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\j^C^MJ^<L^r\^ 
 
 Sir Ro^er de Coverley. 
 
 BY THE SPECTATOR. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 TICKNOR, REED, AND FIJELDS 
 
 MDCCCLII. 
 

 ?i>^ 
 
 
 B?i..<i-M "<^ ' < 
 
 THURSTON, TORRY, AXD EiTERSON, PRIXTEUS. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 rPHE aim of the Spectator, as defined by Dr. Johnson, 
 -*- was ' to teach the minuter decencies and inferior 
 duties ; to regulate the practice of daily conversation ; 
 to correct those depravities which are rather ridiculous 
 than criminal, and remove those grievances which, if 
 they produce no lasting calamities, impress hourly 
 vexation.' The machinery adopted by the Spectator 
 to accomplish this object — to soften the harshness of 
 his censures, to disarm the sharpest strictures of the 
 smallest offence — was a club ; the members of which, 
 after the grave, taciturn, ubiquitous, keen, but kindly, 
 
 r 
 
 Spectator himself, were representatives of the various 
 classes of society whose faults and absurdities rendered 
 them most in need of pertinent admonition. To the 
 coarse, intemperate, ignorant, and arrogant country 
 esquires of that day, the gentle Mentor spoke through 
 Sir Roger de Coverley : no model magistrate, or 
 self-righteous censor; but a hearty, humorous, plain 
 old gentleman — one of themselves — with enough of 
 
VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 their foibles, tastes, and prejudices to win their sym- 
 pathies and to charm them into reformation. 
 
 None of the characters were elaborated with so 
 much care — to none was imparted such thorough 
 completeness, as that of Sir Roger de Coverlet ; 
 between which (to quote a saying of Horace Walpole) 
 and Sir John FalstafF — though a wide interval — 
 
 r 
 
 nothing like it exists in literature for truthfulness and 
 finish. Sir Roger's eccentricities do not, as some 
 have written, disturb the consistency of the character : 
 on the contrary they strengthen its individuality. If 
 they be discords, instead of jarring, they enrich the 
 harmony. They are precisely the humours of an 
 honest, elderly, sensitive bachelor, whose early history 
 had been dashed with the romance of his having been 
 jilted. Sir Roger does nothing and says nothing which 
 might not have been said and done, in his day, by any 
 warm-hearted rustic gentleman who had been irre- 
 deemably crossed in love. Indeed, turning thus from 
 Nature to the consummate Art which copied her, it 
 can scarcely be denied that the character owes its 
 immortality to the quaint traits of extravagance which 
 have been stigmatized as blemishes : without impairing 
 the efficacy of Sir Roger as a special admonitory 
 example to the country esquire of the reign of Queen 
 Anne, his oddities were destined to rivet the interest 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. Vll 
 
 and excite the affectionate smile of all readers in all 
 time. 
 
 The essays which separate the Coverley papers from 
 one another, however exquisite in themselves, break 
 the spell which binds the reader while lingering over 
 the benevolence or humour of the Worcestershire 
 baronet. Even when arranged more conveniently in 
 a sequence, as in this book, it is not pleasing to re- 
 member that so captivating an Identity was originated 
 and wa'ought out by ' several hands.' Every fresh 
 lineament of the good Sir Roger so strengthens the 
 sense of Unity, that we rather love to be deluded with 
 the notion that the whole was the work of one mind. 
 With all art so perfect that it conceals art, we prefer 
 the ignorance which is our bliss, to the knowledge that 
 reveals the companionships, contrivances, or agonies 
 of authorcraft. Though curiosity is gratified, sentiment 
 is hurt, when we are told that the outlines of Sir 
 Roger de Coverley were imagined and partly traced 
 by Sir Richard Steele ; that the colouring and more 
 prominent lineaments were elaborated by Joseph Addi- 
 son ; that some of the back-ground was put in by 
 Eustace Budgell ; and, that the portrait was defaced 
 by either Steele or Thomas Tickell, with a deformity 
 which Addison repudiated, and which is not here re- 
 produced. 
 
Vlll ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The sum of the account in hard figures stands 
 thus; — Sir Roger de Coverley's adventures, opin- 
 ions, and conversations occur in thirty of the Spec- 
 tator'^s papers. Of these, Addison wrote twenty, 
 Budgell two, and Steele eight ; if it be certain that he 
 was the author of the obnoxious portion of No. 410 ; 
 which has also been attributed to Tickell. 
 
 But over this divided labour, all evidence proves 
 that Addison exercised a rigid and harmonizing edi- 
 torial vigilance. In the words of an accurate critic, 
 ' Addison took the rude outlines into his own hands, 
 retouched them, coloured them ; and is, in truth, the 
 creator of the Sir Roger de Coverlet and the Will 
 Honeycomb with whom we are all familiar.' The 
 habits of Addison and Steele were those of a close 
 literary partnership. What Steele's quick impatient 
 genius planned, Addison's rich taste and thoughtful 
 industry executed : what were, and would perhaps 
 have ever remained, dreams in Steele's brain, came 
 out distinct realities from under Addison's hand. Be- 
 tween them Pope's maxim was fully obeyed : — 
 
 ' To write with fervour and correct with phlegm.' 
 
 Steele supplied some of the fervour : Addison all the 
 finish, all the phlegm. 
 
 But, it must be repeated, those who love Sir Roger 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. IX 
 
 DE CovERLEY love not these ungenial revelations. 
 They Hke to feel that the fine-hearted creation comes 
 from a single source ; — from those nicely-balanced 
 stores of touching pathos and refined humour ; of 
 sound common-sense and polished wit ; of keen satire 
 and kind words ; of sharp observation and genial 
 description, which exist in the single gentleman who 
 paints his own portrait in the first pages, and who is 
 known wherever English letters can be read, as 
 
 'THE SPECTATOR.' 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Author 
 
 's Preface .... 
 
 . 1 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 Sir Roger and the Club 
 
 9 
 
 II. 
 
 Coverley Hall . 
 
 18 
 
 III. 
 
 The Coverley Household 
 
 . 24 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Coverley Guest 
 
 30 
 
 V. 
 
 The Coverley Lineage 
 
 . 36 
 
 '* VI. 
 
 The Coverley Ghost 
 
 43 
 
 " VII. 
 
 The Coverley Sabbath . 
 
 . 48 
 
 " VIII. 
 
 Sir Roger in Love . 
 
 53 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Coverley CEconomy 
 
 . 62 
 
 X. 
 
 The Coverley Hunt . 
 
 67 
 
 " XI. 
 
 The Coverley Witch . 
 
 . 76 
 
 '' XII. 
 
 A Coverley Love Match . 
 
 82 
 
 " XIII. 
 
 The Coverley Etiquette 
 
 . 89 
 
 " XIV. 
 
 The Coverley Ducks 
 
 94 
 
 " XV. 
 
 Sir Roger on the Bench 
 
 . 100 
 
 " XVI. 
 
 A Story of an Heir . 
 
 106 
 
 " XVII. 
 
 Sir Roger and Party Spirit . 
 
 . 114 
 
 " xvm. 
 
 On Gipseys in General 
 
 121 
 
 " XIX. 
 
 A Summons to London 
 
 . 125 
 
 " XX. 
 
 Farewell to Coverley Hall 
 
 130 
 
xu 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chap. XXI. Sir Roger in London .... 136 
 " XXII. Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey . 142 
 " XXIII. Sir Roger at the Play-house . . 148 
 Sir Roger at Vauxhall . . . 154 
 Sir Roger, The Widow, Will Honey- 
 comb, and Milton . . . 159 
 Sir Roger passeth away . . . 164 
 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Notes and Illustrations. By W. H. Wills. 
 
 171 
 
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 Non ficmum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem 
 Cogitat, ut spedosa dehinc miracula 'promat. 
 
 HOR. 
 
 T HAVE observed, that a Reader seldom peruses a 
 -■- Book with Pleasure, until he knows whether the 
 Writer of it be a black or a fair Man, of a mild or 
 cholerick Disposition, Married or a Bachelor, with other 
 Particulars of the like Nature, that conduce very much 
 to the right Understanding of an Author. To gratify 
 this Curiosity, which is so natural to a Reader, I design 
 this Paper and my next as Prefatory Discourses to my 
 following Writings, and shall give some Account in 
 them of the several Persons that are engaged in this 
 Work. As the chief Trouble of Compiling, Digest- 
 ing, and Correcting, will fall to my Share, I must do 
 myself the Justice to open the Work with my own 
 History. 
 
 I was born to a small Hereditary Estate, which, 
 according to the Tradition of the Village where it 
 lies, was bounded by the same Hedges and Ditches 
 1 
 
2 THE author's preface. 
 
 in William the Conqueror's Time that it is at present, 
 and has been delivered down from Father to Son 
 whole and entire, without the Loss or Acquisition of 
 a single Field or Meadow, during the Space of six 
 hundred Years. There runs a Story in the Family, 
 that my Mother dreamt that she had brought forth 
 a Judge : Whether this might proceed from a Law- 
 Suit which was then depending in the Family, or 
 my Father's being a Justice of the Peace, I cannot 
 determine; for I am not so vain as to think it pre- 
 saged any Dignity that I should arrive at in my future 
 Life, though that was the Interpretation which the 
 Neighbourhood put upon it. The Gravity of my 
 Behaviour at my very first Appearance in the World, 
 seemed to favour my Mother's Dream : For, as she 
 has often told me, I threw away my Rattle before 
 I was two Months old, and would not make use of 
 my Coral until they had taken away the Bells from 
 
 it. 
 
 As for the rest of my Infancy, there being nothing 
 in it remarkable, I shall pass it over in Silence. 1 
 find, that, during my Nonage, I had the Reputation 
 of a very sullen Youth, but was always a Favourite 
 of my Schoolmaster, who used to say, that my Parts 
 were solid, and would ivear well. I had not been 
 long at the University, before I distinguished myself 
 
 i 
 
by a most profound Silence ; for during the Space 
 of eight Years, excepting in the publick Exercises 
 of the College, I scarce uttered the Quantity of an 
 hundred Words ; and indeed do not remember that 
 I ever spoke three Sentences together in my whole 
 Life. Whilst I was in this learned Body, I applied 
 myself with so much Diligence to my Studies, that 
 there are very few celebrated Books, either in the 
 learned or the modern Tongues, which I am not 
 acquainted with. 
 
 Upon the Death of my Father, I was resolved to 
 travel into foreign Countries, and therefore left the 
 University, with the Character of an odd unaccount- 
 able Fellow, that had a great deal of Learning, if 
 I would but show it. An insatiable Thirst after Know- 
 ledge carried me into all the Countries of Europe^ 
 in which there was any thing new or strange to be 
 seen ; nay, to such a Degree was my Curiosity raised, 
 that having read the Controversies of some great Men 
 concerning the Antiquities of Egypt, I made a Voy- 
 age to Grand Cairo on purpose to take the Measure 
 of a Pyramid : And as soon as I had set myself right 
 in that Particular, returned to my native Country with 
 great Satisfaction. 
 
 I have passed my latter Years in this City, where 
 I am frequently seen in most publick Places, though 
 
4 THE author's preface. 
 
 there are not above half a dozen of my select Friends 
 that know me ; of whom my next Paper shall give a 
 more particular Account. There is no Place of gen- 
 eral Resort, wherein I do not often make my Appear- 
 ance ; sometimes I am seen thrusting my Head into 
 a Round of Politicians at WiWs^ and listning with 
 great Attention to the Narratives that are made in 
 those little circular Audiences. Sometimes I smoke 
 a Pipe at Child''s, and whilst I seem attentive to 
 nothing but the Postman, overhear the Conversation 
 of every Table in the Room. I appear on Sunday 
 Nights at St. James'' s Coffee-house, and sometimes 
 join the little Committee of Politicks in the Inner 
 Room, as one who comes there to hear and improve 
 My Face is likewise very well known at the Grecian 
 the Cocoa-Tree, and in the Theatres both of Drury 
 Lane and the Hay-Market. I have been taken for 
 a Merchant upon the Exchange for above these ten 
 Years, and sometimes pass for a Jew in the Assembly 
 of Stock-jobbers at Jonathan'^s : In short, where-ever 
 I see a Cluster of People, I always mix with them, 
 though I never open my Lips but in my own Club. 
 
