«Зритель (The Spectator)»

Your most humble Servant,

Philipater.

Weaver

Mariamne Mariamne

Chloe

Footnote 1: 66 67 334 370 376

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Footnote 2: Dancing

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Contents

№ 467

Tuesday, August 26, 1712

Джон Хьюз

Quodcunque meæ poterunt Audere Camænæ

Seu Tibi par poterunt, seu, quod spes abnuit ultra;

Sive minus; certeque canent minus; omne vovemus

Hoc tibi; ne tanto careat mihi nomine Charta.

Tibull. ad Messalam.

and Tully Pliny Roman 1 Cæsar Sir And Manilius 2

Manilius

Manilius One Pindar Theron 3 Swear, that Theron sure has sworn,

No one near him should be Poor.

Swear, that none e'er had such a graceful Art,

Fortune's Free-Gifts as freely to impart,

With an unenvious Hand, and an unbounded Heart.

Atticus Manilius Raphael

He Bussy d'Amboise 4

Aristippus Sir

Footnote 1: pro Marcello 'Why might we not as well once more hear a speech from Cicero? There is no doubt that Ligarius is a bad man and an enemy.'

'he was,' says Plutarch, 'so affected that his body trembled, and some of the papers he held dropped from his hands, and thus he was overpowered, and acquitted Ligarius.'

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Footnote 2:

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Footnote 3:

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Footnote 4:

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Contents

№ 468

Wednesday, August 27, 1712

Стил

Erat Homo ingeniosus, acutus, acer, et qui plurimum et salis haberet et fellis, nec candoris minus.

Plin. Epist.

Importance Dick Eastcourt 1 Eastcourt Eastcourt's England Hamlet Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a Fellow of infinite Jest, of most excellent Fancy; he hath born me on his Back a thousand times: And how abhorred my Imagination is now, my Gorge rises at it. Here hung those Lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Where be your Gibes now, your Gambols, your Songs, your Flashes of Merriment, that were wont to set the Table on a Roar: No one now to mock your own Jeerings: quite Chop-fallen. Now get you to my Lady's Chamber, and tell her, Let her paint an Inch thick, to this Favour she must come. Make her laugh at that.

Eastcourt

a Bulfinch Northern Lass 2 Air Pounce Tender Husband 3

Eastcourt

Sir wish go on—. 4

Footnote 1: Footnote 1 No. 264.

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Footnote 4: go on—

It is a felicity his Friends may rejoice in, that he had his Senses, and used them as he ought to do, in his last Moments. It is remarkable that his Judgment was in its calm Perfection to the utmost Article, for when his Wife out of her fondness, deSir ed she might send for a certain illiterate Humourist (whom he had accompanied in a thousand mirthful Moments, and whose Insolence makes Fools think he assumes from conscious Merit) he answered, 'Do what you please, but he won't come near me.' Let poor Eastcourt's Negligence about this Message convince the unwary of a triumphant Empiric's Ignorance and Inhumanity.

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№ 469

Thursday, August 28, 1712

Аддисон

Detrahere aliquid altieri, et hominem hominis incommodo suum augere commodum, magis est contra naturam, quam mors, quam paupertas, quam dolor, quam cætera quæ possunt aut corpori accidere, aut rebus externis.

Tull.

short Occasions for all the Good-natured Offices of 1

Footnote 1: Opportunities of exercising his

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Contents

№ 470

Friday, August 29, 1712

Аддисон

Turpe est difficiles babere nugas,

Et stultus est labor ineptiarum.

Mart.

Latin et ac Latin

this Song 1 My Love was fickle once and changing,

Nor e'er would settle in my Heart;

From Beauty still to Beauty ranging,

In ev'ry Face I found a Dart.

'Twas first a charming Shape enslav'd me,

An Eye then gave the fatal Stroke;

'Till by her Wit Corinna sav'd me,

And all my former Fetters broke.

But now a long and lasting Anguish

For Belvidera I endure;

Hourly I Sigh and hourly Languish,

Nor hope to find the wonted Cure.

For here the false unconstant Lover,

After a thousand Beauties shown,

Does new surprizing Charms discover,

And finds Variety in One.

Various Readings.

And changing and & Cotton

Nor e'er would Aldus ever would Synæresis

Ibid In my Heart Scaliger on my Heart

I found a Dart Vatican I it I T

The fatal Stroke Scioppius, Salmasius the a

Till by her Wit his Wit your their Wit Corinna her

A long and lasting Anguish German a lasting Passion

For I endure Belvidera Pelvidera; Pelvis Pelvidera

Hourly I sigh and hourly languish hourly daily nightly

The wonted Cure Stevens wanted Cure

After a thousand Beauties Hundred Beauties Thousand Hundred

And finds Variety in one in two

Footnote 1: Song, which by the way is a beautiful Descant upon a single Thought, like the Compositions of the best Ancient Lyrick Poets, I say we will suppose this Song

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Contents

№ 471

Saturday, August 30, 1712

Аддисон

Time present

past is to come

We should hope for every thing that is good Linus, because there is nothing which may not be hoped for, and nothing but what the Gods are able to give us 1

Hope Cæsar Hope

Pandora's Pandora: Hope

dying

this I have set the Lord always before me: Because he is at my right Hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my Heart is glad, and my Glory rejoiceth: my Flesh also shall rest in hope. For thou wilt not leave my Soul in Hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see Corruption. Thou wilt shew me the Path of Life: in thy Presence is Fullness of Joy, at thy right Hand there are Pleasures for evermore2.

Footnote 1:

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Footnote 2: Psal

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Contents

№ 472

Monday, September 1, 1712

Стил

—Voluptas

Solamenque mali—

Virg.

Sir William Read Mr. Basil Plenty,

Sir ,

You have the Gout and Stone, with Sixty thousand Pound Sterling; I have the Gout and Stone, not worth one Farthing; I shall pray for you, and deSir e you would pay the Bearer Twenty Shillings for Value received from,

Sir ,

Your humble Servant,

Lazarus Hopeful.

