 
 changes itself into contempt. 
 
 A w^ is the last order even of pretenders to wit and 
 good humour. He has generally his mind prepared to 
 receive some occasion of merriment, but is of himself 
 too empty to draw any out of his own set of thoughts, 
 and therefore laughs at the next thing he meets, not 
 because it is ridiculous, but because he is under a neces- 
 sity of laughing. A wag is one that never in its life saw a 
 beautiful object, but sees what it does see in the most low 
 and most inconsiderable light it can be placed. There 
 is a certain ability necessary to behold what is amiable 
 and worthy of our approbation, which little minds want, 
 and attempt to hide by a general disregard to everything 
 they behold above what they are able to relish. Hence it 
 is, that a wag in an assembly is ever guessing how well 
 such a lady slept last night, and how much such a young 
 fellow is pleased with himself. The wag's gaiety consists 
 in a certain professed ill-breeding, as if it were an excuse 
 for committing a fault, that a man knows he does so. 
 Though all public places are full of persons of this order, 
 yet, because I will not allow impertinence and aflFectation 
 to get the better of native innocence and simplicity of 
 manners, I have, in spite of such little disturbers of public 
 entertainments, persuaded my brother Tranquillus and his 
 wife my sister Jenny, in favour of Mr. Wilks, to be at the 
 play to-morrow evening. 
 
 They, as they have so much good sense as to act 
 
 365 
 
±he T^atler No. 184. junei3, 1710 
 
 naturally, without regard to the observation of others, 
 will not, I hope, be discomposed if any of the fry of wags 
 should take upon them to make themselves merry upon 
 the occasion of their coming, as they intend, in their 
 wedding clothes. My brother is a plain, worthy, and 
 honest man, and as it is natural for men of that turn 
 to be mightily taken with sprightly and airy women, my 
 sister has a vivacity which may perhaps give hopes to 
 inipertinents, but will be esteemed the effect of innocence 
 among wise men. They design to sit with me in the 
 box, which the house have been so complaisant to offer 
 me whenever I think fit to come thither in my public 
 character.^ 
 
 I do not in the least doubt, but the true figure of con- 
 jugal affection will appear in their looks and gestures. 
 My sister does not affect to be gorgeous in her dress, and 
 thinks the happiness of a wife is more visible in a cheerful 
 look than a gay apparel. It is a hard task to speak of 
 persons so nearly related to one with decency, but I may 
 say, all who shall be at the play will allow him to have the 
 mien of a worthy English gentleman ; her, that of a 
 notable and deserving wife. 
 
 ^ See Nos. 120, I2Z. "I remember Mr. Bickerstaff at the play- 
 house, and with what a modest, decent gravity he behaved himself" 
 {Examiner, vol. iii. No. 46). This passage occurs in a notice of 
 Addison's " Cato," where it is said that on the first night a crowd of 
 silly people "were drawn up under the leading of the renowned 
 Ironside, and appointed to clap at his signals. . ■ . The Spectator 
 never appeared in public with a worse grace." 
 
 366 
 
No. 185. June 15,1710 T'ke T'athr 
 
 No. 185. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, June 13, to Thursday, June 15, 1710. 
 
 Notitiam primosque gradus vicinia fecit ; 
 Tempore crevit amor, tasdse quoque jure coissent ; 
 Sed vetuere patres, quod non potuere vetare. 
 Ex aequo captis ardebant mentibus ambo. 
 
 Ovid, Met. iv. 59. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 14. 
 
 As soon as I was up this morning, my man gave me the 
 following lettei, which, since it leads to a subject 
 that may prove of common use to the world, I shall take 
 notice of with as much expedition as my fair petitioner 
 could desire : 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " Cince you have so often declared yourself a patron of 
 •^ the distressed, I must acquaint you, that I am 
 daughter to a country gentleman of good sense, and may 
 expect j^ 3000 or j^ 4000 for my fortune. I love and am 
 beloved by Philander, a young gentleman who has an 
 estate of ;^5oo per annum, and is our near neighbour in 
 the country every summer. My father, though he has 
 been a long time acquainted with it, constantly refuses to 
 comply with our mutual inclinations : but what most of 
 all torments me, is, that if ever I speak in commendation 
 of my lover, he is much louder in his praises than myself ; 
 and professes that it is out of pure love and esteem for 
 Philander, as well as his daughter, that he can never con- 
 sent we should marry each other ; when (as he terms it) 
 we may both do so much better. It must indeed be con- 
 fessed, that two gentlemen of considerable fortunes, made 
 
 367 
 
T'he Tatler No, 185. junei5, 1710 
 
 their addresses to me last winter, and Philander (as I have 
 since learned) was ofFered a young heiress with j^ 15,000, 
 but it seems we could neither of us think, that accepting 
 those matches would be doing better than remaining con- 
 stant to our first passion. Your thoughts upon the whole 
 may perhaps have some weight with my father, who is one 
 of your admirers, as is 
 
 " Your humble Servant, 
 
 "Sylvia. 
 
 " P.S. You are desired to be speedy, since my father 
 daily presses me to accept of what he calls an ' advantageous 
 ofFer.' " 
 
 There is no calamity in life that falls heavier upon 
 human nature than a disappointment in love, especially 
 when it happens between two persons whose hearts are 
 mutually engaged to each other. It is this distress which 
 has given occasion to some of the finest tragedies that 
 were ever written, and daily fills the world with melancholy, 
 discontent, frenzy, sickness, despair, and death. I have 
 often admired at the barbarity of parents, who so fre- 
 quently interpose their authority in this grand article of 
 life. I would fain ask Sylvia's father, whether he thinks 
 he can bestow a greater favour on his daughter, than to 
 put her in a way to live happily .? Whether a man of 
 Philander's character, with {^ 500 per annum, is not more 
 likely to contribute to that end, than many a young fellow 
 whom he may have in his thoughts with so many thou- 
 sands .'' Whether he can make amends to his daughter by 
 any increase of riches, for the loss of that happiness she 
 proposes to herself in her Philander } Or whether a 
 father should compound with his daughter to be miserable, 
 though she were to get ^20,000 by the bargain } I suppose 
 
 368 
 
No. 185. June 15, lyio T'ke 'TatUr 
 
 he would have her reflect with esteem on his memory after 
 his death : and does he think this a proper method to 
 make her do so, when, as often as she thinks on the loss of 
 her Philander, she must at the same time remember him 
 as the cruel cause of it ? Any transient ill-humour is 
 soon forgotten ; but the reflection of such a cruelty must 
 continue to raise resentments as long as life itself ; and by 
 this one piece of barbarity, an indulgent father loses the 
 merit of all his past kindnesses. It is not impossible but 
 she may deceive herself in the happiness which she pro- 
 poses from Philander ; but as in such a case she can have 
 no one to blame but herself, she will bear the disappoint- 
 ment with greater patience ; but if she never makes the 
 experiment, however happy she may be with another, she 
 will still think she might have been happier with Phil- 
 ander. There is a kind of sympathy in souls that fits 
 them for each other ; and we may be assured, when we 
 see two persons engaged in the warmths of a mutual 
 affection, that there are certain qualities in both their 
 minds which bear a resemblance to one another. A 
 generous and constant passion in an agreeable lover, where 
 there is not too great a disparity in other circumstances, is 
 the greatest blessing that can befall the person beloved ; 
 and if overlooked in one, may perhaps never be found 
 in another. I shall conclude this with a celebrated 
 instance of a father's indulgence in this particular, which, 
 though carried to an extravagance, has something in it so 
 tender and amiable, as may justly reproach the hardness 
 of temper that is to be met with in many a British 
 father. 
 
 Antiochus, a prince of great hopes, fell passionately in 
 love with the young Queen Stratonice, who was his 
 mother-in-law, and had bore a son to the old King Seleucus 
 his father. The prince finding it impossible to extinguish 
 
 VOL. III. 369 * * 
 
'The Tatler No. 185. junei5, 1710 
 
 his passion, fell sick, and refused all manner of nourish- 
 ment, being determined to put an end to that life which 
 was become insupportable. 
 
 Erasistratus the physician soon found that love was his 
 distemper ; and observing the alteration in his pulse and 
 countenance whenever Stratonice made him a visit, was 
 soon satisfied that he was dying for his young mother-in- 
 law. Knowing the old king's tenderness for his son, when 
 he one morning inquired of his health, he told him, that 
 the prince's distemper was love ; but that it was incurable, 
 because it was impossible for him to possess the person 
 whom he loved. The king, surprised at this account, 
 desired to know how his son's passion could be incurable } 
 " Why, sir," replied Erasistratus, " because he is in love 
 with the person I am married to." 
 
 The old king immediately conjured him by all his past 
 favours to save the life of his son and successor. "Sir," 
 said Erasistratus, " would your majesty but fancy yourself 
 in my place, you would see the unreasonableness of what 
 you desire ! " " Heaven is my witness," said Seleucus, " I 
 could resign even my Stratonice to save my Antiochus." 
 At this the tears ran down his cheeks, which when the 
 physician saw, taking him by the hand, " Sir," says he, 
 " if these are your real sentiments, the prince's life is out 
 of danger ; it is Stratonice for whom he dies." Seleucus 
 immediately gave orders for solemnising the marriage ; 
 and the young queen, to show her obedience, very gener- 
 ously exchanged the father for the son. 
 
 370 
 
No. 1 86. June 17, 17 lo I'he T'utler 
 
 No. I 8 6 . [Steele. 
 
 From Thursday, June 15, to Saturday, June 17, 17 10. 
 
 Emitur sola virtute potestas. 
 
 Claudian, De Tertio Consulatu Honorii, 188. 
 
