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of a tall man with a hat and feather, who gives | his first minister, that stands just before him, a huge kick; the minister gives the kick to the next before; and so to the end of the stage. In this moral and practical jest, you are made to understand, that there is, in an absolute government, no gratification but giving the kick you receive from one above you to one below you. This is performed to a grave and melancholy air; but on a sudden the tune moves quicker, and the whole company fall into a circle, and take hands; and then, at a certain sharp note, they move round, and kick as kick can. This latter performance he makes to be the representation of a free state; where, if you all mind your steps, you may go round and round very jollily, with a motion pleasant to yourselves and those you dance with; nay, if you put yourselves out, at the worst, you only kick and are kicked, like friends and equals.

From my own Apartment, May 4. Of all the vanities under the sun, I confess that of being proud of one's birth is the great

est. At the same time, since in this unreasonable age, by the force of prevailing custom, things in which men have no hand are imputed to them; and that I am used by some people, as if Isaac Bickerstaff, though I write myself Esquire, was nobody; to set the world right in that particular, I shall give you my genea logy, as a kinsman of ours has sent it me from the herald's office. It is certain, and observed by the wisest writers, that there are women who are not nicely chaste, and men not severely honest, in all families; therefore let those who may be apt to raise aspersions upon ours, please to give us as impartial an account of their own;

and we shall be satisfied. The business of

heralds is a matter of so great nicety, that, to avoid mistakes, I shall give you my cousin's letter verbatim, without altering a syllable.

DEAR COUSIN," Since you have been pleased to make yourself so famous of late, by your ingenious writings, and some time ago by your learned predictions; since Partridge, of immortal memory, is dead and gone, who, poetical as he was, could not understand his own poetry; and philomatical as he was, could not read his own destiny; since the pope, the king of France, and great part of his court, are either literally or metaphorically defunct; since, I say, these things (not foretold by any one but yourself) have come to pass after so surprising a manner; it is with no small concern I see the original of the Staffian race so little known in the world as it is at this time; for which reason, as you have employed your studies in astronomy, and the occult sciences, so I, my mother being a Welch woman, dedicated mine to genealogy, particularly that of our own family, which, for its antiquity and number, may challenge any in Great Britain. The Staffs are originally of Staffordshire, which took its name from them: the first that I find of the Staffs was one Jacobstaff, a famous and renowned astronomer, who, by Dorothy his wife had issue seven sons: viz. Bickerstaff, Longstaff, Wagstaff, Quarterstaff, Whitestaff, Fal. staff, and Tipstaff. He also had a younger

brother, who was twice married, and had five
sons: viz. Distaff, Pikestaff, Mopstaff, Broom-
staff, and Raggedstaff. As for the branch from
whence you spring, I shall say very little of it,
only that it is the chief of the Staffs, and called
Bickerstaff, quasi Biggerstaff; as much as to
say, the Great Staff, or Staff of Staffs; and that
it has applied itself to astronomy with great suc
cess, after the example of our aforesaid fore-
father. The descendants from Longstaff, the
second son, were a rakish disorderly sort of
people, and rambled from one place to another,
until, in the time of Harry the Second, they
settled in Kent, and were called Long-tails,
from the long tails which were sent them as a
punishment for the murder of Thomas-a-Becket,
as the legends say. They have always been
sought after by the ladies; but whether it be to
show their aversion to popery, or their love to
miracles, I cannot say. The Wagstaffs are a
merry, thoughtless sort of people, who have al-
ways been opinionated of their own wit; they
have turned themselves mostly to poetry. This
the poorest. The Quarterstaffs are most of them
is the most numerous branch of our family, and
prize-fighters or deer-stealers; there have been
so many of them hanged lately, that there are
very few of that branch of our family left. The
Whitestaffs are all courtiers, and have had
very considerable places. There have been some
of them of that strength and dexterity, that five
hundred† of the ablest men in the kingdom have
often tugged in vain to pull a staff out of their
hands. The Falstaffs are strangely given to
whoring and drinking; there are abundance of
them in and about London. One thing is very
remarkable of this branch, and that is, there are
wicked stick of wood of this name in Harry the
just as many women as men in it. There was a
Fourth's time, one sir John Falstaff. As for
Tipstaff, the youngest son, he was an honest
fellow; but his sons, and his sons' sons, have all
of them been the veriest rogues living; it is
this unlucky branch that has stocked the nation
with that swarm of lawyers, attorneys, serjeants,
and bailiffs, with which the nation is over-run.
Tipstaff, being a seventh son, used to cure the
king's-evil; but his rascally descendants are so
far from having that healing quality, that, by a
touch upon the shoulder, they give a man such
an ill habit of body, that he can never come
abroad afterwards. This is all I know of the
line of Jacobstaff; his younger brother Isaac-
staff, as I told you before, had five sons, and was
married twice: his first wife was a Staff (for
they did not stand upon false heraldry in those
days) by whom he had one son, who, in process
of time, being a schoolmaster and well read in
the Greek, called himself Distaff, or Twicestaff,
He was not very rich, so he put his children
out to trades; and the Distaffs have ever since
been employed in the woollen and linen manu-
factures, except myself, who am a genealogist,
Pikestaff, the eldest son by the second venter,
was a man of business, a downright plodding