Cripple-Gate,

Aug. 29, 1712.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'Ruminating lately on your admirable Discourses on the Pleasures of the Imagination, I began to consider to which of our Senses we are obliged for the greatest and most important Share of those Pleasures; and I soon concluded that it was to the Sight: That is the Sovereign of the Senses, and Mother of all the Arts and Sciences, that have refined the Rudeness of the uncultivated Mind to a Politeness that distinguishes the fine Spirits from the barbarous Goût of the great Vulgar and the small. The Sight is the obliging Benefactress, that bestows on us the most transporting Sensations that we have from the various and wonderful Products of Nature. To the Sight we owe the amazing Discoveries of the Height, Magnitude, and Motion of the Planets; their several Revolutions about their common Centre of Light, Heat, and Motion, the Sun. The Sight travels yet farther to the fixed Stars, and furnishes the Understanding with solid Reasons to prove, that each of them is a Sun moving on its own Axis in the Centre of its own Vortex or Turbillion, and performing the same Offices to its dependant Planets, that our glorious Sun does to this. But the Enquiries of the Sight will not be stopped here, but make their Progress through the immense Expanse to the Milky Way, and there divide the blended Fires of the Galaxy into infinite and different Worlds, made up of distinct Suns, and their peculiar Equipages of Planets, till unable to pursue this Track any farther, it deputes the Imagination to go on to new Discoveries, till it fill the unbounded Space with endless Worlds.

The Sight informs the Statuary's Chizel with Power to give Breath to lifeless Brass and Marble, and the Painter's Pencil to swell the flat Canvas with moving Figures actuated by imaginary Souls. Musick indeed may plead another Original, since Jubal, by the different Falls of his Hammer on the Anvil, discovered by the Ear the first rude Musick that pleasd the Antediluvian Fathers; but then the Sight has not only reduced those wilder Sounds into artful Order and Harmony, but conveys that Harmony to the most distant Parts of the World without the Help of Sound. To the Sight we owe not only all the Discoveries of Philosophy, but all the Divine Imagery of Poetry that transports the intelligent Reader of Homer, Milton, and Virgil.

As the Sight has polished the World, so does it supply us with the most grateful and lasting Pleasure. Let Love, let Friendship, paternal Affection, filial Piety, and conjugal Duty, declare the Joys the Sight bestows on a Meeting after Absence. But it would be endless to enumerate all the Pleasures and Advantages of Sight; every one that has it, every Hour he makes use of it, finds them, feels them, enjoys them.

Thus as our greatest Pleasures and Knowledge are derived from the Sight, so has Providence been more curious in the Formation of its Seat, the Eye, than of the Organs of the other Senses. That stupendous Machine is compos'd in a wonderful Manner of Muscles, Membranes, and Humours. Its Motions are admirably directed by the Muscles; the Perspicuity of the Humours transmit the Rays of Light; the Rays are regularly refracted by their Figure, the black Lining of the Sclerotes effectually prevents their being confounded by Reflection. It is wonderful indeed to consider how many Objects the Eye is fitted to take in at once, and successively in an Instant, and at the same time to make a Judgment of their Position, Figure, or Colour. It watches against our Dangers, guides our Steps, and lets in all the visible Objects, whose Beauty and Variety instruct and delight.

The Pleasures and Advantages of Sight being so great, the Loss must be very grievous; of which Milton, from Experience, gives the most sensible Idea, both in the third Book of his Paradise Lost, and in his Sampson Agonistes.

To Light in the former.

—Thee I revisit safe,

And feel thy sovereign vital Lamp; but thou

Revisit'st not these Eyes, that roul in vain

To find thy piercing Ray, but find no Dawn.

And a little after,

Seasons return, but not to me returns

Day, or the sweet Approach of Ev'n and Morn,

Or Sight of vernal Bloom, or Summer's Rose,

Or Flocks or Herds, or human Face divine;

But Cloud instead, and ever-during Dark

Surround me: From the chearful Ways of Men

Cut off, and for the Book of Knowledge fair,

Presented—with an universal Blank

Of Nature's Works, to me expung'd and raz'd,

And Wisdom at one Entrance quite shut out.

Again, in Sampson Agonistes.

—But Chief of all,

O Loss of Sight! of thee I most complain;

Blind among Enemies! O worse than Chains,

Dungeon, or Beggary, or decrepid Age!

Light, the prime Work of God, to me extinct,

And all her various Objects of Delight

Annull'd—

—Still as a Fool,

In Power of others, never in my own,

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than Half:

O dark! dark! dark! amid the Blaze of Noon:

Irrecoverably dark, total Eclipse,

Without all Hopes of Day!

The Enjoyment of Sight then being so great a Blessing, and the Loss of it so terrible an Evil, how excellent and valuable is the Skill of that Artist which can restore the former, and redress the latter? My frequent Perusal of the Advertisements in the publick News-Papers (generally the most agreeable Entertainment they afford) has presented me with many and various Benefits of this kind done to my Countrymen by that skilful Artist Dr. Grant, Her Majesty's Oculist Extraordinary, whose happy Hand has brought and restored to Sight several Hundreds in less than Four Years. Many have received Sight by his Means, who came blind from their Mother's Womb, as in the famous Instance of Jones of Newington1. I my self have been cured by him of a Weakness in my Eyes next to Blindness, and am ready to believe any thing that is reported of his Ability this way; and know that many, who could not purchase his Assistance with Money, have enjoy'd it from his Charity. But a List of Particulars would swell my Letter beyond its Bounds, what I have said being sufficient to comfort those who are in the like Distress, since they may conceive Hopes of being no longer miserable in this Kind, while there is yet alive so able an Oculist as Dr. Grant.

I am the Spectator's humble Servant,

Philanthropus

Footnote 1: A Full and True Account of a Miraculous Cure of a young Man in Newington, &c,

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Contents

№ 473

Tuesday, September 2, 1712

Стил

Quid? si quis vultu torvo ferus et pede nudo

Exiguæque togæ simulet textore Catonem;

Virtutemne repræsentet moresque Catonis?

Hor.

To the SPECTATOR.

