a volubility in reproach, and thought it too coherent to be spoken by one asleep; but, upon looking nearer, I saw the head-dress of the person who spoke, which showed her to be a female, with a man lying by her side broad awake, and as quiet as a lamb. I could not but admire his exemplary patience, and discovered by his whole behaviour, that he was then lying under the discipline of a curtain-lecture. with doors in the sides of it. Upon opening | but I heard very harsh words uttered in a smooth them, he found the body of a dead man, bigger uniform tone. I was amazed to hear so great than ordinary, with a ring upon his finger, which he took off, and put it upon his own. The virtues of it were much greater than he at first imagined; for, upon his going into the assembly of shepherds, he observed, that he was invisible when he turned the stone of the ring within the palm of his hand, and visible when he turned it towards his company. Had Plato and Cicero been as well versed in the occult sciences as I am, they would have found a great deal of mystic learning in this tradition: but it is impossible for an adept to be understood by one who is not an adept. I was entertained in many other places with this kind of nocturnal eloquence; but observed, that most of those whom I found awake, were kept so either by envy or by love. Some of these were sighing, and others cursing in soliloquy; some hugged their pillows, and others gnashed their teeth. As for myself, I have, with much study and application, arrived at this great secret of making myself invisible, and by that means conveying myself where I please; or, to speak in Rosi- The covetous I likewise found to be a very crucian lore, I have entered into the clifts of wakeful people. I happened to come into a the earth, discovered the brazen horse, and rob-room where one of them lay sick. His physician bed the dead giant of his ring. The tradition says further of Gyges, that by the means of this ring he gained admission into the most retired parts of the court, and made such use of those opportunities, that he at length became king of Lydia. For my own part, I, who have always rather endeavoured to improve my mind than my fortune, have turned this ring to no other advantage, than to get a thorough insight into the ways of men, and to make such observations upon the errors of others, as may be useful to the public, whatever effect they may have upon myself. and his wife were in close whisper near his bed-side. I overheard the doctor say to the poor gentlewoman, he cannot possibly live until five in the morning.' She received it like the mistress of a family, prepared for all events. At the same instant came in a servantmaid, who said, 'Madam, the undertaker is below, according to your order.' The words were scarce out of her mouth, when the sick man cried out with a feeble voice, Pray, doctor, how went bank-stock to-day at 'Change?' This me. lancholy object made me too serious for diverting myself further this way. As I was going home, I saw a light in a garret, and entering into it, heard a voice crying, and, hand, stand, band, fanned, tanned. I concluded him by this, and the furniture of his room, to be a lunatic; but, upon listening a little longer, perceived it was a poet, writing a heroic upon the ensuing peace.* There is something magisterial in the aspect of the Bickerstaffs, which made him run away in confusion. About a week ago, not being able to sleep, I got up, and put on my magical ring; and, with a thought, transported myself into a chamber where I saw a light. I found it inhabited by a celebrated beauty, though she is of that species of women which we call a slattern. Her headdress and one of her shoes lay upon a chair, her petticoat in one corner of the room, and her gir- It was now towards morning, an hour when dle, that had a copy of verses made upon it but spirits, witches, and conjurers, are obliged to the day before, with her thread stockings, in retire to their own apartments, and, feeling the the middle of the floor. I was so foolishly offi- influence of it, I was hastening home, when I cious, that I could not forbear gathering up her saw a man had got half way into a neighbour's clothes together, to lay them upon the chair that house. I immediately called to him, and turnstood by her bed-side; when, to my great suring my ring, appeared in my proper person. prise, after a little muttering, she cried out, 'What do you do? Let my petticoat alone.' I was startled at first, but soon found that she was in a dream; being one of those who, to use Shakspeare's expression, are so loose of thought,' that they utter in their sleep every thing that passes in their imagination. I left the apartment