 Sheer Lane, June 16. 
 
 As it has been the endeavour of these our labours to 
 extirpate from among the polite or busy part of man- 
 kind, all such as are either prejudicial or insignificant to 
 society ; so it ought to be no less our study to supply the 
 havoc we have made by an exact care of the growing 
 generation. But when we begin to inculcate proper pre- 
 cepts to the children of this island, except we could take 
 them out of their nurses' arms, we see an amendment is 
 almost impracticable ; for we find the whole species of our 
 youth and grown men is incorrigibly prepossessed with 
 vanity, pride, or ambition, according to the respective 
 pursuits to which they turn themselves : by which means 
 the world is infatuated with the love of appearances instead 
 of things. Thus the vain man takes praise for honour, 
 the proud man ceremony for respect, the ambitious man 
 power for glory. These three characters are, indeed, of 
 very near resemblance, but differently received by man- 
 kind. Vanity makes men ridiculous ; pride, odious ; and 
 ambition, terrible. The foundation of all which is, that 
 they are grounded upon falsehood : for if men, instead of 
 studying to appear considerable, were in their own hearts 
 possessors of the requisites for esteem, the acceptance they 
 otherwise unfortunately aim at would be as inseparable 
 from them, as approbation is from truth itself. By this 
 means they would have some rule to walk by ; and they 
 
 371 
 
I'he Tatler No. 1 86. June 17, 1 710 
 
 may ever be assured, that a good cause of action will cer- 
 tainly receive a suitable effect. It may be a useful hint in 
 such cases for a man to ask of himself, whether he really 
 is what he has a mind to be thought .'' ^ If he is, he need 
 not give himself much further anxiety. " What will the 
 world say ? " is the common question in matters of diffi- 
 culty ; as if the terror lay wholly in the sense which others, 
 and not we ourselves, shall have of our actions. From 
 this one source arise all the impostors in every art and 
 profession, in all places, among all persons in conversation, 
 as well as in business. Hence it is, that a vain fellow 
 takes twice as much pains to be ridiculous, as would make 
 him sincerely agreeable. 
 
 Can any one be better fashioned, better bred, or has any 
 one more good nature, than Damasippus ? But the whole 
 scope of his looks and actions tends so immediately to gain 
 the good opinion of all he converses with, that he loses it 
 for that only reason. As it is the nature of vanity to 
 impose false shows for truths, so does it also turn real 
 possessions into imaginary ones. Damasippus, by assuming 
 to himself what he has not, robs himself of what he has. 
 
 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, who- 
 ever 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 on a glass to see how they 
 
 ' See Nos. 30, 39, 138. 
 372 
 
No. i86. June 17, 1710 T'he T'athr 
 
 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 night- 
 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 in- 
 experience 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 comeli- 
 ness of person. 
 
 To me, who see people every day in the midst of 
 crowds (whomsoever they seem to address to) 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. 
 
 The effects of pride and vanity are of consequence only 
 to the proud and the vain, and tend to no further ill than 
 what is personal to themselves, in preventing their pro- 
 gress in anything that is worthy and laudable, and creating 
 envy instead of emulation of superior virtue. These ill 
 qualities are to be found only in such as have so little 
 minds, as to circumscribe their thoughts and designs within 
 what properly relates to the value which they think due to 
 their dear and amiable selves : but ambition, which is the 
 
 373 
 
T'he T'atler No. 1 86. June 17, 1 710 
 
 third great impediment to honour and virtue, is a fault of 
 such as think themselves born for moving in a higher 
 orb, and prefer being powerful and mischievous to being 
 virtuous and obscure. The parent of this mischief in life, 
 so far as to regulate it into schemes, and make it possess a 
 man's whole heart, without his believing himself a demon, 
 was Machiavelli. He first taught, that a man must neces- 
 sarily appear weak to be honest. Hence it gains upon 
 the imagination, that a great is not so despicable as a 
 little villain ; and men are insensibly led to a belief, that 
 the aggravation of crimes is the diminution of them. 
 Hence the impiety of thinking one thing and speaking 
 another. In pursuance of this empty and unsatisfying 
 dream, to betray, to undermine, to kill in themselves all 
 natural sentiments of love to friends or country, is the 
 willing practice of such as are thirsty of power, for any 
 other reason than that of being useful and acceptable to 
 mankind. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Whereas Mr. BickerstafF has lately received a letter out 
 of Ireland, dated June 9, importing that he is grown very 
 dull, for the postage of which Mr. Morphew charges one 
 shilling ; and another without date of place or time, for 
 which he the said Morphew charges twopence : it is 
 desired, that for the future his courteous and uncourteous 
 readers will go a little further in expressing their good and 
 ill-will, and pay for the carriage of their letters, otherwise 
 the intended pleasure or pain which is designed for 
 Mr. BickerstafF will be wholly disappointed. 
 
 37+ 
 
No. 187. June 20, 17 10 'The Tutler 
 
 No. 187. [Steele. 
 
 From Saturday, June 17, to 'Tuesday, June 20, 17 10. 
 
 • Pudet haec opprobria nobis 
 
 Et dici potuisse et non potuisse refelli. 
 
 Ovid, Met. i. 758. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 19. 
 
 Pasquin of Rome to Isaac Bickerstaff of London} 
 
 " T Tis Holiness is gone to Castel Gandolpho, much dis- 
 AJ- composed at some late accounts from the mis- 
 sionaries in your island : for a committee of cardinals, 
 which lately sat for the reviving the force of some obsolete 
 doctrines, and drawing up amendments to certain points of 
 faith, have represented the Church of Rome to be in great 
 danger, from a treatise written by a learned Englishman, 
 which carries spiritual power much higher than we could 
 have dared to have attempted even here. His book is 
 called, ' An Epistolary Discourse, proving from the Scrip- 
 tures and the First Fathers, that the Soul is a Principle 
 naturally Mortal : wherein is proved, that none have the 
 Power of giving this Divine immortalising Spirit since the 
 Apostles, but the Bishops.' By Henry Dodwell, A.M.'' 
 The assertion appeared to our literati so short and effectual 
 
 1 See No. 129. In Lillie's "Letters sent to the Tatler and 
 Spectator" (i. 56) there is a letter from " Orontes" to Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 dated July 6, 1710, referring to this and to No. 190, in which the 
 writer says : " You would do yourself a grand favour, if you would 
 break off acquaintance with the Italian Pasquin, and not disturb your- 
 self with principles which are as far above your thoughts as the 
 probability of your discovering the philosopher's stone." A censor 
 should not be among the factions. 
 
 » See No. 118. 
 
 375 
 
'The Tatler No. 187. June 20, 1710 
 
 a method of subjecting the laity, that it is feared auricular 
 confession and absolution will not be capable of keeping 
 the clergy of Rome in any degree of greatness, in com- 
 petition with such teachers whose flocks shall receive this 
 opinion. What gives the greater jealousy here is, that in 
 the catalogue of treatises which have been lately burnt 
 within the British territories, there is no mention made of 
 this learned work ; which circumstance is a sort of impli- 
 cation, that the tenet is not held erroneous, but that the 
 doctrine is received amongst you as orthodox. The youth 
 of this place are very much divided in opinion, whether a 
 very memorable quotation which the author repeats out of 
 Tertullian, be not rather of the style and manner of 
 Meursius ? In illo ipso voluntatis astu quo genitale virus 
 exfellitur, nonne aliquid de anima quoque, sentimus exire, 
 atque, adeo marcessimus et devigescimus cum lucis detrimento ? 
 This piece of Latin goes no further than to tell us how 
 our fathers got us, so that we are still at a loss how we 
 afterwards commence eternal ; for creando infunditur, et 
 infundendo creatur, which is mentioned soon after, may 
 allude only to flesh and blood as well as the former. 
 Your readers in this city, some of whom have very much 
 approved the warmth with which you have attacked free- 
 thinkers, atheists, and other enemies to religion and virtue, 
 are very much disturbed that you have given them no 
 account of this remarkable dissertation : and I am 
 employed by them to desire you would with all possible 
 expedition send me over the ceremony of the creation of 
 souls, as well as a list of all the mortal and immortal men 
 within the dominions of Great Britain. When you have 
 done me this favour, I must trouble you for other tokens 
 of your kindness, and particularly I desire you would let 
 me have the religious handkerchief,^ which is of late so 
 ^ Handkerchiefs printed with pictures of Dr. Sacheverell. 
 376 
 
No. iSy. June20, lyio T'ke T'utler 
 
 much worn in England, for I have promised to make a 
 present of it to a courtesan of a French Minister. 
 
 " Letters from the frontiers of France inform us, that a 
 young gentleman! who was to have been created a cardinal 
 on the next promotion, has put off his design of coming 
 to Rome so soon as was intended, having, as it is said, 
 received letters from Great Britain, wherein several virtuosi 
 of that island have desired him to suspend his resolutions 
 towards a monastic life, till the British grammarians shall 
 publish their explication of the words ' indefeasible ' and 
 ' revolution.' According as these two hard terms are 
 made to fit the mouths of the people, this gentleman takes 
 his measures for his journey hither. 
 
 " Your ' New Bedlam ' has been read and considered by 
 some of your countrymen among us ; and one gentleman, 
 who is now here as a traveller, says your design is im- 
 practicable, for that there can be no place large enough 
 to contain the number of your lunatics. He advises you 
 therefore to name the ambient sea for the boundary of 
 your hospital. If what he says be true, I do not see how 
 you can think of any other enclosure ; for according to 
 his discourse, the whole people are taken with a vertigo ; 
 great and popular actions are received with coldness and 
 discontent ; ill news hoped for with impatience ; heroes 
 in your service are treated with calumny, while criminals 
 pass through your towns with acclamations.'' 
 