Sir ,

I am now in the Country, and employ most of my Time in reading, or thinking upon what I have read. Your paper comes constantly down to me, and it affects me so much, that I find my Thoughts run into your Way; and I recommend to you a Subject upon which you have not yet touched, and that is the Satisfaction some Men seem to take in their Imperfections, I think one may call it glorying in their Insufficiency; a certain great Author is of Opinion it is the contrary to Envy, tho perhaps it may proceed from it. Nothing is so common, as to hear Men of this Sort, speaking of themselves, add to their own Merit (as they think) by impairing it, in praising themselves for their Defects, freely allowing they commit some few frivolous Errors, in order to be esteemed persons of uncommon Talents and great Qualifications. They are generally professing an injudicious Neglect of Dancing, Fencing and Riding, as also an unjust Contempt for Travelling and the Modern Languages; as for their Part (say they) they never valued or troubled their Head about them. This panegyrical Satyr on themselves certainly is worthy of your Animadversion. I have known one of these Gentlemen think himself obliged to forget the Day of an Appointment, and sometimes even that you spoke to him; and when you see em, they hope youll pardon 'em, for they have the worst Memory in the World. One of em started up tother Day in some Confusion, and said, Now I think on't, I'm to meet Mr. Mortmain the Attorney about some Business, but whether it is to Day or to Morrow, faith, I can't tell. Now to my certain Knowledge he knew his Time to a Moment, and was there accordingly. These forgetful Persons have, to heighten their Crime, generally the best Memories of any People, as I have found out by their remembring sometimes through Inadvertency. Two or three of em that I know can say most of our modern Tragedies by Heart. I asked a Gentleman the other Day that is famous for a Good Carver, (at which Acquisition he is out of Countenance, imagining it may detract from some of his more essential Qualifications) to help me to something that was near him; but he excused himself, and blushing told me, Of all things he could never carve in his Life; though it can be proved upon him, that he cuts up, disjoints, and uncases with incomparable Dexterity. I would not be understood as if I thought it laudable for a Man of Quality and Fortune to rival the Aquisitions of Artificers, and endeavour to excel in little handy Qualities; No, I argue only against being ashamed at what is really Praiseworthy. As these Pretences to Ingenuity shew themselves several Ways, you'll often see a Man of this Temper ashamed to be clean, and setting up for Wit only from Negligence in his Habit. Now I am upon this Head, I can't help observing also upon a very different Folly proceeding from the same Cause. As these above-mentioned arise from affecting an Equality with Men of greater Talents from having the same Faults, there are others who would come at a Parallel with those above them, by possessing little Advantages which they want. I heard a young Man not long ago, who has sense, comfort himself in his Ignorance of Greek, Hebrew, and the Orientals: At the same Time that he published his Aversion to those Languages, he said that the Knowledge of 'em was rather a Diminution than an Advancement of a Man's Character: tho' at the same Time I know he languishes and repines he is not Master of them himself. Whenever I take any of these fine Persons, thus detracting from what they don't understand, I tell them I will complain to you, and say I am sure you will not allow it an Exception against a thing, that he who contemns it is an Ignorant in it.

I am, Sir ,

Your most humble Servant,

S. P.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I am a Man of a very good Estate, and am honourably in Love. I hope you will allow, when the ultimate Purpose is honest, there may be, without Trespass against Innocence, some Toying by the Way. People of Condition are perhaps too distant and formal on those Occasions; but, however that is, I am to confess to you, that I have writ some Verses to atone for my Offence. You profess'd Authors are a little severe upon us, who write like Gentlemen: But if you are a Friend to Love, you will insert my Poem. You cannot imagine how much Service it will do me with my Fair one, as well as Reputation with all my Friends, to have something of mine in the Spectator. My Crime was, that I snatch'd a Kiss, and my Poetical Excuse as follows:

I Belinda, see from yonder Flowers

The Bee flies loaded to its Cell;

Can you perceive what it devours?

Are they impar'd in Show or Smell?

II So, tho' I robb'd you of a Kiss,

Sweeter than their Ambrosial Dew;

Why are you angry at my Bliss?

Has it at all impoverish'd you?

III 'Tis by this Cunning I contrive,

In spight of your unkind Reserve,

To keep my famish'd Love alive,

Which you inhumanly would starve.

I am, Sir ,

Your humble Servant,

Timothy Stanza.

Aug. 23, 1712.

Sir ,

Having a little Time upon my Hands, I could not think of bestowing it better, than in writing an Epistle to the SPECTATOR, which I now do, and am,

Sir , Your humble Servant,

BOB SHORT.

P. S. If you approve of my Style, I am likely enough to become your Correspondent. I deSir e your Opinion of it. I design it for that Way of Writing called by the Judicious the Familiar.

Contents

Посвящение седьмому тому «Зрителя»

To Mr Methuen1.

Sir

British England Portugal

Savoy England

Sir

Richard

Footnote 1: Sir Spectator

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Contents

№ 474

Wednesday, September 3, 1712

Стил

Asperitas agrestis et inconcinna.

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Being of the Number of those that have lately retired from the Center of Business and Pleasure, my Uneasiness in the Country where I am, arises rather from the Society than the Solitude of it. To be obliged to receive and return Visits from and to a Circle of Neighbours, who through Diversity of Age or Inclinations, can neither be entertaining or serviceable to us, is a vile Loss of Time, and a Slavery from which a Man should deliver himself, if possible: For why must I lose the remaining part of my Life, because they have thrown away the former Part of theirs? It is to me an insupportable Affliction, to be tormented with the Narrations of a Set of People, who are warm in their Expressions of the quick Relish of that Pleasure which their Dogs and Horses have a more delicate Taste of. I do also in my Heart detest and abhor that damnable Doctrine and Position of the Necessity of a Bumper, though to one's own Toast; for though 'tis pretended that these deep Politicians are used only to inspire Gaiety, they certainly drown that Chearfulness which would survive a moderate Circulation. If at these Meetings it were left to every Stranger either to fill his Glass according to his own Inclination, or to make his Retreat when he finds he has been sufficiently obedient to that of others, these Entertainments would be governed with more good Sense, and consequently with more good Breeding, than at present they are. Indeed where any of the Guests are known to measure their Fame or Pleasure by their Glass, proper Exhortations might be used to these to push their Fortunes in this sort of Reputation; but where 'tis unseasonably insisted on to a modest Stranger, this Drench may be said to be swallowed with the same Necessity, as if it had been tendered in the Horn1 for that purpose, with this aggravating Circumstance, that it distresses the Entertainer's Guest in the same degree as it relieves his Horses.

To attend without Impatience an Account of five-barr'd Gates, double Ditches, and Precipices, and to survey the Orator with deSir ing Eyes, is to me extremely difficult, but absolutely necessary, to be upon tolerable Terms with him: but then the occasional Burstings out into Laughter, is of all other Accomplishments the most requisite. I confess at present I have not that command of these Convulsions, as is necessary to be good Company; therefore I beg you would publish this Letter, and let me be known all at once for a queer Fellow, and avoided. It is monstrous to me, that we, who are given to Reading and calm Conversation, should ever be visited by these Roarers: But they think they themselves, as Neighbours, may come into our Rooms with the same Right, that they and their Dogs hunt in our Grounds.

