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No. 2.]

THE SPECTATOR.

No one ever took him for a fool; bachelor by reason he was crossed in love | but not one case in the reports of our own by a perverse beautiful widow of the next courts. Before this disappoint- but none, except his intimate friends, know county to him. ment, sir Roger was what you call a fine he has a great deal of wit. This turn As few of his thoughts are gentleman, had often supped with my Lord makes him at once both disinterested and Rochester and sir George Etherege, fought agreeable. a duel upon his first coming to town, and drawn from business, they are most of them kicked bully Dawson* in a public coffee- fit for conversation. His taste for books house for calling him youngster. But be- is a little too just for the age he lives in; ing ill used by the abovementioned widow, he has read all, but approves of very few. he was very serious for a year and a half; His familiarity with the customs, manners, and though, his temper being naturally jo- actions and writings of the ancients, makes vial, he at last got over it, he grew careless him a very delicate observer of what ocof himself, and never dressed afterwards. curs to him in the present world. He is an He continues to wear a coat and doublet of excellent critic, and the time of the play the same cut that were in fashion at the is his hour of business; exactly at five he time of his repulse, which, in his merry passes through New-Inn, crosses through humours, he tells us, has been in and out Russel-court, and takes a turn at Will's twelve times since he first wore it. It is till the play begins; he has his shoes rubsaid Sir Roger grew humble in his desires bed and his periwig powdered at the barafter he had forgot his cruel beauty, inso-ber's as you go into the Rose. It is for much that it is reported he has frequently the good of the audience when he is at offended in point of chastity with beggars a play, for the actors have an ambition to and gypsies: but this is looked upon, by his please him. friends, rather as a matter of raillery than truth. He is now in his fifty-sixth year, cheerful, gay, and hearty; keeps a good house both in town and country; a great lover of mankind: but there is such a mirthful cast in his behaviour, that he is rather beloved than esteemed. His tenants grow rich, his servants look satisfied, all the young women profess love to him, and the young men are glad of his company. When he comes into a house, he calls the servants by their names, and talks all the way up stairs to a visit. I must not omit, that Sir Roger is a justice of the quorum; that he fills the chair at a quarter-sessions with great abilities, and three months ago gained universal applause, by explaining a passage in the game-act.

The gentleman next in esteem and au-
thority among us is another bachelor, who
is a member of the Inner Temple, a man
of great probity, wit and understanding;
but he has chosen his place of residence
rather to obey the direction of an old hu-
moursome father, than in pursuit of his
own inclinations. He was placed there to
study the laws of the land, and is the most
learned of any of the house in those of the
stage. Aristotle and Longinus are much
better understood by him than Littleton or
Coke. The father sends up every post
questions relating to marriage-articles,
leases and tenures, in the neighbourhood;
all which questions he agrees with an at-
torney to answer and take care of in the
lump. He is studying the passions them-
selves when he should be inquiring into the
men which arise from
debates among
them. He knows the argument of each of
the orations of Demosthenes and Tully,

*This fellow was a noted sharper, swaggerer, and
debauchee about town, at the time here pointed out;
he was well known in Blackfriars and its then infa.
mous purlieus.

The person of next consideration is Sir Andrew Freeport, a merchant of great eminence in the city of London; a person of indefatigable industry, strong reason, and great experience. His notions of trade are noble and generous, and (as every rich man has usually some sly way of jesting, which would make no great figure were he He is acquainted with comnot a rich man) he calls the sea the British Common. merce in all its parts, and will tell you that it is a stupid and barbarous way to extend dominion by arms; for true power is to be got by arts and industry. He will often argue, that if this part of our trade were well cultivated, we should gain from one have heard him prove, that diligence nation; and if another, from another. I He abounds in semakes more lasting acquisitions than valour, and that sloth has ruined more nations than the sword. veral frugal maxims, amongst which the greatest favourite is, A penny saved is a penny got.' A general trader of good sense is pleasanter company than a general scholar; and Sir Andrew having a natural unHe has made his affected eloquence, the perspicuity of his discourse gives the same pleasure that wit would in another man. fortune himself; and says that England may be richer than other kingdoms, by as plain methods as he himself is richer than other men; though at the same time I can say this of him, that there is not a point in the compass, but blows home a ship in which he is an owner.