 ! The Pretender. 
 
 " Dr. Sacheverell received many popular ovations while he was 
 suspended from preaching: "Lest these brethren in iniquity [the 
 Observator and the Review'] should not prove sufficient to poison the 
 nation, sow sedition plentifully, and ripen rebellion to a fruitful harvest 
 of blood and rapine, a third person [the Tatler] who for a considerable 
 time hath diverted the Town with the most useful and pleasing 
 amusements our age ever produced, hath joined in the cry with them, 
 in hopes, no doubt, that by his additional strength they shall become 
 
 377 
 
'T'he T'atler No. 187. juneio, 1710 
 
 "This Englishman went on to say, you seemed at 
 present to flag under a satiety of success, as if you wanted 
 misfortune as a necessary vicissitude. Yet, alas ! though 
 men have but a cold relish of prosperity, quick is the 
 anguish of the contrary fortune. He proceeded to make 
 comparisons of times, seasons, and great incidents. After 
 which he grew too learned for my understanding, and 
 talked of Hanno the Carthaginian, and his irreconcilable 
 hatred to the glorious commander Hannibal. Hannibal, 
 said he, was able to march to Rome itself, and brought 
 that ambitious people, which designed no less than the 
 
 such a formidable Triumvirate that all opposition must fall before 
 them, and the Church irresistibly submit to that fate which the other 
 two have so long endeavoured to procure by their seditious popular 
 harangues. . . . Our third gentleman is pleased to tell us, ' That great 
 and popular actions,^ Sec. This is a subtle way to create jealousies and 
 divisions amongst us, noways becoming the character of a gentleman, 
 or an ingenuous education. Pray, sir, speak plain, and don't instil 
 your poison secretly, and stab in the dark. What heroes in our service 
 are treated with calumny ? Who do you mean by your Hanno and 
 Hannibal ? All the nation owns and glories in the noble actions of 
 our great Duke of Marlborough" {Moderator, No. 13, June 30 to 
 July 3, 1710). The next number of the Moderator, No. I/), is upon 
 the same subject, and is largely occupied with a discussion of the legal 
 question mentioned in the Tatler, No. 190. The writer speaks of the 
 brains of the common people, who are too apt to censure the actions 
 of their superiors, as " set on work by a person who has gained their 
 esteem by his learned Lucubrations." " They are assured that a gentle- 
 man of his bright parts and learning must be intimately acquainted 
 with persons of the first rank and quality, from whom he learns these 
 high and important secrets which he thus generously communicates to 
 the world." If any one, therefore, pretends that the author's meaning 
 is that the " Duke of Marlborough is likely to be ruined by the Lord 
 Treasurer's converting to other uses that money which our Senate 
 voted for our General's service, who is to be blamed for the vile asper- 
 sion ? " Ministers should take care that the spreaders of such false 
 reports shall know to their cost that the Act respecting false and 
 slanderous news is still in force. 
 
 378 
 
No. isy. june2o, lyio 'The Tatler 
 
 empire of the world, to sue for peace in the most abject 
 and servile manner ; when faction at home detracted from 
 the glory of his actions, and after many artifices, at last 
 prevailed with the Senate to recall him from the midst of 
 his victories, and in the very instant when he was to reap 
 the benefit of all his toils, by reducing the then common 
 enemy of all nations which had liberty to reason. When 
 Hannibal heard the message of the Carthaginian senators 
 who were sent to recall him, he was moved with a generous 
 and disdainful sorrow, and is reported to have said, 
 ' Hannibal then must be conquered not by the arms of the 
 Romans, whom he has often put to flight, but by the 
 envy and detraction of his countrymen. Nor shall Scipio 
 triumph so much in his fall as Hanno, who will smile to 
 have purchased the ruin of Hannibal, though attended 
 with the fall of Carthage." 
 
 " I am, Sir, &c. 
 
 " Pasquin." 
 
 WiWs Coffee-house, June 19. 
 
 ' I ''here is a sensible satisfaction in observing the counten- 
 -■' ance and action of the people on some occasions. To 
 gratify myself in this pleasure, I came hither with all speed 
 this evening with an account of the surrender of Douay. 
 As soon as the battle-critics^ heard it, they immediately 
 drew some comfort, in that it must have cost us a great 
 deal of men. Others were so negligent of the glory of 
 their country, that they went on in their discourse on the 
 
 ^ The conclusion of Pasquin's letter alludes to the following alle- 
 gorical piece, the publication of which was just then recent : " The 
 History of Hannibal and Hanno, &c., collected from the best authors, 
 by A. M., Esq." It is reprinted in "The Life and Posthumous 
 Writings" of Arthur Maynwaring, 17 1 5. See No. 190. 
 
 => See No. 65. 
 
 379 
 
T'he T'atler No. iSS. June 22, 1710 
 
 full house which is to be at " Othello " on Thursday, and 
 the curiosity they should go with to see Wilks play a part 
 so very different from what he had ever before appeared 
 in, together with the expectation that was raised in the gay 
 part of the town on that occasion. 
 
 This universal indolence and inattention among us to 
 things that concern the public, made me look back with 
 the highest reverence on the glorious instances in antiquity, 
 of a contrary behaviour in the like circumstances. Harry 
 English, upon observing the room so little roused on the 
 news, fell into the same way of thinking. " How un- 
 like," said he, " Mr. BickerstafF, are we to the old 
 Romans ! There was not a subject of their State but 
 thought himself as much concerned in the honour of his 
 country, as the first officer of the commonwealth. How 
 do I admire the messenger, who ran with a thorn in his 
 foot to tell the news of a victory to the Senate ! He had 
 not leisure for his private pain, till he had expressed his 
 public joy ; nor could he suffer as a man, till he had 
 triumphed as a Roman." 
 
 No. 188. [Steele. 
 
 From Tuesday, June 20, to Thursday, June 11, 17 10. 
 
 QusE regio in terris nostri non plena laboris ? 
 
 ViRG., ^n. i. 460. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 21. 
 
 I was this morning looking over my letters that I have 
 lately received from my several correspondents ; some 
 of which referring to my late papers, I have laid aside, 
 with an intent to give my reader a sight of them. The 
 first criticises upon my greenhouse, and is as follows : 
 
 380 
 
No. i88. june22, lyio T'he T'utler 
 
 "Mr. Bicker staff, "South Wales, June 7. 
 
 " 'Tphis letter comes to you from my orangery, which I 
 ■^ intend to reform as much as I can, according to 
 your ingenious model, and shall only beg of you to com- 
 municate to me your secret of preserving grass-plots in a 
 covered room ; 1 for in the climate where my country-seat 
 lies, they require rain and dews as well as sun and fresh 
 air, and cannot live upon such fine food as your ' sifted 
 weather.' I must likewise desire you to write over your 
 greenhouse the following motto : 
 
 " Hie ver perpetuum, atque alienis mensibus eestas. 
 instead of your 
 
 " O / qui me gelidis sub montibus Hami 
 Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra ! ^ 
 
 which, under favour, is the panting of one in summer 
 after cool shades, and not of one in winter after a summer- 
 house. The rest of your plan is very beautiful ; and that 
 your friend who has so well described it may enjoy it 
 many winters, is the hearty wish of 
 
 " His and your Unknown," &c. 
 
 This oversight of a grass-plot in my friend's green- 
 house, puts me in mind of a like inconsistency in a 
 celebrated picture, where Moses is represented as striking 
 a rock, and the Children of Israel quenching their thirst at 
 the waters that flow from it, and run through a beautiful 
 landscape of groves and meadows, which could not flourish 
 in a place where water was to have been found only by a 
 miracle. 
 1 See No 179. ' Virgil, " Georg." ii. 488 (" In vallibus Hjemi "). 
 
 381 
 
'T'he Trailer No. i88. june22, 1710 
 
 The next letter comes to me from a Kentish yeoman, 
 who is very angry with me for my advice to parents, 
 occasioned by the amours of Sylvia and Philander, as 
 related in my paper. No. 185: 
 
 "Squire Bickerstaff, 
 
 " T don't know by what chance one of your Tatlers is 
 -'■ got into my family, and has almost turned the brains 
 of my eldest daughter Winifred, who has been so unduti- 
 ful as to fall in love of her own head, and tells me a foolish 
 heathen story that she has read in your paper to persuade 
 me to give my consent. I am too wise to let children 
 have their own wills in a business like marriage. It is a 
 matter in which neither I myself, nor any of my kindred, 
 were ever humoured. My wife and I never pretended to 
 love one another like your Sylvias and Philanders ; and 
 yet if you saw our fireside, you would be satisfied we are 
 not always a-squabbling. For my part, I think that where 
 man and woman come together by their own good liking, 
 there is so much fondling and fooling, that it hinders 
 young people from minding their business. I must there- 
 fore desire you to change your note, and instead of advising 
 us old folks, who perhaps have more wit than yourself, to 
 let Sylvia know, that she ought to act like a dutiful 
 daughter, and marry the man that she does not care for. 
 Our great-grandmothers were all bid to marry first, and 
 love would come afterwards ; and I don't see why their 
 daughters should follow their own inventions. I am 
 resolved Winifred shan't. 
 
 " Yours," &c. 
 