Your Institution of Clubs I have always admir'd, in which you constantly endeavoured the Union of the metaphorically Defunct, that is such as are neither serviceable to the Busy and Enterprizing part of Mankind, nor entertaining to the Retir'd and Speculative. There should certainly therefore in each County be established a Club of the Persons whose Conversations I have described, who for their own private, as also the publick Emolument, should exclude, and be excluded all other Society. Their Attire should be the same with their Huntsmen's, and none should be admitted into this green Conversation-Piece, except he had broke his Collar-bone thrice. A broken Rib or two might also admit a Man without the least Opposition. The President must necessarily have broken his Neck, and have been taken up dead once or twice: For the more Maims this Brotherhood shall have met with, the easier will their Conversation flow and keep up; and when any one of these vigorous Invalids had finished his Narration of the Collar-bone, this naturally would introduce the History of the Ribs. Besides, the different Circumstances of their Falls and Fractures would help to prolong and diversify their Relations. There should also be another Club of such Men, who have not succeeded so well in maiming themselves, but are however in the constant Pursuit of these Accomplishments. I would by no means be suspected by what I have said to traduce in general the Body of Fox-hunters; for whilst I look upon a reasonable Creature full-speed after a Pack of Dogs, by way of Pleasure, and not of Business, I shall always make honourable mention of it.

But the most irksome Conversation of all others I have met with in the Neighbourhood, has been among two or three of your Travellers, who have overlooked Men and Manners, and have passed through Franceand Italywith the same Observation that the Carriers and Stage-Coachmen do through Great-Britain;that is, their Stops and Stages have been regulated according to the Liquor they have met with in their Passage. They indeed remember the Names of abundance of Places, with the particular Fineries of certain Churches: But their distinguishing Mark is certain Prettinesses of Foreign Languages, the Meaning of which they could have better express'd in their own. The Entertainment of these fine Observers, Shakespearhas described to consist

In talking of the Alps and Appennines,

The Pyrenean, and the River Po.2

and then concludes with a Sigh,

Now this is worshipful Society!

I would not be thought in all this to hate such honest Creatures as Dogs; I am only unhappy that I cannot partake in their Diversions. But I love them so well, as Dogs, that I often go with my Pockets stuffed with Bread to dispense my Favours, or make my way through them at Neighbours' Houses. There is in particular a young Hound of great Expectation, Vivacity, and Enterprize, that attends my Flights where-ever he spies me. This Creature observes my Countenance, and behaves himself accordingly. His Mirth, his Frolick, and Joy upon the Sight of me has been observed, and I have been gravely deSir ed not to encourage him so much, for it spoils his Parts; but I think he shews them sufficiently in the several Boundings, Friskings, and Scourings, when he makes his Court to me: But I foresee in a little time he and I must keep Company with one another only, for we are fit for no other in these Parts. Having informd you how I do pass my time in the Country where I am, I must proceed to tell you how I would pass it, had I such a Fortune as would put me above the Observance of Ceremony and Custom.

My Scheme of a Country Life then should be as follows. As I am happy in three or four very agreeable Friends, these I would constantly have with me; and the Freedom we took with one another at School and the University, we would maintain and exert upon all Occasions with great Courage. There should be certain Hours of the Day to be employ'd in Reading, during which time it should be impossible for any one of us to enter the other's Chamber, unless by Storm. After this we would communicate the Trash or Treasure we had met with, with our own Reflections upon the Matter; the Justness of which we would controvert with good-humour'd Warmth, and never spare one another out of the complaisant Spirit of Conversation, which makes others affirm and deny the same matter in a quarter of an Hour. If any of the Neighbouring Gentlemen, not of our Turn, should take it in their heads to visit me, I should look upon these Persons in the same degree Enemies to my particular state of Happiness, as ever the French were to that of the Publick, and I would be at an annual Expence in Spies to observe their Motions. Whenever I should be surprized with a Visit, as I hate Drinking. I would be brisk in swilling Bumpers, upon this Maxim, That it is better to trouble others with my Impertinence, than to be troubled my self with theirs. The Necessity of an Infirmary makes me resolve to fall into that Project; and as we should be but Five, the Terrors of an involuntary Separation, which our Number cannot so well admit of, would make us exert our selves, in opposition to all the particulars mentioned in your Institution of that equitable Confinement. This my way of Life I know would subject me to the Imputation of a morose, covetous and singular Fellow. These and all other hard words, with all manner of insipid Jests, and all other Reproach, would be matter of Mirth to me and my Friends: Besides, I would destroy the Application of the Epithets Morose and Covetous, by a yearly Relief of my undeservedly necessitous Neighbours, and by treating my Friends and Domesticks with an Humanity that should express the Obligation to lie rather on my side; and for the word Singular, I was always of opinion every Man must be so, to be what one would deSir e him.

Your very humble Servant,

J. R.3

Mr. SPECTATOR,

About two Years ago I was called upon by the younger part of a Country Family, by my Mother's side related to me, to visit Mr. Campbell, the dumb Man4; for they told me that that was chiefly what brought them to Town, having heard Wonders of him in Essex. I, who always wanted Faith in Matters of that kind, was not easily prevailed on to go; but lest they should take it ill, I went with them; when to my surprize, Mr. Campbell related all their past Life, (in short, had he not been prevented, such a Discovery would have come out, as would have ruined the next design of their coming to Town, viz. buying Wedding-Cloaths.) Our Names—though he never heard of us before—and we endeavoured to conceal—were as familiar to him as to our selves. To be sure, Mr. SPECTATOR, he is a very learned and wise Man. Being impatient to know my Fortune, having paid my respects in a Family-Jacobus, he told me (after his manner) among several other things, that in a Year and nine Months I should fall ill of a new Fever, be given over by my Physicians, but should with much difficulty recover: That the first time I took the Air afterwards, I should be address'd to by a young Gentleman of a plentiful Fortune, good Sense, and a generous Spirit. Mr. SPECTATOR, he is the purest Man in the World, for all he said is come to pass, and I am the happiest She in Kent. I have been in quest of Mr. Campbell these three Months, and cannot find him out. Now hearing you are a dumb Man too, I thought you might correspond, and be able to tell me something; for I think my self highly oblig'd to make his Fortune, as he has mine. 'Tis very possible your Worship, who has Spies all over this Town, can inform me how to send to him: If you can, I Beseech you be as speedy as possible, and you will highly oblige

Your constant Reader and Admirer,

Dulcibella Thankley.

Ordered Golden-Lion Half-Moon Drury-Lane

Footnote 1:

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Footnote 2: King John

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Footnote 3:

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Footnote 4: Footnote 4 No. 323

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Contents

№ 475

Thursday, September 4, 1712

Аддисон

—Quæ res in se neque Consilium neque modum

Habet ullum, eam consilio regere non potes.

Tert.