Next to Sir Andrew in the club-room sits Captain Sentry, a gentleman of great courage, good understanding, but invinciserve very well but are very awkward at ble modesty. He is one of those that deputting their talents within the observation of such as should take notice of them. He was some years a captain, and behaved

men of his age will take notice to you what such a minister said upon such and such an occasion, he will tell you, when the duke of Monmouth danced at court, such a woman was then smitten, another was taken with him at the head of his troop in the Park. In all these important relations, he has ever about the same time received a kind glance, or a blow of a fan from some celebrated beauty, mother of the present lord Such-a-one. If you speak of a young commoner, that said a lively thing in the house, he starts up, 'He has good blood in his vein; Tom Mirable begot him; the rogue cheated me in that affair; that young fellow's mother used me more like a dog than any woman I ever made advances to.' This way of talking of his, very much enlivens the conversation amongst us of a more sedate turn; and I find there is not one of the company, but myself, who rarely speak at all, but speaks of him as of that sort of man, who is usually called a wellbred fine gentleman. To conclude his character, where women are not concerned, he is an honest worthy man.

himself with great gallantry in several en- | a word, all his conversation and knowledge gagements and at several sieges; but hav- has been in the female world. As other ing a small estate of his own, and being next heir to Sir Roger, he has quitted a way of life in which no man can rise suitably to nis merit, who is not something of a courtier as well as a soldier. I have heard him often lament, that in a profession where merit is placed in so conspicuous a view, impudence should get the better of modesty. When he has talked to this purpose, I never heard him make a sour expression, but frankly confess that he left the world, because he was not fit for it. A strict honesty and an even regular behaviour, are in themselves obstacles to him that must press through crowds who endeavour at the same end with himself, the favour of a commander. He will however in his way of talk excuse generals, for not disposing according to men's desert, or inquiring into it; for, says he, that great man who has a mind to help me, has as many to break through to come at me, as I have to come at him: therefore he will conclude, that the man who would make a figure, especially in a military way, must get over all false modesty, and assist his patron against the importunity of other pretenders, by a proper assurance in his own vindication. He says it is a civil cowardice to be backward in asserting what you ought to expect, as it is a military fear to be slow in attacking when it is your duty. With this candour does the gentleman speak of himself and others. The same frankness runs through all his conversation. The military part of his life has furnished him with many adventures, in the relation of which he is very agreeable to the company; for he is never overbearing, though accustomed to command men in the utmost degree below him; nor ever too obsequious, from a habit of obeying men highly above him.

But that our society may not appear a set of humourists, unacquainted with the gallantries and pleasures of the age, we have amongst us the gallant Will Honeycomb; a gentleman who, according to his years, should be in the decline of his life; but having ever been very careful of his perзon, and always had a very easy fortune, time has made but a very little impression, either by wrinkles on his forehead, or traces on his brain. His person is well turned, and of a good height. He is very ready at that sort of discourse with which men usually entertain women. He has all his life dressed very well, and remembers habits as others do men. He can smile when one speaks to him, and laughs easily. He knows the history of every mode, and can inform you from which of the French King's wenches, our wives and daughters nad this manner of curling their hair, that way of placing their hoods; whose frailty was covered by such a sort of petticoat, and whose vanity to show her foot made that part of the dress so short in such a year. In

I cannot tell whether I am to account him, whom I am next to speak of, as onc of our company; for he visits us but seldom, but when he does, it adds to every man else a new enjoyment of himself. He is a clergyman, a very philosophic man, of general learning, great sanctity of life, and the most exact good breeding. He has the misfortune to be of a very weak constitution, and consequently cannot accept of such cares and business as preferments in his function would oblige him to; he is therefore among divines what a chamber-counsellor is among lawyers. The probity of his mind, and the integrity of his life, create him followers, as being eloquent or loud advances others. He seldom introduces the subject he speaks upon; but we are so far gone in years, that he observes when he is among us, an earnestness to have him fall on some divine topic, which he always treats with much authority, as one who has no interest in this world, as one who is hastening to the object of all his wishes, and conceives hope from his decays and infirmities. These are my ordinary companions. R.

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to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of that wealthy corporation, ranged in their several stations, according to the parts they act in that just and regular economy. This revived in my memory the many discourses which I had both read and heard, concerning the decay of public credit, with the methods of restoring it, and which in my opinion, have always been defective, because they have always been made with an eye to separate interests, and party principles.