 Thus I live in the World rather as a Spectator of 
 Mankind, than as one of the Species ; by which Means 
 I have made myself a Speculative Statesman, Soldier, 
 Merchant, and Artisan, without ever meddling with 
 
THE author's preface. 5 
 
 any practical Part in Life. I am very well versed 
 in the Theory of a Husband or a Father, and can 
 discern the Errors in the Oeconomy, Business, and 
 Diversion of others, better than those who are engaged 
 in them ; as Standers-by discover Blots, which are apt 
 to escape those who are in the Game. I never es- 
 poused any Party with Violence, and am resolved to 
 observe an exact Neutrality between the Whigs and 
 Tories, unless I shall be forced to declare myself by 
 the Hostilities of either Side. In short, I have acted 
 in all the Parts of my Life as a Looker-on, which is 
 the Character I intend to preserve in this Paper. 
 
 There are three very material Points which I 
 have not spoken to in this Paper; and which, for 
 several important Reasons, I must keep to myself, at 
 least for some Time ; I mean, an Account of my 
 Name, my Age, and my Lodgings. I must confess, 
 I would gratify my Reader in any Thing that is rea- 
 sonable ; but as for these three Particulars, though I 
 am sensible they might tend very much to the Em- 
 bellishment of my Paper, I cannot yet come to a 
 Resolution of communicating them to the Publick. 
 They would indeed draw mc out of that Obscurity 
 which I have enjoyed for many Years, and expose 
 me in publick Places to several Salutes and Civilities, 
 which have been always very disagreeable to me ; 
 
b THE AUTHOR S PREFACE. 
 
 for the greatest Pain I can suffer, is the being talked 
 to, and being stared at. It is for this Reason likewise, 
 that I keep my Complexion and Dress as very great 
 Secrets ; though it is not impossible, but I may make 
 Discoveries of both in the Progress of the Work I 
 have undertaken. 
 
 After having been thus particular upon myself, 
 I shall in To-morrow's Paper give an Account of 
 those Gentlemen who are concerned with me in this 
 Work ; for, as I have before intimated, a Plan of it 
 is laid and concerted (as all other Matters of Impor- 
 tance are) in a Club. However, as my Friends have 
 engaged me to stand in the Front, those who have a 
 Mind to correspond with me, may direct their Letters 
 to the Spectator, at Mr. Buckley''s in Little-Britain. 
 For I must further acquaint the Reader, that though 
 our Club meets only on Tuesdays and Thursdays^ we 
 have appointed a Committee to sit every Night, for 
 the inspection of all such Papers as may contribute 
 to the Advancement of the Publick Weal. 
 
 The Spectator. 
 London, Thursday, March 1, 1710-11. 
 
Sit iSiOQtV 33e ©OiltVUff* 
 
Sir Roger De Coverley. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Sir Roger and the Club. 
 
 Ast alii sex 
 Et plures uno condamant ore. 
 
 Juv. 
 
 rF HE first of our Society is a Gentleman of Worces- 
 •^ tershire^ of ancient Descent, a Baronet, his Name 
 Sir Roger de Coverley. His Great Grandfather was 
 Inventor of that famous Country-Dance which is called 
 after him. All who know that Shire are very well 
 acquainted with the Parts and Merits of Sir Roger. 
 He is a Gentleman that is very singular in his Beha- 
 viour, but his Singularities proceed from his good 
 Sense, and are Contradictions to the Manners of the 
 World, only as he thinks the World is in the wrong. 
 However, this Humour creates him no Enemies, for 
 he does nothing with Sourness or Obstinacy ; and his 
 being unconfined to Modes and Forms, makes him 
 but the readier and more capable to please and oblige 
 
10 SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 
 
 all who know him. When he is in Town, he lives 
 in Soho-Square. It is said, he keeps himself a Bach- 
 elor by reason he was crossed in Love by a perverse 
 beautiful Widow of the next County to him. Before 
 this disappointment, Sir Roger was what you call a 
 fine Gentleman, had often supped with my Lord 
 Rochester and Sir George Etherege^ fought a Duel 
 upon his first coming to Town, and kicked Bully 
 Dawson in a publick Coffee-house for calling him 
 Youngster. But being ill used by the above-men- 
 tioned Widow, he was very serious for a Year and 
 a half; and, though his Temper being naturally jovial, 
 he at last got over it, he grew careless of himself, 
 and never dressed afterwards. He continues to wear 
 a Coat and Doublet of the same Cut that were in 
 Fashion at the Time of his Repulse, which, in his 
 merry Humours, he tells us, has been in and out 
 twelve Times since he first wore it. He is now in his 
 fifty-sixth Year, cheerful, gay, and hearty; keeps a 
 good House both in Town and Country ; a great 
 Lover of Mankind ; but there is such a mirthful Cast 
 in his Behaviour, that he is rather beloved than es- 
 teemed. His Tenants grow rich, his Servants look 
 satisfied, all the young Women profess Love to him, 
 and the young Men are glad of his Company : When 
 he comes into a House he calls the Servants bv their 
 
SIR ROGEU AND THE CLUB. 11 
 
 Names, and talks all the Way up Stairs to a Visit. 
 I must not omit, that Sir Roger is a Justice of the 
 Quorum ; that he fills the Chair at a Quarter-Session 
 with great Abilities, and three Months ago gained 
 universal Applause by Explaining a Passage in the 
 Game-Act. 
 
 The Gentleman next in Esteem and Authority among 
 us, is another Bachelor, who is a Member of the Inner- 
 Temple ; a Man of great Probity, Wit, and Under- 
 standing ; but he has chosen his Place of Residence 
 rather to obey the Direction of an old humoursom 
 Father, than in pursuit of his own Inclinations. He 
 was placed there to study the Laws of the Land, and 
 is the most learned of any of the House in those of 
 the Stage. Aristotle and Longinus are much better 
 understood by him than Littleton or Coke. The 
 Father sends up every Post Questions relating to 
 Marriage-Articles, Leases, and Tenures, in the Neigh- 
 bourhood ; all which Questions he agrees with an At- 
 torney to answer and take care of in the Lump. He 
 is studying the Passions themselves, when he should 
 be inquiring into the Debates among Men which arise 
 from them. He knows the Argument of each of the 
 Orations of Demosthenes and Tidhj, but not one Case 
 in the Reports of our own Courts. No one ever took 
 him for a Fool, but none, except his intimate Friends, 
 
12 SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 
 
 know he has a great deal of Wit. This Turn makes 
 him at once both disinterested and agreeable : As few 
 of his Thoughts are drawn from Business, they are 
 most of them fit for Conversation. His Taste of 
 Books is a little too just for the Age he lives in ; he 
 has read all, but approves of very few. His Famili- 
 arity with the Customs, Manners, Actions, and Writ- 
 ings of the Ancients, makes him a very delicate 
 Observer of what occurs to him in the present World. 
 He is an excellent Critick, and the Time of the Play 
 is his Hour of Business ; exactly at five he passes 
 through NeW'Inn, crosses through Russell- Court, and 
 takes a turn at WiWs till the Play begins ; he has his 
 Shoes rubbed and his Periwig powdered at the Barber's 
 as you go into the Rose. It is for the Good of the 
 Audience when he is at a Play, for the Actors have an 
 Ambition to please him. 
 
 The Person of next Consideration, is Sir Andrew 
 Freeport, a Merchant of great Eminence in the City 
 of London. A Person of indefatigable Industry, strong 
 Reason, and great Experience. His Notions of Trade 
 are noble and generous, and (as every rich Man has 
 usually some sly Way of Jesting, which would make 
 no great Figure were he not a rich Man) he calls the 
 Sea the British Common. He is acquainted with 
 Commerce in all its Parts, and will tell you that it is a 
 
SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 13 
 
 stupid and barbarous Way to extend Dominion by 
 Arms ; for true Power is to be got by Arts and In- 
 dustry. He will often argue, tbat if tbis Part of our 
 Trade were well cultivated, we should gain from one 
 Nation ; and if another, from another. I have heard 
 him prove, that Diligence makes more lasting Ac- 
 quisitions than Valour, and that Sloth has ruined more 
 Nations than the Sword. He abounds in several 
 frugal Maxims, amongst which the greatest Favourite 
 is, ' A Penny saved is a Penny got ;' ' A general Trader 
 of good Sense is pleasanter Company than a general 
 Scholar ; ' and Sir Andrew having a natural unaffected 
 Eloquence, the Perspicuity of his Discourse gives the 
 same Pleasure that Wit would in another Man. He 
 has made his Fortunes himself; and says that England 
 may be richer than other Kingdoms, by as plain Me- 
 thods as he himself is richer than other Men ; though 
 at the same time I can say this of him, that there is 
 not a Point in the Compass but blows home a Ship in 
 which he is an Owner. 
 
 Next to Sir Andrew in the Club-Room sits Captain 
 Sentrey, a Gentleman of great Courage, good Under- 
 standing, but invincible Modesty. He is one of those 
 that deserve very well, but are very awkward at 
 putting their Talents within the Observation of such as 
 should take notice of them. He was some Years a 
 
14 SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 
 
 Captain, and behaved himself with great Gallantry in 
 several Engagements and at several Sieges ; but hav- 
 ing a small Estate of his own, and being next Heir to 
 Sir Roger, he has quitted a Way of Life in which no 
 Man can rise suitably to his Merit, who is not some- 
 thing of a Courtier as well as a Soldier. I have heard 
 him often lament, that in a Profession where Merit is 
 placed in so conspicuous a View, Impudence should 
 get the better of Modesty. When he has talked to 
 this Purpose I never heard him make a sour Ex- 
 pression, but frankly confess that he left the World, 
 because he was not fit for it. A strict Honesty and an 
 even regular Behaviour, are in themselves Obstacles to 
 him that must press through Crowds, who endeavour 
 at the same End with himself, the Favour of a Com- 
 mander. He will however in his way of Talk excuse 
 Generals, for not disposing according to Men's Desert, 
 or enquiring into it : For, says he, that great Man who 
 has a Mind to help me, has as many to break through 
 to come at me, as I have to come at him : Therefore 
 he will conclude, that the Man who would make a 
 Figure, especially in a Military Way, must get over 
 all false Modesty, and assist his Patron against the 1 
 Importunity of other Pretenders, by a proper Assur- 
 ance in his own Vindication. He says it is a civil 
 Cowardise to be backward in asserting what you ought 
 
SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 15 
 
 to expect, as it is a military Fear to be slow in at- 
 tacking when it is your Duty. With this Candour does 
 the Gentleman speak of himself and others. The 
 same Frankness runs through all his Conversation. 
 The military Part of his Life has furnished him with 
 many Adventures, in the Relation of which he is very 
 agreeable to the Company ; for he is never over- 
 bearing, though accustomed to command Men in the 
 utmost Degree below him ; nor ever too obsequious 
 from an Habit of obeying Men highly above him. 
 
 But that our Society may not appear a Set of 
 Humourists unacquainted with the Gallantries and 
 Pleasures of the Age, we have among us the gallant 
 Will Honeycomb, a Gentleman who according to his 
 Years should be in the Decline of his Life, but having 
 ever been very careful of his Person, and always had 
 a very easy Fortune, Time has made but a very little 
 Impression, either by Wrinkles on his Forehead, or 
 Traces in his Brain. His Person is well turned, of 
 a good Height. He is very ready at that sort of 
 Discourse with which Men usually entertain Women. 
 He has all his Life dressed very well, and remembers 
 Habits as others do Men. He can smile when one 
 speaks to him, and laughs easily. He knows the 
 History of every Mode, and can inform you from 
 which of the French King's Wenches our Wives and 
 
16 SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 
 
 Daughters had this Manner of curling their Hair, that 
 Way of placing their Hoods ; whose Frailty was cov- 
 ered by such a sort of Petticoat, and whose Vanity 
 to shew her Foot made that Part of the Dress so short 
 in such a Year. In a word, all his Conversation and 
 Knowledge have been in the female World : as other 
 Men of his Age will take Notice to you what such a 
 Minister said upon such and such an Occasion, he 
 will tell you when the Duke of Monmouth danced 
 at Court, such a Woman was then smitten, another 
 was taken with him at the Head of his Troop in the 
 Park. In all these important Relations, he has ever 
 about the same time received a kind Glance or a 
 Blow of a Fan from some celebrated Beauty, Mother 
 of the present Lord such-a-one. If you speak of a 
 young Commoner that said a lively thing in the House, 
 he starts up, ' He has good Blood in his Veins, Tom 
 ' Mirahell, the Rogue, cheated me in that Affair : 
 ' that young Fellow's Mother used me more like a 
 ' Dog than any Woman I ever made Advances to.' 
 This way of Talking of his very much enlivens the 
 Conversation among us of a more sedate Turn ; and 
 I find there is not one of the Company, but myself, 
 who rarely speak at all, but speaks of him as of that 
 sort of Man who is usually called a well-bred fine 
 Gentleman. To conclude his Character, where Wo- 
 men are not concerned, he is an honest worthy Man. 
 