*An allusion to the staff carried by the first lord of the treasury, afterwards humourously compared by Steele to "an emmet distinguished from his fellows by

a white straw."

†The House of Commons,

fellow, and withal so plain, that he became a proverb. Most of this family are at present in the army. Raggedstaff was an unlucky boy, and used to tear his cloathes in getting birds' nests, and was always playing with a tame bear his father kept. Mopstaff fell in love with one of his father's maids, and used to help her to clean the house. Broomstaff was a chimney-sweeper. The Mopstaffs and Broomstaffs are naturally as civil people as ever went out of doors; but alas! if they once get into ill hands, they knock down all before them. Pilgramstaff ran away from his friends, and went strolling about the country; and Pipestaff was a wine-cooper. These two were the unlawful issue of Longstaff.

N. B. The Canes, the Clubs, the Cudgels, the Wands, the Devil upon two Sticks, and one Bread, that goes by the name of Staff of Life, are none of our relations. I am, dear cousin, your humble servant,

'D. DISTAFF.'

From the Herald's Office, May 1, 1709.

St. James's Coffee-house, May 4.

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As political news is not the principal subject WHEN a man has engaged to keep a stage on which we treat, we are so happy as to have coach, he is obliged, whether he has passengers no occasion for that art of cookery which our or not, to set out; thus it fares with us weekly brother newsmongers so much excel in; as ap- historians; but indeed, for my particular, I hope, pears by their excellent and inimitable manner I shall soon have little more to do in this work, of dressing up a second time for your taste the than to publish what is sent me from such as same dish which they gave you the day before, have leisure and capacity for giving delight, and in case there come over no new pickles from being pleased in an elegant manner. The preHolland. Therefore, when we have nothing to sent grandeur of the British nation might make say to you from courts and camps, we hope stillus expect, that we should rise in our public dito give you somewhat new and curious from ourselves; the women of our house, upon occasion, being capable of carrying on the business, according to the laudable custom of the wives in Holland; but, without farther preface, take what we have not mentioned in our former re-ards call themselves free-thinkers; and gamelations.

Letters from Hanover of the thirtieth of the last month say, that the prince royal of Prussia arrived there on the fifteenth, and left that court on the second of this month, in pursuit of his journey to Flanders, where he makes the ensuing campaign. Those advices add, that the young prince Nassau, hereditary governor of Friesland, celebrated, on the twenty-sixth of the last month, his marriage with the beauteous princess of Hesse-Cassel, with a pomp and magnificence suitable to their age and quality.

us,

Letters from Paris say, his most Christian majesty retired to Marley on the first instant, N. S. and our last advices from Spain inform that the prince of Asturias had made his public entry into Madrid in great splendour. The duke of Anjou has given Don Joseph Hartado de Amaraga the government of Terra firma de Veragua, and the presidency of Panama in America. They add, that the forces commanded by the marquis de Bay have been reinforced by six battalions of Spanish Walloon guards. Letters from Lisbon advise, that the army of the king of Portugal was at Elvas on the twenty-second of the last month, and would decamp on the twenty-fourth, in order to march upon the enemy who lay at Badajos.

