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seem attentive to nothing but the Post- is reasonable; but as for these three partiman, overhear the conversation of every culars, though I am sensible they might table in the room. I appear on Sunday tend very much to the embellishment of nights at St. James's coffee-house, and my paper, I cannot yet come to a resolusometimes join the little committee of po- tion of communicating them to the public. litics in the inner-room, as one who comes They would indeed draw me out of that obthere to hear and improve. My face is scurity which I have enjoyed for many likewise very well known at the Grecian, years, and expose me in public places to the Cocoa-tree, and in the theatres both of several salutes and civilities, which have Drury-lane and the Hay-market. I have been always very disagreeable to me; for been taken for a merchant upon the Ex- the greatest pain I can suffer, is the being change for above these ten years, and talked to, and being stared at. It is for sometimes pass for a Jew in the assembly this reason likewise, that I keep my comof stock-jobbers at Jonathan's. In short, plexion and dress as very great secrets; wherever I see a cluster of people, I al-though it is not impossible but I may make ways mix with them, though I never open my lips but in my own club.

discoveries of both in the progress of the work I have undertaken.

Thus I live in the world rather as a After having been thus particular upon Spectator of mankind, than as one of the myself, I shall in to-morrow's paper give species, by which means I have made my- an account of those gentlemen who are conself a speculative statesman, soldier, mer- cerned with me in this work; for, as I have chant, and artisan, without ever meddling before intimated, a plan of it is laid and with any practical part in life. I am very concerted (as all other matters of importwell versed in the theory of a husband, or ance are) in a club. However, as my a father, and can discern the errors in the friends have engaged me to stand in the economy, business, and diversion of others, front, those who have a mind to correbetter than those who are engaged in them; spond with me, may direct their letters to as standers-by discover blots, which are the Spectator, at Mr. Buckley's, in Little apt to escape those who are in the game. Britain. For I must further acquaint the I never espoused any party with violence, reader, that though our club meet only on and am resolved to observe an exact neu- Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have aptrality between the Whigs and Tories, un-pointed a committee to sit every night for less shall be forced to declare myself by the inspection of all such papers as may the hostilities of either side. In short, I contribute to the advancement of the pubhave acted in all the parts of my life as a lic weal. looker-on, which is the character I intend

to preserve in this paper.

I have given the reader just so much of

Ast alii sex

C.

Et plures, uno conclamant ore.-Juv. Sat. vii. 167.
Six more at least join their consenting voice.

my history and character, as to let him see No. 2.] Friday, March 2, 1710-11. I am not altogether unqualified for the business I have undertaken. As for other particulars in my life and adventures, I shall insert them in following papers, as I shall see occasion. In the mean time, when I consider how much I have seen, read, and Worcestershire, of an ancient descent, a THE first of our society is a gentleman of heard, I begin to blame my own tacitur- baronet, his name is sir Roger de Coverly. nity; and since I have neither time nor in- His great grandfather was inventor of that clination, to communicate the fulness of my famous country-dance which is called after heart in speech, I am resolved to do it in him. All who know that shire are very writing, and to print myself out, if possi-well acquainted with the parts and the ble, before I die. I have been often told merits of sir Roger. He is a gentleman by my friends, that it is a pity so many that is very singular in his behaviour, but useful discoveries which I have made his singularities proceed from his good should be in the possession of a silent man. For this reason, therefore, I shall publish a sheet full of thoughts every morning, for the benefit of my contemporaries; and if I can any way contribute to the diversion, or improvement of the country in which I live, I shall leave it when I am summoned out of it, with the secret satisfaction of thinking that I have not lived in vain.

There are three very material points which I have not spoken to in this paper; and which, for several important reasons, I must keep to myself, at least for some time: I mean an account of my name, my age, and my lodgings. I must confess, I would gratify my reader in any thing that

ners of the world, only as he thinks the sense, and are contradictions to the manworld 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

*Soho-square was at that time the genteelest part of the town. The handsome house, built by the unfor tunate Duke of Monmouth, occupied, until the year 1773, the whole of the ground on which Bateman's buildings now stand.

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. No one ever took him for a fool; county to him. Before this disappoint- but none, except his intimate friends, know ment, sir Roger was what you call a fine he has a great deal of wit. This turn gentleman, had often supped with my Lord makes him at once both disinterested and Rochester and sir George Etherege, fought agreeable. As few of his thoughts are 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 authority among us is another bachelor, who | 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 humoursome 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 attorney to answer and take care of in the lump. He is studying the passions themselves when he should be inquiring into the debates among men which arise from 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 infamous 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 not a rich man) he calls the sea the British Common. He is acquainted with commerce 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 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 general 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 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 invincible modesty. He is one of those that deserve very well but are very awkward at putting their talents within the observation of such as should take notice of them. He was some years a captain, and behaved

a word, all his conversation and knowledge has been in the female world. As other 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

man 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 engagements 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 nis merit, who is not something of a cour-of Monmouth danced at court, such a wo tier 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 person, 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 one 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.

No. 3.] Saturday, March 3, 1710-11.

Et quoi quisque fere studio devinctus adhæret,
Aut quibus in rebus multum sumus ante morati,
Atque in qua ratione fuit contenta magis mens,
In somnis eadem plerumque videmur obire.

R.

Lucr. 1. iv. 959.

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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.

to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, | letters from all parts of the world, which 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.

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 Anarchy, 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 these spectres; what then must have been of her well-wishers, she changed colour, her condition when she saw them all in a and startled at every thing she heard. She body? She fainted and died away at the was likewise (as I afterwards found) a sight. 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

'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 horn

†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, und 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 Æolus. 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.

Whilst I was lamenting this sudden desolation that had been made before me, the whole scene vanished. In the room of the frightful spectres, there now entered a second dance of apparitions, very agreeably matched together, and made up of very amiable phantoms. The first pair was Liberty 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 bulk, 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.

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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 I.

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 yet I remember I was once taken up for a jesuit, for no other reason but my profound taciturnity. It is from this misfortune, that to be out of harm's way, I have ever since affected crowds. He who comes into assemblies only to gratify his curiosity, and not to make a figure, enjoys the pleasures 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 ob scurity, 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 ap pellation 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 conversa

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