SIR ROGER AND THE CLUB. 17 
 
 I cannot tell whether I am to account him whom 
 I am next to speak of, as one of our Company ; for 
 he visits us but seldom, but when he does, it adds to 
 every Man else a new Enjoyment of himself. He is 
 a Clergyman, a very Philosophick Man, of general 
 Learning, great Sanctity of Life, and the most exact 
 good Breeding. He has the Misfortune to be of a 
 very weak Constitution, and, consequently, cannot 
 accept of such Cares and Business as Preferments in 
 his Function would oblige him to : He is therefore 
 among Divines what a Chamber-Counsellor is amono- 
 Lawyers. The Probity of his Mind, and the Integrity 
 of his Life, create him Followers, as being eloquent 
 or loud advances others. He seldom introduces the 
 Subject he speaks upon ; but we are so far gone in 
 Years, that he observes, when he is among us, an 
 Earnestness to have him fall on some divine Topick, 
 which he always treats with much Authority, as one 
 who has no Interests in this World, as one who is 
 hastening to the Object of all his Wishes, and conceives 
 Hope from his Decays and Infirmities. These are 
 my ordinary Companions. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 CovERLEY Hall. 
 
 Hinc tibi Copia 
 Manabit ad plenum, benigno 
 Muris honorum opulenta cornu. Hor. 
 
 TTAVING often received an Invitation from my 
 -^-^ Friend Sir Roger de Coverley, to pass away a 
 Month with him in the Country, I last Week accom- 
 panied him thither, and am settled with him for some 
 Time at his Country-house, where I intend to form 
 several of my ensuing Speculations. Sir Roger, who 
 is very well acquainted with my Humour, lets me rise 
 and go to Bed when I please, dine at his own Table 
 or in my Chamber as I think fit, sit still and say 
 nothing without bidding me be merry. When the 
 Gentlemen of the County come to see him, he only 
 shows me at a Distance : As I have been walking in 
 his Fields I have observed them stealing a Sight of 
 me over an Hedge, and have heard the Knight desir- 
 ing them not to let me see them, for that I hated to 
 be stared at. 
 
COVERLET HALL. 19 
 
 I am the more at Ease in Sir Roger's Family, 
 because it consists of sober and staid Persons ; for as 
 the Knight is the best Master in the World, he seldom 
 changes his Servants ; and as he is beloved by all 
 about him, his Servants never care for leaving him ; 
 by this means his Domesticks are all in Years, and 
 grown old with their Master. You would take his 
 Valet de Chambre for his Brother, his Butler is grey- 
 headed, his Groom is one of the gravest Men that I 
 have ever seen, and his Coachman has the Looks of 
 a Privy-Counsellor. You see the Goodness of the 
 Master even in the old House-dog, and in a gray Pad 
 that is kept in the Stable with great Care and Ten- 
 derness, out of Regard to his past Services, though 
 he has been useless for several Years. 
 
 I could not but observe with a great deal of Pleasure 
 the Joy that appeared in the Countenances of these 
 ancient Domesticks, upon my Friend's Arrival at his 
 Country-Seat. Some of them could not refrain from 
 Tears at the Sight of their old Master ; every one of 
 them pressed forward to do something for him, and 
 seemed discouraged if they were not employed. At 
 the same time the good old Knight, with a Mixture 
 of the Father and the Master of the Family, tempered 
 the Inquiries after his own Affairs with several kind 
 Questions relating to themselves. This Humanity 
 
20 COVERLEY HALL. 
 
 and Good -nature engages every Body to him, so that 
 when he is pleasant upon any of them, all his Family 
 are in good Humour, and none so much as the Person 
 whom he diverts himself with : On the contrary, if he 
 coughs, or betrays any Infirmity of old Age, it is easy 
 for a Stander-by to observe a secret Concern in the 
 Looks of all his Servants. 
 
 My worthy Friend has put me under the particular 
 Care of his Butler, who is a very prudent Man, and, 
 as well as the rest of his Fellow-Servants, wonderfully 
 desirous of pleasing me, because they have often 
 heard their Master talk of me as of his particular 
 Friend. 
 
 My chief Companion, when Sir Roger is divert- 
 ing himself in the Woods or the Fields, is a very 
 venerable Man who is ever with Sir Roger, and has 
 lived at his House in the Nature of a Chaplain above 
 thirty Years. This Gentleman is a Person of good 
 Sense and some Learning, of a very regular Life 
 and obliging Conversation : He heartily loves Sir 
 Roger, and knows that he is very much in the old 
 Knight's Esteemv, so that he lives in the Family rather 
 as a Relation than a Dependent. 
 
 I have observed in several of my Papers, that my 
 Friend Sir Roger, amidst all his good Qualities, is 
 something of an Humourist ; and that his Virtues, as 
 
COVERLEY HALL. 21 
 
 well as Imperfections, are as it were tinged by a 
 certain Extravagance, which makes them particularly 
 Jiis, and distinguishes them from those of other Men. 
 This Cast of Mind, as it is generally very innocent 
 in itself, so it renders his Conversation highly agree- 
 able, and more delightful than the same Degree of 
 Sense and Virtue would appear in their common and 
 ordinary Colours. As I was walking with him last 
 Night, he asked me how I liked the good Man whom 
 I have just now mentioned .? and without staying for 
 my Answer told me, That he was afraid of being 
 insulted with Latin and Greek at his own Table ; for 
 which Reason he desired a particular Friend of his 
 at the University, to find him out a Clergyman rather 
 of plain Sense than much Learning, of a good As- 
 pect, a clear Voice, a sociable Temper ; and, if pos- 
 sible, a Man that understood a little of Back-Gammon. 
 My Friend, says Sir Roger, found me out this Gen- 
 tleman, who, besides the Endowments required of 
 him, is, they tell me, a good Scholar, though he does 
 not shew it : I have given him the Parsonage of the 
 Parish ; and because I know his Value, have settled 
 upon him a good Annuity for Life. If he outlives 
 me, he shall find that he was higher in my Esteem 
 than perhaps he thinks he is. He has now been with 
 me thirty Years ; and though he does not know I have 
 
22 COVERLET HALL. 
 
 taken notice of it, has never in all that time asked any 
 thing of me for himself, though he is every Day 
 solicitincr me for somethincr in Behalf of one or other 
 of my Tenants his Parishioners. There has not been 
 a Law-suit in the Parish since he has lived amonsr 
 them : if any Dispute arises they apply themselves to 
 him for the Decision ; if they do not acquiesce in his 
 Judgment, which I think never happened above once 
 or twice at most, they appeal to me. At his first 
 settling with me, I made him a Present of all the good 
 Sermons which have been printed in English^ and 
 only begged of him that every Sunday he would 
 pronounce one of them in the Pulpit. Accordingly 
 he has digested them into such a Series, that they 
 follow one another naturally, and make a continued 
 System of practical Divinity. 
 
 As Sir Roger was going on in his Story, the 
 Gentleman we were talking of came up to us ; and 
 upon the Knight's asking him who preached To- 
 morrow (for it was Saturday Night) told us, the 
 Bishop of St. Asaph in the Morning, and Dr. South 
 in the Afternoon. He then shewed us his List of 
 Preachers for the whole Year, where I saw with a 
 great deal of Pleasure Archbishop Tillotson, Bishop 
 Saunderson, Dr. Barrow, Dr. CaJa?ny, with several 
 living Authors who have published Discourses of 
 
I 
 
 COVERLEY HALL. 23 
 
 Practical Divinity. I no sooner saw this venerable 
 Man in the Pulpit, but I very much approved of my 
 Friend's insisting upon the Qualifications of a good 
 Aspect and a clear Voice ; for 1 was so charmed with 
 the Gracefulness of his Figure and Delivery, as well 
 as with the Discourses he pronounced, that I think I 
 never passed any Time more to my Satisfaction. A 
 Sermon repeated after this Manner, is like the Com- 
 position of a Poet in the Mouth of a graceful Actor. 
 I could heartily wish that more of our Country- 
 Clergy would follow this Example ; and instead of 
 wasting their Spirits in laborious Compositions of their 
 own, would endeavour after a handsom Elocution, 
 and all those other Talents that are proper to enforce 
 what has been penned by greater Masters. This 
 would not only be more easy to themselves, but more 
 edifying to the People. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Coverley Household. 
 
 JEsopo ingentem statvam posuere Attici, 
 Servumque collocdrvnt JEterna in Bast, 
 Patere honoris scirent ut Cunctis viam. 
 
 nPHE Reception, manner of Attendance, undisturbed 
 Freedom and Quiet, which I meet with here in the 
 Country, has confirmed me in the Opinion 1 always 
 had, that the general Corruption of Manners in Ser- 
 vants is owing to the Conduct of Masters. The 
 Aspect of every one in the Family carries so much 
 Satisfaction, that it appears he knows the happy Lot 
 which has befallen him in being a Member of it. 
 There is one Particular which I have seldom seen 
 but at Sir Roger's ; it is usual in all other places, that 
 Servants fly from the Parts of the House through 
 which their Master is passing : on the contrary, here 
 they industriously place themselves in his Way ; and 
 it is on both Sides, as it were, understood as a Visit, 
 when the Servants appear without calling. This 
 
THE COVERLET HOUSEHOLD. 25 
 
 proceeds from the human and equal Temper of the 
 Man of the House, who also perfectly well knows how 
 to enjoy a great Estate, with such Oeconomy as ever 
 to be much beforehand. This makes his own Mind 
 untroubled, and consequently unapt to vent peevish 
 Expressions, or give passionate or inconsistent Orders 
 to those about him. Thus Respect and Love go 
 together ; and a certain Chearfulness in Performance 
 of their Duty is the particular Distinction of the lower 
 Part of this Family. • When a Servant is called before 
 his Master, he does not come with an Expectation to 
 hear himself rated for some trivial Fault, threatened 
 to be stripped or used with any other unbecoming 
 Language, which mean Masters often give to worthy 
 Servants ; but it is often to know, what Road he took 
 that he came so readily back according to Order ; 
 whether he passed by such a Ground, if the old Man 
 who rents it is in good Health ; or whether he gave 
 Sir Roger's Love to him, or the like. 
 
 A Man who preserves a Respect, founded on his 
 Benevolence to his Dependents, lives rather like a 
 Prince than a Master in his Family ; his Orders are 
 received as Favours, rather than Duties ; and the 
 Distinction of approaching him is Part of the Reward 
 for executing what is commanded by him. 
 
 There is another Circumstance in which my Friend 
 
26 THE COVERLEY HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 excels in his Management, which is the Manner of 
 rewarding his Servants : He has ever been of Opinion, 
 that giving his cast Clothes to be worn by Valets has a 
 very ill effect upon little Minds, and creates a silly 
 Sense of Equality between the Parties, in Persons 
 affected only with outward things. I have heard him 
 often pleasant on this Occasion, and describe a young 
 Gentleman abusing his Man in that Coat, which a 
 Month or two before was the most pleasing Distinction 
 he was conscious of in himself. He would turn his 
 Discourse still more pleasantly upon the Ladies' Boun- 
 ties of this kind ; and I have heard him say he knew 
 a fine Woman, who distributed Rewards and Punish- 
 ments in giving becoming or unbecoming Dresses to 
 her Maids. 
 
 But my good Friend is above these little Instances 
 of Good-will, in bestowing only Trifles on his Ser- 
 vants ; a good Servant to him is sure of having it in 
 his Choice very soon of being no Servant at all. As I 
 before observed, he is so good an Husband, and knows 
 so thoroughly that the Skill of the Purse is the 
 Cardinal Virtue of this Life ; I say, he knows so well 
 that Frugality is the Support of Generosity, that he 
 can often spare a large Fine when a Tenement falls, 
 and give that Settlement to a good Servant who has a 
 mind to go into the World, or make a Stranger pay 
 
THE COVERLEY HOUSEHOLD. 27 
 
 the Fine to that Servant, for his more comfortable 
 Maintenance, if he stays in his Service. 
 
 A Man of Honour and Generosity considers it would 
 be miserable to himself to have no Will but that of 
 another, though it were of the best Person breathing, 
 and for that Reason goes on as fast as he is able to 
 put his Servants into independent Livelihoods. The 
 greatest Part of Sir Roger's Estate is tenanted by 
 Persons who have served himself or his Ancestors. 
 It was to me extremely pleasant to observe the 
 Visitants from several Parts to welcome his Arrival 
 into the Country ; and all the Difference that I could 
 take notice of between the late Servants who came to 
 see him, and those who staid in the Family, was that 
 these latter were looked upon as finer Gentlemen and 
 better Courtiers. 
 