Yesterday, at four in the morning, his grace

versions, and manner of enjoying life, in proportion to our advancement in glory and power. Instead of that, survey this town, and you will find rakes and debauchees are your men of pleasure: thoughtless atheists and illiterate drunk

sters, banterers, biters, swearers, and twenty new-born insects more, are, in their several species, the modern men of wit. Hence it is, that a man, who has been out of town but one half year, has lost the language, and must have some friend to stand by him, and keep him in countenance for talking common sense. To-day I saw a short interlude at White's of this nature, which I took notes of, and put together as well as I could in a public place. The persons of the drama are Pip, the last gentleman that has been made so at cards; Trimmer, a person half undone at them, and who is now between a cheat and a gentleman; Acorn, an honest Englishman of good plain sense and meaning; and Mr. Friendly, a reasonable man of the town.

White's Chocolate-house, May 5.

Enter PIP, TRIMMER, and ACORN.

Ac. What is the matter, gentlemen? what! take no notice of an old friend?

Pip. Pox on it! do not talk to me, I am voweled by the count and cursedly out of humour.

Ac. Voweled! pry'thee, Trimmer, what does he mean by that?

Trim. Have a care, Harry, speak softly; do

not show your ignorance :-if you do, they | will bite you wherever they meet you, they are such cursed curs-the present wits.

Ac. Bite me! what do you mean? Pip. Why do not you know what biting is? nay, you are in the right on it. However, one would learn it only to defend one's self against men of wit, as one would know the tricks of play, to be secure against the cheats. But do not you hear, Acorn, that report, that some potentates of the alliance have taken care of themselves exclusively of us?

Ac. How! heaven forbid! after all our glorious victories; all the expense of blood and trea

sure!

Pip. BITE.

Ac. Bite! how?

Trim. Nay, he has bit you fairly enough; that is certain.

Ac. Pox! I do not feel it-How? where?

[Exeunt Pip and Trimmer laughing. Ac. Ho! Mr. Friendly, your most humble servant; you heard what passed between those fine gentlemen and me. Pip complained to me, that he had been voweled; and they tell me I am bit.

Friend. It is now some time since several revolutions in the gay world had made the em. pire of the stage subject to very fatal convulsions, which were too dangerous to be cured by the skill of little king Oberon,* who then sat in the throne of it. The laziness of this prince threw him upon the choice of a person who was fit to spend his life in contentions, an able and profound attorney, to whom he mortgaged his whole empire. This Divitot is the most skilful of all politicians; he has a perfect art in being unintelligible in discourse, and uncomeatable in business. But he, having no understanding in this polite way, brought in upon us, to get in his money, ladder dancers, jugglers, and mountebanks, to strut in the place of Shakspeare's heroes, and Jonson's humorists. When the seat of wit was thus mortgaged without equity of redemption, an architect‡ arose, who has built the muse a new palace, but secured her no retinue; so that, instead of action there, we have been put off by song and dance. This latter help of sound has also begun to fail for want of voices; therefore the palace has since been put into the hands of a surgeon, who cuts any foreign fellow into a eunuch,§ and passes him upon us for a singer of Italy.

Friend. You are to understand, sir, that simplicity of behaviour, which is the perfection of good breeding and good sense, is utterly lost in the world; and in the room of it there are started a thousand little inventions, which men, barren of better things, take up in the place of it. Thus, for every character in conversation that used to please, there is an impostor put upon you. Him whom we allowed, formerly, for a certain pleasant subtilty, and natural way of giving you an unexpected hit, called a droll, is now mimicked by a biter, who is a dull fellow, that tells you a lie with a grave face, and laughs at you for knowing him no better than to believe him. Instead of that sort of companion who could rally you, and keep his countenance, until he made you fall into some little inconsistency of behaviour, at which you your-only by the grand elixir. self could laugh with him, you have the sneerer, who will keep you company from morning to night, to gather your follies of the day (which perhaps you commit out of confidence in him) and expose you in the evening to all the scorners in town. For your man of sense and free spirit, whose set of thoughts were built upon learning, reason, and experience, you have now an impudent creature made up of vice only, who supports his ignorance by his courage, and want of learning by contempt of it.