of this female rake, and went into her neighbour's, where there lay a male coquette. He had a bottle of salts hanging over his head, and upon the table by his bed-side Suckling's poems, with a little heap of black patches on it. His snuff-box was within reach on a chair: but, while I was admiring the dis⚫ position which he made of the several parts of his dress, his slumber seemed interrupted by a pang that was accompanied by a sudden oath, as he turned himself over hastily in his bed. I did not care for seeing him in his nocturnal pains, and left the room. I was no sooner got into another bed-chamber, As I took a turn or two in my own lodging, I was thinking that, old as I was, I need not go to bed alone, but that it was in my power to marry the finest lady in this kingdom, if I would wed her with this ring. For what a figure would she that should have it make at a visit, with so perfect a knowledge as this would give her of all the scandal in the town? But, instead of endeavouring to dispose of myself and it in matrimony, I resolved to lend it to my loving friend, the author of the Atalantis,'t to furnish a new 'Secret History of Secret Memoirs.' *The person alluded to here was perhaps Mr. Thomas Tickell, who probably lived at this time under Addison's roof; and is supposed to have been mentioned before, under the name of Tom Spindle. See Tat. No. 47. † Mrs. De la Riviere Manley. See Tat. No. 35, and No. 63, Will's Coffee-house, October 30. Ir is no easy matter, when people are advancing in any thing, to prevent their going too fast for want of patience. This happens in nothing more frequently than in the prosecution of studies. Hence it is, that we meet crowds who attempt to be eloquent before they can speak. They affect the flowers of rhetoric before they understand the parts of speech. In the ordinary conversation of this town, there are so many who can, as they call it, talk well, that there is not one in twenty that talks to be understood. This proceeds from an ambition to excel, or, as the term is, to shine in company. The matter is not to make themselves understood, but admired. They come together with a certain emulation, rather than benevolence. When you fall among such companions, the safe way is to give yourself up, and let the orators declaim for your esteem, and trouble yourself no further. It is said, that a poet must be born so; but I think it may be much better said of an orator, especially when we talk of our town poets and orators: but the town poets are full of rules and laws; the town orators go through thick and thin, and are, forsooth, persons of such eminent natural parts, and knowledge of the world, that they despise all men as unexperienced scholasties, who wait for an occasion before they speak, or who speak no more than is necessary. They had half persuaded me to go to the tavern the other night, but that a gentleman whispered me, Pr'ythee, Isaac, go with us; there is Tom Varnish will be there, and he is a fellow that talks as well as any man in England.' I must confess, when a man expresses himself well upon any occasion, and his falling into an account of any subject arises from a desire to oblige the company, or from fulness of the circumstance itself, so that his speaking of it at large is occasioned only by the openness of a companion; I say, in such a case as this, it is not only pardonable, but agreeable, when a man takes the discourse to himself; but when you see a fellow watch for opportunities for being copious, it is excessively troublesome. A man that stammers, if he has understanding, is to be attended to with patience and good-nature; but he that speaks more than he needs, has no right to such an indulgence. The man who has a defect in his speech takes pains to come to you, while a man of weak capacity, with fluency of speech, triumphs in outrunning you. The stammerer strives to be fit for your company; the loquacious man endeavours to show you, you are not fit for his. choose the people with whom I would spend my them. Urbanus is, I take it, a man one might live with whole years, and enjoy all the freedom and improvement imaginable, and yet be insensible of a contradiction to you in all the mistakes you can be guilty of. Iis great good-will to his friends, has produced in him such a general deference in his discourse, that if he differs from you in his sense of any thing, he introduces his own thoughts by some agreeable circumlocution; or, he has often observed such and such a circumstance that made him of another opinion.' Again, where another would be apt to say, this I am confident of, I may pretend to judge of this matter as well as any body; Urbanus says, I am verily persuaded; I believe one may