The thoughts of the day gave my mind employment for the whole night, so that I fell insensibly into a kind of methodical dream, which disposed all my contemplations into a vision or allegory, or what else the reader shall please to call it.

letters from all parts of the world, which the one or the other of them was perpetually reading to her; and, according to the news she heard, to which she was exceedingly attentive, she changed colour, and discovered many symptoms of health or sickness.

Behind the throne was a prodigious heap of bags of money, which were piled upon one another so high that they touched the ceiling. The floor on her right hand, and on her left, was covered with vast sums of gold that rose up in pyramids on either side of her. But this I did not so much wonder at, when I heard upon inquiry, that she had the same virtue in her touch, which the poets tell us a Lydian king was formerly possessed of: and that she could convert whatever she pleased into that precious metal.

After a little dizziness, and confused hurry of thought, which a man often meets with in a dream, methought the hall was alarmed, the doors flew open and there entered half a dozen of the most hideous phantoms that I had ever seen (even in a dream) before that time. They came in two by two, though matched in the most dissociable manner, and mingled together in a kind of dance. It would be tedious to describe their habits and persons, for which reason I shall only inform my reader, that the first couple were Tyranny and Ánarchy, the second were Bigotry and Atheism, and the third the genius of a commonwealth, and a young man of about twenty-two years of age, whose name I could not learn. He had a sword in his right hand, which in the dance he often brandished at the Act of Settlement; and a citizen, who stood by me, whispered in my ear, that he saw a sponge in his left hand.† The dance of so many jarring natures put me in mind of the sun, moon, and earth, in the Rehearsal, that danced together for no other end but to eclipse one another.

Methought I returned to the great hall, where I had been the morning before, but to my surprise, instead of the company that I left there, I saw, towards the upper end of the hall, a beautiful virgin seated on a throne of gold. Her name (as they told me) was Public Credit. The walls, instead of being adorned with pictures and maps, were hung with many acts of parliament written in golden letters. At the upper end of the hall was the Magna Charta, with the Act of Uniformity on the right hand, and the Act of Toleration on the left. At the lower end of the hall was the Act of Settlement, which was placed full in the eye of the virgin that sat upon the throne. Both the sides of the hall were covered with such acts of parliament as had been made for the establishment of public funds. The lady seemed to set an unspeakable value upon these several pieces of furniture, insomuch that she often refreshed her eye with them, and often smiled with a secret pleasure, as she looked upon them; but, at the same time, showed a very particular uneasiness, if she saw any thing approaching that might hurt them. She appeared, indeed, infinitely timorous in all The reader will easily suppose, by what her behaviour: and whether it was from has been before said, that the lady on the the delicacy of her constitution, or that she throne would have been almost frighted to was troubled with vapours as I was after-distraction, had she seen but any one of wards told by one, who I found was none of her well-wishers, she changed colour, and startled at every thing she heard. She was likewise (as I afterwards found) a greater valetudinarian than any I had ever met with, even in her own sex, and subject to such momentary consumptions, that in the twinkling of an eye, she would fall away from the florid complexion, and most healthful state of body, and wither into a skeleton. Her recoveries were often as sudden as her decays, insomuch that she would revive in a moment out of a wasting distemper, into a habit of the highest health and vigour.

I had very soon an opportunity of observing these quick turns and changes in her constitution. There sat at her feet a couple of secretaries, who received every hour

these spectres; what then must have been
her condition when she saw them all in a
body? She fainted and died away at the
sight.

'Et neque jam color est misto candore rubori;
Nec vigor, et vires, et quæ modò visa placebant;
Nec corpus remanet-
Ovid, Met. iii. 49.

-Her spirits faint,
Her blooming cheeks assume a pallid teint,
And scarce her form remains.'

There was as great a change in the hill of money-bags, and the heaps of money; the former shrinking and falling into so many empty bags, that I now found not

June 10, 1688. See Tat. No. 187.

*James Stuart, the pretended Prince of Wales, born

To wipe out the national debt.

above a tenth part of them had been filled | in the world to fame, to be too anxious with money.