Ac. I will go out of town to-morrow. Friend. Things are come to this pass; and yet the world will not understand, that the theatre has much the same effect on the manners of the age, as the bank on the credit of the nation. Wit and spirit, humour and good sense, can never be revived, but under the government of those who are judges of such talents; who know, that whatever is put up in their stead, is but a short and trifling expedient, to support the appearance of them for a season. It is possible, a peace will give leisure to put these matters under new regulations, but, at present, all the assistance we can see towards our recovery is as far from giving us help, as a poultice is from performing what can be done

Ac. Dear sir, hold: what you have told me already of this change in conversation is too miserable to be heard with any delight; but, methinks, as these new creatures appear in the world, it might give an excellent field to writers for the stage, to divert us with the representation of them there.

Friend. No, no; as you say, there might be some hopes of redress of these grievances, if there were proper care taken of the theatre; but the history of that is yet more lamentable than that of the decay of conversation I gave you. Ac. Pray, sir, a little: I have not been in town these six years, until within this fortnight.

Will's Coffee-house, May 6.

According to our late design in the applauded verses on the morning, which you lately had from hence, we proceed to improve that just intention, and present you with other labours, made proper to the place in which they were written. The following poem comes from Copenhagen, and is as fine a winter-piece as we have ever had from any of the schools of the most learned painters. Such images as these give us a new pleasure in our sight, and fix

*Mr. Owen, or Mac Owen Swiney, was born in Ireland, and formerly a manager of Drury-lane theatre, and afterwards of the Queen's theatre in the Haymarket. After leaving that office, he resided in Italy several years, and at his return, procured a place in the customhouse, and was keeper of the king's mews. He died Oct. 2, 1754, and left his fortune to Mrs. Woffington. He was the author of several dramatic pieces.'

† Christopher Rich.

Sir John Vanbrugh.

John James Hegdegger, esq. styled here a surgeon, in allusion to the employment assigned to him: he had at that time the direction of the operas, as he had after

wards of the masquerades.

By Swift.

upon our minds traces of reflection, which ac- I decline giving you what I know; and apply company us whenever the like objects occur. In short, excellent poetry and description dwell upon us so agreeably, that all the readers of them are made to think, if not write, like men of wit. But it would be injury to detain you longer from this excellent performance, which is addressed to the earl of Dorset by Mr. Philips, the author of several choice poems in Mr. Tonson's new Miscellany.

Copenhagen, March 9, 1709.

From frozen climes, and endless tracts of snow,
From streams that northern winds forbid to flow,
What present shall the muse to Dorset bring,
Or how, so near the pole, attempt to sing?
The hoary winter here conceals from sight
All pleasing objects that to verse invite.
The hills and dales, and the delightful woods,
The flowery plains, and silver-streaming floods,
By snow disguised, in bright confusion lie,
And with one dazzling waste fatigue the eye.

No gentle-breathing breeze prepares the spring,
No birds within the desert region sing:
The ships unmoved the boisterous winds defy,
While rattling chariots o'er the ocean fly.
The vast leviathan wants room to play,
And spout his waters in the face of day,
The starving wolves along the main sea prowl,
And to the moon in icy valleys howl.
For many a shining league the level main
Here spreads itself into a glassy plain :
There solid billows of enormous size,
Alps of green ice, in wild disorder rise.

And yet but lately have I seen, e'en here,
The winter in a lovely dress appear.
Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasured snow,
Or winds began through hazy skies to blow,
At evening a keen eastern breeze arose;
And the descending rain unsullied froze.
Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew,
The ruddy morn disclosed at once to view
The face of nature in a rich disguise,
And brightened every object to my eyes:
For every shrub, and every blade of grass,

And every pointed thorn, seemed wrought in glass;
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorn's show,
While through the ice the crimson berries glow.
The thick-sprung reeds the watery marshes yield
Seem polished lances in a hostile field.
The stag, in limpid currents, with surprise,
Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise.
The spreading oak, the beech, and towering pine,
Glazed over, in the freezing æther shine.
The frighted birds the rattling branches shun,
That wave and glitter in the distant sun.