conclude.' In a word, there is no man more clear in his thoughts and expressions than he is, or speaks with greater diffidence. You shall hardly find one man of any consideration, but you shall observe one of less consequence form himself after him. This happens to Urbanus; but the man who steals from him almost every sentiment he utters in a whole week, disguises the theft by carrying it with a quite different air. Umbratilis knows Urbanus's doubtful way of speaking proceeds from good-nature and good-breeding, and not from uncertainty in his opinions. Umbratilis, therefore, has no more to do but to repeat the thoughts of Urbanus in a positive manner, and appear to the undiscerning a wiser man than the person from whom he borrows: but those who know him, can see the servant in his master's habit; and the more he struts, the less do his clothes appear his own. In conversation, the medium is neither to af fect silence or eloquence; not to value our approbation, and to endeavour to excel us who are of your company, are equal injuries. The great enemies therefore to good company, and those who transgress most against the laws of equality which is the life of it, are, the clown, the wit, and the pedant. A clown, when he has sense, is conscious of his want of education, and with an awkward bluntness, hopes to keep himself in countenance by overthrowing the use of all polite behaviour. He takes advantage of the restraint good-breeding lays upon others not to offend him, to trespass against them, and is under the man's own shelter while he intrudes up-. on him. The fellows of this class are very frequent in the repetition of the words rough and manly. When these people happen to be by their fortunes of the rank of gentlemen, they defend their other absurdities by an impertinent courage; and, to help out the defect of their behaviour, add their being dangerous to their be. With thoughts of this kind do I always entering disagreeable. This gentleman (though he into that man's company who is recommended displeases, professes to do so; and knowing that 28 a person that talks well; but if I were to he dares still go on to do so) is not so painful a 1 companion, as he who will please you against your will, and resolves to be a wit. This man, upon all occasions, and whoever he falls in company with, talks in the same circle, and in the same round of chat which he has learned at one of the tables of this coffee-house. As poetry is in itself an elevation above ordina. ry and common sentiments; so there is no fop so very near a madman in indifferent company as a poetical one. He is not apprehensive that the generality of the world are intent upon the business of their own fortune and profession, and have as little capacity as curiosity to enter into matters of ornament, or speculation. I remember at a full table in the city, one of these ubiquitary wits was entertaining the company with a soliloquy, for so I call it when a man talks to those who do not understand him, concerning wit and humour. An honest gentleman who sat next to me, and was worth half a plumb, stared at him, and observing there was some sense, as he thought, mixed with his impertinence, whispered me, 'Take my word for it, this fellow is more knave than fool.' This was all my good friend's applause of the wittiest man of talk that I was ever present at, which wanted nothing to make it excellent, but that there was no occasion for it. The pedant is so obvious to ridicule, that it would be to be one to offer to explain him. He is a gentleman so well known, that there is none but those of his own class who do not laugh at and avoid him. Pedantry proceeds from much reading and little understanding. A pedant among men of learning and sense, is like an ignorant servant giving an account of a polite conversation. You may find he has brought with him more than could have entered into his head without being there, but still that he is not a bit wiser than if he had not been there at all. eight night-shifts, four pair of silk stockings curiously darned, six pair of laced shoes, new and old, with the heels of half two inches higher than their fellows; a quilted petticoat of the largest size, and one of canvas with whale-bone hoops; three pair of stays, bolstered below the left shoulder, two pair of hips of the newest fashion, six round-about aprons with pockets, and four striped muslin night-rails very little frayed; a silver pot for coffee or chocolate, the lid much bruised; a broad brimmed flat silver plate for sugar with Rhenish wine; a silver ladle for plumb-porridge; a silver cheese-toaster with three tongues, an ebony handle, and silvering at the end; a silver posnet to butter eggs; one caudle and two