N° 264. is recommended indeed with great Beauty, and in fuch a Manner as difpofes the Reader for the Time to a pleafing Forgetfulness, or Negligence of the particular Hurry of Life in which he is engaged, together with a longing for that State which he is charmed with in Description. But when we confider the World it felf, and how few there are capable of a religious, learned, or philofophick Solitude, we shall be apt to change a Regard to that fort of Solitude, for being a little fingular in enjoying Time after the way a Man himself likes beft in the World, without going fo far as wholly to withdraw from it. I have often obferved, there is not a Man breathing who does not differ from all other Men, as much in the Sentiments of his Mind as the Features of his Face. The Felicity is, when any one is fo happy as to find out and follow what is the proper Bent of his Genius, and turn all his Endeavours to exert himfelf according as that prompts him. Inftead of this, which is an innocent Method of enjoying a Man's felf, and turning out of the general Tracts wherein you have Crouds of Rivals, there are thofe who purfue their own way out of a Sournefs and Spirit of Contradiction: Thefe Men do every Thing which they are able to fupport, as if Guilt and Impunity could not go together. They chufe a Thing only because another difTikes it; and affect forfooth an inviolable Conftancy in Matters of no manner of Moment. Thus fometimes an old Fellow fhall wear this or that Sort of Cut in his Clothes with great Integrity, while all the reft of the World are degenerated into Buttons, Pockets and Loops unknown to their Ancestors. As infignificant as even this is, if it were fearched to the Bottom, you perhaps would find it not fincere, but that he is in the Fafhion in his Heart, and holds out from mere Obftinacy. But I am running from my intended Purpose, which was to celebrate a certain particular Manner of paffing away Life, and is a Contradiction to no Man, but a Refolution to contract none of the exorbitant Defires by which others are enflaved. The best way of feparating a Man's felf from the World, is to give up the Defire of being known to it. After a Man has preferved his Innocence, and performed all Duties incumbent upon him, his Time spent his own Way is what makes his Life differ from that of a Slave.

If they who affect Show and Pomp knew how many of their Spectators derided their trivial Taste, they would be very much less elated, and have an Inclination to examine the Merit of all they have to do with: They would foon find out that there are many who make a Figure below what their Fortune or Merit entitles them to, out of mere Choice, and an elegant Defire of Eafe and Difincumbrance. It would look like Romance to tell you in this Age of an old Man who is contented to pass for an Humourift, and one who does not understand the Figure he ought to make in the World, while he lives in a Lodging of Ten Shillings a Week with only one Servant: While he dreffes himself according to the Seafon in Cloth or in Stuff, and has no one neceffary Attention to any Thing but the Bell which calls to Prayers twice a Day. I fay it would look like a Fable to report that this Gentleman gives away all which is the Overplus of a great Fortune, by fecret Methods, to other Men. If he has not the Pomp of a numerous Train, and of Profeffors of Service to him, he has every Day he lives the Confcience that the Widow, the Fatherlefs, the Mourner, and the Stranger blefs his unfeen Hand in their Prayers. This Humourift gives up all the Compliments which People of his own Condition could make to him, for the Pleasures of helping the Afflicted, fupplying the Needy, and befriending the Neglected. This Humourift keeps to himfelf much more than he wants, and gives a vast Refufe of his Superfluities to purchafe Heaven, and by freeing others from the Temptations of Worldly Want, to carry a Retinue with him thither.

OF all Men who affect living in a particular Way,' next to this admirable Character, I am the most enamoured of Irus, whofe Condition will not admit of fuch Largeffes, and perhaps would not be capable of making them, if it were. Irus, tho' he is now turn'd of Fifty, has not appeared in the World, in his real Character, fince five and twenty, at which Age he ran out a fmall Patrimony, and spent fome Time after with Rakes who had lived upon him: A Course of ten Years time paffed in all the little Alleys, By-Paths, and fometimes open Taverns and Streets of this Town, gave Irus a perfect Skill in judging of the Inclinations of Mankind, and acting accordingly.