 This letter is a natural picture of ordinary contracts, 
 and of the sentiments of those minds that lie under a kind 
 of intellectual rusticity. This trifling occasion made me 
 
 38Z 
 
No. i88. june22, lyio 'The Tutler 
 
 run over in my imagination the many scenes I have 
 observed of the married condition, wherein the quintessence 
 of pleasure and pain are represented as they accompany 
 that state, and no other. It is certain, there are a thousand 
 thousand like the above-mentioned yeoman and his wife, 
 who are never highly pleased or distasted in their whole 
 lives : but when we consider the more informed part of 
 mankind, and look upon their behaviour, it then appears 
 that very little of their time is indifferent, but generally 
 spent in the most anxious vexation, or the highest satis- 
 faction. Shakespeare has admirably represented both the 
 aspects of this state in the most excellent tragedy of 
 "Othello." In the character of Desdemona, he runs 
 through all the sentiments of a virtuous maid and a 
 tender wife. She is captivated by his virtue, and faithful 
 to him, as well from that motive, as regard to her own 
 honour. Othello is a great and noble spirit, misled by 
 the villany of a false friend to suspect her innocence, and 
 resents it accordingly. When after the many instances of 
 passion the wife is told her husband is jealous, her sim- 
 plicity makes her incapable of believing it, and say, after 
 such circumstances as would drive another woman into 
 distraction, 
 
 " / think the sun where he was born 
 Drew all such humours from him."^ 
 
 This opinion of him is so just, that his noble and tender 
 heart beats itself to pieces before he can affront her with 
 the mention of his jealousy ; and owns, this suspicion has 
 blotted out all the sense of glory and happiness which 
 before it was possessed with, when he laments himself in 
 the warm allusions of a mind accustomed to entertainments 
 so very different from the pangs of jealousy and revenge. 
 How moving is his sorrow, when he cries out as follows : 
 ' " Othello," act iii. sc. 4. 
 383 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. iss. june22, 1710 
 
 " / had been happy, if the general camp. 
 Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body. 
 So I had nothing knomn. Oh now 1 for ever 
 Farewell the tranquil mind'. Farewell content. 
 Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars. 
 That make ambition virtue t Oh farewell! 
 Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump. 
 The spirit-stirring drum, th^ ear-piercing fife. 
 The royal banner, and all quality. 
 Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war I 
 And oh ye mortal engines ! whose rude throats 
 The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit. 
 Farewell ! Othello's occupatioiis gone." ' 
 
 I believe I may venture to say, there is not in any other 
 part of Shakespeare's works more strong and lively pictures 
 of nature than in this. I shall therefore steal incog, to see 
 it, out of curiosity to observe how Wilks and Cibber 
 touch those places where Betterton' and Sandford' so very 
 highly excelled. But now I am got into a discourse of 
 acting, with which I am so professedly pleased, I shall 
 conclude this paper with a note I have just received from 
 the two ingenious friends, Mr. Penkethman' and Mr. 
 Bullock: " 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " TT^inding by your paper. No. 182, that you are drawing 
 *■ parallels between the greatest actors of the age ; as 
 you have already begun with Mr, Wilks and Mr. Cibber, 
 we desire you would do the same justice to your humble 
 Servants, 
 
 " William Bullock, and 
 
 "William Penkethman." 
 
 ^ "Othello,'' act iii. so. 3. ' See Nos. i, 71, 157, 167. 
 ' See No. 134. * See No. 4. » See No. 7. 
 
 38+ 
 
No. 189. June 24, 17 10 The TutUr 
 
 For the information of posterity, I shall comply with 
 this letter, and set these two great men in such a light as 
 Sallust has placed his Cato and Caesar. 
 
 Mr. William Bullock and Mr. William Penkethman 
 are of the same age, profession, and sex. They both dis- 
 tinguish themselves in a very particular manner under the 
 discipline of the crabtree, with this only difference, that 
 Mr. Bullock has the most agreeable squawl, and Mr. Pen- 
 kethman the more graceful shrug. Penkethman devours 
 a cold chicken with great applause ; Bullock's talent lies 
 chiefly in asparagus. Penkethman is very dexterous at 
 conveying himself under a table ; Bullock is no less active 
 at jumping over a stick. Mr. Penkethman has a great 
 dead of money, but Mr. Bullock is the taller man. 
 
 No. 189. [Steele. 
 
 From 'Thursday y June 22, to Saturday, June 24, 17 10. 
 
 Est in juvencis, est in equis patrum 
 Virtus ; neque imbellem feroces 
 Progenerant aquilx columbam. 
 
 HoR., 4 Od. iv. 30. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 23. 
 
 Having lately turned my thoughts upon the considera- 
 tion of the behaviour of parents to children in the 
 great affair of marriage,^ I took much delight in turning 
 over a bundle of letters which a gentleman's steward in the 
 country had sent me some time ago. This parcel is a 
 collection of letters written by the children of the family 
 to which he belongs to their father, and contain all the 
 little passages of their lives, and the new ideas they received 
 
 1 See No, 185. 
 
 VOL. III. 385 * ^ 
 
I'he T'atler No. 189. June 24, 17 lo 
 
 as their years advanced. There is in them an account of 
 their diversions as well as their exercises ; and what I 
 thought very remarkable, is, that two sons of the family, 
 who now make considerable figures in the world, gave 
 omens of that sort of character which they now bear, in 
 the first rudiments of thought which they show in their 
 letters. Were one to point out a method of education, 
 one could not, methinks, frame one more pleasing or 
 improving than this ; where the children get a habit of 
 communicating their thoughts and inclinations to their 
 best friend with so much freedom, that he can form 
 schemes for their future life and conduct from an observa- 
 tion of their tempers, and by that means be early enough 
 in choosing their way of life, to make them forward in 
 some art or science at an age when others have not deter- 
 mined what profession to follow. As to the persons con-r 
 cerned in this packet I am speaking of, they have given 
 great proofs of the force of this conduct of their father 
 in the eflFect it has had upon their lives and manners. 
 The elder, who is a scholar, showed from his infancy a 
 propensity to polite studies, and has made a suitable pro- 
 gress in literature ; but his learning is so well woven into 
 his mind, that from the impressions of it, he seems rather 
 to have contracted a habit of life, than manner of discourse. 
 To his books he seems to owe a good economy in his 
 affairs, and a complacency in his manners, though in others 
 that way of education has commonly a quite different 
 eflFect. The epistles of the other son are full of acqounts 
 of what he thought most remarkable in his reading. He 
 sends his father for news the last noble story he had read. 
 I observe, he is particularly touched with the conduct of 
 Codrus, who plotted his own death, because the oracle had 
 said, if he were not killed, the enemy should prevail over 
 his country. Many other incidents in his little letters 
 
 386 
 
No. 189. June 24, 17 10 I'he 'Tatlcr 
 
 give omens of a soul capable of generous undertakings ; 
 and what makes it the more particular is, that this gentle- 
 man had, in the present war, the honour and happiness of 
 doing an action for which only it was worth coming into 
 the world. Their father is the most intimate friend they 
 have, and they always consult him rather than any other, 
 when any error has happened in their conduct through 
 youth and inadvertency. The behaviour of this gentleman 
 to his sons has made his life pass away with the pleasures 
 of a second youth ; for as the vexations which men receive 
 from their children hasten the approach of age and double 
 the force of years ; so the comforts which they reap from 
 them are balm to aU other sorrows, and disappoint the 
 injuries of time. Parents of children repeat their lives in 
 their offspring, and their concern for them is so near, that 
 they feel all their sufferings and enjoyments as much as if 
 they regarded their own proper persons. But it is gene- 
 rally so far otherwise, that the common race of squires in 
 this kingdom use their sons as persons that are waiting 
 only for their funerals, and spies upon their health and 
 happiness ; as indeed they are by their own making them 
 such. In cases where a man takes the liberty after this 
 manner to reprehend others, it is commonly said, "Let him 
 look at home." I am sorry to own it ; but there is one 
 branch of the house of the Bickerstaffs, who have been as 
 erroneous in their conduct this way as any other family 
 whatsoever. The head of this branch is now in town, and 
 has brought up with him his son and daughter (who are 
 all the children he has) in order to be put some way into 
 the world, and see fashions. They are both very ill-bred 
 cubs, and having lived together from their infancy without 
 knowledge of the distinctions and decencies that are proper 
 to be paid to each other's sex, they squabble like two 
 brothers. The father is one of those who knows no better 
 
 387 
 
I'he Tatler No. 189. June 24, 1 710 
 
 than that all pleasure is debauchery, and imagines, when 
 he sees a man become his estate, that he will certainly 
 spend it. This branch are a people who never had among 
 them one man eminent either for good or ill ; however, 
 have all along kept their heads just above water, not by a 
 prudent and regular economy, but by expedients in the 
 matches they have made into their house. When one of 
 the family has, in the pursuit of foxes, and in the enter- 
 tainment of clowns, run out the third part of the value of 
 his estate, such a spendthrift has dressed up his eldest son, 
 and married what they call a good fortune, who has sup- 
 ported the father as a tyrant over them, during his life, in 
 the same house or neighbourhood. The son in succession 
 has just taken the same method to keep up his dignity, 
 till the mortgages he has ate and drank himself into, 
 have reduced him to the necessity of sacrificing his son 
 also, in imitation of his progenitor. This had been for 
 many generations the whole that had happened in the 
 family of Sam. BickerstafF, till the time of my present 
 cousin Samuel, the father of the young people we have just 
 now spoken of. 
 