cordial-water cups, two cocoa-cups, and an ostrich's egg, with rims and feet of silver, a" marrow-spoon with a scoop at the other end, a silver orange-strainer, eight sweet-meat- spoons made with forks at the end, an agate handle knife and fork in a sheath, a silver tongue-scraper, a silver tobacco-box, with a tulip graved on the top; and a bible bound in shagreen, with gilt leaves and clasps, never opened but once. Also a small cabinet, with six drawers inlaid with red tortoise-shell, and brass gilt ornaments at the four corners, in which were two leather forehead-cloths, three pair of oiled dog-skin gloves, seven cakes of superfine Spanish wool, half-a-dozen of Portugal dishes, and a quire of paper from thence; two pair of bran-new plumpers, four black-lead combs, three pair of fashionable eye-brows, two sets of ivory teeth, little the worse for wearing, and one pair of box for common use; Adam and Eve in bugle work, without fig-leaves, upon canvas, curiously wrought with hier ladyship's own hand; several filigrane curiosities; a crotchet of one hundred and twenty-two diamonds, set strong and deep in silver, with a rump-jewel after the same fashion; bracelets of braided hair, pomander and seed-pearl; a large old purple velvet purse, embroidered, and shutting with a spring, containing two pictures in miniature, the features visible; a broad thick gold ring with a hand-in-hand engraved upon it, and within this poesy, While life does last, I'll hold thee fast; another, set round with small rubies and sparks, six wanting; another an Elizabeth and four Jacobus's, one guinea, of Turkey stone, cracked through the middle; the first of the coin, an angel with a hole bored through, a broken half of a Spanish piece of gold, a erown piece with the breeches, an old nine-pence bent both ways by Lilly the almaWhereas Bridget Howd'ye, late servant to the nack maker, for luck at langteraloo, and twelve Lady Fardingale, a short, thick, lively, hard- of the shells called blackmoor's teeth; one small favoured wench of about twenty-nine years of amber box with apoplectic balsam, and one silage, her eyes small and bleared, and nose very ver gilt of a larger size for cashu and carraway broad at bottom, and turning up at the end, her comfits, to be taken at long sermons, the lid mouth wide, and lips of an unusual thickness, enamelled, representing a cupid fishing for two teeth out before, the rest black and uneven, hearts, with a piece of gold on his hook; over the tip of her left ear being of a mouse colour, his head this rhyme, Only with gold, you me her voice loud and shrill, quick of speech, and shall hold.' In the lower drawer was a large something of a Welsh accent, withdrew herself new gold repeating watch made by a Frenchon Wednesday last from her ladyship's dwell-man; a gold chain, and all the proper appurte ing-house, and, with the help of her consorts, nances hung upon steel swivels, to wit, lockets carried off the following goods of her said lady; with the hair of dead and living lovers, seals yiz. a thick wadded calico wrapper, a musk- with arms, emblems, and devices cut in cornecoloured velvet mantle lined with squirrel skins, | lian, agate, and onyx, with cupids, hearts, darts, No. 245.] Thursday, November 2, 1710. From my own Apartment, November 1. THE lady hereafter-mentioned, having come to me in very great haste, and paid me much above the usual fee, as a cunning-man, to find her stolen goods, and also having approved my late discourse of advertisements, obliged me to draw up this, and insert it in the body of my paper. ADVERTISEMENT.. altars, flames, rocks, pickaxes, roses, thorns, and sun-flowers; as also variety of ingenious French mottos; together with gold etuys for quills, scissars, needles, thimbles, and a sponge dipped in Hungary water, left but the night before by a young lady going upon a frolic incog. There was also a bundle of letters, dated between the years one thousand six hundred and seventy, and one thousand six hundred and eighty-two, most of them signed Philander, the rest Strephon, Amyntas, Corydon, and Adonis; together with a collection of receipts to make paste for the hands, pomatums, lip-salves, white-pots, beautifying creams, water of talc, and frog spawn water; decoctions for clearing the complexion, and an approved medicine to procure abortion. Whoever can discover the aforesaid goods, so that they may be had again, shall have fifty guineas for the whole, or proportionably for any part. N. B. Her Ladyship is pleased to promise ten pounds for the pacquet of letters over and above, or five for Philander's only, being her first love. My lady bestows those of Strephon to the finder, being so written, that they may serve to