When, if a sudden gust of wind arise,
The brittle forest into atoms flies;
The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends,
And in a spangled shower the prospect ends;
Or, if a southern gale the region warm,
And by degrees unbind the wintery charm,
The traveller a miry country sees,

And journeys sad beneath the drooping trees.

Like some deluded peasant Merlin leads

the following verses of Mr. Dryden, in the
second part of Almanzor,' to the present cir-
cumstances of things, without discovering what
my knowledge in astronomy suggests to me :-
When empire in its childhood first appears,
Till grown more strong it thrusts and stretches out,
A watchful fate o'ersees its tender years:
And elbows all the kingdoms round about.
The place thus made for its first breathing free,
It moves again for ease and luxury :
Till, swelling by degrees, it has possest
The greater space, and now crowds up the rest.
When from behind there starts some petty state,
And pushes on its now unwieldly fate :
Then down the precipice of time it goes,
And sinks in minutes, which in ages rose.

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MUCH hurry and business has to-day perplexed me into a mood too thoughtful for going into company; for which reason, instead of the tavern, I went to Lincoln's Inn walks; and, having taken a round or two, I sat down, according to the allowed familiarity of these places, on a bench; at the other end of which sat a venerable gentleman, who, speaking with a very affable air,- Mr. Bickerstaff,' said he, 'I take it for a very great piece of good fortune that you have found me out.' 'Sir,' said I, 'I had never, that I know of, the honour of seeing you before.' 'That,' replied he, is what I have often lamented; but, I assure you, I have for many years done you good offices, without being observed by you; or else, when you had any little glimpse of my being concerned in an affair, you have fled from me, and shunned me like an enemy; but, however, the part I am to act in the world is such, that I am to go on in doing good, though I meet with never so many repulses, even from those I oblige.' This, thought I, shows a great good-nature, but little judgment in the person upon whom he confers his favours. He immediately took notice to me, that he observed by my countenance I thought him indiscreet in his beneficence, and proceeded to tell me his quality in the following manner: 'I know thee, Isaac, to be so well versed in the occult sciences, that I need not

Through fragrant bowers, and through delicious meads; much preface, or make long preparations to gain

While here enchanted gardens to him rise,

And airy fabrics there attract his eyes,
His wandering feet the magic paths pursue;
And while he thinks the fair illusion true,
The trackless scenes disperse in fluid air,

And woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear:
A tedious road the weary wretch returns,
And as he goes, the transient vision mourns.

From my own Apartment, May 6.

There has a mail this day arrived from Holland; but the matter, of the advices importing rather what gives us great expectations, than any positive assurances, I shall, for this time

your faith that there are airy beings who are employed in the care and attendance of men, as nurses are to infants, until they come to an age in which they can act of themselves. These beings are usually called amongst men, guardian-angels; and, Mr. Bickerstaff, I am to acquaint you, that I am to be yours for some time to come; it being our orders to vary our stations, and sometimes to have one patient under our protection, and sometimes another, with a power of assuming what shape we please, to ensnare our wards into their own good. I have of late been upon such hard duty, and

