amazed to hear an instrument of so simple an❘ Another learned gentleman gives me also this encomium: September 16. 'SIR, You are now got into a useful and noble subject; take care to handle it with judg. ment and delicacy. I wish every young divine would give yours of Saturday last a serious perusal; and now you are entered upon the action of an orator, if you would proceed to favour the world with some remarks on the mystical enchantments of pronunciation, what a secret force there is in the accents of a tunable voice, and wherefore the works of two very great men of the profession could never please so well when read as heard, I shall trouble you with no more scribble. You are now in the method of being truly profitable and delightful. | If you can keep up to such great and sublime subjects, and pursue them with a suitable genius, go on and prosper. Farewell.' White's Chocolate-house, September 19. This was left for me here, for the use of the company of the house: • To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire. September 15. 'SIR,-The account you gave lately of a certain dog-kennel in or near Suffolk-street, was not so punctual, as to the list of the dogs, as might have been expected from a person of Mr. Bickerstaff's intelligence; for, if you will despatch Pacolet thither some evening, it is ten to one but he finds, besides those you mentioned, Towzer, a large French mongrel, that was not long ago in a tattered condition, but has now got new hair; is not fleet, but, when he grapples, bites even to the marrow. Spring a little French greyhound, that lately made a false trip to Tunbridge. 'Sly, an old battered fox-hound, that began the game in France. 'Lightfoot, a fine skinned Flanders dog, that belonged to a pack at Ghent; but having lost flesh, is gone to Paris, for the benefit of the air. With several others, that in time may be worth notice. Your familiar will see also, how anxious the keepers are about the prey, and, indeed, not without very good reason, for they have their share of every thing; nay, not so much as a poor rabbit can be run down, but these carni U vorous curs swallow a quarter of it. Some me chanics in the neighbourhood, that have entered into this civil society, and who furnish part of the carrion and oatmeal for the dogs, have the skin; and the bones are picked clean by a little French shock that belongs to the family, &c. I am, Sir, your humble servant, &c.' 'I had almost forgot to tell you, that Ringwood bites at Hampstead with false teeth.'* Quicquid agunt homines nostri est farrago libelli. Juv. Sat. i. 85, 86. I HAVE long been, against my inclination, employed in satire, and that in prosecution of such persons, who are below the dignity of the true spirit of it; such who, I fear, are not to be reclaimed by making them only ridiculous. The sharpers shall, therefore, have a month's time to themselves, free from the observation of this paper; but I must not make a truce without letting them know, that, at the same time, I am preparing for a more vigorous war : for a friend of mine has promised me he will employ his time in compiling such a tract, before the session of the ensuing parliament, as shall lay gaming home to the bosoms of all who love their country or their families; and he doubts not but it will create an act, that shall make those rogues as scandalous as those less mischievous ones on the high road. I have received private intimations to take care of my walks, and remember there are such things as stabs and blows: but as there never was any thing in this design which ought to displease a man of honour, or which was not designed to offend the rascals, I shall give myself very little concern for finding what I expected, that they would be highly provoked at these lucubrations. But, though I utterly despise the pack, I must confess I am at a stand at the receipt of the following letter, which seems to be written by a man of sense and worth, who has mistaken some passage that I am sure was not levelled at him. This gentleman's complaints give me compunction, when I neglect the threats of the rascals. I cannot be in jest with the rogues any longer, since they pretend to threaten. I do not know whether I shall allow them the favour of transportation. vein; and, to show I very little value myself upon it, shall for this month ensuing leave the sharper, the fop, the pedant, the proud man, the insolent; in a word, all the train of knaves and fools, to their own devices, and touch on nothing but panegyric. This way is suitable to the true genius of the Staffs, who are much more inclined to reward than punish. If, therefore, the author of the above-mentioned letter does not command my silence wholly, as he shall, if I do not give him satisfaction, I shall, for the above-mentioned space turn my thoughts to raising merit from its obscurity, celebrating virtue in its distress, and attacking vice by no other method, but setting innocence in a proper light. be washed out. This you grant, even when you give yourself leave to trifle. If so, what caution is necessary in handling the reputation of a man, whose well-being in this life perhaps entirely depends on preserving it from any wound, which, once