any woman who reads them.' P. S. As I am a patron of persons who have no other friend to apply to, I cannot suppress the following complaint: ་ comb. From this source it is, that any excellence is faintly received, any imperfection unmercifully exposed. But if things were put in a true light, and we would take time to consider, that man, in his very nature, is an imperfect being, our sense of this matter would be immediately altered, and the word imperfection would not carry an unkinder idea than the word humanity. It is a pleasant story that we forsooth, who are the only imperfect creatures in the universe, are the only beings that will not allow of imperfection. Somebody has taken notice that we stand in the middle of existences, and are by this one circumstance, the most unhappy of all others. The brutes are guided by instinct, and know no sorrow; the angels have knowledge, and they are happy; but men are governed by opinion, which is I know not what mixture of instinct and knowledge, and are neither indolent nor happy. It is very observable, that critics are a people between the learned and the ignorant, and by that situation enjoy the tranquillity of neither. As critics stand among men, so do men in general between brutes and angels. Thus every man, as he is a critic and a coxcomb, until improved by reason and speculation, is ever forgetting himself, and laying open the faults of others. cruelty of urging people's faults with severity, At the same time that I am talking of the I cannot but bewail some which men are guilty 'SIR,-I am a blackmoor boy, and have, by of for want of admonition. These are such as my lady's order, been christened by the chap. they can easily mend, and nobody tells them of, for which reason I shall make use of the penny lain. The good man has gone further with me, and told me a great deal of good news; as, that I post (as I have with success to several young am as good as my lady herself, as I am a Chris-ladies about turning their eyes, and holding up tian, and many other things: but for all this, the parrot, who came over with me from our country, is as much esteemed by her as I am. Besides this, the shock-dog has a collar that cost almost as much as mine. I desire also to know, whether, now I am a Christian, I am obliged to dress like a Turk, and wear a turbant. I am, sir, your most humble servant, 'POMPEY.' their heads) to certain gentlemen, whom I remark habitually guilty of what they may reform in a moment. There is a fat fellow, whom in the midst of winter, out of an affectation of I have long remarked wearing his breast open youth. I have therefore sent him just now the following letter in my physical capacity: 'SIR,-From the twentieth instant to the first of May next, both days inclusive, I beg of you to button your waistcoat from your collar to your waistband. I am your most humble servant, ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Philomath.' There is a very handsome well-shaped youth that frequents the coffee-houses about Charingcross, and ties a very pretty ribbon with a cross of jewels at his breast. This being something new, and a thing in which the gentleman may offend the Heralds-office, I have addressed my. self to him as I am Censor. DEAR COUNTRYMAN,-Was that ensign of honour which you wear given you by a prince, or a lady that you have served? If you bear it as an absent lover, please to hang it on a black ribbon if as a rewarded soldier, you may have my license to continue the red.-Your faithful servant, WHEN one considers the turn which conver. sation takes in almost every set of acquaintance, club, or assembly, in this town or kingdom, one cannot but observe, that in spite of what I am every day saying, and all the moral writers since the beginning of the world have said, the subject of discourse is generally upon one another's faults. This in a great measure proceeds from self-conceit, which were to be endured in one or other individual person; but the folly has spread itself almost over all the species; and one cannot only say, Tom, Jack,worth, who became a madman, and died in Bridewell * Perhaps the prince of puppies, Col. Ambrose Edg or Will, but in general, that man is a cox- Pat Dublin. 