. shuts his book fairly, shows he has no notes in his bible, opens both palms, and shows all is fair there too. Thus, with a decisive air, my young man goes on without hesitation; and though from the beginning to the end of his pretty discourse, he has not used one proper gesture; yet, at the conclusion, the church-warden pulls his gloves from off his hands; 'Pray, who is this extraordinary young man?' Thus, the force of action is such, that it is more prevalent, even when improper, than all the reason and argument in the world without it. This gentleman concluded his discourse by saying, I do not doubt but if our preachers would learn to speak, and our readers to read, within six month's time, we should not have a dissenter within a mile of a church in Great Britain.' From my own Apartment, September 9. I have a letter from a young fellow, who complains to me that he was bred a mercer, and is now just out of his time; but, unfortunately (for he has no manner of education suitable to his present estate) an uncle has left him one thousand pounds per annum.' The young man is sensible, that he is so spruce, that he fears he shall never be genteel as long as he lives; but applies himself to me, to know what methods to take, to help his air, and be a fine gentleman. He says, that several of those ladies who were formerly his customers, visit his mother on purpose to fall in his way, and fears he shall be obliged to marry against his will; for,' says he, if any of them should ask me, I shall not be able to deny her. I am,' says he further, utterly at a loss how to deal with them; for though I was the most pert creature in the world when I was foreman, and could hand a woman of the first quality to her coach as well as her own gentleman-usher, I am now quite out of my way, and speechless in their company. They commend my modesty to my face. No one scruples to say, I should certainly make the best husband in the world, a man of my sober education. Mrs. Would-be watches all opportunities to be alone with me; therefore, good Mr. Bickerstaff, here are my writings inclosed; if you can find any flaw in my title, so as it may go to the next heir, who goes to St. James's coffee-house, and White's, and could enjoy it, I should be extremely well pleased with two thousand pounds to set up my trade, and live in a way I know I should become, rather than be laughed at all my life among too good company. If you could send for my cousin, and persuade him to take the estate on these terms, and let nobody know it, you would extremely oblige me.' Upon first sight, I thought this a very whimsical proposal; however, upon more mature consideration, I could not but admire the young gentleman's prudence and good sense; for there is nothing so irksome as living in a way a man knows he does not become. I consulted Mr. Obadiah Greenhat* on this occasion, and he is so well pleased with the man, that he has half a * Mr. Obadiah Greenhat means Addison. mind to take the estate himself; but, upon second thoughts, he proposed this expedient: 'I should be very willing,' said he, 'to keep the estate where it is, if we could make the young man any way easy; therefore, I humbly propose, he should take to drinking for one halfyear, and make a sloven of him, and from thence begin his education a-new: for it is a maxim, that one who is ill-taught is in a worse condition than he who is wholly ignorant; therefore a spruce mercer is farther off the air of a fine gentleman, than a downright clown. To make our patient any thing better, we must unmake him what he is.' I indeed proposed to flux him; but Greenhat answered, that if he recovered, he would be as prim and feat as ever he was.' Therefore he would have it his way, and our friend is to drink until he is carbuncled and tun-bellied; after which, we will send him down to smoke and be buried with his ancestors in Derbyshire. I am, indeed, desirous he should have his life in the estate, because he has such a just sense of himself and his abilities, as to know that it is an unhappiness to him to be a man of fortune. This youth seems to understand, that a gentleman's life is that of all others the hardest to pass through with propriety of behaviour; for though he has a support without art or labour, yet his manner of enjoying that circumstance, is a thing to be considered; and you see, among men who are honoured with the common appellation of gentlemen, so many contradictions to that character, that it is the utmost ill-fortune to bear it: for which reason, I am obliged to change the circumstances of several about this town. Harry Lacker is so very exact in his dress, that I shall give his estate to his younger brother, and make him a dancing-master. Nokes Lightfoot is so nimble, and values himself so much upon it, that I have thoughts of making him a huntsman to a pack of beagles, and giving his land to somebody that will stay upon it. Now I am upon the topic of becoming what we enjoy, I forbid all persons who are not of the first quality, or, who do not bear some important office that requires so much distinction, to go to Hyde-Park with six horses; for I cannot but esteem it the highest insolence. Therefore, hereafter no man shall do it merely because he is able, without any other pretension. But, what may serve all purposes quite as well, it shall be allowed all such who think riches the chief distinction, to appear in the ring with two horses only, and a rent-roll hanging out of each side of their coach. This is a thought of Mr. Greenhat's, who designs very soon to publish a sumptuary discourse upon the subject of equipage, wherein he will give us rules on that subject, and assign the proper duties and qualifications of masters and servants, as well as that of husbands and wives; with a treatise of economy without doors or a complete art of appearing in the world. This will be very useful to all who are suddenly rich, or are ashamed of being poor. Sunt certa piacula, quæ te Ter pure lecto poterunt recreare libello. Hor. i. Ep. i. 36. I have notice of a new pack of dogs, of quite | wearing red-heeled-shoes, and at the same time another sort than hitherto mentioned. I have was so indulgent as to connive at him for fournot an exact account of their way of hunting, teen days, because I would give him the wearthe following letter giving only a bare notice ing of them out; but, after all this, I am inof them. formed he appeared yesterday with a new pair of the same sort. I have no better success with 'September 7. 