there received, too often becomes fatal and incurable? Suppose some villanous hand through personal prejudice, transmits materials for this purpose, which you publish to the world, and afterwards become fully convinced you were imposed on; as by this time you may be of a character you have sent into the world; I say, supposing this, I would be glad to know, what reparation you think ought to be made the person so injured, admitting you stood in his place. It has always been held, that a generous education is the surest mark of a generous mind. The former is, indeed, perspicuous in all your papers; and, I am persuaded, though you affect often to show the latter, yet you would not keep any measures, even of christianity, with those who should handle you in the manner you do others. The application of all this is from your having very lately glanced at a man under a character, which, were he conscious to deserve, he would be the first to rid the world of himself; and would be more justifiable in it to all sorts of men, than you in your committing such a violence on his reputation, which perhaps you may be convinced of in another manner than you de-bring them off those ill gestures. Another evil serve from him. · A man of your capacity, Mr. Bickerstaff, should have more noble views, and pursue the true spirit of satire; but I will conclude, lest I grow out of temper, and will only beg you for your own preservation, to remember the proverb of the pitcher. I am yours, A. J.' The proverb of the pitcher I have no regard to; but it would be an insensibility not to be pardoned, if a man could be untouched at so warm an accusation, and that laid with so much seeming temper. All I can say to it is, that if the writer, by the same method whereby he conveyed this letter, shall give me an instance wherein I have injured any good man, or pointed at any thing which is not the true object of raillery, I shall acknowledge the offence in as open a manner as the press can do it, and lay down this paper for ever. There is something very terrible in unjustly attacking men in a way that may prejudice their honour or fortune; but when men of too modest a sense of themselves will think they are touched, it is impossible to prevent ill consequences from the most innocent and general discourses. This I have known to happen in circumstances the most foreign to theirs who have taken offence at them. An advertisement lately published, relating to Omicron, alarmed a gentleman of good sense, integrity, honour, and industry, who is in every particular, different from the trifling pretenders pointed at in that advertisement. When the modesty of some is as excessive as the vanity of others, what defence is there against misinterpretation? However, giving disturbance, though not intended, to men of virtuous characters, has so sincerely troubled me that I will break from this satirical Will's Coffee-house, September 20. I find here for me the following letter: ESQUIRE BICKERSTAFF,-Finding your ad. vice and censure to have a good effect, I desire your admonition to our vicar and schoolmaster, who, in his preaching to his auditors, stretches his jaws so wide, that, instead of instructing youth, it rather frightens them: likewise, in reading prayers, he has such a careless loll, that people are justly offended at his irreverent posture; besides the extraordinary charge they are put to in sending their children to dance, to faculty he has, in making the bowling-green his daily residence, instead of his church, where his curate reads prayers every day. If the weather is fair, his time is spent in visiting; if cold or wet, in bed, or at least at home, though within a hundred yards of the church. These, out of many such irregular practices, I write for his reclamation: but two or three things more before I conclude; to wit, that generally when his curate preaches in the afternoon, he sleeps setting in the desk on a hassock. With all this he is so extremely proud that he will go but once to the sick except they return his visit.' I was going on in reading my letter, when I was interrupted by Mr. Greenhat, who has been this evening at the play of Hamlet. 'Mr. Bickerstaff,' said he, had you been to-night at the play-house, you had seen the force of action in perfection: your admired Mr. Betterton behaved himself so well, that though now about seventy, he acted youth; and by the prevalent power of proper manner, gesture, and voice, appeared through the whole drama a young man of great expectation, vivacity, and enterprise. The soliloquy, where he began the celebrated sentence of "To be or not to be?" the expostu lation, where he explains with his mother in her closet, the noble ardour, after seeing his father's ghost; and his generous distress for the death of Ophelia, are each of them circumstances which dwell strongly upon the minds of the audience, and would certainly affect their behaviour on any parallel occasions in their own lives. Pray, Mr. Bickerstaff, let us have virtue thus represented on the stage with its proper ornaments, or let these ornaments be added to her in places more sacred. As for my part,' said he, 'I carried my cousin Jerry, this little boy, with me; and shall always love the child | future, except those who have sent menaces. for his partiality in all that concerned the for- and not submitted to admonition. tune of Hamlet. This is entering youth into the affections and passions of manhood beforehand, and, as it were, antedating the effects we hope from a long and liberal education.' I cannot, in the midst of many other things which press, hide the comfort that this letter from my ingenious kinsman gives me. To my honoured kinsman, Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire. 