Sir Hipparchus Philander Philander Celia Sir Leonilla Leonilla Celia Congé d'elire

Melissa Tom Townly

Will. Honeycomb Betty Single Will

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Now, Sir , the thing is this: Mr. Shapely is the prettiest Gentleman about Town. He is very tall, but not too tall neither. He dances like a Angel. His Mouth is made I don't know how, but 'tis the prettiest that I ever saw in my Life. He is always laughing, for he has an infinite deal of Wit. If you did but see how he rolls his Stockins! He has a thousand pretty Fancies, and I am sure, if you saw him, you would like him. He is a very good Scholar, and can talk Latin as fast as English. I wish you could but see him dance. Now you must understand poor Mr. Shapely has no Estate; but how can he help that, you know? And yet my Friends are so unreasonable as to be always teazing me about him, because he has no Estate: but I am sure he has that that is better than an Estate; for he is a Good-natured, Ingenious, Modest, Civil, Tall, Well-bred, Handsome Man, and I am obliged to him for his Civilities ever since I saw him. I forgot to tell you that he has black Eyes, and looks upon me now and then as if he had tears in them. And yet my Friends are so unreasonable, that they would have me be uncivil to him. I have a good Portion which they cannot hinder me of, and I shall be fourteen on the 29th Day of August next, and am therefore willing to settle in the World as soon as I can, and so is Mr. Shapely. But every body I advise with here is poor Mr. Shapely's Enemy. I deSir e therefore you will give me your Advice, for I know you are a wise Man; and if you advise me well, I am resolved to follow it. I heartily wish you could see him dance, and am,

Sir ,

Your most humble Servant,

B. D.

He loves your Spectators mightily.

Contents

№ 476

Friday, September 5, 1712

Аддисон

—lucidus Ordo—

Hor.

Essays Seneca Montaigne Tully Aristotle

every it 1

to a barren Superfluity of Words; 2

Tom Puzzle Tom Tom Puzzle Doway Denain Puzzle Tom Will Dry Will Tom's What then? We allow all this to be true, but what is it to our present Purpose? Tom Dry's Sir Dry Puzzle

Footnote 1: its

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Footnote 2: Hourly his learn'd Impertinence affords

A barren Superfinity of Words.

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Contents

№ 477

Saturday, September 6, 1712

Аддисон

—An me ludit amabilis

Insania? audire et videor pios

Errare per lucos, amœnæ

Quos et aquæ subeunt et auræ.

Hor.

Sir ,

Having lately read your Essay on the Pleasures of the Imagination, I was so taken with your Thoughts upon some of our English Gardens, that I cannot forbear troubling you with a Letter upon that Subject. I am one, you must know, who am looked upon as an Humorist in Gardening. I have several Acres about my House, which I call my Garden, and which a skilful Gardener would not know what to call. It is a Confusion of Kitchin and Parterre, Orchard and Flower-Garden, which lie so mixt and interwoven with one another, that if a Foreigner who had seen nothing of our Country should be convey'd into my Garden at his first landing, he would look upon it as a natural Wilderness, and one of the uncultivated Parts of our Country. My Flowers grow up in several Parts of the Garden in the greatest Luxuriancy and Profusion. I am so far from being fond of any particular one, by reason of its Rarity, that if I meet with any one in a Field which pleases me, I give it a place in my Garden. By this means, when a Stranger walks with me, he is surprized to see several large Spots of Ground cover'd with ten thousand different Colours, and has often singled out Flowers that he might have met with under a common Hedge, in a Field, or in a Meadow, as some of the greatest Beauties of the Place. The only Method I observe in this Particular, is to range in the same Quarter the Products of the same Season, that they may make their Appearance together, and compose a Picture of the greatest Variety. There is the same Irregularity in my Plantations, which run into as great a Wildness as their Natures will permit. I take in none that do not naturally rejoice in the Soil, and am pleased when I am walking in a Labyrinth of my own raising, not to know whether the next Tree I shall meet with is an Apple or an Oak, an Elm or a Pear-Tree. My Kitchin has likewise its particular Quarters assigned it; for besides the wholesome Luxury which that Place abounds with, I have always thought a Kitchin-Garden a more pleasant Sight than the finest Orangery, or artificial Greenhouse. I love to see everything in its Perfection, and am more pleased to survey my Rows of Coleworts and Cabbages, with a thousand nameless Pot-herbs, springing up in their full Fragrancy and Verdure, than to see the tender Plants of Foreign Countries kept alive by artificial Heats, or withering in an Air and Soil that are not adapted to them. I must not omit, that there is a Fountain rising in the upper part of my Garden, which forms a little wandring Rill, and administers to the Pleasure as well as the Plenty of the Place. I have so conducted it, that it visits most of my Plantations; and have taken particular Care to let it run in the same manner as it would do in an open Field, so that it generally passes through Banks of Violets and Primroses, Plats of Willow, or other Plants, that seem to be of its own producing. There is another Circumstance in which I am very particular, or, as my Neighbours call me, very whimsical: As my Garden invites into it all the Birds of the Country, by offering them the Conveniency of Springs and Shades, Solitude and Shelter, I do not suffer any one to destroy their Nests in the Spring, or drive them from their usual Haunts in Fruit-time. I value my Garden more for being full of Blackbirds than Cherries, and very frankly give them Fruit for their Songs. By this means I have always the Musick of the Season in its Perfection, and am highly delighted to see the Jay or the Thrush hopping about my Walks, and shooting before my Eye across the several little Glades and Alleys that I pass thro'. I think there are as many kinds of Gardening as of Poetry: Your Makers of Parterres and Flower-Gardens, are Epigrammatists and Sonneteers in this Art: Contrivers of Bowers and Grotto's, Treillages and Cascades, are Romance Writers. Wise and London are our heroick Poets; and if, as a Critick, I may single out any Passage of their Works to commend, I shall take notice of that Part in the upper Garden at Kensington, which was at first nothing but a Gravel-Pit. It must have been a fine Genius for Gardening, that could have thought of forming such an unsightly Hollow into so beautiful an Area, and to have hit the Eye with so uncommon and agreeable a Scene as that which it is now wrought into. To give this particular Spot of Ground the greater Effect, they have made a very pleasing Contrast; for as on one side of the Walk you see this hollow Basin, with its several little Plantations lying so conveniently under the Eye of the Beholder; on the other side of it there appears a seeming Mount, made up of Trees rising one higher than another in proportion as they approach the Center. A Spectator, who has not heard this Account of it, would think this Circular Mount was not only a real one, but that it had been actually scooped out of that hollow Space which I have before mention'd. I never yet met with any one who had walked in this Garden, who was not struck with that Part of it which I have here mention'd. As for my self, you will find, by the Account which I have already given you, that my Compositions in Gardening are altogether after the Pindarick Manner, and run into the beautiful Wildness of Nature, without affecting the nicer Elegancies of Art. What I am now going to mention, will, perhaps, deserve your Attention more than any thing I have yet said. I find that in the Discourse which I spoke of at the Beginning of my Letter, you are against filling an English Garden with Ever-Greens; and indeed I am so far of your Opinion, that I can by no means think the Verdure of an Ever-Green comparable to that which shoots out annually, and clothes our Trees in the Summer-Season. But I have often wonder'd that those who are like my self, and love to live in Gardens, have never thought of contriving a Winter Garden, which would consist of such Trees only as never cast their Leaves. We have very often little Snatches of Sunshine and fair Weather in the most uncomfortable Parts of the Year; and have frequently several Days in November and January that are as agreeable as any in the finest Months. At such times, therefore, I think there could not be a greater Pleasure, than to walk in such a Winter-Garden as I have proposed. In the Summer-Season the whole Country blooms, and is a kind of Garden, for which reason we are not so sensible of those Beauties that at this time may be every where met with; but when Nature is in her Desolation, and presents us with nothing but bleak and barren Prospects, there is something unspeakably chearful in a Spot of Ground which is covered with Trees that smile amidst all the Rigours of Winter, and give us a View of the most gay Season in the midst of that which is the most dead and melancholy. I have so far indulged my self in this Thought, that I have set apart a whole Acre of Ground for the executing of it. The Walls are covered with Ivy instead of Vines. The Laurel, the Hornbeam, and the Holly, with many other Trees and Plants of the same nature, grow so thick in it, that you cannot imagine a more lively Scene. The glowing Redness of the Berries, with which they are hung at this time, vies with the Verdure of their Leaves, and are apt to inspire the Heart of the Beholder with that vernal Delight which you have somewhere taken notice of in your former papers1. It is very pleasant, at the same time, to see the several kinds of Birds retiring into this little Green Spot, and enjoying themselves among the Branches and Foliage, when my great Garden, which I have before mention'd to you, does not afford a single Leaf for their Shelter.