'SIR-There are another pack of dogs to be disposed of, who kennel about Charing-cross, at the Old Fat Dog's, at the corner of Buckingham-court, near Spring-garden: two of them are said to be whelped in Alsatia,* now in ruins; but they, with the rest of the pack, are as pernicious as if the old kennel had never been bro Mr. What-d'ye-call, as to his buttons; Stentor still roars; and box and dice rattle as loud as walks about at noon day, and Esculapius thinks they did before I writ against them. Partridge of adding a new lace to his livery. However, before men's eyes, and let them answer for goI must still go on in laying these enormities My province is much larger than at first sight men would imagine, and I shall lose no part of my jurisdiction, which extends not only to futurity, but also is a retrospect to things past; and the behaviour of persons, who have long ago acted their parts, is as much liable to examimy nation, as that of my own contemporaries. ken down. The ancients distinguished this sorting on in their practice. PHILANTHROPOS.' St. James's Coffee-house, September 9. We have received letters from the duke of Marlborough's camp, which bring us further particulars of the great and glorious victory obtained over the enemy on the eleventh instant, N. S. The number of the wounded and prisoners is much greater than was expected from our first account. The day was doubtful until after twelve of the clock; but the enemy made little resistance after their first line on the left began to give way. An exact narration of the whole affair is expected next post. The French have had two days allowed them to bury their dead, and carry off their wounded men, upon parole. Those regiments of Great Britain, which suffered most, are ordered into garrison, and fresh troops commanded to march into the field. The states have also directed troops to march out of the towns, to relieve those who lost so many men in attacking the second entrenchment of the French, in the plain between Sart and Jansart. In order to put the whole race of mankind in their proper distinctions, according to the opin ion their cohabitants conceived of them, I have, with very much care and depth of meditation, thought fit to erect a chamber of Fame, and established certain rules, which are to be observed in admitting members into this illustrious society. In this chamber of Fame there are to be three tables but of different lengths; the first is to conand the third a hundred. This is reckoned to tain exactly twelve persons; the second, twenty; be the full number of those who have any competent share of fame. At the first of these tables are to be placed, in their order, the twelve most famous persons in the world; not with regard to the things they are famous for, but according to the degree of their fame, whether in valour, wit, or learning. Thus, if a scholar be him. Neither must any preference be given to more famous than a soldier, he is to sit above virtue, if the person be not equally famous. When the first table is filled, the next in renown must be seated at the second, and so on in like manner to the number of twenty; as also in hundred. At these tables, no regard is to be had the same order at the third, which is to hold a to seniority: for if Julius Cæsar shall be judged more famous than Romulus and Scipio, he must have the precedence. No person who has not been dead a hundred years must be offered to a place at any of these tables; and because this is altogether a lay-society, and that sacred persons move upon greater motives than that of fame, no persons celebrated in holy writ, or any ecclesiastical men whatsoever, are to be introduced here. At the lower end of the room is to be a sidetable for persons of great fame, but dubious existence; such as Hercules, Theseus, Æneas, Achilles, Hector, and others. But because it is apprehended, that there may be great contention about precedence, the proposer humbly desires the opinion of the learned, towards his assistance that none may have just occasion of offence. in placing every person according to his rank, The merits of the cause shall be judged by plurality of voices. For the more impartial execution of this im portant affair, it is desired that no man will offer | It is humbly submitted to consideration, whether the project would not be better if the persons of true fame meet in a middle room, those of dubious existence in an upper room, and those of evil fame in a lower dark room. It is to be noted, that no historians are to be admitted at any of these tables; because they are appointed to conduct the several persons to their seats, and are to be made use of as ushers to the assemblies. tion, that you are not to reign above four months and odd days longer. Therefore, I must desire you to raise and friz your hair a little, for it is downright insolence to be thus handsome without art; and you will forgive me for entreating you to do now out of compassion, what you must soon do out of necessity.