 This Manumission and placing them in a way of 
 Livelihood, I look upon as only what is due to a good 
 Servant, which Encouragement will make his Suc- 
 cessor be as diligent, as humble, and as ready as he 
 was. There is somethino; wonderful in the Narrow- 
 ness of those Minds, which can be pleased, and be 
 barren of Bounty to those who please them. 
 
 One might, on this Occasion, recount the Sense that 
 Great Persons in all Ages have had of the Merit of 
 their Dependents, and the Heroic Services which Men 
 
28 THE COVERLET HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 have done their Masters in the Extremity of their 
 Fortunes ; and shewn to their undone Patrons, that 
 Fortune was all the Difference between them ; but as 
 I design this my Speculation only as a gentle Ad- 
 monition to thankless Masters, I shall not go out of 
 the Occurrences of common Life, but assert it as 
 a general Observation, that I never saw, but in Sir 
 Roger's Family, and one or two more, good Servants 
 treated as they ought to be. Sir Roger's Kindness 
 extends to their Children's Children, and this very 
 Morning he sent his Coachman's Grandson to Prentice. 
 I shall conclude this Paper with an Account of a 
 Picture in his Gallery, where there are many which 
 will deserve my future Observation. 
 
 At the very upper End of this handsom Structure I 
 saw the Portraiture of two young Men standing in a 
 River, the one Naked, the other in a Livery. The 
 Person supported seemed half Dead, but still so much 
 alive as to shew in his Face exquisite Joy and Love ! 
 towards the other. I thouo-ht the faintino; Figure 
 resembled my Friend Sir Roger ; and looking at the 
 Butler, who stood by me, for an Account of it, he 
 informed me that the Person in the Livery was a 
 Servant of Sir Roger's, who stood on the Shore while 
 his Master was swimming, and observing him taken 
 with some sudden Illness, and sink under Water, 
 
THE COVERLEY HOUSEHOLD. 29 
 
 jumped in and saved him. He told me Sir Roger 
 took off the Dress he was in as soon as he came home, 
 and by a great Bounty at that time, followed by his 
 Favour ever since, had made him Master of that pretty 
 Seat which we saw at a distance as we came to this 
 House. I remembered indeed Sir Roger said there 
 lived a very worthy Gentleman, to whom he was 
 highly obliged, without mentioning any thing further. 
 Upon my looking a little dissatisfyed at some part of 
 the Picture, mv Attendant informed me that it was 
 against Sir Roger's Will, and at the earnest Request 
 of the Gentleman himself, that he was drawn in the 
 Habit in which he had saved his Master. 
 
CHAPTER lY. 
 
 The Coverley Guest. 
 Gratis anhelans, multa agendo nihil agens. Ph^dr. 
 
 A S I was Yesterday Morning walking with Sir 
 -^^ Roger before his House, a Country-Fellow brought 
 him a huge Fish, which, he told him, Mr. William 
 Wimble had caught that very Morning ; and that he 
 presented it, with his Service to him, and intended to 
 come and dine with him. At the same time he 
 delivered a Letter, which my Friend read to me as 
 soon as the Messenger left him. 
 
 ' Sir Roger, 
 ' T Desire you to accept of a Jack, which is the best 
 ' -^ I have caught this Season. I intend to come and 
 ' stay with you a Week, and see how the Perch bite in 
 ' the Black River. I observed with some Concern, 
 ' the last time I saw you upon the Bovv^ling-Green, that 
 ' your Whip wanted a Lash to it ; I will bring half a 
 
THE COVERLEY GUEST. 31 
 
 ' dozen with me that I twisted last Week, which I 
 ' hope will serve you all the Time you are in the 
 ' Country. I have not been out of the Saddle for six 
 ' Days last past, having been at Eaton with Sir Johri's 
 ' eldest Son. He takes to his Learning hugely. I am, 
 ' iSJ-R, Your Humble Servant^ 
 
 ' Will Wimble.' 
 
 This extraordinary Letter, and Message that ac- 
 companied it, made me very curious to know the 
 Character and Quality of the Gentleman who sent 
 them ; which I found to be as follows. Will Wimhle 
 is younger Brother to a Baronet, and descended of the 
 ancient Family of the Wi7nhles. He is now between 
 Forty and Fifty ; but being bred to no Business and 
 born to no Estate, he generally lives with his elder 
 Brother as Superintendant of his Game. He hunts a 
 Pack of Dogs better than any Man in the Country, and 
 is very famous for finding out a Hare. He is 
 extremely well versed in all the little Handicrafts of 
 an idle Man : He makes a May-fly to a Miracle ; and 
 furnishes the whole Country with Angle-Rods. As 
 he is a good-natured officious Fellow, and very much 
 esteemed upon Account of his Family, he is a wel- 
 come Guest at every House, and keeps up a good 
 Correspondence among all the Gentlemen about him. 
 
32 THE COVERLEY GUEST. 
 
 He carries a Tulip-Root in his Pocket from one to 
 another, or exchanges a Puppy between a Couple of 
 Friends that live perhaps in the opposite Sides of the 
 Country. Will is a particular Favourite of all the 
 young Heirs, whom he frequently obliges with a Net 
 that he has weaved, or a Setting-dog that he has made 
 himself. He now and then presents a Pair of Garters 
 of his own knitting to their Mothers or Sisters ; and 
 raises a great deal of Mirth among them, by inquiring 
 as often as he meets them how they laear ? These 
 Gentleman-like Manufactures and obliging little hu- 
 mours make Will the Darling of the Country. 
 
 Sir Roger was proceeding in the Character of him, 
 when we saw him make up to us with two or three 
 Hazle-twigs in his Hand that he had cut in Sir 
 Roger's Woods, as he came through them, in his 
 Way to the Plouse, I was very much pleased to 
 observe on one Side the hearty and sincere Welcome 
 with which Sir Roger received him, and on the other, 
 the secret Joy which his Guest discovered at Sight of 
 the good old Knight. After the first Salutes were 
 over, Will desired Sir Roger to lend him one of his 
 Servants to carry a Set of Shuttlecocks he had with 
 him in a little Box to a Lady that lived about a Mile 
 off, to whom it seems he had promised such a Present 
 for above this half year. Sir Roger's Back was no 
 
THE COVERLEY GUEST. 33 
 
 sooner turned but honest Will began to tell me of a 
 large Cock-pheasant that he had sprung in one of the 
 neighbouring Woods, with two or three other Adven- 
 tures of the same Nature. Odd and uncommon 
 Characters are the Game that I look for, and most 
 delight in ; for which Reason I was as much pleased 
 with the Novelty of the Person that talked to me, as 
 he could be for his Life with the springing of a 
 Pheasant, and therefore listened to him with more 
 than ordinary Attention. 
 
 In the midst of his Discourse the Bell rung to 
 Dinner, where the Gentleman I have been speaking of 
 had the Pleasure of seeing the huge Jack, he had 
 caught, served up for the first Dish in a most sump- 
 tuous Manner. Upon our sitting down to it he gave 
 us a long Account how he had hooked it, played with 
 it, foiled it, and at length drew it out upon the Bank, 
 with several other Particulars that lasted all the first 
 Course. A Dish of Wild-fowl that came afterwards 
 furnished Conversation for the rest of the Dinner, 
 which concluded with a late Invention of WiWs for 
 improving the Quail-pipe. 
 
 Upon withdrawing into my Room after Dinner, I 
 
 was secretly touched with Compassion towards the 
 
 honest Gentleman that had dined with us ; and could 
 
 not but consider with a great deal of Concern, how so 
 
 3 
 
34 THE COVERLET GUEST. 
 
 good an Heart and such busy Hands were wholly 
 employed in Trifles ; that so much Humanity should 
 be so little beneficial to others, and so much Industry 
 so little advantageous to himself. The same Temper 
 of Mind and Application to Affairs might have recom- 
 mended him to the publick Esteem, and have raised 
 his Fortune in another Station of Life. What Good 
 to his Country or himself might not a Trader or a 
 Merchant have done with such useful though ordinary 
 Qualifications ? 
 
 Will Wimble's is the Case of many a younger 
 Brother of a great Family, who had rather see their 
 Children starve like Gentlemen, than thrive in a Trade 
 or Profession that is beneath their Quality. This 
 Humour fills several Parts of Europe with Pride and 
 Beggary. It is the Happiness of a Trading Nation, 
 like ours, that the younger Sons, though uncapable of 
 any liberal Art or Profession, may be placed in such 
 a Way of Life, as may perhaps enable them to vie 
 with the best of their Family : Accordingly we find 
 several Citizens that were launched into the World 
 with narrow Fortunes, rising by an honest Industry to 
 greater Estates than those of their elder Brothers. It 
 is not improbable but Will was formerly tried at 
 Divinity, Law, or Physick ; and that finding his Genius 
 did not lie that Way, his Parents gave him up at 
 
THE COVERLET GUEST. 35 
 
 length to his own Inventions. But certainly, however 
 improper he might have been for Studies of a higher 
 Nature, he was perfectly well turned for the Occu- 
 pations of Trade and Commerce. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Coverley Lineage. 
 Abnormis sapiens Horace. 
 
 T WAS this Morning walking in the Gallery, when 
 -*- Sir Roger entered at the End opposite to me, and 
 advancing towards me, said he was glad to meet me 
 among his Relations the De Coverlets, and hoped I 
 liked the Conversation of so much good Company, 
 who were as silent as myself. I knew he alluded to 
 the Pictures, and as he is a Gentleman who does not 
 a little value himself upon his ancient Descent, I 
 expected he would give me some jl^.ccount of them. 
 We were now arrived at the Upper-end of the Gal- 
 lery, when the Knight faced towards one of the 
 Pictures, and as we stood before it, he entered into the 
 matter, after his blunt way of saying Things, as they 
 occur to his Imagination, without regular Introduction, 
 or Care to preserve the Appearance of Chain of 
 Thought. 
 
 ' It is,' said he, ' worth while to consider the Force 
 
THE COVERLET LINEAGE. 37 
 
 ' of dress ; and how the Persons of one Age differ from 
 ' those of another, merely by that only. One may 
 ' observe also, that the general Fashion of one Age 
 ' has been followed by one particular Set of People in 
 ' another, and by them preserved from one Generation 
 ' to another. Thus the vast jetting Coat and small 
 ' Bonnet, which was the Habit in Harry the Seventh's 
 ' Time, is kept on in the Yeomen of the Guard ; not 
 ' without a good and politick View, because they look 
 ' a Foot taller, and a Foot and an half broader : Be- 
 ' sides that the Cap leaves the Face expanded, and 
 ' consequently more terrible, and fitter to stand at the 
 ' Entrance of Palaces. 
 
 ' This Predecessor of ours, you see, is dressed after 
 ' this manner, and his Cheeks would be no larger than 
 ' mine, were he in a Hat as I am. He was the last 
 ' Man that won a Prize in the Tilt- Yard (which is now 
 ' a Common Street before Whitehall). You see the 
 ' broken Lance that lies there by his right Foot ; He 
 ' shivered that Lance of his Adversary all to Pieces ; 
 ' and bearing himself, look you. Sir, in this manner, 
 ' at the same time he came within the Target of the 
 ' Gentleman who rode against him, and taking him 
 ' with incredible Force before him on the Pommel of 
 'his Saddle, he in that manner rid the Turnament 
 ' over, with an Air that shewed he did it rather to 
 
38 THE COVERLET LINEAGE. 
 
 ' perform the Rule of the Lists, than expose his Ene- 
 ' my ; however, it appeared he knew how to make 
 ' use of a Victory, and with a gentle Trot he marched 
 'up to a Gallery where their Mistress sat (for they 
 'were Rivals), and let him down with laudable Cour- 
 ' tesy and pardonable Insolence. I don't know but it 
 ' might be exactly where the Coffee-house is now. 
 
 ' You are to know this my Ancestor was not only 
 ' of a military Genius, but fit also for the Arts of 
 ' Peace, for he played on the Bass- Viol as well as any 
 ' Gentleman at Court ; you see where his Viol hangs 
 ' by his Basket-hilt Sword. The Action at the Tilt- 
 ' Yard you may be sure won the fair Lady, who was a 
 ' Maid of Honour, and the greatest Beauty of her 
 ' Time ; here she stands the next Picture. You see, 
 ' Sir, my Great Great Great Grandmother has on the 
 ' new-fashioned Petticoat, except that the Modern is 
 ' gathered at the Waste ; my Grandmother appears 
 ' as if she stood in a large Drum, whereas the Ladies 
 ' now walk as if they were in a Go-Cart. For all this 
 ' Lady was bred at Court, she became an excellent 
 ' Country-Wife, she brought ten Children, and when 1 
 ' shew you the Library, you shall see in her own 
 ' Hand (allowing for the Difference of the Language) 
 ' the best Receipt now in England both for an Hasty- 
 ' pudding and a White-pot. 
 