The rest, that took up the same space, and made the same figure, as the bags that were really filled with money, had been blown up with air, and called into my memory the bags full of wind, which Homer tells us his hero received as a present from Eolus. The great heaps of gold on either side of the throne, now appeared to be only heaps of paper, or little piles of notched sticks, bound up together in bundles, like Bath faggots.

about it) that upon the whole I resolved for the future to go on in my ordinary way; and without too much fear or hope about the business of reputation, to be very careful of the design of my actions, but very negligent of the consequences of them.

It is an endless and frivolous pursuit to act by any other rule, than the care of satisfying our own minds in what we do. One would think a silent man, who concerned himself with no one breathing, should be very little liable to misrepresentations; and Whilst I was lamenting this sudden desc- yet I remember I was once taken up for a lation that had been made before me, the jesuit, for no other reason but my profound whole scene vanished. In the room of the taciturnity. It is from this misfortune, that frightful spectres, there now entered a se- to be out of harm's way, I have ever since cond dance of apparitions, very agreeably affected crowds. He who comes into asmatched together, and made up of very semblies only to gratify his curiosity, and amiable phantoms. The first pair was Li-not to make a figure, enjoys the pleasures berty with Monarchy at her right hand; the second was Moderation, leading in Religion; and the third a person whom I had never seen, * with the Genius of Great Britain. At the first entrance the lady revived, the bags swelled to their former Dulk, the pile of faggots and heaps of paper changed into pyramids of guineas: and for my own part I was so transported with joy, that I awaked, though I must confess I fain would have fallen asleep again to have closed my vision, if I could have done it.

No. 4.] Monday, March 5, 1710-11.
-Egregii mortalem altique silenti?

Hor. L. 2. Sat. vi. 58.

One of uncommon silence and reserve.

An author, when he first appears in the world, is very apt to believe it has nothing to think of but his performances. With a good share of this vanity in my heart, I made it my business these three days to listen after my own fame; and as I have sometimes met with circumstances which did not displease me, I have been encountered by others, which gave me much mortification. It is incredible to think how empty I have in this time observed some part of the species to be, what mere blanks they are when they first come abroad in the morning, how utterly they are at a stand, until they are set a-going by some paragraph in a newspaper.

Such persons are very acceptable to a young author, for they desire no more in any thing but to be new, to be agreeable. If I found consolation among such, I was as much disquieted by the incapacity of others. These are mortals who have a certain curiosity without power of reflection, and perused my papers like spectators rather than readers. But there is so little pleasure in inquiries that so nearly concern ourselves, (it being the worst way

The Elector of Hanover, afterwards George L

of retirement in a more exquisite degree, than he possibly could in his closet; the lover, the ambitious, and the miser, are followed thither by a worse crowd than any they can withdraw from. To be exempt from the passions with which others are tormented, is the only pleasing solitude. I can very justly say with the ancient sage, I am never less alone than when alone.

As I am insignificant to the company in public places, and as it is visible I do not come thither as most do, to show myself, I gratify the vanity of all who pretend to make an appearance, and have often as kind looks from well-dressed gentlemen and ladies, as a poet would bestow upon one of his audience. There are so many gratifications attend this public sort of obscurity, that some little distastes I daily receive have lost their anguish; and I did the other day, without the least displeasure, overhear one say of me, that strange fellow!' and another answer, I have known the fellow's face these twelve years, and so must you; but I believe you are the first ever asked who he was. There are, I must confess, many to whom my person is as well known as that of their nearest relations, who give themselves no farther trouble about calling me by my name or quality, but speak of me very currently by the appellation of Mr. What-d'ye-call-him.

To make up for these trivial disadvantages, I have the highest satisfaction of beholding all nature with an unprejudiced eye; and having nothing to do with men's passions or interests, I can, with the greater sagacity, consider their talents, manners, failings, and merits.

It is remarkable, that those who want any one sense, possess the others with greater force and vivacity. Thus my want of, or rather resignation of speech, gives me all the advantages of a dumb man. I have, methinks, a more than ordinary penetration in seeing; and flatter myself that' I have looked into the highest and lowest of mankind, and made shrewd guesses, without being admitted to their co

rsa

No. 5.]