 Samuel BickerstafF, Esq., is so happy, as that by several 
 legacies from distant relations, deaths of maiden sisters, 
 and other instances of good fortune, he has, besides his 
 real estate, a great sum of ready money. His son at the 
 same time knows he has a good fortune, which the father 
 cannot alienate, though he strives to make him believe 
 he depends only on his will for maintenance. Tom is 
 now in his nineteenth year, Mrs. Mary in her fifteenth. 
 Cousin Samuel, who understands no one point of good 
 behaviour as it regards all the rest of the world, is an 
 exact critic in the dress, the motion, the looks and gestures 
 of his children. What adds to their misery is, that he is 
 excessively fond of them, and the greatest part of their 
 
 388 
 
No. 189. June 24, 17 10 I'he 'Tatler 
 
 time is spent in the presence of this nice observer. Their 
 life is one continued constraint. The girl never turns her 
 head, but she is warned not to follow the proud minxes 
 of the town. The boy is not to turn fop, or be quarrel- 
 some ; at the same time not to take an affront. I had 
 the good fortune to dine with him to-day, and heard his 
 fatherly table-talk as we sat at dinner, which, if my 
 memory does not fail me, for the benefit of the world, I 
 shall set down as he spoke it, which was much as follows, 
 and may be of great use to those parents who seem to 
 make it a rule, that their children's turn to enjoy the 
 world is not to commence till they themselves have 
 left it. 
 
 " Now, Tom, I have bought you chambers in the Inns 
 of Court. I allow you to take a walk once or twice a day 
 round the garden. If you mind your business, you need 
 not study to be as great a lawyer as Coke upon Littleton. 
 I have that that will keep you ; but be sure you keep an 
 exact account of your linen. Write down what you give 
 out to your laundress, and what she brings home again. 
 Go as little as possible to the other end of the town ; but 
 if you do, come home early. I believe I was as sharp as 
 you for your years, and I had my hat snatched off my head 
 coming home late at a shop by St. Clement's Church, and 
 I don't know from that day to this who took it. I do not 
 care if you learn to fence a little, for I would not have you 
 be made a fool of. Let me have an account of everything 
 every post ; I am willing to be at that charge, and I think 
 you need not spare your pains. As for you, daughter 
 Molly, don't mind one word that is said to you in London, 
 for it is only for your money."' 
 
 ' It has been suggested that the latter part of this paper may refer 
 to Dr. Gilbert Budgell and his son Eustace, Addison's cousin. (See 
 
 389 
 
A he T. atler No. 190. june27, 1710 
 
 No. 190. [Steele. 
 From Saturday, June 24, to 'Tuesday, June i-j, 1710. 
 Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. — Virc, ^n. ii. 49. 
 
 Sheer Lane, June 26. 
 
 There are some occasions in life, wherein regards to a 
 man's self is the most pitiful and contemptible of all 
 passions ; and such a time certainly is when the true public 
 spirit of a nation is run into a faction against their friends 
 and benefactors. I have hinted heretofore some things 
 which discover the real sorrow I am in at the observation, 
 that it is now very much so in Great Britain, and have had 
 the honour to be pelted with several epistles to expostulate 
 with me on that subject ; ' among others, one from a 
 person of the number of those they call Quakers, who 
 seems to admonish me out of pure zeal and goodwill. 
 But as there is no character so unjust as that of talking in 
 party upon all occasions, without respect to merit or worth 
 on the contrary side, so there is no part we can act so 
 justifiable as to speak our mind when we see things urged 
 to extremity, against all that is praiseworthy or valuable in 
 life, upon general and groundless suggestions. But if I have 
 talked too frankly upon such reflections, my correspondent 
 has laid before me, after his way, the error of it in a 
 
 " Grand Magazine," i. 391, seq. ; and Gibber's "Lives of the Poets," 
 vol. V.) On the death of his father in 171 1, Eustace Budgell came 
 into possession of an estate of £,()^o a year. 
 
 ' Swift may have been among those who protested at the intro- 
 duction of politics into the Tatler (see No. 187), and Nichols 
 thought that he was the writer of the letter signed " Aminadab " in 
 this number. In June 17 10, the fall of the Whigs was rapidly- 
 approaching. 
 
 390 
 
No. I90. june27, lyio T^he 'Tatlcr 
 
 manner that makes me indeed thankful for his kindness, 
 but the more inclinable to repeat the imprudence from the 
 necessity of the circumstance : 
 
 " The 23rd of the 6th month, 
 " Friend Isaac, which is the month June. 
 
 " l^o*"*^'""'^^ as I love thee, I cannot any longer refrain 
 -■■ declaring my mind unto thee concerning soma, 
 things. Thou didst thyself indite the epistle inserted in 
 one of thy late Lucubrations, as thou wouldst have us call 
 them : for verily thy friend of stone,' and I speak accord- 
 ing to knowledge, hath no fingers ; and though he hath a 
 mouth, yet speaketh he not therewith ; nor yet did that 
 epistle at all come unto thee from the mansion-house of 
 the Scarlet Whore. It is plain therefore, that the truth is 
 not in thee : but since thou wouldst lie, couldst thou not 
 lie with more discretion ? Wherefore shouldst thou insult 
 over the afflicted, or add sorrow unto the heavy of heart ? 
 Truly this gall proceedeth not from the spirit of meekness. 
 I tell thee moreover, the people of this land be marvel- 
 lously given to change ; insomuch that it may likely come 
 to pass, that before thou art many years nearer to thy dis- 
 solution, thou mayest behold him sitting on a high place 
 whom thou now laughest to scorn : and then how wilt 
 thou be glad to humble thyself to the ground, and lick the 
 dust of his feet, that thou mayest find favour in his sight ? 
 If thou didst meditate as much upon the Word as thou 
 dost upon the profane scribblings of the wise ones of this 
 generation, thou wouldst have remembered what happened 
 unto Shimei, the son of Gera the Benjamite, who cursed 
 the good man David in his distress." David pardoned his 
 transgression, yet was he afterwards taken as in a snare by 
 the words of his own mouth, and fell by the sword of 
 1 Pasquin. See Nos. 129, 130, 187. ^2 Sam. xvi. 13. 
 
 39' 
 
I'he 'Tatler No. 190. June27, 1710 
 
 Solomon the chief ruler. Furthermore, I do not re- 
 member to have heard in the days of my youth and vanity, 
 when, like thine, my conversation was with the Gentiles, 
 that the men of Rome, which is Babylon, ever sued unto 
 the men of Carthage for tranquillity, as thou dost aver : 
 neither was Hannibal, the son of Hamilcar, called home by 
 his countrymen, till these saw the sword of their enemies 
 at their gates ; and then was it not time for him, thinkest 
 thou, to return ? It appeareth therefore that thou dost 
 prophecy backwards ; thou dost row one way, and look 
 another ; and indeed in all things art thou too much a 
 time-server ; yet seemest thou not to consider what a day 
 may bring forth. Think of this, and take tobacco. 
 
 " Thy Friend, 
 
 " Aminadab." 
 
 If the zealous writer of the above letter has any mean- 
 ing, it is of too high a nature to be the subject of my 
 Lucubrations. I shall therefore waive such high points, 
 and be as useful as I can to persons of less moment than 
 any he hints at. When a man runs into a little fame in 
 the world, as he meets with a great deal of reproach which 
 he does not deserve, so does he also a great deal of esteem 
 to which he has in himself no pretensions. Were it 
 otherwise, I am sure no one would offer to put a law case 
 to me : but because I am an adept in physic and astrology, 
 they will needs persuade me that I am no less a proficient in 
 all other sciences. However, the point mentioned in the 
 following letter is so plain a one, that I think I need not 
 trouble myself to cast a figure to be able to discuss it. 
 
 * I Kings ii. 36. 
 
 392 
 
No. I90. june27, lyio T'kc 'Tatler 
 
 "Mr. Bickerstaff, 
 
 " Tt is some years ago since the entail of the estate of our 
 -■■ family was altered, by passing a fine in favour of me 
 (who now am in possession of it) after some others 
 deceased. The heirs-general, who live beyond sea, were 
 excluded by this settlement, and the whole estate is to 
 pass in a new channel after me and my heirs. But several 
 tenants of the lordship persuade me to let them hereafter 
 hold their lands of me according to the old customs of the 
 barony, and not oblige them to act by the limitations of 
 the last settlement. This, they say, will make me more 
 popular among my dependants, and the ancient vassals of 
 the estate, to whom any deviation from the line of succes- 
 sion is always invidious. 
 
 " Yours," &c, 
 
 "Sir, " Sheer Lane, June 24. 
 
 " "^"ou have by the fine a plain right, in which none else 
 * of your family can be your competitor ; for which 
 reason, by all means demand vassalage upon that title. 
 The contrary advice can be given for no other purpose in 
 nature but to betray you, and favour other pretenders, by 
 making you place a right which is in you only, upon a 
 level with a right which you have in common with others. 
 I am, 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Your most faithful 
 
 " Servant till death, 
 
 "I. B." 
 
 There is nothing so dangerous or so pleasing, as com- 
 pliments made to us by our enemies : and my corre- 
 
 393 
 
'The Tatler No. 190. June 27,1710 
 
 spondent tells me, that though he knows several of those 
 who give him this counsel were at first against passing the 
 fine in favour of him ; yet is he so touched with their 
 homage to him, that he can hardly believe they have a 
 mind to set it aside, in order to introduce the heirs-general 
 into his estate. 
 
 These are great evils ; but since there is no proceeding 
 with success in this world, without complying with the 
 arts of it, I shall use the same method as my corre- 
 spondent's tenants did with him, in relation to one whom I 
 never had a kindness for ; but shall, notwithstanding, 
 presume to give him my advice. 
 
 " Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., of Great Britain, to 
 Lewis XIV. of France. 
 "Sir, 
 
 " "VTour Majesty will pardon me while I take the liberty 
 * to acquaint you, that some passages written from 
 your side of the water do very much obstruct your 
 interests. We take it very unkindly that the prints of 
 Paris are so very partial in favour of one set of men 
 among us, and treat the others as irreconcilable to your 
 interests. Your writers are very large in recounting any- 
 thing which relates to the figure and power of one party, 
 but are dumb when they should represent the actions of 
 the other. This is a trifling circumstance many here are 
 apt to lay some stress upon ; therefore I thought fit to 
 offer it to your consideration before you despatch the next 
 courier. 
 
 "I. B."i 
 
 ^ " The Tories happen now to have other work upon their hands, 
 and are not at leisure to return the civilities that are paid them ; how- 
 ever, having had the honour of a letter from the King of France . . . 
 they have sent in their answer to me, and desire me to forward it ; but 
 I am at a loss how to do this, unless my brother the Tatler viiW convey 
 
 39+ 
 
No. 191. June 29, 17 10 I'he l^atUr 
 
 No. 191. [Steele. 
 From Tuesday, June 27, to Thursday, June 29, 17 10. 
 Propter vitam vivendi perdere causas. — Juv., Sat. viii. 84. 
 
 From my own A-partment, June 28. 
 r\i all the evils under the sun, that of making vice com- 
 ^^ mendable is the greatest : for it seems to be the 
 basis of society, that applause and contempt should be 
 always given to proper objects. But in this age we behold 
 things for which we ought to have an abhorrence, not 
 only received without disdain, but even valued as motives 
 of emulation. This is naturally the destruction of sim- 
 plicity of manners, openness of heart, and generosity of 
 temper. When one gives oneself the liberty to range, and 
 run over in one's thoughts the different geniuses of men 
 which one meets in the world, one cannot but observe, that 
 most of the indirection and artifice which is used among 
 men, does not proceed so much from a degeneracy in 
 Nature, as an affectation of appearing men of consequence 
 by such practices. By this means it is, that a cunning 
 man is so far from being ashamed of being esteemed such, 
 that he secretly rejoices in it. It has been a sort of maxim, 
 that the greatest art is to conceal art ; but I know not 
 how, among some people we meet with, their greatest 
 cunning is to appear cunning. There is Polypragmon' 
 makes it the whole business of his life to be thought a 
 
 it under his cover, for I protest I know no man in England but him 
 that holds a correspondence with his Christian Majesty" {Examiner^ 
 No. 2, August 10, 1710). 
 
 ' In reply to this suggestion that the character of Polypragmon was 
 meant for Harley, Steele said, in the Guardian, No. 53 : "I drew it as 
 the most odious image I could paint of ambition. . . . Whoever seeks 
 
 395 
 
I'he Tatler No. 191. June 29, 1710 
 
 cunning fellow, and thinks it a much greater character to 
 be terrible than agreeable. When it has once entered into 
 a man's head to have an ambition to be thought crafty, all 
 other evils are necessary consequences. To deceive is the 
 immediate endeavour of him who is proud of the capacity 
 of doing it. It is certain, Polypragmon does all the ill he 
 possibly can, but pretends to much more than he per- 
 forms. He is contented in his own thoughts, and hugs 
 himself in his closet, that though he is locked up there 
 and doing nothing, the world does not know but that he 
 is doing mischief. To favour this suspicion, he gives half- 
 looks and shrugs in his general behaviour, to give you to 
 understand that you don't know what he means. He is 
 also wonderfully adverbial in his expressions, and breaks 
 off with a "perhaps" and a nod of the head, upon matters of 
 the most indifferent nature. It is a mighty practice with 
 
 employment for his own private interest, vanity, or pride, and not for 
 the good of his prince and country, has his share in the picture of 
 Polypragmon ; and let this be the rule in examining that description, 
 and I believe the Examiner will find others to whom he would rather 
 ^ive a part of it, than to the person on whom I believe he bestows it, 
 because he thinks he is the most capable of having his vengeance on 
 me. ... I have not, like him, fixed odious images on persons, but 
 ■on vices." To this the Examiner (vol. iv. No. z) replied : " He 
 would insinuate, that Timon and Polypragmon are general characters, 
 and stand for a whole species, or, as he quaintly words it, for Knights 
 of the Shire. If this be true, why did he not before now silence the 
 industrious clamours of his party, who both in print and public conver- 
 sation applied those characters to persons of the first rank, though 
 without any regard to the rules of resemblance ? " The writer of 
 "Annotations on the Tatler," 17 lo, in the preface to the second part, 
 regretted that Steele had become a politician, and said, in allusion to 
 Steele's experiments in alchemy : " Turning statesman and drudging 
 for the Philosopher's Stone, are toils not altogether unlike each other ; 
 buffeting with fire, labouring in smoke, wearing out of lungs, and 
 tiring oneself with expectation, are misfortunes common to both these 
 projects ; 'tis converting real gold to dross, out of a prospect of con- 
 verting dross into real gold." 
 
 396 
 
No. igi. June29, lyio The Tutler 
 
 men of this genius to avoid frequent appearance in public, 
 and to be as mysterious as possible when they do come 
 into company. There is nothing to be done, according to 
 them, the common way ; and let the matter in hand be 
 what it will, it must be carried with an air of importance, 
 and transacted, if we may so speak, with an ostentatious 
 secrecy. These are your persons of long heads, who would 
 fain make the world believe their thoughts and ideas are 
 very much superior to their neighbours', and do not value 
 what these their neighbours think of them, provided they 
 do not reckon them fools. These have such a romantic 
 touch in business, that they hate to perform anything like 
 other men. Were it in their choice, they had rather bring 
 their purposes to bear by overreaching the persons they 
 deal with, than by a plain and simple manner. They 
 make difficulties for the honour of surmounting them. 
 Polypragmon is eternally busied after this manner, with no 
 other prospect, than that he is in hopes to be thought the 
 most cunning of all men, and fears the imputation of want 
 of understanding much more than that of the abuse of it. 
 But alas ! how contemptible is such an ambition, which is 
 the very reverse of all that is truly laudable, and the very 
 contradiction to the only means to a just reputation, sim- 
 plicity of manners ? Cunning can in no circumstance 
 imaginable be a quality worthy a man except in his own 
 defence, and merely to conceal himself from such as are 
 so ; and in such cases it is no longer craft, but wisdom. 
 The monstrous affectation of being thought artful im- 
 mediately kills all thoughts of humanity and goodness, 
 and gives men a sense of the soft affections and impulses 
 of the mind (which are imprinted in us for our mutual 
 advantage and succour) as of mere weaknesses and follies. 
 According to the men of cunning, you are to put off the 
 nature of a man as fast as you can, and acquire that of a 
 
 397 
 
The 'Tatler No. 191. june29, 1710 
 
 demon, as if it were a more eligible character to be a 
 powerful enemy than an able friend. But it ought to be 
 a mortification to men affected this way, that there wants 
 but little more than instinct to be considerable in it ; for 
 when a man has arrived at being very bad in his inclina- 
 tion, he has not much more to do, but to conceal himself, 
 and he may revenge, cheat, and deceive, without much 
 employment for understanding, and go on with great 
 cheerfidness with the high applause of being a prodigious 
 cunning fellow. But indeed, when we arrive at that pitch 
 of false taste, as not to think cunning a contemptible 
 quality, it is, methinks, a very great injustice that pick- 
 pockets are had in so little veneration, who must be 
 admirably well turned, not only for the theoretic, but also 
 the practical behaviour of cunning fellows. After all the 
 endeavour of this family of men whom we call cunning, 
 their whole work falls to pieces, if others will lay down all 
 esteem for such artifices, and treat it as an unmanly 
 quality, which they forbear to practise only because they 
 abhor it. When the spider is ranging in the different 
 apartments of his web, it is true that he only can weave so 
 fine a thread ; but it is in the power of the merest drone 
 that has wings to fly through and destroy it. 
 
 WilVs Coffee-house, June 28. 
 
 Though the taste of wit and pleasure is at present but 
 very low in this town, yet there are some that preserve 
 their relish undebauched with common impressions, and 
 can distinguish between reality and imposture. A gentle- 
 man was saying here this evening, that he would go to 
 the play to-morrow night to see heroism, as it has been 
 represented by some of our tragedians, represented in 
 burlesque. It seems, the play of " Alexander " is to be 
 then turned into ridicule for its bombast, and other false 
 
 398 
 
No. 191. June29, lyio I'he T'atUr 
 
 ornaments in the thought as well as the language.' The 
 bluster Alexander makes, is as much inconsistent with the 
 character of a hero, as the roughness of Cly tus is an instance 
 of the sincerity of a bold artless soldier. To be plain is 
 not to be rude, but rather inclines a man to civility and 
 deference ; not indeed to show it in the gestures of the 
 body, but in the sentiments of the mind. It is, among 
 other things, from the impertinent figures unskilful dra- 
 matists draw of the characters of men, that youth are 
 bewildered and prejudiced in their sense of the world, of 
 which they have no notions but what they draw from 
 books and such representations. Thus talk to a very 
 young man, let him be of never so good sense, and he 
 shall smile when you speak of sincerity in a courtier, good 
 sense in a soldier, or honesty in a politician. The reason 
 of this is, that you hardly see one play wherein each of 
 these ways of life is not drawn by hands that know nothing 
 of any one of them : and the truth is so far of the opposite 
 side to what they paint, that it is more impracticable to 
 live in esteem in Courts than anywhere else without sin- 
 cerity. Good sense is the great requisite in a soldier, and 
 honesty the only thing that can support a politician. 
 This way of thinking made the gentleman of whom I was 
 just now speaking say, he was glad any one had taken 
 upon him to depreciate such unnatural fustian as the 
 tragedy of "Alexander." The character of that prince 
 indeed was, that he was unequal, and given to intemper- 
 ance ; but in his sober moments, when he had warm in 
 his imagination the precepts of his great instructor, he was 
 a pattern of generous thoughts and dispositions, in opposi- 
 
 ' A burlesque of Lee's " Rival Queens ; or, the Death of Alexander 
 the Great," by Gibber, called "The Rival Queans; or, the Humours 
 of Alexander the Great," was acted at Drury Lane in 1 710, but not 
 printed until 17*9. 
 