'Oxford, September 18. DEAR COUSIN,-I am sorry, though not surprised, to find that you have rallied the men of dress in vain; that the amber-headed cane still maintains its unstable post; that pockets are but a few inches shortened; and a beau is still a beau, from the crown of his night-cap, to the heels of his shoes. For your comfort, I can assure you, that your endeavours succeed better in this famous seat of learning. By them the manners of our young gentlemen are in a fair way of amendment, and their very language is mightily refined. To them it is owing, that not a servitor will sing a catch, nor a seniorfellow make a pun, nor a determining bachelor drink a bumper; and I believe a gentlemancommoner would as soon have the heels of his shoes red, as his stockings. When a witling stands at a coffee-house door, and sneers at those who pass by, to the great improvement of his hopeful audience, he is no longer surnamed 'a slicer,' but 'a man of fire' is the word. A beauty, whose health is drunk from Heddington to Hinksey; who has been the theme of the muses, her cheeks painted with roses, and her bosom planted with orange boughs, has no more the title of 'lady,' but reigns an undisputed toast. When to the plain garb of gown and band a spark adds an inconsistent long wig, we do not say now 'he boshes,' but there goes a smart fellow.' If a virgin blushes, we no longer cry, 'she blues.' He that drinks until he stares, is no more 'tow-row,' but 'honest.' 'A young ster in a scrape,' is a word out of date; and what bright man says, I was joabed by the dean?' Bambouzling' is exploded; 'a shat' is 'a tatler;' and if the muscular motion of a man's face be violent, no mortal says, he raises a horse,' but he is a merry fellow.' 'I congratulate you my dear kinsman, upon these conquests; such as Roman emperors lamented they could not gain; and in which you rival your correspondent Louis le Grand, and his dictating academy. 'Be yours the glory to perform, mine to record, as Mr. Dryden has said before me to his kinsman; and while you enter triumphant into the temple of the muses, I, as my office requires, will with my staff on my shoulder, attend and conduct you. I am, dear cousin, your most affectionate kinsman, 'BENJAMIN BEADLESTAFF.' Upon the humble application of certain persons who have made heroic figures in Mr. Bickerstaff's narrations, notice is hereby given, that no such shall ever be mentioned for the I HAVE taken upon me no very easy task in turning all my thoughts on panegyric, when most of the advices I receive tend to the quite contrary purpose; and I have few notices but such as regard follies and vices. But the properest way for me to treat is, to keep in general upon the passions and affections of men, with as little regard to particulars as the nature of the thing will admit. However, I think there is something so passionate in the circumstances of the lovers mentioned in the following letter, that I am willing to go out of my way to obey what is commanded in it: method London, Sept. 17. with the characters of the ancient heroes, as 'SIR,-Your design of entertaining the town persons shall send an account to Mr. Morphew's, encourages me and others to beg of you, that, in the mean time, if it is not contrary to the you have proposed, you would give us one paper upon the subject of the death of Pætus and his wife, when Nero sent him an order to kill himself: his wife, setting him the example, died with these words: "Pætus, it is not painful." You must know the story, and your observations upon it will oblige, Sir, your most humble servant.' When the worst man that ever lived in the world had the highest station in it, human life was the object of his diversion; and he sent orders frequently, out of mere wantonness, to take off such and such, without so much as being angry with them. Nay, frequently, his tyranny was so humorous, that he put men to death because he could not but approve of them. It came one day to his ear, that a certain married couple, Pætus and Arria, lived in a more happy tranquillity and mutual love than any other persons who were then in being. He lis tened with great attention to the account of their manner of spending their time together, of the constant pleasure they were to each other in all their words and actions; and found by exact information, that they were so treasonable as to be much more happy than his imperial majesty himself. Upon which he writ Pætus the following billet: Pætus, you are hereby desired to despatch yourself. I have heard a very good character of you; and therefore leave it to yourself, whether you will die by dagger, sword, or