THE COVERLEY LINEAGE. 39 
 
 ' If you please to fall back a little, because 'tis 
 ' necessary to look at the three next Pictures at one 
 ' View : these are three Sisters. She on the risht 
 
 * Hand, who is so very beautiful, died a Maid : the 
 ' next to her, still handsomer, had the same Fate, 
 ' against her will ; this Homely Thing in the middle 
 ' had both their Portions added to her own, and was 
 ' stolen by a neighbouring Gentleman, a Man of Strat- 
 ' agem and Resolution, for he poisoned three Mastiffs 
 ' to come at her, and knocked down two Deer-stealers 
 ' in carrying her off. Misfortunes happen in all Fami- 
 ' lies : The Theft of this Romp and so much Money, 
 ' was no great matter to our Estate. But the next 
 ' Heir that possessed it was this soft Gentleman, whom 
 ' you see there : Observe the small Buttons, the little 
 ' Boots, the Laces, the Slashes about his Clothes, and 
 ' above all the Posture he is drawn in, (which to be 
 'sure was his own choosing;) you see he sits with 
 ' one Hand on a Desk writinor and looking as it were 
 ' another way, like an easy Writer, or a Sonneteer : 
 ' He was one of those that had too much Wit to know 
 ' how to live in the World ; he was a Man of no Jus- 
 ' tice, but great Good-Manners ; he ruined every Body 
 
 * that had any thing to do with him, but never said a 
 
 * rude thing in his Life ; the most indolent Person in the 
 ' World, he would sign a Deed that passed away half 
 
40 THE COVERLET LINEAGE. 
 
 ' his Estate with his Gloves on, but would not put on 
 ' his Hat before a Lady if it were to save his Country. 
 ' He is said to be the first that made Love by squeez- 
 ' ing the Hand. He left the Estate with ten thousand 
 ' Pounds Debt upon it : but however by all Hands I 
 ' have been informed that he was every way the finest 
 ' Gentleman in the World. That Debt lay heavy on 
 ' our House for one Generation, but it was retrieved 
 ' by a Gift from that honest Man you see there, a 
 * Citizen of our Name, but nothing at all akin to us. 
 '■ I know Sir Andrew Freeport has said behind my 
 ' Back, that this Man was descended from one of the 
 ' ten Children of the Maid of Honour I shewed you 
 ' above ; but it was never made out. We winked at 
 ' the thing indeed, because Money was wanting at that 
 'time.' 1 
 
 Here I saw my Fi'iend a little embarrassed, and 
 turned my Face to the next Portraiture. 
 
 Sir Roger went on with his Account of the Gallery | 
 m the following manner. 'This Man' (pointing to 
 him I looked at) ' I take to be the Honour of our 
 ' House, Sir Humphrey de Coverley ; he was in ■» 
 ' his Dealings as punctual as a Tradesman, and as 
 ' generous as a Gentleman. He would have thought 
 ' himself as much undone by breaking his Word, as if 
 ' it were to be followed by Bankruptcy. He served 
 
THE COVERLET LINEAGE. 41 
 
 * his Country as Knight of this Shire to his dying Day. 
 
 * He found it no easy matter to maintain an Integrity 
 
 * in his Words and Actions, even in things that re- 
 ' garded the Offices which were incumbent upon him, 
 ' in the Care of his own Affairs and Relations of Life, 
 ' and therefore dreaded (though he had great Talents) 
 ' to go into Employments of State, where he must be 
 ' exposed to the Snares of Ambition. Innocence of 
 ' Life and great Ability were the distinguishing Parts 
 'of his Character; the latter, he had often observed, 
 ' had led to the Destruction of the former, and used 
 
 * frequently to lament that Great and Good had not the 
 ' same Signification. He was an excellent Husband- 
 ' man, but had resolv'd not to exceed such a Degree 
 ' of Wealth ; all above it he bestowed in secret Boun- 
 ' ties many Years after the Sum he aimed at for his 
 ' own Use was attained. Yet he did not slacken his 
 'Industry, but to a decent old Age spent the Life and 
 ' Fortune which was superfluous to himself, in the 
 
 * Service of his Friends and Neighbours.' 
 
 Here we were called to Dinner, and Sir Roger 
 ended the Discourse of this Gentleman, by telling me, 
 as we followed the Servant, that this his Ancestor was 
 a brave Man, and narrowly escaped being killed in 
 the Civil Wars; 'For,' said he, 'he was sent out of 
 ' the Field upon a private Message, the Day before the 
 ' Battle of Worcester.^ 
 
42 THE COVERLEY LINEAGE. * 
 
 The Whim of narrowly escaping by having been 
 within a Day of Danger, with other Matters above- 
 mentioned, mixed with good Sense, left me at a loss 
 whether I was more delighted with my Friend's 
 Wisdom or Simplicity. 
 
 4 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Coverley Ghost. 
 
 Horror ubique animos^ simul ipsa silentia terrent. Yirg. 
 
 A T a little distance from Sir Roger's House, among 
 -^^ the Ruins of an old Abbey, there is a long Walk 
 of aged Elms; which are shot up so very high, that 
 when one passes under them, the Rooks and Crows 
 that rest upon the Tops of them seem to be Cawing in 
 another Region. I am very much delighted with this 
 sort of Noise, which I consider as a kind of natural 
 Prayer to that Being who supplies the Wants of his 
 whole Creation, and who, in the beautiful Language 
 of the Psalms, feedeth the young Ravens that call 
 upon Him. I like this Retirement the better, because 
 of an ill Report it lies under of bein^ haunted ; for 
 which Reason (as I have been told in the Family) no 
 living Creature ever walks in it besides the Chaplain. 
 My good Friend the Butler desired me with a very 
 grave Face not to venture myself in it after Sun-set, 
 for that one of the Footmen had been almost frighted 
 
44 THE COVERLET GHOST. 
 
 out of his Wits by a Spirit that appeared to him in the 
 Shape of a black Horse without an Head ; to which he 
 added, that about a Month ago one of the Maids 
 coming home late that way with a Pail of Milk upon 
 her Head, heard such a Rustling among the Bushes 
 that she let it fall, 
 
 I was taking a Walk in this Place last Night 
 between the Hours of Nine and Ten, and could not 
 but fancy it one of the most proper Scenes in the 
 World for a Ghost to appear in. The E,uins of the 
 Abbey are scattered up and down on every Side, and 
 half covered with Ivy and Elder-Bushes, the Harbours 
 of several solitary Birds which seldom make their 
 Appearance till the Dusk of the Evening. The Place 
 was formerly a Churchyard, and has still several 
 Marks in it of Graves and Burying-Places. There is 
 such an Echo among the old Ruins and Vaults, that if 
 you stamp but a little louder than ordinary, you hear 
 the Sound repeated. At the same time the Walk of 
 Elms, with the Croaking of the Ravens which from 
 time to time are heard from the Tops of them, looks 
 exceeding solemn and venerable. These Objects 
 naturally raise Seriousness and Attention ; and when 
 Night heightens the Awfulness of the Place, and pours 
 out her supernumerary Horrors upon every thing in it, 
 I do not at all wonder that weak Minds fill it with 
 Spectres and Apparitions. 
 
 J 
 
THE COVERLET GHOST. 45 
 
 ]\Ir. Locke, in his Chapter of the Association of 
 Ideas, has very curious Remarks to shew how by the 
 Prejudice of Education one Idea often introduces into 
 the Mind a whole Set that bear no Resemblance to 
 one another in the Nature of things. Among several 
 Examples of this Kind, he produces the following 
 Instance. The Ideas of Gohlins and Sprights have 
 really no more to do with Darkness than Light : 
 Yet let hut a foolish Maid inculcate these often on 
 the Mind of a Child, and raise them there together^ 
 possibly he shall never he able to separate them again 
 so long as he lives; but Darkness shall ever after- 
 wards bring with it those frightful Ideas, and they 
 shall be so joined that he can no more bear the one 
 than the other. 
 
 As I was walking in this Solitude, where the Dusk 
 of the Evening conspired with so many other Oc- 
 casions of Terror, I observed a Cow grazing not far 
 from me, which an Imagination that was apt to startle 
 might easily have construed into a black Horse with- 
 out an Head : And I dare say the poor Footman lost 
 his Wits upon some such trivial Occasion. 
 
 My Friend Sir Rog]:r has often told me with a good 
 deal of Mirth, that at his first coming to his Estate he 
 found three Parts of his House altogether useless ; 
 that the best Room in it had the Reputation of being 
 
46 THE COVERLEY GHOST. 
 
 haunted, and by that means was locked up ; that 
 Noises had been heard in his long Gallery, so that he 
 could not get a Servant to enter it after eight o'Clock 
 at Night ; that the Door of one of his Chambers was 
 nailed up, because there went a Story in the Family 
 that a Butler had formerly hang'd himself in it ; and 
 that his Mother, who lived to a great Age, had shut up 
 half the Rooms in the House, in which either her 
 Husband, a Son, or Daughter had died. The Knight 
 seeing his Habitation reduced to so small a Compass, 
 and himself in a Manner shut out of his own House, 
 upon the Death of his Mother ordered all the Apart- 
 ments to be flung open and exorcised by his Chaplain, 
 who lay in every Room one after another, and by that 
 means dissipated the Fears which had so long reigned 
 in the Family. 
 
 I should not have been thus particular upon these 
 ridiculous Horrors, did not I find them so very much 
 prevail in all Parts of the Country. At the same Time 
 I think a Person who is thus terrify'd with the Im- 
 agination of Ghosts and Spectres much more reasona- 
 ble than one who, contrary to the Report of all 
 Historians sacred and profane, ancient and modern, 
 and to the Traditions of all Nations, thinks the Ap- 
 pearance of Spirits fabulous and groundless : Could 
 not I give myself up to this general Testimony of 
 
THE COVERLEY GHOST. 47 
 
 Mankind, I should to the Relations of particular Per- 
 sons who are now living, and whom I cannot distrust 
 in other Matters of Fact. I might here add, that not 
 only the Historians, to whom we may join the Poets, 
 but likewise the Philosophers of Antiquity have fa- 
 voured this Opinion. 
 
CHAPTER YII. 
 
 The Coverley Sabbath. 
 
 '^6avuiiig uiv ttqcotu &st!g, ru^ito log diuy.sirai, 
 Tiua. PytHAG. 
 
 T AM always very well pleased with a Country Sun- 
 -L day, and think, if keeping holy the seventh Day 
 were only a human Institution, it would be the best 
 Method that could have been thought of for the polish- 
 ing and civilizing of Mankind. It is certain the Country- 
 People would soon degenerate into a kind of Savages 
 and Barbarians, were there not such frequent Returns 
 of a stated Time, in which the whole Village meet 
 together with their best Faces, and in their cleanliest 
 Habits to converse with one another upon indifferent 
 Subjects, hear their Duties explained to them, and join 
 together in Adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday 
 clears away the Rust of the whole Week, not only as it 
 refreshes in their Minds the Notions of Religion, but 
 as it puts both the Sexes upon appearing in their most 
 agreeable Forms, and exerting all such Qualities as 
 
 i 
 
 il 
 
THE COVERLEY SABBATH. 49 
 
 are apt to give them a Figure in the Eye of the Vil- 
 lage. A Country Fellow distinguishes himself as 
 
 I much in the Church-yard^ as a Citizen does upon the 
 Change^ the whole Parish-Politicks being generally 
 discussed in that place either after Sermon or before 
 the Bell rings. 
 
 My Friend, Sir Roger, being a good Churchman, 
 has beautified the Inside of his Church with several 
 Texts of his own choosing : He has likewise given a 
 handsom Pulpit-Cloth, and railed in the Communion- 
 
 j Table at his own Expence. He has often told me^ 
 that at his coming to his Estate he found his Par- 
 ishioners very irregular ; and that in order to make 
 them kneel and join in the Responses, he gave every 
 one of them a Hassock and a Common-prayer-Book : 
 and at the same time employed an itinerant Singing 
 Master, who goes about the Country for that purpose, 
 to instruct them rightly in the Tunes of tlie Psalms ; 
 upon which they now veiy much valae themselves, 
 and indeed out-do most of the Country Churches that 
 I have ever heard. 
 
 As Sir Roger is Landlord to the whole Congre- 
 gation, he keeps them in very good Order, and will 
 suffer no body to sleep in it besides himself; for if bj* 
 Chance he has been surprised into a short Nap at 
 Sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and 
 4 
 
50 THE COVERLEY SABBATH. 
 
 looks about him, and if he sees any Body else nodding, 
 either wakes them himself, or sends his Servants to 
 them. Several other of the old Knight's Particulari- 
 ties break out upon these Occasions : Sometimes he 
 will be lengthening out a Verse in the Singing-Psalms, 
 half a Minute after the rest of the Congregation have 
 done with it ; sometimes when he is pleased with the 
 Matter of his Devotion, he pronounces Amen three or 
 four times to the same Prayer; and sometimes stands 
 up when every Body else is upon their Knees, to 
 count the Congregation, or see if any of his Tenants 
 are missing. 
 