You must know, Sir , that I look upon the Pleasure which we take in a Garden, as one of the most innocent Delights in Human Life. A Garden was the Habitation of our first Parents before the Fall. It is naturally apt to fill the Mind with Calmness and Tranquillity, and to lay all its turbulent Passions at rest. It gives us a great insight into the Contrivance and Wisdom of Providence, and suggests innumerable Subjects for Meditation. I cannot but think the very Complacency and Satisfaction which a Man takes in these Works of Nature, to be a laudable, if not a virtuous Habit of Mind. For all which Reasons I hope you will pardon the Length of my present Letter. I am,

Footnote 1: No. 393.

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Contents

№ 478

Monday, September 8, 1712

Стил

—Usus

Quem penes Arbitrium est, et Jus et Norma—

Mr. SPECTATOR,

It happened lately, that a Friend of mine, who had many things to buy for his Family, would oblige me to walk with him to the Shops. He was very nice in his way, and fond of having every thing shewn, which at first made me very uneasy; but as his Humour still continu'd, the things which I had been staring at along with him, began to fill my Head, and led me into a Set of amusing Thoughts concerning them.

I fancied it must be very surprizing to any one who enters into a detail of Fashions, to consider how far the Vanity of Mankind has laid it self out in Dress, what a prodigious number of People it maintains, and what a Circulation of Money it occasions. Providence in this Case makes use of the Folly which we will not give up, and it becomes instrumental to the Support of those who are willing to labour. Hence it is that Fringe-Makers, Lace-Men, Tire-Women, and a number of other Trades, which would be useless in a simple State of Nature, draw their Subsistence; tho' it is seldom seen that such as these are extremely rich, because their original Fault of being founded upon Vanity, keeps them poor by the light Inconstancy of its Nature. The Variableness of Fashion turns the Stream of Business which flows from it now into one Channel, and anon into another; so that different Sets of People sink or flourish in their turns by it.

From the Shops we retir'd to the Tavern, where I found my Friend express so much satisfaction for the Bargains he had made, that my moral Reflections, (if I had told them) might have pass'd for a Reproof; so I chose rather to fall in with him, and let the Discourse run upon the use of Fashions.

Here we remembred how much Man is govern'd by his Senses, how lively he is struck by the Objects which appear to him in an agreeable manner, how much Clothes contribute to make us agreeable Objects, and how much we owe it to our selves that we should appear so.

We considered Man as belonging to Societies; Societies as form'd of different Ranks; and different Ranks distinguished by Habits, that all proper Duty or Respect might attend their Appearance.

We took notice of several Advantages which are met with in the Occurrences of Conversation. How the bashful Man has been sometimes so rais'd, as to express himself with an Air of Freedom, when he imagines that his Habit introduces him to Company with a becoming Manner: And again, how a Fool in fine Clothes shall be suddenly heard with Attention, till he has betray'd himself; whereas a Man of Sense appearing with a Dress of Negligence, shall be but coldly received, till he be proved by Time, and established in a Character. Such things as these we cou'd recollect to have happen'd to our knowledge so very often, that we concluded the Author had his Reasons, who advises his Son to go in Dress rather above his Fortune than under it.

At last the Subject seem'd so considerable, that it was proposed to have a Repository built for Fashions, as there are Chambers for Medals and other Rarities. The Building may be shap'd as that which stands among the Pyramids, in the Form of a Woman's Head. This may be rais'd upon Pillars, whose Ornaments shall bear a just relation to the Design. Thus there may be an Imitation of Fringe carv'd in the Base, a sort of Appearance of Lace in the Frieze, and a Representation of curling Locks, with Bows of Ribband sloping over them, may fill up the Work of the Cornish. The Inside may be divided into two Apartments appropriated to each Sex. The Apartments may be fill'd with Shelves, on which Boxes are to stand as regularly as Books in a Library. These are to have Folding-Doors, which being open'd, you are to behold a Baby dressed out in some Fashion which has flourish'd, and standing upon a Pedestal, where the time of its Reign is mark'd down. For its further Regulation, let it be order'd, that every one who invents a Fashion shall bring in his Box, whose Front he may at pleasure have either work'd or painted with some amorous or gay Device, that, like Books with gilded Leaves and Covers, it may the sooner draw the Eyes of the Beholders. And to the end that these may be preserv'd with all due Care, let there be a Keeper appointed, who shall be a Gentleman qualify'd with a competent Knowledge in Clothes; so that by this means the Place, will be a comfortable Support for some Beau who has spent his Estate in dressing.