poison. If you outlive this order above an hour, I have given directions to put you to death by torture. NERO.' This familiar epistle was delivered to his wife | home unedified, and troubled in mind. I dipt Arria, who opened it. into the Lamentations, and from thence turning to the thirty-fourth chapter of Ezekiel, I found these words: Woe be to the shepherds of Israel, that do feed themselves! should not the shepherds feed the flock? Ye eat the fat, and ye clothe you with the wool: ye kill them that are fed; but ye feed not the flock. The diseased have ye not strengthened; neither have ye healed that which was sick; neither have ye bound up that which was broken; neither have ye brought again that which was driven away; neither have ye sought that which was lost; but with force and with cruelty have ye ruled them," &c. Now, I pray thee, friend, as thou art a man skilled in many things, tell me who is meant by the diseased, the sick, the broken, the driven away, and the lost? and whether the prophecy in this chapter be accomplished, or yet to come to pass? and thou wilt oblige thy friend, though unknown.' One must have a soul very well turned for love, pity, and indignation, to comprehend the tumult this unhappy lady was thrown into upon this occasion. The passion of love is no more to be understood by some tempers, than a problem in a science by an ignorant man: but he that knows what affection is, will have, upon considering the condition of Arria, ten thousand thoughts flowing upon him, which the tongue was not formed to express; but the charming statue is now before my eyes, and Arria in her unutterable sorrow, has more beauty than ever appeared in youth, in mirth, or in triumph. These are the great and noble incidents which speak the dignity of our nature, in our sufferings and distresses. Behold, her tender affection for her husband sinks her features into a countenance which appears more helpless than that of an infant but again, her indignation shows in her visage and her bosom a resentment as strong as that of the bravest man. Long she This matter is too sacred for this paper; but stood in this agony of alternate rage and love; cannot see what injury it would do to any but at last composed herself for her dissolution, clergyman to have it in his eye, and believe all rather than survive her beloved Pætus. When that are taken from him by his want of industry he came into her presence, he found her with are to be demanded of him. I dare say, Favothe tyrant's letter in one hand, and a dagger innius* has very few of these losses. Favonius, the other. Upon his approach to her, she gave him the order and at the same time stabbing herself, Pætus,' says she, it is not painful;' and expired. Pætus immediately followed her example. The passion of these memorable lovers was such, that it illuded the rigour of their fortune, and baffled the force of a blow, which neither felt, because each received it for the sake of the other. The woman's part in this story is much the more heroic, and has occasioned one of the best epigrams transmitted to us from antiquity.* From my own Apartment, September 23. The boy says, one in a black hat left the fol. lowing letter: 19th of the Seventh month. 'FRIEND,-Being of that part of Christians whom men call Quakers, and being a seeker of the right way, I was persuaded yesterday to hear one of your most noted teachers; the matter he treated was the necessity of well living, grounded upon a future state. I was attentive; but the man did not appear in earnest. He read his discourse, notwithstanding thy rebukes, so heavily, and with so little air of being convinced himself, that I thought he would have slept, as I observed many of his hearers did. I came I in the midst of a thousand impertinent assailants of the divine truths, is an undisturbed defender of them. He protects all under his care, by the clearness of his understanding, and the example of his life; he visits dying men with the air of a man who hopes for his own dissolution, and enforces in others a contempt of this life, by his own expectation of the next. His voice and behaviour are the lively images of a composed and well-governed zeal. None can leave him for the frivolous jargon uttered by the ordinary teachers among dissenters, but such who cannot distinguish vociferation from eloquence, and argument from railing. He is so great a judge of mankind, and touches our passions with so superior a command, that he who deserts his congregation must be a stranger to the dictates of nature as well as to those of grace. But I must proceed to other matters, and resolve the questions of other inquirers; as in the following: Heddington, Sept. 19 'SIR,-Upon reading that part of the Tatler. No. 69, where mention is made of a certain chapel-clerk, there arose a dispute, and that produced a wager, whether by the words chapelclerk was meant a clergyman or layman? by a clergyman I mean one in holy orders. It was not that any body in the company pretended to guess who the person was; but some asserted, that by Mr. Bickerstaff's words must be meant a clergyman only; others said, that those words might have been said of any clerk of the parish; and some of them