THE SPECTATOR.

tion, at the inmost thoughts and reflections perhaps raised in me uncommon reflecIt is from hence tions; but this effect I cannot communicate of all whom I behold. that good or ill fortune has no manner of but by my writings. As my pleasures are force towards affecting my judgment. I almost wholly confined to those of the sight, see men flourishing in courts and languish- I take it for a peculiar happiness that I ing in jails, without being prejudiced, from have always had an easy and familiar adtheir circumstances, to their favour or dis-mittance to the fair sex. If I never praised advantage; but from their inward manner or flattered, I never belied or contradicted of bearing their condition, often pity the them. As these compose half the world, and are, by the just complacence and galprosperous, and admire the unhappy. Those who converse with the dumb, lantry of our nation, the more powerful know from the turn of their eyes, and the part of our people, I shall dedicate a conchanges of their countenance, their senti- siderable share of these my speculations to ments of the objects before them. I have their service, and shall lead the young indulged my silence to such an extrava- through all the becoming duties of virgigance, that the few who are intimate with nity, marriage, and widowhood. When it me, answer my smiles with concurrent sen- is a woman's day, in my works, I shall entences, and argue to the very point I shaked deavour at a style and air suitable to their my head at, without my speaking. Will understanding. When I say this, I must Honeycomb was very entertaining the other be understood to mean, that I shall not night at a play, to a gentleman who sat on lower, but exalt the subjects I treat upon. his right hand, while I was at his left. The Discourse for their entertainment is not to gentleman believed Will was talking to be debased but refined. A man may aphimself, when upon my looking with great pear learned without talking sentences, as approbation at a young thing in a box be- in his ordinary gesture he discovers he can fore us, he said, 'I am quite of another dance, though he does not cut capers. In opinion. She has, I will allow, a very a word, I shall take it for the greatest glory pleasing aspect, but, methinks that sim- of my work, if among reasonable women plicity in her countenance is rather child- this paper may furnish tea-table talk. In ish than innocent.' When I observed her crder to it, I shall treat on matters which a second time, he said, 'I grant her dress relate to females, as they are concerned to is very becoming, but perhaps the merit of approach or fly from the other sex, or as that choice is owing to her mother; for they are tied to them by blood, interest or though,' continued he, 'I allow a beauty to affection. Upon this occasion I think it is be as much commended for the elegance but reasonable to declare, that whatever At the same of her dress, as a wit for that of his lan- skill I may have in speculation, I shall guage; yet if she has stolen the colour of never betray what the eyes of lovers say to her ribands from another, or had advice each other in my presence. about her trimmings; I shall not allow her time I shall not think myself obliged, by this the praise of dress, any more than I would promise, to conceal any false protestations call a plagiary an author.' When I threw which I observe made by glances in public my eye towards the next woman to her, assemblies; but endeavour to make both Will spoke what I looked, according to his sexes appear in their conduct what they romantic imagination, in the following man- are in their hearts. By this means, love, during the time of my speculations, shall 'Behold, you who dare, that charming be carried on with the same sincerity as virgin; behold the beauty of her person any other affair of less consideration. As chastised by the innocence of her thoughts. this is the greatest concern, men shall be Chastity, good-nature, and affability, are from henceforth liable to the greatest rethe graces that play in her countenance; proach for misbehaviour in it. Falsehood she knows she is handsome, but she knows in love shall hereafter bear a blacker asshe is good. Conscious beauty adorned with pect than infidelity in friendship, or villany conscious virtue! What a spirit is there in in business. For this great and good end, those eyes! What a bloom in that person! all breaches against that noble passion, the How is the whole woman expressed in her cement of society, shall be severely examappearance! Her air has the beauty of ined. But this, and other matters loosely motion, and her look the force of language.' hinted at now, and in my former papers, It was prudence to turn away my eyes shall have their proper place in my followfrom this object, and therefore I turned ing discourses. The present writing is only them to the thoughtless creatures who to admonish the world, that they shall not make up the lump of that sex, and move å find me an idle but a busy Spectator. R. knowing eye no more than the portraiture of insignificant people by ordinary painters, which are but pictures of pictures.

ner:

Thus the working of my own mind is the general entertainment of my life; I never enter into the commerce of discourse with any but my particular friends, and not in public even with them. Such a habit has

No. 5.] Tuesday, March 6, 1710-11.
Spectatum admissi risum teneatis?

Hor. Ars Poet. ver. 5.

V

Admitted to the sight, would you not laugh? AN opera may be allowed to be extravagantly lavish in its decorations, as its only

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