 I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my 
 old Friend, in the midst of the Service, calling out to 
 one John Matthews to mind what he was about, and 
 not disturb the Congregation, This John Matthews it 
 seems is remarkable for being an idle Fellow, and at 
 that time was kicking his Heels for his Diversion. 
 This Authority of the Knight, though exerted in that 
 odd manner which accompanies him in all Circum- 
 stances of Life, has a very good Effect upon the 
 Parish, who are not polite enough to see any thing 
 ridiculous in his Behaviour ; besides that the general 
 good Sense and Worthiness of his Character makes 
 his Friends observe these little Singularities as Foils 
 that rather set off than blemish his good Qualities. 
 
 J 
 
THE COVERLET SABBATH. 51 
 
 As soon as the Sermon is finished, nobody pre- 
 sumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the Church. 
 The Knight walks down from his Seat in the Chancel 
 between a double Row of his Tenants, that stand 
 bowing to him on each Side ; and every now and then 
 inquires how such an one's Wife, or Mother, or Son, 
 or Father do, whom he does not see at Church ; 
 which is understood as a secret Reprimand to the 
 Person that is absent. 
 
 The Chaplain has often told me, that upon a Cate- 
 chising Day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with 
 a Boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be 
 given him next Day for his Encouragement ; and 
 sometimes accompanies it with a Flitch of Bacon to 
 his Mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five 
 Pounds a Year to the Clerk's Place ; and that he may 
 encourage the young Fellows to make themselves 
 perfect in the Church-Service, has promised upon the 
 Death of the present Incumbent, who is very old, to 
 bestow it according to Merit. 
 
 The fair Understanding between Sir Roger and his 
 Chaplain, and their mutual Concurrence in doing 
 Good, is the more remarkable, because the very next 
 Village is famous for the Differences and Contentions 
 that rise between the Parson and the 'Squire, who live 
 in a perpetual State of War. The Parson is always 
 
52 THE COVERLET SABBATH. 
 
 preaching at the 'Squire, and the 'Squire to be re- 
 venged on the Parson never comes to Church. The 
 'Squire has made all his Tenants Atheists and Tithe- 
 Stealers ; while the Parson instructs them every Sun- 
 day in the Dignity of his Order, and insinuates to them 
 in almost every Sermon, that he is a better Man than 
 his Patron. In short, Matters are come to such an 
 Extremity, that the 'Squire has not said his Prayers 
 either in publick or private this half Year ; and that 
 the Parson threatens him, if he does not mend his 
 Manners, to pray for him in the Face of the whole 
 Consfresation. 
 
 Feuds of this Nature, though too frequent in the 
 Countiy, are very fatal to the ordinary People ; who 
 are so used to be dazzled with Riches, that they pay as 
 much Deference to the Understandino; of a Man of an 
 Estate, as of a Man of Learning ; and are very hardly 
 brought to regard any Truth, how important soever it 
 may be, that is preached to them, when they know 
 there are several Men of five hundred a Year who do 
 not believe it. 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Sir Roger in Love. 
 Harent infixi pectore vultus. Virg. 
 
 IN my first Description of the Company in which 1 
 pass most of my Time, it may be remembred that 
 I mentioned a great Affliction which my Friend Sir 
 Roger had met with in his Youth ; which was no less 
 than a Disappointment in Love. It happened this 
 Evening, that we fell into a very pleasing Walk at a 
 Distance from his House : As soon as we came into 
 it, ' It is,' quoth the good old Man, looking round him 
 with a Smile, ' very hard, that any Part of my Land 
 ' should be settled upon one who has used me so ill as 
 ' the perverse Widow did ; and yet I am sure I could 
 ' not see a Sprig of any Bough of this whole Walk 
 ' of Trees, but I should reflect upon her and her Se- 
 ' verity. She has certainly the finest Hand of any 
 ' Woman in the World. You are to know this was 
 ' the Place wherein I used to muse upon her ; and by 
 ' that Custom I can never come into it, but the same 
 
54 SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 
 
 ' tender Sentiments revive in my Mind, as if I liad 
 ' actually walked with that beautiful Creature under 
 ' these Shades. I have been Fool enough to carve 
 ' her Name on the Bark of several of these Trees ; 
 ' so unhappy is the Condition of Men in Love, 
 ' to attempt the removing of their Passions by the 
 ' Methods which serve only to imprint it deeper. She 
 ' has certainly the finest Hand of any Woman in the 
 ' World.' 
 
 Here followed a profound Silence ; and I was not 
 displeased to observe my Friend falling so naturally 
 into a Discourse, which I had ever before taken notice 
 he industriously avoided. After a very long Pause he 
 entered upon an Account of this great Circumstance 
 in his Life, with an Air which I thought raised my 
 Idea of him above what I had ever had before ; and 
 gave me the Picture of that chearful Mind of his, be- 
 fore it received that Stroke which has ever since affect- 
 ed his Words and Actions. But he went on as follows. 
 
 ' I came to my Estate in my Twenty second Year, 
 ' and resolved to follow the Steps of the most worthy 
 ' of my Ancestors who have inhabited this Spot of 
 ' Earth before me, in all the Methods of Hospitality 
 ' and good Neighbourhood, for the sake of my Fame ; 
 ' and in Country Sports and Recreations, for the sake 
 ' of my Health. In my Twenty third Year I was 
 
SIR ROGER IN LOVE. OO 
 
 obliged to serve as Sheriff of the County; and in 
 my Servants, Officers and whole Equipage, indulged 
 the Pleasure of a young Man (who did not think ill 
 of his own Person) in taking that public Occasion of 
 shewing my Figure and Behaviour to Advantage. 
 You may easily imagine to yourself what Appear- 
 ance I made, who am pretty tall, rid well, and was 
 very well dressed, at the Head of a whole County, 
 with Musick before me, a Feather in my Hat, and 
 my Horse well bitted. I can assure you I was not a 
 little pleased with the kind Looks and Glances I had 
 from all the Balconies and Windows as I rode to the 
 Hall where the Assizes were held. But when I 
 came there, a beautiful Creature in a Widow's Plabit 
 sat in Court, to hear the Event of a Cause concern- 
 ing her Dower. This commanding Creature (who 
 was born for Destruction of all who behold her) put 
 on such a Resignation in her Countenance, and bore 
 the Whispers of all around the Court, with such a 
 pretty Uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered 
 herself from one Eye to another, 'till she was per- 
 fectly confused by meeting something so wistful in 
 all she encountered, that at last, wnth a Murrain to 
 her, she cast her bewitching Eye upon me. I no 
 sooner met it, but I bowed like a great surprised 
 Booby ; and knowing her Cause to be the first which 
 
56 SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 
 
 ' came on, I cried, like a captivated Calf as I was, 
 ' Make way for the Defendant's Witnesses. This sud- 
 ' den Partiality made all the County immediately see 
 ' the Sheriff also was become a Slave to the fine 
 ' Widow. During the Time her Cause was upon Trial, 
 ' she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep 
 
 * Attention to her Business, took Opportunities to have 
 ' little Billets handed to her Counsel, then would be in 
 ' such a pretty Confusion, occasioned, you must know, 
 ' by acting before so much Company, that not only I 
 ' but the whole Court was prejudiced in her Favour ; 
 ' and all that the next Heir to her Husband had to 
 ' urge, was thought so groundless and frivolous, that 
 ^ when it came to her Counsel to reply, there was not 
 ' half so much said as every one besides in the Court 
 ' thought he could have urged to her Advantage. You 
 ' must understand, Sir, this perverse Woman is one of 
 ' those unaccountable Creatures, that secretly rejoice 
 ' in the Admiration of Men, but indulge themselves in 
 
 * no farther Consequences. Hence it is that she has 
 
 ' ever had a Train of Admirers, and she removes from | 
 ' her Slaves in Town to those in the Country, accord- i 
 ' ing to the Seasons of the Year. She is a reading 
 ' Lady, and far gone in the Pleasures of Friendship : 
 ' She is always accompanied by a Confident, who is ] 
 ' Witness to her daily Protestations against our Sex, 
 
SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 57 
 
 ' and consequently a Bar to her first Steps towards 
 ' Love, upon the Strength of her own Maxims and 
 ' Declarations. 
 
 ' However, I must needs say this accomplished 
 ' Mistress of mine has distinguished me above the rest, 
 ' and has been known to declare Sir Roger de Cov- 
 ' ERLEY was the tamest and most humane of all the 
 ' Brutes in the Country. I was told she said so by one 
 ' who thought he rallied me ; but upon the Strength 
 ' of this slender Encouragement of being thought least 
 ' detestable, I made new Liveries, new-paired my 
 ' Coach- Horses, sent them all to Town to be bitted, 
 ' and taught to throw their Legs well, and move all 
 'together, before I pretended to cross the Country 
 ' and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my Reti- 
 'nue suitable to the Character of my Fortune and 
 'Youth, I set out from hence to make my Addresses. 
 ' The particular Skill of this Lady has ever been to 
 ' inflame your Wishes, and yet command Respect. 
 ' To make her Mistress of this Art, she has a greater 
 ' Share of Knowledge, Wit, and good Sense, than is 
 ' usual even among Men of Merit. Then she is beau- 
 ' tiful beyond the Race of Women. If you won't let 
 ' her go on with a certain Artifice with her Eyes, and 
 ' the Skill of Beauty, she will arm herself with her 
 ' real Charms, and strike you with Admiration. It is 
 
58 SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 
 
 ' certain that if you were to behold the whole Woman, 
 ' there is that Dignity in her Aspect, that Composure 
 ' in her Motion, that Complacency in her Manner, that 
 ' if her Form makes you hope, her Merit makes you 
 ' fear. But then again, she is such a desperate Scholar, 
 ' that no Country-Gentleman can approach her without 
 ' being a Jest. As I was going to tell you, when I 
 ' came to her House, I was admitted to her Presence 
 ' with great Civility ; at the same Time she placed 
 ' herself to be first seen by me in such an Attitude, 
 ' as I think you call the Posture of a Picture, that she 
 ' discovered new Charms, and I at last came towards 
 ' her with such an Awe as made me speechless. This 
 ' she no sooner observed but she made her Advantage 
 ' of it, and began a Discourse to me concerning Love 
 ' and Honour, as they both are followed by Pretenders, 
 ' and the real Votaries to them. When she discussed 
 ' these Points in a Discourse, which I verily believe 
 ' was as learned as the best Philosopher in Europe 
 ' could possibly make, she asked me whether she was 
 ' so happy as to fall in with my Sentiments on these 
 ' important Particulars. Her Confident sat by her, and 
 ' upon my being in the last Confusion and Silence, this 
 ' malicious Aid of hers turning to her says, I am very 
 ' glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon this Subject, 
 ' and seems resolved to deliver all his Sentiments 
 
SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 59 
 
 upon the Matter when he pleases to speak. They 
 both kept their Countenances, and after I had sat half 
 an Hour, meditating how to behave before such pro- 
 found Casuists, I rose up and took my Leave. Chance 
 has since that time thrown me very often in her 
 Way, and she as often has directed a Discourse to 
 me which I do not understand. This Barbarity has 
 kept me ever at a Distance from the most beautiful 
 Object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she 
 deals with all Mankind, and you must make Love to 
 her, as you would conquer the Sphinx, by posing her. 
 But were she like other Women, and that there were 
 any talking to her, how constant must the Pleasure 
 of that Man be, who could converse with a Crea- 
 ture But, after all, you may be sure her Heart 
 
 is fixed on some one or other ; and yet I have been 
 credibly informed ; but who can believe half that is 
 said ! After she had done speaking to me, she put 
 her Hand to her Bosom, and adjusted her Tucker. 
 Then she cast her Eyes a little down, upon my 
 beholding her too earnestly. They say she sings 
 excellently : her Voice in her ordinary Speech has 
 something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know 
 I dined with her at a public Table the Day after I 
 first saw her, and she helped me to some Tansy in 
 the Eye of all the Gentlemen in the Country : She 
 
60 SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 
 
 ' has certainly the finest Hand of any Woman in the 
 ' World. I can assure you, Sir, were you to behold 
 ' her, you would be in the same Condition ; for as her 
 ' Speech is Musick, her Form is Angelick. But I find 
 ' I grow irregular while I am talking of her ; but 
 ' indeed it would be Stupidity to be unconcerned at 
 ' such Perfection. Oh the excellent Creature ! she is 
 ' as inimitable to all Women, as she is inaccessible to 
 ' all Men.' 
 