know you have so much work for me, that I get's cheeks, that she grew downright in love think fit to appear to you face to face, to desire with him; for, it is always to be understood, you will give me as little occasion for vigilance that a lady takes all you detract from the rest as you can.' 'Sir,' said I, it will be a great of her sex to be a gift to her. In a word, things instruction to me in my behaviour, if you please went so far, that I was dismissed, and she will to give me some account of your late employ- remember that evening, nine months from the ments, and what hardships or satisfactions you sixth of April, by a very remarkable token. The have had in them, that I may govern myself next, as I said, I went to, was a common swearaccordingly.' He answered, To give you an er: never was a creature so puzzled as myself, example of the drudgery we go through, I will when I came first to view his brain: half of it entertain you only with my three last stations; I was worn out, and filled up with mere expletives, was on the first of April last put to mortify a that had nothing to do with any other parts of great beauty, with whom I was a week; from the texture; therefore, when he called for his her went to a common swearer, and have been clothes in a morning, he would cry, John !'— last with a gamester. When I first came to my John does not answer. 'What a plague! nolady, I found my great work was to guard well body there? What the devil, and rot me, John, her eyes and ears; but her flatterers were so for a lazy dog as you are!' I knew no way to numerous, and the house, after the modern way, cure him, but by writing down all he said one so full of looking-glasses, that I seldom had her morning as he was dressing, and laying it besafe but in her sleep. Whenever we went fore him on the toilet when he came to pick his abroad, we were surrounded by an army of teeth. The last recital I gave him of what he enemies when a well-made man appeared, he said for half an hour before was, What, a pox was sure to have a side glance of observation; rot me! where is the wash-ball? call the chairif a disagreeable fellow, he had a full face, outmen: damn them, I warrant they are at the of mere inclination to conquests. But at the alehouse already! zounds, and confound them!' close of the evening, on the sixth of the last When he came to the glass, he takes up my month, my ward was sitting on a couch, read-note-Ha! this fellow is worse than I :ing Ovid's Epistles; and as she came to this line of Helen to Paris,

:

'She half consents who silently denies ;** entered Philander,† who is the most skilful of all men in an address to women. He is arrived at the perfection of that art which gains them, which is, to talk like a very miserable man, but look like a happy one.' I saw Dictinna blush at his entrance, which gave me the alarm; but he immediately said something so agreeably on her being at study, and the novelty of finding a lady employed in so grave a manner, that he on a sudden became very familiarly a man of no consequence; and in an instant laid all her suspicions of his skill asleep, as he had almost done mine, until I observed him very dangerously turn his discourse upon the elegance of her dress, and her judgment in the choice of that very pretty mourning. Having had women before under my care, I trembled at the apprehension of a man of sense who could talk upon trifles, and resolved to stick to my post with all the circumspection imaginable. In short, I prepossessed her against all he could say to the advantage of her dress and person; but he turned again the discourse, where I found I had no power over her, on the abusing her friends and acquaintance. He allowed, indeed, that Flora had a little beauty, and a great deal of wit; but then she was so ungainly in her behaviour, and such a laughing hoyden !-Pastorella had, with him, the allowance of being blameless; but what was that towards being praise-worthy? To be only innocent, is not to be virtuous! He afterwards spoke so much against Mrs. Dipple's forehead, Mrs. Prim's mouth, Mrs. Dentrifice's teeth, and Mrs. Fid

*This line occurs in a joint translation of Helen's Epistle to Paris,' by the Earl of Mulgrave and Dryden, in the edition of Ovid's Epistles,' 1709. † Supposed to be lord Halifax.

what, does he swear with pen and ink!' But, reading on, he found them to be his own words. The stratagem had so good an effect upon him, that he grew immediately a new man, and is learning to speak without an oath, which makes him extremely short in his phrases; for, as I observed before, a common swearer has a brain without any idea on the swearing side; therefore my ward has yet mighty little to say, and is forced to substitute some other vehicle of nonsense, to supply the defect of his usual expletives. When I left him, he made use of

Odsbodikins! Oh me! and never stir alive!" and so forth; which gave me hopes of his recovery. So I went to the next I told you of, the gamester. When we at first take our place about a man, the receptacles of the pericranium are immediately searched. In his I found no one ordinary trace of thinking; but strong passion, violent desires, and a continued series of different changes, had torn it to pieces. There appeared no middle condition; the triumph of a prince, or the misery of a beggar, were his alternate states. I was with him no longer than one day, which was yesterday. In the morning at twelve, we were worth four thousand pounds; at three, we were arrived at six thousand; half an hour after, we were reduced to one thousand; at four of the clock, we were down to two hundred; at five, to fifty; at six, to five; at seven, to one guinea; the next bet, to nothing. This morning he borrowed half-a-crown of the maid who cleans his shoes; and is now gaming in Lincoln's Inn Fields among the boys for farthings and oranges, until he has made up three pieces, and then he returns to White's into the best company in town.'

Thus ended our first discourse; and, it is hoped, you will forgive me that I have picked so little out of my companion at our first interview. In the next, it is possible, he may tell me more pleasing incidents; for though he is a faImiliar, he is not an evil spirit.

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