'BICKERSTAFF, Censor.' These little intimations do great service, and | and we have not learned half the knowledge of are very useful, not only to the persons themselves, but to inform others how to conduct themselves towards them. Instead of this honest private method, or a friendly one face to face, of acquainting people with things in their power to explain or amend, the usual way among people is to take no notice of things you can help, and nevertheless expose you for those you cannot. Plumbeus and Levis are constantly in each other's company: they would, if they took proper methods, be very agreeable companions; but they so extravagantly aim at what they are unfit for, and each of them rallies the other so much in the wrong place, that instead of doing each other the offices of friends, they do but instruct the rest of the world to laugh at them with more knowledge and skill. Plumbeus is of a saturnine and sullen complexion; Levis of a mercurial and airy disposition. Both these gentlemen have but very slow parts, but would make a very good figure did they pursue what they ought. If Plumbous would take to business, he would, in a few years, know the forms of order so well as to direct and dictate with so much ease, as to be thought a solid, able, and, at the same time, a sure man of despatch. Levis, with a little reading, and coming more into company, would soon be able to write a song, or lead up a country-dance. Instead of these proper pursuits, in obedience to their respective geniuses, Plumbeus endeavours to be a inan of pleasure, and Levis the man of business. This appears in their speech, and in their dress; Plumbeus is ever egregiously fine, and talking something like wit; Levis is ever extremely grave, and, with a silly face, repeating maxims. These two pardon each other for affecting what each is incapable of, the one to be wise, and the other gay; but are extremely critical in their judgments of each other in their way towards what they pretend to. Plumbeus acknowledges Levis to be a man of great reach, because it is what Plumbeus never cared for being thought| himself, and Levis allows Plumbeus to be an agreeable rake for the same reason. Now, were these dear friends to be free with each other, as they ought to be, they would change characters, and be both as commendable, instead of being as ridiculous, as their capacities will admit of. Were it not too grave, all that I would urge on this subject is, that men are bewildered when they consider themselves in any other view than that of strangers, who are in a place where it is no great matter whether they can, or unreasonable to expect they should, have every thing about them as well as at their own home. This way of thinking is, perhaps, the only one that can put this being in a proper posture for the ease of society. It is certain, that this would reduce all faults into those which proceed from malice, or dishonesty: it would quite change our manner of beholding one another, and nothing that was not below a man's nature, would be below his character. The arts of this life would be proper advances towards the next; and a very good man would be a very fine gentleman. As it is now, human life is inverted, this world before we are dropping into another.. Thus, instead of the raptures and contemplations which naturally attend a well-spent life from the approach of eternity, even we old fellows are afraid of the ridicule of those who are born since us, and ashamed not to understand, as well as peevish to resign, the mode, the fashion, the ladies, the fiddles, the balls, and what not. Dick Reptile, who does not want humour, is very pleasant at our club when he sees an old fellow touchy at being laughed at for any thing that is not in the mode; and bawls in his ear, Pr'ythee do not mind him; tell him thou art mortal.' · Edenburgh, Oct. 23. MR. BICKERSTAFF,-I presume to lay before you an affair of mine, and begs you'le be very sinceir in giving me your judgment and advice in this matter, which is as follows: A very agreeable young gentleman, who is endowed with all the good qualities that can make a man complete, has this long time maid love to me in the most passionate manner that was posable. He has left nothing unsaid to make me believe his affections real; and, in his letters, expressed himself so hansomly and so tenderly, that I had all the reason imaginable to believe him sinceir. In short, he positively has promised me he would marry me: but I find all he said nothing; for when the question was put to him, he would not; but still would continue my humble servant, and would go on at the ould rate, repeating the assurances of his fidelity, and at the same time has none in him. He now writs to me in the same endearing style he ust to do, would have me speak to no man but himself. His estate is in his own hand, his father being dead. My fortune at my own disposal, mine being also dead, and to the full answers his estate. Pray, sir, be ingeinous, and tell me cordially, if you don't think I shall do myself an injury if I keep company, or a corraspondance any longer with this gentleman. I hope you will favour an honest North-Britain, as I am, with your advice in this amour; for I |