The Reasons offer'd by which we expected to gain the Approbation of the Publick, were as follows.

First, That every one who is considerable enough to be a Mode, and has any Imperfection of Nature or Chance, which it is possible to hide by the Advantage of Clothes, may, by coming to this Repository, be furnish'd her self, and furnish all who are under the same Misfortune, with the most agreeable Manner of concealing it; and that on the other side, every one who has any Beauty in Face or Shape, may also be furnished with the most agreeable Manner of shewing it.

Secondly, That whereas some of our young Gentlemen who travel, give us great reason to suspect that they only go abroad to make or improve a Fancy for Dress, a Project of this nature may be a means to keep them at home, which is in effect the keeping of so much Money in the Kingdom. And perhaps the Balance of Fashion in Europe, which now leans upon the side of France, may be so alter'd for the future, that it may become as common with Frenchmen to come to England for their finishing Stroke of Breeding, as it has been for Englishmen to go to France for it.

Thirdly, Whereas several great Scholars, who might have been otherwise useful to the World, have spent their time in studying to describe the Dresses of the Ancients from dark Hints, which they are fain to interpret and support with much Learning, it will from henceforth happen, that they shall be freed from the Trouble, and the World from useless Volumes. This Project will be a Registry, to which Posterity may have recourse, for the clearing such obscure Passages as tend that way in Authors; and therefore we shall not for the future submit our selves to the Learning of Etymology, which might persuade the Age to come, that the Farthingal was worn for Cheapness, or the Furbeloe for Warmth.

Fourthly, Whereas they who are old themselves, have often a way of railing at the Extravagance of Youth, and the whole Age in which their Children live; it is hoped that this ill Humour will be much suppress'd, when we can have recourse to the Fashions of their Times, produce them in our Vindication, and be able to shew that it might have been as expensive in Queen Elizabeth's time only to wash and quill a Ruff, as it is now to buy Cravats or Neck-Handkerchiefs.

We deSir e also to have it taken Notice of, That because we would shew a particular respect to Foreigners, which may induce them to perfect their Breeding here in a Knowledge which is very proper for pretty Gentlemen, we have conceived the Motto for the House in the Learned Language. There is to be a Picture over the Door, with a Looking-Glass and a Dressing-Chair in the Middle of it: Then on one side are to be seen, above one another, Patch-Boxes, Pin-Cushions, and little Bottles; on the other, Powder Baggs, Puffs, Combs and Brushes; beyond these, Swords with fine Knots, whose Points are hidden, and Fans almost closed, with the Handles downward, are to stand out interchangeably from the Sides till they meet at the Top, and form a Semicircle over the rest of the Figures: Beneath all, the Writing is to run in this pretty sounding Manner:

Adeste, O quotquot sunt, Veneres, Gratiæ, Cupidines1,

En vobis adsunt in promptu

Faces, Vincula, Spicula,

Hinc eligite, sumite, regite.

I am, Sir ,

Your most humble Servant,

A. B.

Sir

N. B. The Place of the Physician to this Society, according to the last mentioned Qualification, is already engag'd.

Footnote 1: All ye Venuses, Graces, and Cupids, attend:

See prepared to your hands

Darts, torches, and bands:

Your weapons here choose, and your empire extend.

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Contents

№ 479

Tuesday, September 9, 1712

Стил

—Dare Jure maritis.

Hor.

Sir Sir Tom Trusty On Will Sparkish squaling 1

As 2 Socrates He That they who learn to keep a good Seat on horseback, mount the least managable they can get, and when they have master'd them, they are sure never to be discomposed on the Backs of Steeds less restive. 3 My dear Friend, you are beholden to that I bear so well your flying out in a Dispute. My Hen clacks very much, but she brings me Chickens. They that live in a trading Street, are not disturbed at the Passage of Carts.

How happy will this make my Wife and Children? But, all this while my Wife and Children are safe

Footnote 1: squalwing

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Footnote 2: de Legibus et Dounsuetudinibus Anglia quædam sunt sub virga, ut uxores, &c.

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Footnote 3: Symposium

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Contents

№ 480

Wednesday, September 10, 1712

Стил

Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores,

Fortis, et in seipso totus teres, atque rotundus.

Hor.

mighty Pharamond France Eucrate 1 Pharamond

Monsieur Chezluy to Pharamond.

Dread Sir ,

I have from your own Hand (enclosed under the Cover of Mr. Eucrate of your Majesty's Bed-Chamber) a Letter which invites me to Court. I understand this great Honour to be done me out of Respect and Inclination to me, rather than Regard to your own Service: For which Reason I beg leave to lay before your Majesty my Reasons for declining to depart from Home; and will not doubt but, as your Motive in deSir ing my Attendance was to make me an happier Man, when you think that will not be effected by my Remove, you will permit me to stay where I am. Those who have an Ambition to appear in Courts, have ever an Opinion that their Persons or their Talents are particularly formed for the Service or Ornament of that Place; or else are hurried by downright DeSir e of Gain, or what they call Honour, or take upon themselves whatever the Generosity of their Master can give them Opportunities to grasp at. But your Goodness shall not be thus imposed upon by me: I will therefore confess to you, that frequent Solitude, and long Conversation with such who know no Arts which polish Life, have made me the plainest Creature in your Dominions. Those less Capacities of moving with a good Grace, bearing a ready Affability to all around me, and acting with ease before many, have quite left me. I am come to that, with regard to my Person, that I consider it only as a Machine I am obliged to take Care of, in order to enjoy my Soul in its Faculties with Alacrity; well remembering, that this Habitation of Clay will in a few years be a meaner Piece of Earth than any Utensil about my House. When this is, as it really is, the most frequent Reflection I have, you will easily imagine how well I should become a Drawing-Room: Add to this, What shall a Man without DeSir es do about the generous Pharamond? Monsieur Eucrate has hinted to me, that you have thoughts of distinguishing me with Titles. As for my self, in the Temper of my present Mind, Appellations of Honour would but embarrass Discourse, and new Behaviour towards me perplex me in every Habitude of Life. I am also to acknowledge to you, that my Children, of whom your Majesty condescended to enquire, are all of them mean, both in their Persons and Genius. The Estate my eldest Son is Heir to, is more than he can enjoy with a good Grace. My Self-love will not carry me so far, as to impose upon Mankind the Advancement of Persons (merely for their being related to me) into high Distinctions, who ought for their own Sakes, as well as that of the Publick, to affect Obscurity. I wish, my generous Prince, as it is in your power to give Honours and Offices, it were also to give Talents suitable to them: Were it so, the noble Pharamond would reward the Zeal of my Youth with Abilities to do him Service in my Age.

