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rities proceed from his good sense, and are contradictions to the manners of the world, only as he thinks the world is in the wrong. However, this humour creates him no enemies, for he does nothing with sourness or obstinacy; and his being unconfined to modes and forms, makes him but the readier and more capable to please and oblige all who know him. When he is in town, he lives in Soho-square. It is said, he keeps himself a bachelor by reason he was crossed in love by a perverse beautiful widow of the next county to him. Before this disappointment, Sir Roger was what you call a fine gentleman, had often supped with my Lord Ro chester and Sir George Etherege, fought a duel upon his first coming to town, and kicked Bully Dawson' in a public coffeehouse for calling him youngster. But being ill used by the abovementioned widow, he was very serious for a year and a half; and though, his temper being naturally jovial, he at last got over it,
1 Sir Roger had doubtless chosen this fashionable locality in the “fine gentleman" era of his career. We shall presently see, that on his subsequent visits to town, he changed his lodgings to humbler neighbourhoods. The splendour of Soho Square was only dawning, when foreign princes were taken to see Bloomsbury Square as one of the wonders of England. In 1681, the former had no more than eight residences in it, and the palace of the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth filled up the entire south side. During Sir Roger's supposed residence in Soho (then also called King's) Square, he had for a neighbour Bishop Burnet. Only a few years later it lost caste; for by 1717 we find from Walpole's "Anecdotes of Painting" that Monmouth House had been converted into auction-rooms.
Sir Roger changed his residence at each subsequent visit to London. The "Spectator" in his 335th number lodges him in Norfolk Street, Strand, and in No. 410, in Bow Street, Covent Garden.-*
2 Dawson was a swaggering gentleman at large, when Etheridge and Rochester were in full vogue. One of the manuscript notes, by Oldys, upon the margins of the copy of Langbaine's account of the English Dramatic Poets in the British Museum, p. 450, mentions him thus:
"The character of Captain Hackman in this comedy [Shadwell's 'Squire of Alsatia'] was drawn, as I have been told, by old John Bowman the player, to expose Bully Dawson, a noted sharper, swaggerer and debauchee about town, especially in Blackfriars and its infam: us purlieus."
he grew careless of himself, and never dressed afterwards
continues to wear a coat and doublet of the same cut that were in fashion at the time of his repulse, which, in his merry humours, he tells us, has been in and out twelve times since he first wore it. 'Tis said Sir Roger grew humble in his desires after he had forgot this cruel beauty, insomuch that it is reported he has frequently offended in point of chastity with beggars and gypsies: but this is looked upon by his friends rather as 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-session with great abilities, and three months ago gained universal applause by explaining a passage in the game act.
The gentleman next in esteem and authority 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 humour some 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 that Littleton or Coke. father sends up every post questions relating to marriage-articles, leases, and tenures, in the neighbourhood; all which questions he agrees with an attorney to answer and take care of in the lump. He is studying the passions themselves, when he should be in quiring into the debates among men which arise from them. Ie
knews the argument of each of the orations of Demosthenes and Tully, out not one case in the reports of our own courts. No one ever took him for a fool; but none, except his intimate friends, know he has a great deal of wit. This turn makes him at once both disinterested and agreeable; as few of his thoughts are drawn from business, they are most of them fit for conversation. His taste of books is a little too just for the age he lives in; h has read all, but approves of very few. His familiarity with the customs, manners, actions, and writings of the ancients, makes him a very delicate observer of what occurs to him in the present world. He is an excellent critic, and the time of the play is his hour of business; exactly at five he passes through New-Inn, crosses through Russel-Court, and takes a turn at Will's till the play begins: he has his shoes rubbed and his perriwig powdered at the barber's as you go into the Rose.' It is for the good of the audience when he is at a play, for the actors have an ambition to please him.
The person of next consideration, is Sir Andrew Freeport,2 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
The Rose stood at the end of a passage in Russell Street, adjoining the theatre; which then, be it remembered, faced Drury Lane. It was here that on the 12th November, 1712, the seconds on either side arranged the duel fought the next day by the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun, in which both were killed
2 "To Sir Roger, who as a country gentleman appears to be a Tory or, as it is generally expressed, an adherent to the landed interest, is opposed to Sir Andrew Freeport, a new man and a wealthy merchant, zealous for the money'd interest, and a Whig. Of this contrariety of opinions more consequences were at first intended than could be produced when the resolution was taken to exclude party from the paper."-Dr. Johnson's Lafe of Addison.
No one has ventured to name originals either for the Templar or Sit Andrew Freeport -*
has usually some sly way of jesting, which would make no great figure were he not a rich man) he calls the sea the British Common. He is acquainted with commerce in all its parts, and will tell you 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 nation; and if another, from another. I have heard him prove, that diligence makes more lasting acquisitions than valour, and that sloth has ruined more nations than the sword. He abounds in several 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 ge neral scholar; and Sir Andrew having a natural unaffected eloquence, the perspicuity of his discourse gives the same pleasure that wit would in another man. He has made his fortunes him. self; 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
Next to Sir Andrew in the club-room sits Captain Sentry, a gentleman of great courage, and understanding, but invincible. modesty.' He is one of those that deserve very well, but are very aukward at putting their talents within the observation of such as should take notice of them. He was some years a captain, and behaved himself with great gallantry in several engage
1 This character, heir to Sir Roger, is said-with no more probability than attaches to the imagined origin of the others to have been copied from Col. Kempenfeldt, father of the Admiral who was drowned in the Royal George when it went down to Spithead in 1782. The conjecture probably had no other foundation—a very frail one-than an eulogium on the colonel's character in Captain Sentry's letter to the club, announcing his induction into Sir Roger's estate, which forms the last of the Coverley papers.
ments and at several sieges; but having 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 his 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 favor 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, es. pecially 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 among us the gallant Will. Honeycomb,' a gentleman who, ac
1 Col. Cleland of the Life Guards has been named as the real person