 I found my Friend began to rave, and insensibly led 
 him towards the House, that we might be joined by 
 some other Company ; and am convinced that the 
 Widow is the secret Cause of all that Inconsistency 
 which appears in some Parts of my Friend's Dis- 
 course ; though he has so much Command of himself 
 as not directly to mention her, yet according to that 
 of Martial^ which one knows not how to render into 
 English, Dum tacet hanc loquitur. I shall end this 
 Paper with that whole Epigram, which represents with 
 much Humour my honest Friend's Condition. 
 
 Quicquid a git Riifics, nihil est, nisi NcBvia Rufo, 
 Si gaudet, sijlet, si tacet, hanc loquitur : 
 
 Cccnat, propiiiat, poscit, negat, annuit, una est 
 NcBvia ; Si non sit Ncevia, mutus erit. 
 
 Scriberet hesternd Patri ciim Luce Salutem, 
 N(Evia luXf inquit, Navia numen, ave. 
 
SIR ROGER IN LOVE. 61 
 
 Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk, 
 Still he can nothing but of NcEvia talk ; 
 Let him eat, drink, ask Questions, or dispute, 
 Still he must speak of Nccvia, or be mute, 
 He writ to his Father, ending with this Line, 
 I am, my lovely Ncevia, ever thine. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Coverley (Economy. 
 
 JPaupertaiis fudor ^ fuga. Hor. 
 
 rvECONOMY in our Affairs has the same Effect 
 ^ upon our Fortunes which Good-Breeding has upon 
 our Conversations. There is a pretending Behaviour 
 in both Cases, which, instead of making Men es- 
 teemed, renders them both miserable and contempt- 
 ible. We had Yesterday at Sir Roger's a Set of 
 Country Gentlemen who dined with him : and after 
 Dinner the Glass was taken, by those who pleased, 
 pretty plentifully. Among others I observed a Person 
 of a tolerable good Aspect, who seemed to be more 
 greedy of Liquor than any of the Company, and yet, 
 methought, he did not taste it with Delight. As he 
 grew warm, he was suspicious of every thing that was 
 said ; and as he advanced towards being fuddled, his 
 Humour grew worse. At the same time his Bitter- 
 ness seemed to be rather an inward Dissatisfaction in 
 his own Mind, than any Dislike he had taken to the 
 
THE COVERLET (ECONOMY. 63 
 
 Company. Upon hearing his Name, I knew him to 
 be a Gentleman of a considerable Fortune in this 
 County, but greatly in Debt. What gives the unhappy 
 Man this Peevishness of Spirit, is, that his Estate is 
 dipped, and is eating out with Usury ; and yet he 
 has not the Heart to sell any part of it. His proud 
 Stomach, at the Cost of restless Nights, constant 
 Inquietudes, Danger of Affronts, and a thousand 
 nameless Inconveniences, preserves this Canker in 
 his Fortune, rather than it shall be said he is a Man 
 of fewer Hundreds a Year than he has been com- 
 monly reputed. Thus he endures the Torment of 
 Poverty, to avoid the Name of being less rich. If you 
 go to his House you see great Plenty ; but served in a 
 Manner that shows it is all unnatural, and that the 
 Master's Mind is not at Home. There is a certain 
 Waste and Carelessness in the Air of every thing, and 
 the Whole appears but a covered Indigence, a mag- 
 nificent Poverty. That Neatness and Chearfulness 
 which attends the Table of him who lives within 
 Compass, is wanting, and exchanged for a Libertine 
 Way of Service in all about him. 
 
 This Gentleman's Conduct, though a very common 
 way of Management, is as ridiculous as that Officer's 
 would be, who had but few Men under his Command, 
 and should take the Charge of an Extent of Country 
 
64 THE COVERLET (ECONOMY. 
 
 rather than of a small Pass. To pay for, personate, 
 and keep in a Man's Hands a greater Estate than he 
 really has, is of all others the most unpardonable 
 Vanity, and must in the End reduce the Man who is 
 guilty of it to Dishonour. Yet if we look round us in 
 any County of Great Britain^ we shall see many in 
 this fatal Error ; if that may be called by so soft a 
 Name, which proceeds from a false Shame of appear- 
 ing what they really are, when the contrary Behaviour 
 would in a short time advance them to the Condition 
 which they pretend to. 
 
 Laertes has fifteen hundred Pounds a Year ; which 
 is mortgaored for six thousand Pounds : but it is im- 
 possible to convince him that if he sold as much as 
 would pay off that Debt, he would save four Shillings 
 in the Pound, which he gives for the Vanity of being 
 the reputed Master of it. Yet if Laertes did this, he 
 would perhaps be easier in his own Fortune ; but 
 then Irus^ a Fellow of Yesterday, who has but twelve 
 hundred a Year, would be his Equal. Rather than 
 this shall be, Laertes goes on to bring well-born Beg- 
 gars into the World, and every Twelvemonth charges 
 his Estate with at least one Year's Rent more by the 
 Birth of a Child. 
 
 Laertes and Irus are Neighbours, whose Way of 
 living are an Abomination to each other. Irus is 
 
THE COVERLET (ECONOMY. 65 
 
 moved by the Fear of Poverty, and Laertes by the 
 Shame of it. Though the Motive of Action is of so 
 near Affinity in both, and may be resolved into this, 
 * That to each of them Poverty is the greatest of 
 ' Evils,' yet are their Manners very widely different. 
 Shame of Poverty makes Laertes lanch into unneces- 
 sary Equipage, vain Expence, and lavish Entertain- 
 ments ; Fear of Poverty makes Irus allow himself 
 only plain Necessaries, appear without a Servant, sell 
 his own Corn, attend his Labourers, and be himself a 
 Labourer. Shame of Poverty makes Laertes go every 
 Day a Step nearer to it, and Fear of Poverty stirs 
 up Irus to make every Day some further Progress 
 from it. 
 
 These different Motives produce the Excesses which 
 Men are guilty of, in the Negligence of and Provision 
 for themselves. Usury, Stock-jobbing, Extortion, and 
 Oppression, have their Seed in the Dread of Want ; 
 and Vanity, Riot, and Prodigality, from the Shame 
 of it : But both these Excesses are infinitely below 
 the Pursuit of a reasonable Creature. After we have 
 taken Care to command so much as is necessary for 
 maintaining ourselves in the Order of Men suitable to 
 our Character, the Care of Superfluities is a Vice no 
 less extravagant, than the Neglect of Necessaries 
 would have been before. 
 5 
 
66 THE COVERLEY (ECONOMY. 
 
 It would methinks be no ill Maxim of Life, if ac- 
 cording to that Ancestor of Sir Roger, whom I lately 
 mentioned, every Man would point to himself what 
 Sum he would resolve not to exceed. He might by 
 this Means cheat himself into a Tranquillity on this 
 Side of that Expectation, or convert what he should 
 get above it to nobler Uses than his own Pleasures or 
 Necessities. 
 
 It is possible that the Tranquillity I now enjoy at 
 Sir Roger's may have created in me this way of 
 thinking, which is so abstracted from the common 
 Relish of the World : But as I am now in a pleasing 
 Arbour, surrounded with a beautiful Landscape, I find 
 no Inclination so strong as to continue in these Man- 
 sions, so remote from the ostentatious Scenes of Life ; 
 and am at this present Writing Philosopher enough to 
 conclude with Mr. Cowley, 
 
 If e'er Ambition did my Fancy cheat, 
 With any Wish so mean as to be Great ; 
 Continue, Heaven, still from me to remove 
 The Humble Blessings of that Life I love ! 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ■ The Coverley Hunt. 
 Ut sit Mens sana in Corpore sano. Juv. 
 
 TTAD not Exercise been absolutely necessary for 
 -^-^ our Well-being, Nature would not have made 
 the Body so proper for it, by giving such an Activity 
 to the Limbs, and such a Pliancy to every Part as 
 necessarily produce those Compressions, Extensions, 
 Contortions, Dilatations, and all other kinds of Motions 
 that are necessary for the preservation of such a Sys- 
 tem of Tubes and Glands as has been before men- 
 tioned. And that we might not want Inducements to 
 engage us in such an Exercise of the Body as is 
 proper for its Welfare, it is so ordered that nothing 
 valuable can be procured without it. Not to mention 
 Riches and Honour, even Food and Raiment are not 
 to be come at without the Toil of the Hands and 
 Sweat of the Brows. Providence furnishes Materials, 
 but expects that we should work them up our selves. 
 The Earth must be laboured before it gives its In- 
 
68 THE COVERLET HUNT. 
 
 % 
 
 crease, and when it is forced into its several Products, 
 how many Hands must they pass through before they 
 are fit for Use ? Manufactures, Trade, and Agricul- 
 ture, naturally employ more than nineteen Parts of 
 the Species in twenty ; and as for those who are not 
 obliged to labour, by the Condition in which they are 
 born, they are more miserable than the rest of Man- 
 kind, unless they indulge themselves in that voluntary 
 Labour which goes by the Name of Exercise. 
 
 My Friend Sir Roger has been an indefatigable 
 Man in Business of this kind, and has hung several 
 Parts of his House with the Trophies of his former 
 Labours. The Walls of his great Hall are covered 
 with the Horns of several kinds of Deer that he has 
 killed in the Chace, which he thinks the most valuable 
 Furniture of his House, as they afford him frequent 
 Topicks of Discourse, and show that he has not been 
 idle. At the lower End of the Hall is a large Otter's 
 Skin stuffed with Hay, which his Mother ordered to 
 be hung up in that manner, and the Knight looks upon 
 with great Satisfaction, because it seems he was but 
 nine Years old when his Dog killed him. A little 
 Room adjoining to the Hall is a kind of Arsenal filled 
 with Guns of several Sizes and Inventions, with which 
 the Knight has made great Havock in the Woods, and 
 destroyed many thousands of Pheasants, Partridges 
 
THE COVERLEY HUNT. 69 
 
 and Woodcocks. His Stable Doors are patched with 
 Noses that belonged to Foxes of the Knight's own 
 hunting down. Sir Roger showed me one of them 
 that for Distinction sake has a Brass Nail struck 
 through it, which cost him about fifteen Hours' riding, 
 carried him through half a Dozen Counties, killed 
 him a Brace of Geldings, and lost above half his 
 Dogs. This the Knight looks upon as one of the 
 greatest Exploits of his Life. The perverse Widow, 
 whom I have given some Account of, was the Death 
 of several Foxes ; for Sir Roger has told me that in 
 the Course of his Amours he patched the Western 
 Door of his Stable. Whenever the Widow was cruel, 
 the Foxes were sure to pay for it. In Proportion as 
 his Passion for the Widow abated and old Age came 
 on, he left off Fox-hunting; but a Hare is not yet 
 safe that sits within ten Miles of his House. 
 
 After what has been said, I need not inform my 
 Readers, that Sir Roger, with whose Character I hope 
 they are at present pretty well acquainted, has in his 
 Youth gone through the whole Course of those rural 
 Diversions which the Country abounds in ; and which 
 seem to be extremely well suited to that laborious 
 Industry a Man may observe here in a far greater 
 Degree than in Towns and Cities. I have before 
 hinted at some of my Friend's Exploits : He has in 
 
70 THE COVERLET HUNT. 
 
 his youthful Days taken forty Coveys of Partridges 
 in a Season ; and tired many a Salmon with a 
 Line consisting but of a single Hair. The constant 
 Thanks and good Wishes of the Neighbourhood al- 
 ways attended him, on account of his remarkable 
 Enmity towards Foxes ; having destroyed more of 
 those Vermin in one Year, than it was thought the 
 whole Country could have produced. Indeed the 
 Knight does not scruple to own among his most inti- 
 mate Friends, that in order to establish his Reputation 
 this Way, he has secretly sent for great Numbers of 
 them out of other Countries, which he used to turn 
 loose about the Country by Night, that he might the 
 better signalize himself in their Destruction the next 
 Day. His Hunting-Horses were the finest and best 
 managed in all these Parts : His Tenants are still full 
 of the Praises of a gray Stone-horse that unhappily 
 staked himself several Years since, and was buried 
 with great Solemnity in the Orchard. 
 