'Those who accept of Favour without Merit, support themselves in it at the Expence of your Majesty. Give me Leave to tell you, Sir , this is the Reason that we in the Country hear so often repeated the Word Prerogative. That Part of your Law which is reserved in your self for the readier Service and Good of the Publick, slight Men are eternally buzzing in our Ears to cover their own Follies and Miscarriages. It would be an Addition to the high Favour you have done me, if you would let Eucrate send me word how often, and in what Cases you allow a Constable to insist upon the Prerogative. From the highest to the lowest Officer in your Dominions, something of their own Carriage they would exempt from Examination under the Shelter of the Word Prerogative. I would fain, most noble Pharamond, see one of your Officers assert your Prerogative by good and gracious Actions. When is it used to help the Afflicted, to rescue the Innocent, to comfort the Stranger? Uncommon Methods, apparently undertaken to attain worthy Ends, would never make Power invidious. You see, Sir , I talk to you with the Freedom your noble Nature approves, in all whom you admit to your Conversation.

'But, to return to your Majesty's Letter, I humbly conceive, that all Distinctions are useful to Men, only as they are to act in Publick; and it would be a romantick Madness, for a Man to be a Lord in his Closet. Nothing can be honourable to a Man apart from the World, but the Reflection upon worthy Actions; and he that places Honour in a Consciousness of Well-doing, will have but little Relish for any outward Homage that is paid him, since what gives him distinction to himself, cannot come within the Observation of his Beholders. Thus all the Words of Lordship, Honour, and Grace, are only Repetitions to a Man that the King has order'd him to be called so; but no Evidences that there is any thing in himself that would give the Man who applies to him those Ideas, without the Creation of his Master.

'I have, most noble Pharamond, all Honours and all Titles in your own Approbation; I triumph in them as they are your Gift, I refuse them as they are to give me the Observation of others. Indulge me, my Noble Master, in this Chastity of Renown; let me know my self in the Favour of Pharamond; and look down upon the Applause of the People.

I am,

in all Duty and Loyally,

Your Majesty's most obedient

Subject and Servant,

Jean Chezluy.

Sir ,

'I need not tell you with what Disadvantages Men of low Fortunes and great Modesty come into the World; what wrong Measures their Diffidence of themselves, and Fear of offending, often obliges them to take; and what a Pity it is that their greatest Virtues and Qualities, that should soonest recommend them, are the main Obstacle in the way of their Preferment.

'This, Sir , is my Case; I was bred at a Country-School, where I learned Latin and Greek. The Misfortunes of my Family forced me up to Town, where a Profession of the politer sort has protected me against Infamy and Want. I am now Clerk to a Lawyer, and, in times of Vacancy and Recess from Business, have made my self Master of Italian and French; and tho' the Progress I have made in my Business has gain'd me Reputation enough for one of my standing, yet my Mind suggests to me every day, that it is not upon that Foundation I am to build my Fortune.

'The Person I have my present Dependance upon, has it in his Nature, as well as in his Power, to advance me, by recommending me to a Gentleman that is going beyond Sea in a publick Employment. I know the printing this Letter would point me out to those I want Confidence to speak to, and I hope it is not in your Power to refuse making any Body happy.

September 9, 1712.

Yours, &c.

M. D.2

Footnote 1: 76 84 97

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Footnote 2:

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Contents

№ 481

Thursday, September 11, 1712

Аддисон

—Uti non

Compositus melius cum Bitho Bacchius, in jus

Acres procurrunt—

Hor.

It something 1 am Southern's 2 Sampson The Man must have his Mare again nothing Rechteren Mesnager Europe 3

Utrecht Suisse Cantons If u 4

What-d'ye-call-him's

Wiseacre France Europe u Mesnager's Rectrum

this began 5 the

French Mesnager's Mesnager's France Dutch His

Austria Gallick French West-Indies French u Mesnager

Rechteren Mesnager Rechteren u Mesnager Mesnager

Footnote 1: sometimes

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Footnote 2: The Fatal Marriage, or the Innocent Adultery

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Footnote 3: 'Tell me,' he said, 'of the conquests of Alexander. He had no Dutch deputies in his army.'

'it was deSir able to retard the Conferences, and this dispute gave a plausible reason.'

Memoires de Torcy

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Footnote 4: Monsieur

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Footnote 5: begun

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Contents

№ 482

Friday, September 12, 1712

Аддисон

Floriferis ut apes in saltibus omnia libant.

Lucr.

Tuesday's Henpeck'd Cheapside Sir Socrates Xantippe Benjamin Bamboo Tuesday's Bracton Tom Dapperwit Tom Purgatory

Euterpe Salick Xantippe

Mr. SPECTATOR,

You have given us a lively Picture of that kind of Husband who comes under the Denomination of the Hen-peck'd; but I do not remember that you have ever touched upon one that is of the quite different Character, and who, in several Places of England, goes by the Name of a Cot-Quean. I have the Misfortune to be joined for Life with one of this Character, who in reality is more a Woman than I am1. He was bred up under the Tuition of a tender Mother, till she had made him as good a House-wife as her self. He could preserve Apricots, and make Gellies, before he had been two Years out of the Nursery. He was never suffered to go abroad, for fear of catching Cold: when he should have been hunting down a Buck, he was by his Mother's Side learning how to Season it, or put it in Crust; and was making Paper-Boats with his Sisters, at an Age when other young Gentlemen are crossing the Seas, or travelling into Foreign Countries. He has the whitest Hand that you ever saw in your Life, and raises Paste better than any Woman in England. These Qualifications make him a sad Husband: He is perpetually in the Kitchin, and has a thousand Squabbles with the Cook-maid. He is better acquainted with the Milk-Score, than his Steward's Accounts. I fret to Death when I hear him find fault with a Dish that is not dressed to his liking, and instructing his Friends that dine with him in the best Pickle for a Walnut, or Sauce for an Haunch of Venison. With all this, he is a very good-natured Husband, and never fell out with me in his Life but once, upon the over-roasting of a Dish of Wild-Fowl: At the same time I must own I would rather he was a Man of a rough Temper, that would treat me harshly sometimes, than of such an effeminate busy Nature in a Province that does not belong to him. Since you have given us the Character of a Wife who wears the Breeches, pray say something of a Husband that wears the Petticoat. Why should not a Female Character be as ridiculous in a Man, as a Male Character in one of our Sex?