 399 
 
T'he T'atler No. 192. juiy i, 1710 
 
 tion to the strongest desires which are incident to a youth 
 and conqueror. But instead of representing that hero in 
 the glorious character of generosity and chastity, in his 
 treatment of the beauteous family of Darius, he is drawn 
 all along as a monster of lust, or of cruelty ; as if the way 
 to raise him to the degree of a hero were to make his 
 character as little like that of a worthy man as possible. 
 Such rude and indigested draughts of things are the proper 
 objects of ridicule and contempt, and depreciating Alexander, 
 as we have him drawn, is the only way of restoring him to 
 what he was in himself. It is well contrived of the players 
 to let this part be followed by a true picture of life, in the 
 comedy called, " The Chances," ' wherein Don John and 
 Constantia are acted to the utmost perfection. There 
 need not be a greater instance of the force of action than 
 in many incidents of this play, where indifferent passages, 
 and such that conduce only to the tacking of the scenes 
 together, are enlivened with such an agreeable gesture and 
 behaviour, as apparently shows what a play might be, 
 though it is not wholly what a play should be. 
 
 No. 192. [Addison. 
 
 From Thursday, June 29, to Saturday^ July i, 17 10. 
 Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens. — Hok., 3 Od. ix. 24. 
 
 From my own Apartment, June 30. 
 
 Some years since I was engaged with a coachful of 
 friends to take a journey as far as the Land's End. 
 We were very well pleased with one another the first day, 
 every one endeavouring to recommend himself by his good 
 
 ' An adaptation of Beaumont and Fletcher's comedy, by the Duke 
 of Buckingham, 1682. 
 
 400 
 
No. 192. July i,i7io The Tathr 
 
 humour and complaisance to the rest of the company. 
 This good correspondence did not last long ; one of our 
 party was soured the very first evening by a plate of butter 
 which had not been melted to his mind, and which spoiled 
 his temper to such a degree, that he continued upon the 
 fret to the end of our journey. A second fell off from 
 his good humour the next morning, for no other reason 
 that I could imagine, but because I chanced to step into 
 the coach before him, and place myself on the shady side. 
 This however was but my own private guess, for he did 
 not mention a word of it, nor indeed of anything else, for 
 three days following. The rest of our company held out 
 very near half the way, when of a sudden Mr. Sprightly 
 fell asleep ; and instead of endeavouring to divert and 
 oblige us, as he had hitherto done, carried himself with an 
 unconcerned, careless, drowsy behaviour, till we came to 
 our last stage. There were three of us who still held 
 up our heads, and did all we could to make our journey 
 agreeable ; but, to my shame be it spoken, about three 
 miles on this side Exeter, I was taken with an unaccount- 
 able fit of sullenness, that hung upon me for above three- 
 score miles ; whether it were for want of respect, or from an 
 accidental tread upon my foot, or from a foolish maid's calling 
 me " The old gentleman," I cannot tell. In short, there 
 was but one who kept his good humour to the Land's End. 
 There was another coach that went along with us, in 
 which I likewise observed, that there were many secret 
 jealousies, heartburnings, and animosities : for when we 
 joined companies at night, I could not but take notice, 
 that the passengers neglected their own company, and 
 studied how to make themselves esteemed by us, who were 
 altogether strangers to them ; till at length they grew so 
 well acquainted with us, that they liked us as little as they 
 did one another. When I reflect upon this journey, I 
 
 VOL. III. 401 2C 
 
'The Tatler No. 192. juiy i, 1710 
 
 often fancy it to be a picture of human life, in respect to 
 the several friendships, contracts, and alliances that are 
 made and dissolved in the several periods of it. The most 
 delightful and most lasting engagements are generally 
 those which pass between man and woman ; and yet upon 
 what trifles are they weakened, or entirely broken ? Some- 
 times the parties fly asunder, even in the midst of court- 
 ship, and sometimes grow cool in the very honey month. 
 Some separate before the first child, and some after the 
 fifth ; others continue good till thirty, others till forty ; 
 while some few, whose souls are of a happier make, and 
 better fitted to one another, travel on together to the end 
 of their journey in a continual intercourse of kind ofiices 
 and mutual endearments. 
 
 When we therefore choose our companions for life, if 
 we hope to keep both them and ourselves in good humour 
 to the last stage of it, we must be extremely careful in the 
 choice we make, as well as in the conduct on our own 
 part. When the persons to whom we join ourselves can 
 stand an examination, and bear the scrutiny, when they 
 mend upon our acquaintance with them, and discover new 
 beauties the more we search into their characters, our love 
 will naturally rise in proportion to their perfections. 
 
 But because there are very few possessed of such accom- 
 plishments of body and mind, we ought to look after 
 those qualifications both in ourselves and others, which are 
 indispensably necessary towards this happy union, and 
 which are in the power of every one to acquire, or at least 
 to cultivate and improve. These, in my opinion, are 
 cheerfulness and constancy. A cheerful temper joined 
 with innocence will make beauty attractive, knowledge 
 delightful, and wit good-natured. It will lighten sickness, 
 poverty, and affliction ; convert ignorance into an amiable 
 simplicity, and render deformity itself agreeable. 
 
 40Z 
 
No. 192. Julyi.iyio I'he T'tttUv 
 
 Constancy is natural to persons of even tempers and 
 uniform dispositions, and may be acquired by those of the 
 greatest fickleness, violence, and passion, who consider 
 seriously the terms of union upon which they come to- 
 gether, the mutual interest in which they are engaged, with 
 all the motives that ought to incite their tenderness and 
 compassion towards those who have their dependence upon 
 them, and are embarked with them for life in the same 
 state of happiness or misery. Constancy, when it grows 
 in the mind upon considerations of this nature, becomes a 
 moral virtue, and a kind of good nature, that is not subject 
 to any change of health, age, fortune, or any of those 
 accidents which are apt to unsettle the best dispositions 
 that are founded rather in constitution than in reason. 
 Where such a constancy as this is wanting, the most in- 
 flamed passion may fall away into coldness and indifference, 
 and the most melting tenderness degenerate into hatred 
 and aversion. I shall conclude this paper with a story that 
 is very well known in the North of England. 
 
 About thirty years ago, a packet-boat that had several 
 passengers on board was cast away upon a rock, and in so 
 great danger ofsinking, that all whowere in it endeavoured to 
 save themselves as well as they could, though only those who 
 could swim well had a bare possibility of doing it. Among 
 the passengers there were two women of fashion, who 
 seeing themselves in such a disconsolate condition, begged 
 of their husbands not to leave them. One of them chose 
 rather to die with his wife than to forsake her ; the other, 
 though he was moved with the utmost compassion for his 
 wife, told her, that for the good of their children it was 
 better one of them should live, than both perish. By a 
 great piece of good luck, next to a miracle, when one of 
 our good men had taken the last and long farewell in order 
 to save himself, and the other held in his arms the person 
 
 403 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 192. juiy 1,1710 
 
 that was dearer to him than life, the ship was preserved. 
 It is with a secret sorrow and vexation of mind that I 
 must tell the sequel of the story, and let my reader know, 
 that this faithful pair who were ready to have died in each 
 other's arms, about three years after their escape, upon 
 some trifling disgust, grew to a coldness at first, and at 
 length fell out to such a degree, that they left one another 
 and parted for ever. The other couple lived together in 
 an uninterrupted friendship and felicity; and what was 
 remarkable, the husband whom the shipwreck had like to 
 have separated from his wife, died a few months after her, 
 not being able to survive the loss of her. 
 
 I must confess, there is something in the changeableness 
 and inconstancy of human nature, that very often both 
 dejects and terrifies me. Whatever I am at present, I 
 tremble to think what I may be. While I find this prin- 
 ciple in me, how can I assure myself that I shall be always 
 true to my God, my friend, or myself ? In short, without 
 constancy there is neither love, friendship, nor virtue in 
 the world. 
 
 4.0+ 
 
No. 193- July 4,17 lo The Tatler 
 
 No. 193. [Steele.' 
 
 From Saturday, July i, to Tuesday, July 4, 17 10. 
 
 Qui didicit, patrix quid debeat et quid amicis, 
 
 Quo sit amore parens, quo fiater amandus, et hospes . . . 
 
 Scribere^ persons scit convenientia cuique. 
 
 HoR., Ars Poet. 312. 
 
 fFill's Coffee-house, July 3. 
 