more properly of a layman. The wager is half a dozen bottles of wine; in which, if you please to determine it, your health, and all the family of the Staffs, shall certainly be drunk; and you will singularly oblige another * Dr. Smallridge. very considerable family; I mean that of your ancient friend and school-fellow. You know in humble servants, THE TRENCHER CAPS.' It is very customary with us learned men, to find perplexities where no one else can see any. The honest gentlemen, who wrote this, are much at a loss to understand what I thought very plain; and, in return, their epistle is so plain, that I cannot understand it. This, perhaps, is at first a little like nonsense, but I desire all persons to examine these writings with an eye to my being far gone in the occult sciences; and remember, that it is the privilege of the learned and the great to be understood when they please for as a man of much business may be allowed to leave company when he pleases; so one of high learning may be above your capacity when he thinks fit. But without further speeches or fooling, I must inform my friends the Trencher Caps, in plain words, that I meant, in the place they speak of, a drunken clerk of a church: and I will return their civility among my relations, and drink their healths as they do your own conscience you gave me leave to touch upon your vein of speaking, provided I hid your other talents; in which I believed you sincere, because, like the ancient Sinon, you have before now suffered yourself to be defaced to carry on a plot. Besides, sir, rot me, language for a person of your present station! Fy, fy, I am really ashamed for you, and shall no more depend upon your intelligence. Keep your temper, wash your face, and go to bed. ISAAC BICKERSTAFF.' For aught I know, this fellow may have confused the description of the pack, on purpose to ensnare the game, while I have all along believed he was destroying them as well as myself; but because they pretend to bark more than ordinary, I shall let them see that I will not throw away the whip, until they know better how to behave themselves. But I must not, at the same time, omit the praises of their economy, expressed in the following advice: Sept. 17. 'MR. BICKERSTAFF,-Though your thoughts are at present employed upon the tables of fame, and marshalling your illustrious dead, it is hoped the living may not be neglected, nor defrauded of their just honours; and since you have begun to publish to the world the great sagacity and vigilance of the Knights of the Industry, it will be expected you shall proceed to do justice to all the societies of them you can be informed of; especially since their own great industry covers their actions as much as possible from that public notice which is their due. Paulum sepultæ distat inertia Celata virtus. Hor. 4. Od. ix. 29. "Hidden vice and concealed virtue are much alike." Be pleased, therefore, to let the following memoirs have a place in their history. In a certain part of the town, famous for the freshest oysters, and the plainest English, there is a house, or rather a college, sacred to hospi is hieroglyphically drawn a cavalier contending with a monster, with jaws expanded just ready to devour him. *MR. BICKERSTAFF,—You are a very imputality and the industrious arts. At the entrance dent fellow to put me into the Tatler. Rot you, sir, I have more wit than you; and rot me, I have more money than most fools I have bubbled. All persons of quality admire me; though, rot me if I value a blue garter any more than do a blue apron. Every body knows I am brave; therefore have a care how you provoke MONOCULUS.'+ The Answer. I SIR,-Did I not very well know your hand, as well by the spelling as the character, I should not have believed yours of to-day had come from you. But when all men are acquainted that I have had all my intelligence from you, relating to your fraternity, let them pronounce who is the more impudent. I confess, I have had a peculiar tenderness for you, by reason of that luxuriant eloquence of which you are master, and have treated you accordingly; for which you have turned your florid violence against your *The waiter at White's Chocolate-house. † Sir Humphrey Moneux. 'Hither the brethren of the Industry resort; but, to avoid ostentation, they wear no habits of distinction, and perform their exercises with as little noise and show as possible. Here are no under-graduates, but each is a master of his art. They are distributed according to their various talents, and detached abroad in parties, to divide the labours of the day. They have dogs as wellnosed and as fleet as any; and no sportsmen show greater activity. Some beat for the game, some hunt it, others come in at the death; and my honest landlord makes very good venison sauce, and eats his share of the dinner. 'I would fain pursue my metaphors; but a venerable person who stands by me, and waits to bring you this letter, and whom, by a certain benevolence in his look, I suspect to be Pacolet, reproves me, and obliges me to write in plainer terms, that the society had fixed their eyes on a gay young gentleman, who has lately succeeded to a title and an estate; the latter of which they |