-I am, madam, your most obedient, and most humble servant.' This person dresses just as she did before I writ; as does also the lady to whom I addressed the following billet the same day : eye, 'MADAM,-Let me beg of you to take off the patches at the lower end of your left cheek, and I will allow two more under left your which will contribute more to the symmetry of your face; except you would please to remove the ten black atoms on your ladyship's chin and wear one large patch instead of them. If so, you may properly enough retain the three patches above mentioned.-I am, &c.' This, I thought, had all the civility and rea I call upon the learned world to send me their assistance towards this design, it being a matter of too great moment for any one person to de-son in the world in it; but whether my letters are intercepted, or whatever it is, the lady patches termine. But I do assure them, their lists shall be examined with great fidelity, and those that as she used to do. It is to be observed by all the charitable society, as an instruction in their are exposed to the public, made with all the epistles, that they tell people of nothing but what caution imaginable. is in their power to mend. I shall give another instance of this way of writing: two sisters in Essex-street are eternally gaping out of the window, as if they knew not the value of time, or would call in companions. Upon which I writ the following line: In the mean time, while I wait for these lists, I am employed in keeping people in a right way to avoid the contrary to fame and applause; to wit, blame, and derision. For this end, I work upon that useful project of the penny-post, by the benefit of which it is proposed, that a charitable society be established: from which society there shall go every day, circular letters to all parts within the bills of mortality, to tell people of their faults in a friendly and private manner, whereby they may know what the world thinks of them, before it is declared to the world that they are thus faulty. This method cannot fail of universal good consequences: for, it is further added, that they who will not be reformed by it, must be contented to see the several letters printed, which were not regarded by them, that when they will not take private reprehension, they I am may be tried further by a public one. very sorry I am obliged to print the following epistles of that kind, to some persons, and the more because they are of the fair sex. 'DEAR CREATURES,-On the receipt of this, shut your casements.' But I went by yesterday, and found them still at the window. What can a man do in this case, but go on, and wrap himself up in his own integrity, with satisfaction only in this melancholy truth, that virtue is its own reward, and that if no one is the better for his admonitions, yet he is himself the more virtuous in that he gave those advices? St. James's Coffee-house, September 12. Letters of the thirteenth instant from the duke of Marlborough's camp at Havre, advise, that the necessary dispositions were made for openThis went on Friday last to a very fine ladying the trenches before Mons. The direction MADAM,-I am highly sensible that there is nothing of so tender a nature as the reputation and conduct of ladies; and that when there is the least stain got into their fame, it is hardly ever to be washed out. When I have said this, you will believe I am extremely concerned to hear, at every visit I make, that your manner of wearing your hair is a mere affectation of beauty, as well as that your neglect of powder has been a common evil to your sex. It is to you an advantage to show that abundance of fine tresses: but I beseech you to consider, that the force of your beauty, and the imitation of you, costs Eleonora great sums of money to her tirewoman for false locks, besides what is allowed to her maid for keeping the secret, that she is gray. I must take leave to add to this admoni of the siege is to be committed to the prince of Orange, who designed to take his post accordingly, with thirty battalions and thirty squadrons, on the day following. On the seventeenth lieutenant-general Cadogan* set out for Brussels, to hasten the ammunition and artillery which is to be employed in this enterprise; and the confederate army was extended from the Haisne to the Troulle, in order to cover the siege. The loss of the confederates in the late battle is not exactly known; but it appears, by a list trans *No officer was so much relied upon by the duke of Marlborough. He had the care of making out almost every camp during the war in the Netherlands and Germany, which he executed so skillfully, that it is observed, the duke was never surprised or attacked in camp, during all that war. No. 68.] Thursday, September 15, 1709. Quicquid agunt homines nostri est farrago libelli. Juv. Sat. i. 85, 86. Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream, Our motley paper seizes for its theme. P. mitted to the states-general, that the number of the killed and wounded in their service amounts to above eight thousand. It is computed, that the English have lost fifteen hundred men, and the rest of the allies above five thousand, including the wounded. The states-general have taken the most speedy and effectual measures for reinforcing their troops; and it is expected, that in eight or ten days the army will be as numerous as before the battle. The affairs in Italy afford us nothing remarkable; only that it is hoped, the difference between the courts of Vienna and Turin will be speedily accommodated. Letters from Poland present us with a near prospect of seeing king Augustus re-established on the throne, all parties being very industrious to re-juries of time, and recommended themselves so concile themselves to his interests. Will's Coffee-house, September 12. Of all the pretty arts in which our modern writers excel, there is not any which is more to be recommended to the imitation of beginners, than the skill of transition from one subject to another. I know not whether I make myself well understood; but it is certain, that the way of stringing a discourse, used in the Mercure Gallant, the Gentleman's Journal,* and other learned writings; not to mention how naturally things present themselves to such as harangue in pulpits, and other occasions which occur to the learned, are methods worthy commendation. I shall attempt this style myself in a few lines. Suppose I was discoursing upon the king of Sweden's passing the Boristhenes. The Boristhenes is a great river, and puts me in mind of the Danube and the Rhine. The Danube I cannot think of, without reflecting on that unhappy prince who had such fair territories on the banks of it; I mean the duke of Bavaria, who, by our last letters, is retired from Mons. Mons is as strong a fortification as any which has no citadel: and places which are not completely fortified are, methinks, lessons to princes that they are not omnipotent, but liable to the strokes of fortune. But as all princes are subject to such calamities, it is the part of men of letters to guard them from the observations of all small writers; for which reason, I shall conclude my present remarks, by publishing the following advertisement, to be taken notice of by all who dwell in the suburbs of learning. 'Whereas the king of Sweden has been so unfortunate as to receive a wound in his heel; we do hereby prohibit all epigrammatists in either language and both universities, as well as all other poets, of what denomination soever, to make any mention of Achilles having received his death's wound in the same part. 'We do likewise forbid all comparisons in coffee-houses between Alexander the Great and the said king of Sweden, and from making any parallels between the death of Patkul and Philotas; we being very apprehensive of the reflections that several politicians have ready by them to produce on this occasion, and being willing, as much as in us lies, to free the town from all impertinences of this nature.' From my own Apartment, September 14. THE progress of our endeavours will of necessity be very much interrupted, except the learned world will please to send their lists to the chamber of Fame with all expedition. There is nothing can so much contribute to create a noble emulation in our youth, as the honourable mention of such whose actions have outlived the in far to the world, that it is become learning to know the least circumstance of their affairs. It is a great incentive to see, that some men have raised themselves so highly above their fellowcreatures, that the lives of ordinary men are spent in inquiries after the particular actions of the most illustrious. True it is, that without this impulse to fame and reputation, our industry would stagnate, and that lively desire of pleasing each other, die away. This opinion was so established in the heathen world, that their sense of living appeared insipid, except their being was enlivened with a consciousness that they were esteemed by the rest of the world. Upon examining the proportion of men's fame for my table of twelve, I thought it no ill way (since I had laid it down for a rule, that they were to be ranked simply as they were famous, without regard to their virtue,) to ask my sister Jenny's advice; and particularly mentioned to her the name of Aristotle. She immediately told me, he was a very great scholar, and that she had read him at the boarding-school. She certainly means a trifle, sold by the hawkers called Aristotle's Problems.' But this raised a great scruple in me, whether a fame increased by imposition of others is to be added to his account, or that these excrescences, which grow out of his real reputation, and give encourage. ment to others to pass things under the covert of his name, should be considered in giving him his seat in the chamber? This punctilio is referred to the learned. In the meantime, so illnatured are mankind, that I believe I have names already sent me sufficient to fill up my lists for the dark room, and every one is apt enough to send in their accounts of ill-deservers. This malevolence does not proceed from a real dislike of virtue, but a diabolical prejudice against it, which makes men willing to destroy what they care not to imitate. Thus you see the greatest characters among your acquaintance, and those you live with, are traduced by all below them in virtue, who never mention them but with an exception. However, I believe I shall not give the world much trouble about filling my tables for those of evil fame; for I have some thoughts of clapping up the sharpers there, as fast as I can lay hold of them. At present, I am employed in looking over the several notices which I have received of their manner of dexterity, and the way at dice of * Published about the beginning of the last century, making all rugg, as the cant is. The whole art in 4to. of securing a die has lately been sent me, by a of The fair sex, who are made of man and not of earth, have a more delicate humanity than we have; and pity is the most common cause of their tears: for as we are inwardly composed of an aptitude to every circumstance of life, and every thing that befalls any one person might have happened to any other of the human race; self-love, and a sense of the pain we ourselves should suffer in the circumstances of any whom we pity, is the cause