C 4.

cordingly. He feriously confidered he was poor, and the general Horror which moft Men have of all who are in that Condition. Irus judg'd very rightly, that while he could keep his Poverty a Secret, he fhould not feel the Weight of it; he improved this Thought into an Affectation of Clofenefs and Covetoufnefs. Upon this one Principle he refolved to govern his future Life; and in the thirty fixth Year of his Age he repaired to Long-lane, and looked upon feveral Dreffes which hung there deferted by their first Masters, and expofed to the purchase of the beft Bidder. At this Place he exchanged his gay Shabbiness of Clothes fit for a much younger Man, to warm ones that would be decent for a much older one. Irus came out throughly equipped from Head to Foot, with a little oaken Cane in the Form of a fubftantial Man that did not mind his Drefs, turned of fifty. He had at this Time fifty Pounds in ready Money; and in this Habit, with this Fortune he took his prefent Lodging in St. John Street, at the Manfion-Houfe of a Taylor's Widow, who washes and can clear-ftarch his Bands. From that Time to this, he has kept the main Stock, without Alteration under or over, to the Value of five Pounds. He left off all his old Acquaintance to a Man, and all his Arts of Life, except the Play of Back-gammon, upon which he has more than bore his Charges. Irus has ever fince he came into this Neighbourhood, given all the Intimations, he skilfully could, of being a clofe Hunks worth Money: No Body comes to vifit him, he receives no Letters, and tells his Money Morning and Evening. He has, from the publick Papers, a Knowledge of what generally paffes, fhuns all Difcourfes of Money, but fhrugs his Shoulder when you talk of Securities; he denies his being rich with the Air, which all do who are vain of being fo: He is the Oracle of a Neighbouring Juftice of Peace, who meets him at the Coffee-houfe; the Hopes that what he has must come to Somebody, and that he has no Heirs, have that Effect where-ever he is known, that he every Day has three or four Invitations to dine at different Places, which he generally takes care to chufe in fuch a manner, as not to feem inclined to the richer Man. All the young Men refpe&t him, and fay he is juft the fame Man he was when they were Boys. He ufes no Artifice in the World, but

make

makes ufe of Mens Designs upon him to get a Maintenance out of them. This he carries on by a certain Peevifhnefs, (which he acts very well) that no one would believe could poffibly enter into the Head of a poor Fellow. His Mien, his Drefs, his Carriage, and his Language are fuch, that you would be at a Lofs to guess whether in the Active Part of his Life he had been a fenfible Citizen, or Scholar that knew the World. Thefe are the great Circumftances in the Life of Irus, and thus does he pafs away his Days a Stranger to Mankind; and at his Death, the worft that will be faid of him will be, that he got by every Man who had Expectations from him, more than he had to leave him.

I have an Inclination to print the following Letters; for that I have heard the Author of them has fomewhere or other feen me, and by an excellent Faculty in Mimickry my Correspondents tell me he can affume my Air, and give my Taciturnity a Slyness which diverts more than any Thing I could fay if I were prefent. Thus I am glad my Silence is atoned for to the good Company in Town. He has carried his Skill in Imitation fo far, as to have forged a Letter from my Friend Sir ROGER in fuch a manner, that any one but I who am thoroughly acquainted with him, would have taken it for genuine.

Mr. SPECTATOK,

HAVING obferved in Lily's Grammar how sweetly Bacchus and Apollo run in a Verfe: I have (to preferve the Amity between them) call'd in Bacchus to the Aid of my Profeffion of the Theatre. So that while fome People of Quality are befpeaking Plays of me to be acted upon fuch a Day, and others, Hogfheads for their Houfes against fuch a Time; I am wholly employ'd in the agreeable Service of Wit and Wine: Sir, I have fent you Sir Roger de Coverley's Letter to me, which pray comply with in Favour of the Bumper Tavern. Be kind, for you know a Player's utmost Pride is the Approbation of the SPECTATOR.

I am your Admirer, tho' unknown,

Richard Eftcourt.

To Mr. Eftcourt at his Houfe in Covent-Garden. Coverly, December the 18th, 1711.

Old Comical Ones,

T

HE Hogfheads of Neat Port came fafe, and have gotten the good Reputation in thefe Parts; and I am glad to hear, that a Fellow who has been laying out his Money ever fince he was born, for the meer Pleasure of Wine, has bethought himself of joining Profit and Pleasure together. Our Sexton (poor Man) having received Strength from thy Wine fince his fit of the Gout, is hugely taken with it: He fays it is given by Nature for the Ufe of Families, that no Steward's Table can be without it, that it ftrengthens Digestion, excludes Surfeits, Fevers and Phyfick; which green Wines of any kind can't do. Pray get a pure fnug Room, and I hope next Term to help fill your Bumper with our People of the Club; but you must have no Bells ftirring when the Spectator comes; I forbore ringing to Dinner while he was down with me in the Country. Thank you for the little Hams and Portugal Onions; pray keep fome always by you. You know my Supper is only good Cheshire Cheese, beft Muftard, a golden Pippin, attended with a Pipe of John Sly's Beft. Sir Harry has ftoln all your Songs, and tells the Story of the 5th of November to Perfection.

Yours to ferve you,

Roger de Coverley.

We've loft cld John fince you were here.

T

Thursday,