 I have of late received many epistles, wherein the writers 
 treat me as a mercenary person, for some late hints 
 concerning matters which they think I should not have 
 touched upon but for sordid considerations. It is appa- 
 rent, that my motive could not be of that kind ; for when 
 a man declares himself openly on one side, that party will 
 take no more notice of him, because he is sure ; and the 
 set of men whom he declares gainst, for the same reason 
 are violent against him. Thus it is folly in a plain- 
 dealer to expect, that either his friends will reward him, 
 or his enemies forgive him. For which reason, I thought 
 it was the shortest way to impartiality, to put myself 
 beyond further hopes or fears, by declaring myself, at a 
 time when the dispute is not about persons and parties, 
 but things and causes. To relieve myself from the vexa- 
 tion which naturally attends such reflections, I came hither 
 this evening to give my thoughts quite a new turn, and 
 converse with men of pleasure and wit, rather than those 
 of business and intrigue. I had hardly entered the room, 
 when I was accosted by Mr. Thomas Doggett, who desired 
 my favour in relation to the play which was to be acted 
 for his benefit on Thursday. He pleased me in saying it 
 
 1 The authorship of the greater part of this paper is uncertain ; see 
 note on next page. ' " Reddere " (Horace). 
 
 405 
 
T'he 'Tatler No. 193. juiy4, 171° 
 
 was "The Old Bachelor,"' in which comedy there is a 
 necessary circumstance observed by the author, which 
 most other poets either overlook or do not understand, 
 that is to say, the distinction of characters. It is very 
 ordinary with writers to indulge a certain modesty of 
 believing all men as witty as themselves, and making all 
 the persons of the play speak the sentiments of the author, 
 without any manner of respect to the age, fortune, or 
 quality of him that is on the stage. Ladies talk like 
 rakes, and footmen make similes : but this writer knows 
 men, which makes his plays reasonable entertainments, 
 while the scenes of most others are like the tunes between 
 the acts. They are perhaps agreeable sounds, but they 
 have no ideas affixed to them. Doggett thanked me for 
 my visit to him in the winter,* and, after his comical 
 manner, spoke his request with so arch a leer, that I 
 promised the droll I would speak to all my acquaintance 
 to be at his play. 
 
 Whatever the world may think of the actors, whether 
 it be that their parts have an effect on their lives, or what- 
 ever it is, you see a wonderful benevolence among them 
 towards the interests and necessities of each other. Doggett 
 therefore would not let me go, without delivering me a 
 letter from poor old Downes the prompter,' wherein that 
 
 1 See No. 9. 
 
 ^ See Nos. 120, 1 22. In the continuation of the Tatler which 
 Swift and Harrison conducted (No. 28, March 24, 1710-11) there is 
 this passage : " The person produced as mine in the playhouse, last 
 winter, did in no wise appertain to me. It was such a one, however, 
 as agreed well with the impression my writings had made, and served 
 the purpose I intended it for : which was to continue the awe and 
 reverence due to the character I was vested with, and at the same 
 time to let my enemies see how much I was the delight and favourite 
 of this town," &c. 
 
 ' This letter, in ridicule of Harley's newly formed Ministry, has been 
 attributed to the joint authorship of Anthony Henley (see No. 11) and 
 
 406 
 
No. 193- July 4,17 lo T'he T'atUr 
 
 retainer to the theatre desires my advice and assistance in 
 a matter of concern to him. I have sent him my private 
 opinion for his conduct ; but the stage and the State 
 affairs being so much canvassed by parties and factions, I 
 shall for some time hereafter take leave of subjects which 
 relate to either of them, and employ my care in considera- 
 tion of matters which regard that part of mankind who 
 live without interesting themselves with the troubles or 
 pleasures of either. However, for a mere notion of the 
 present posture of the stage, I shall give you the letter at 
 large as follows : 
 
 "Honoured Sir, "Ja/y 1,1710. 
 
 " TT'^-'^^^S ^y divers of your late papers, that you are a 
 ■*• friend to the profession of which I was many years 
 an unworthy member, I the rather make bold to crave 
 your advice, touching a proposal that has been lately made 
 me of coming into business, and the sub-administration of 
 stage affairs. I have, from my youth, been bred up behind 
 the curtain, and been a prompter from the time of the 
 
 Temple Stanyan. Harley is supposed to be the gentleman referred to 
 in the letter, and Downes, it has been suggested, is Thomas Osborne, 
 first Duke of Leeds. Steele expressly disavowed responsibility for the 
 letter from Downes the prompter. In No. 53 of the Guardian he 
 wrote : " Old Downes is a fine piece of raillery, of which I wish I had 
 been author. All I had to do in it, was to strike out what related to 
 a gentlewoman about the Queen, whom I thought a woman free from 
 ambition, and I did it out of regard to innocence." And in the Preface 
 to the Tatler, he said that this letter was by an unknown corre- 
 spondent. A writer in the Examiner (vol. iv. No. 2) mentions Old 
 Downes among the sufferers of figure under our author's satire. The 
 same writer, or another in the same paper, expresses himself in the 
 following words : " Steele broke his own maxim for trifles in which 
 his country had no manner of concern ; and by entering into party 
 disputes, violated the most solemn repeated promises and that perfect 
 neutrality he had engaged to maintain. As a proof that I did not 
 wrong him, he now openly takes upon himself Downes' letter, by 
 
 407 
 
The Tatler No. 193. juiy 4,1710 
 
 Restoration.! I have seen many changes, as well of scenes 
 as of actors, and have known men within my remembrance 
 arrive to the highest dignities of the theatre, who made 
 their entrance in the quality of mutes, joint-stools, flower- 
 pots, and tapestry hangings. It cannot be imknown to 
 the nobility and gentry, that a gentleman of the Inns of 
 Court, and a deep intriguer, had some time since worked 
 himself into the sole management and direction of the 
 theatre." Nor is it less notorious, that his restless ambi- 
 tion, and subtle machinations, did manifestly tend to the 
 extirpation of the good old British actors, and the intro- 
 duction of foreign pretenders ; such as harlequins, French 
 dancers, and Roman singers ; which, though they im- 
 poverished the proprietors, and imposed on the audience, 
 were for some time tolerated, by reason of his dexterous 
 insinuations, which prevailed upon a few deluded women, 
 especially the vizard masks, to believe that the stage was 
 in danger. But his schemes were soon exposed, and the 
 great ones that supported him withdrawing their favour, 
 he made his exit, and remained for a season in obscurity. 
 During this retreat the Machiavelian was not idle, but 
 
 wishing the raillery (as he calls it) were his own." In the " Essays 
 Divine, Moral, and Political " (1714), p. 42, Swift is made to say, "I 
 advised him [Steele] to the publishing that letter from Downes the 
 prompter, which was the beginning of his ruin, though I here declare 
 I did not write it." Forster (" Biographical Essays," 3rd ed.) con- 
 cludes that this fictitious letter was certainly by Mainwaring him- 
 self. In the "Journal to Stella" (Oct. 22, 1710), Swift vvrrote : " He 
 [Steele] has lost his place of Gazetteer, three hundred pounds a year, 
 for writing a Tatler, some months ago, against Mr. Harley, who gave it 
 him at first, and raised the salary from sixty to three hundred pounds." 
 See also Swift's " The Importance of the Guardian considered." 
 
 ! John Downes was prompter to " The Duke's Servants " until 
 1706. In 1708 he published his valuable "Roscius Anglicanus, or an 
 Historical Review of the Stage." 
 
 ^ Christopher Rich, who began life as an attorney. See Nos. 12, 99. 
 
 408 
 
No. 193- Juiy4.i7io The Tatler 
 
 secretly fomented divisions, and wrought over to his side 
 some of the inferior actors, reserving a trap-door to him- 
 self, to which only he had a key. This entrance secured, 
 this cunning person, to complete his company, bethought 
 himself of calling in the most eminent of strollers from 
 all parts of the kingdom. I have seen them all ranged 
 together behind the scenes ; but they are many of them 
 persons that never trod the stage before, and so very 
 awkward and ungainly, that it is impossible to believe the 
 audience will bear them. He was looking over his cata- 
 logue of plays, and indeed picked up a good tolerable set 
 of grave faces for counsellors, to appear in the famous 
 scene of ' Venice Preserved,' when the danger is over ; 
 but they being but mere outsides, and the actors having a 
 great mind to play ' The Tempest,' there is not a man of 
 them, when he is to perform anything above dumb show, 
 is capable of acting with a good grace so much as the part 
 of Trinculo. However, the master persists in his design, 
 and is fitting up the old ' storm ' ; but I am afraid he will 
 not be able to procure able sailors or experienced officers 
 for love or money. 
 
 " Besides all this, when he comes to cast the parts, there 
 is so great a confusion amongst them for want of proper 
 actors, that for my part I am wholly discouraged. The 
 play with which they design to open is, ' The Duke and 
 No Duke ' ;' and they are so put to it, that the master 
 himself is to act the conjurer, and they have no one for 
 the general but honest George Powell.' 
 
 " Now, sir, they being so much at a loss for the dramatis 
 persona, viz., the persons to enact, and the whole frame 
 of the house being designed to be altered, I desire your 
 opinion, whether you think it advisable for me to under- 
 take to prompt them ? For though I can clash swords 
 
 1 A farce by Nahum Tate, 1685. ^ See No. 3. 
 
 409 
 
 \6^'^ 
 
'The 'Tatler No. 193. juiy 4,1710 
 
 when they represent a battle, and have yet lungs enough 
 to huzza their victories, I question, if I should prompt 
 them right, whether they would act accordingly. I am 
 
 " Your Honour's most humble Servant, 
 
 "J. DOWNES, 
 
 " P.S. Sir, since I writ this, I am credibly informed, 
 that they design a new house in Lincoln's Inn Fields, near 
 the Popish chapel,^ to be ready by Michaelmas next ; 
 which indeed is but repairing an old one that has already 
 failed. You know the honest man who kept the office is 
 gone already." 
 
 * The theatre built by Betterton and his friends in 1695, in Portugal 
 Row, Lincoln's Inn Fields, was pulled down and rebuilt by Chris- 
 topher Rich in 17 14. The Roman Catholic Church here referred to 
 was in Duke (now Sardinia) Street, on the, west side of the square. 
 
 END OF VOL. III. 
 
 Printed by Ballahtvnb, Hansox &• Co. 
 London &> Edinburgh