of that compassion. Such a reflection in the breast of a woman, immediately inclines her to tears; but in a man, it makes him think how such a one ought to act on that occasion suitably to the dignity of his nature. Thus a woman is ever moved for those whom she hears lament, and a man for those whom he observes to suffer in silence. It is a man's own behaviour in the circumstances he is under, which procures him the esteem of others, and not merely the affliction itself which de person who was of the fraternity, but is disabled by the loss of a finger; by which means he cannot practise that trick as he used to do. But I am very much at a loss how to call some of the fair sex, who are accomplices with the Knights of Industry; for my metaphorical dogs are easily enough understood; but the feminine gender of dogs has so harsh a sound, that we know not how to name it. But I am credibly informed, that there are female dogs as voracious as the males, and make advances to young fellows, without any other design but coming to a familiarity with their purses. I have also long lists persons of condition, who are certainly of the same regimen with these banditti, and instrumental to their cheats upon undiscerning men of their own rank. These add their good reputation to carry on the impostures of others, whose very names would else be defence enough | against falling into their hands. But, for the honour of our nation, these shall be unmention-mands our pity; for we never give a man that ed; provided we hear no more of such practices, and that they shall not from henceforward suffer the society of such as they know to be the common enemies of order, discipline and virtue. If it appear that they go on in encouraging them, they must be proceeded against according to the severest rules of history, where all is to be laid before the world with impartiality, and without respect to persons, 'So let the stricken deer go weep.' Will's Coffee-house, September 14. I find left here for me the following epistle : 'SIR,-Having lately read your discourse about the family of Trubies,* wherein you observed, that there are some who fall into laugh ter out of a certain benevolence in their temper, and not out of the ordinary motive, viz. contempt, and triumph over the imperfections of others; I have conceived a good idea of your knowledge of mankind. And, as you have a tragi-comic genius, I beg the favour of you to give us your thoughts of a quite different effect, which also is caused by other motives than what are commonly taken notice of. What I would have you treat of, is the cause of shedding tears. I desire you would discuss it a little, with observations upon the various occasions which provoke us to that expression of our concern, &c. To obey this complaisant gentleman, I know no way so short as examining the various touches of my own bosom, on several occurrences in a long life, to the evening of which I am arrived, after as many various incidents as any body has met with. I have often reflected, that there is a great similitude in the motions of the heart in mirth and in sorrow; and I think the usual occasion of the latter, as well as the former, is something which is sudden and unexpected. The mind has not a sufficient time to recollect its force, and immediately gushes into tears before we can utter ourselves by speech or complaint. The most notorious causes of these drops from our eyes are pity, sorrow, joy, and reconciliation. * Tatler, No. 63. passion which he falls into for himself. He that commends himself never purchases our applause; nor he who bewails himself, our pity. Going through an alley the other day, I observed a noisy impudent beggar bawl out, 'that he was wounded in a merchant-man; that he had lost his poor limbs; and showed a leg clouted up. All that passed by made what haste they could out of his sight and hearing; but a poor fellow at the end of the passage, with a rusty coat, a melancholy air, and soft voice, desired them to look upon a man not used to beg.' The latter received the charity of almost every one that went by. The strings of the heart, which are to be touched to give us compassion, are not so played on but by the finest hand. We see in tragical representations, it is not the pomp of language, nor the magnificence of dress, in which the passion is wrought, that touches sensible spirits; but something of a plain and simple nature, which breaks in upon our souls by that sympathy which is given us for our mutual good-will and service. In the tragedy of Macbeth,' where Wilks acts the part of a man whose family has been murdered in his absence, the wildness of his passion, which is run over in a torrent of ealamitous circumstances, does but raise my spirits, and give me the alarm: but when he skilfully seems to be out of breath, and is brought too low to say more; and upon a second reflection cries only, wiping his eyes, "What, both children! Both, both my children gone!' there is no resisting a sorrow which seems to have cast about for all the reasons possible for its consolaThere is not one tion, but has no resource. left; but both, both are murdered!' such sudden starts from the thread of the discourse, and a plain sentiment expressed in an artless way, are the irresistible strokes of eloquence and poetry. The same great master, Shakspeare, can afford us instances of all the places where our souls are accessible; and ever commands our tears. it is to be observed, that he draws them from some unexpected source, which seems not wholly of a piece with the discourse. Thus, when Brutus and Cassius had a debate in the tragedy of 'Cæsar,' and rose to warm language against each other, insomuch that it had almost come to But |