 Sir Roger, being at present too old for Fox-hunt- 
 ing, to keep himself in Action has disposed of his 
 Beagles and got a Pack of Stop-hounds. What these j» 
 want in Speed, he endeavours to make amends for 
 by the Deepness of their Mouths and the Variety of 
 their Notes, which are suited in such manner to each | 
 other, that the whole Cry makes up a complete Con- 
 
THE COVERLET HUNT. 71 
 
 sort. He is so nice in this Particular, that a Gentle- 
 man having made him a Present of a very fine Hound 
 the other Day, the Knight returned it by the Servant 
 with a great many expressions of Civility ; but desired 
 him to tell his Master, that the Dog he had sent was 
 indeed a most excellent Bass, but that at present he 
 only wanted a Coimter- Tenor. Could I believe my 
 Friend had ever read Shakespeare, I should certainly 
 conclude he had taken the Hint from Theseus in the 
 Midsummer Nighfs Dream. 
 
 My Hounds are bred out of the Spartan Kind, 
 So jlu'd, so sanded ; and their Heads are hung 
 With Ears that sweep arvay the Morning Dew. 
 Crook-kneed and dew-lap^ d like Thessalian Bulls. 
 Slow in Pursuit, but matched in Mouths like Bells, 
 Each under each : A Cry more tuneable 
 Was never hollowed to, nor chear''d with Horn. 
 
 Sir Roger is so keen at this Sport, that he has 
 been out almost every Day since I came down ; and 
 upon the Chaplain's offering to lend me his easy Pad, 
 I was prevailed on Yesterday Morning to make one 
 of the Company. I was extremely pleased, as we 
 rid along, to observe the general Benevolence of all 
 the Neighbourhood towards my Friend. The Farmers' 
 Sons thought themselves happy if they could open 
 a' Gate for the good old Knight as he passed by ; 
 which he generally requited with a Nod or a Smile, 
 and a kind Inquiry after their Fathers and Uncles. 
 
72 THE COVERLET HUNT. 
 
 After we had rid about a Mile from Home, we 
 came upon a large Heath, and the Sportsmen began 
 to beat. They had done so for some time, when, as I 
 was at a little Distance from the rest of the Company, 
 I saw a Hare pop out from a small Furze-brake almost 
 under my Horse's Feet. I marked the Way she took, 
 which I endeavoured to make the Company sensible of 
 by extending my Arm ; but to no purpose, 'till Sir 
 Roger, who knows that none of my extraordinary 
 Motions are insignificant, rode up to me, and asked 
 me if Puss was gone that Way ? Upon my answer- 
 ing Yes, he immediately called in the Dogs, and put 
 them upon the Scent. As they were going off, I 
 heard one of the Country-Fellows muttering to his 
 Companion, That "'twas a Wonder they had not lost 
 all their Sport, for loant of the silent Gentleman'' s 
 crying STOLE AWAY. 
 
 This, with my Aversion to leaping Hedges, made 
 me withdraw to a rising Ground, from whence I could 
 have the Pleasure of the whole Chace, without the 
 Fatigue of keeping in with the Hounds, The Hare 
 immediately threw them above a Mile behind her ; 
 but I was pleased to find, that instead of running 
 straight forwards, or in Hunter's Language, Flying 
 the Country, as I was afraid she might have done, she 
 wheeled about, and described a sort of Circle round 
 
THE COVERLET HUNT. 73 
 
 the Hill where I had taken my Station, in such 
 Manner as gave me a very distinct View of the Sport. 
 I could see her first pass by, and the Dogs sometime 
 afterwards unravelling the whole Track she had made, 
 and following her through all her Doubles. I was at 
 the same Time delighted in observing that Deference 
 which the rest of the Pack paid to each particular 
 Hound, according to the Character he had acquired 
 amongst them : If they were at a Fault, and an old 
 Hound of Reputation opened but once, he was imme- 
 diately followed by the whole Cry ; while a raw Dog, 
 or one who was a noted Liar, might have yelped his 
 Heart out, without being taken notice of. 
 
 The Hare now, after having squatted two or three 
 times, and been put up again as often, came still nearer 
 to the Place where she was at first started. The Dogs 
 pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly 
 Knight, who rode upon a white Gelding, encompassed 
 by his Tenants and Servants, and chearing his Hounds 
 with all the Gaiety of Five and Twenty. One of the 
 Sportsmen rode up to me, and told me, that he was 
 sure the Chace was almost at an end, because the old 
 Dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the 
 Pack. The Fellow was in the Right. Our Hare 
 took a large Field just under us, followed by the full 
 Cry in View. I must confess the Brightness of the 
 
74 THE COVERLET HUNT. 
 
 Weather, the Chearfulness of every thing around me, 
 the Chiding of the Hounds, which was returned upon 
 us in a double Echo from two neighbouring Hills, 
 with the Hollowing of the Sportsmen, and the Sound- 
 ing of the Horn, lifted my Spirits into a most lively 
 Pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was sure 
 it was innocent. If I was under any Concern, it was 
 on the account of the poor Hare, that was now quite 
 spent, and almost within the reach of her Enemies ; 
 when the Huntsman getting forward, threw down his 
 Pole before the Dogs. They were now within eight 
 Yards of that Game which they had been pursuing for 
 almost as many Hours ; yet on the Signal before- 
 mentioned they all made a sudden Stand, and though 
 they continued opening as much as before, durst not 
 once attempt to pass beyond the Pole. At the same 
 time Sir Roger rode forward, and alighting, took up 
 the Hare in his Arms ; which he soon delivered up to 
 one of his Servants with an Order, if she could be 
 kept alive, to let her go in his great Orchard ; where 
 it seems he has several of these Prisoners of War, 
 who live together in a very comfortable Captivity. I 
 was highly pleased to see the Discipline of the Pack, 
 and the Good-nature of the Knight, who could not find 
 in his Heart to murder a Creature that had given him 
 so much Diversion. 
 
THE COVERLET HUNT. 75 
 
 For my own part I intend to hunt twice a Week 
 during my Stay with Sir Roger ; and shall prescribe 
 the moderate Use of this Exercise to ali my Country 
 Friends, as the best kind of Physick for mending a 
 bad Constitution, and preserving a good one. 
 
 I cannot do this better, than in the following Lines 
 out of Mr. Bryden. 
 
 The first Physicians by Debauch were made ; 
 Excess began, and Sloth sustains the Trade. 
 By Chace our long-lived Fathers earned their Food ; 
 Toil strung the Nerves, and purify'' d the Blood ; 
 But we their Sons, a pampered Race of Men, 
 Are dwindled down to threescore Years and ten. 
 Better to hunt in Fields for Health unbought, 
 Than see the Doctor for a nauseous Draught, 
 The Wise for Cure on Exercise depend : 
 God never made his Work for Man to mend. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Coverley Witch. 
 
 Ipsi sibi sovmiafingunt. Virg. 
 
 rpHERE are some Opinions in which a Man should 
 -*- stand Neuter, without engaging his Assent to one 
 side or the other. Such a hovering Faith as this, 
 which refuses to settle upon any Determination, is 
 absolutely necessary in a Mind that is careful to avoid 
 Errors and Prepossessions. When the Arguments 
 press equally on both sides in Matters that are indif- 
 ferent to us, the safest Method is to give up ourselves 
 to neither. 
 
 It is with this Temper of Mind that I consider the 
 Subject of Witchcraft. When I hear the Relations 
 that are made from all Parts of the World, not only 
 from Norway and Lapland^ from the East and West 
 Indies^ but from every particular Nation in Europe^ 
 I cannot forbear thinking that there is such an Inter- 
 course and Commerce with Evil Spirits, as that which 
 we express by the Name of Witchcraft. But when 
 
THE COVERLET WITCH. 77 
 
 I consider that the ignorant and credulous Parts of 
 the World abound most in these Relations, and that 
 the Persons among us, who are supposed to engage 
 in such an infernal Commerce, are People of a weak 
 Understanding and crazed Imagination, and at the 
 same time reflect upon the many Impostures and 
 Delusions of this Nature that have been detected in 
 all Ages, I endeavour to suspend my Belief till I hear 
 more certain Accounts than any which have yet come 
 to my Knowledge. In short, when I consider the 
 Question, whether there are such Persons in the 
 World as those we call Witches, my mind is divided 
 between the two opposite Opinions ; or rather (to 
 speak my Thoughts freely) I believe in general that 
 there is, and has been such a thing as Witchcraft ; 
 but at the same time can give no Credit to any par- 
 ticular Instance of it. 
 
 I am engaged in this Speculation, by some Occur- 
 rences that I met with Yesterday, which I shall give 
 my Reader an Account of at large. As I was walk- 
 ing with my Friend Sir Roger by the side of one of 
 his Woods, an old Woman applied herself to me for 
 my Charity. Her Dress and Figure put me in mind 
 of the following Description in Otway. 
 
 In a dose Lane as I pursued my Journey, 
 I spjfd a rvrinkled Hag, rvith Age grorvn double, 
 
78 THE COVERLEY WITCH. 
 
 Picking dry Sticks, and mumbling to herself. 
 
 Her Eyes with scalding Rheum were galVd and red ; 
 
 Cold Palsy shook her Head ; her Hands seemed withered ; 
 
 And on her crooked Shoulders had she wrapped 
 
 The tattered Remnayits of an old striped Hanging, 
 
 Which served to keep her Carcase from the Cold: 
 
 So there was nothing of a Piece about her. 
 
 Her lower Weeds were all o'er coarsely patch'' d 
 
 With diffWent coloured Rags, black, red, white, yellow, 
 
 And seemed to speak Variety of Wretchedness. 
 
 As I was musing on this Description, and com- 
 paring it with the Object before me, the Knight told 
 me, that this very old Woman had the Reputation of 
 a Witch all over the Country, that her Lips were 
 observed to be always in Motion, and that there was 
 not a Switch about her House which her Neighbours 
 did not believe had carried her several hundreds of 
 Miles. If she chanced to stumble, they always found 
 Sticks or Straws that lay in the Figure of a Cross 
 before her. If she made any Mistake at Church, 
 and cryed Amen in a wrong Place, they never failed 
 to conclude that she was saying her Prayers back- 
 wards. There was not a Maid in the Parish that 
 would take a Pin of her, though she should offer a 
 Bag of Money with it. She goes by the Name of 
 Moll White, and has made the Country ring with 
 several imaginaiy Exploits which are palmed upon 
 her. If the Dairy-maid does not make her Butter 
 
 4 
 
THE COVERLET WITCH. 79 
 
 come so soon as she should have it, Moll White is at 
 the Bottom of the Churn. If a Horse sweats in the 
 Stable, Moll White has been upon his Back. If a 
 Hare makes an unexpected Escape from the Hounds, 
 the Huntsman curses Moll White. Nay, (says Sir 
 Roger) I have known the Master of the Pack upon 
 such an Occasion, send one of his Servants to see 
 if Moll White has been out that Morning. 
 
 This Account raised my curiosity so far, that I 
 begged my Friend Sir Roger to go with me into her 
 Hovel, which stood in a solitary Corner under the 
 side of the Wood. Upon our first entering Sir Roger 
 winked to me, and pointed at something that stood 
 behind the Door, which, upon looking that VVay, I 
 found to be an old Broom-staff. At the same time 
 he whispered me in the Ear to take notice of a Tabby 
 Cat that sat in the Chimney-Corner, which, as the 
 old Knight told me, lay under as bad a Report as 
 Moll White herself ; for besides that, Moll is said 
 often to accompany her in the same Shape, the Cat 
 is reported to have spoken twice or thrice in her Life, 
 and to have played several Pranks above the Capacity 
 of an ordinary Cat. 
 
 I was secretly concerned to see human Nature in 
 so much Wretchedness and Disgrace, but at the same 
 time could not forbear smiling to hear Sir Roger, who 
 
80 THE COVERLET WITCH. 
 
 is a little puzzled about the old Woman, advising her 
 as a Justice of Peace to avoid all Communication with 
 the Devil, and never to hurt any of her Neighbour's 
 Cattle. We concluded our Visit with a Bounty, which 
 was very acceptable. 
 
 In our Return home, Sir Roger told me, that old 
 Moll had been often brought before him for making 
 Children spit Pins, and giving Maids the Night-Mare ; 
 and that the Country People would be tossing her into 
 a Pond and trying Experiments with her every Day, 
 if it was not for him and his Chaplain. 
 
 I have since found upon Inquiry, that Sir Roger 
 was several times staggered with the Reports that 
 had been brought him concerning this old Woman, 
 and would frequently have bound her over to the 
 County Sessions, had not his Chaplain, with much 
 ado, persuaded him to the contrary. 
 
 I have been the more particular in this Account, 
 because I hear there is scarce a Village in England 
 that has not a Moll White in it. When an old 
 Woman begins to dote, and grow chargeable to a 
 Parish, she is generally turned into a Witch, and fills 
 the whole Country with extravagant Fancies, imagi- 
 nary Distempers and terrifying Dreams. In the mean 
 time, the poor Wretch that is the innocent Occasion 
 of so many Evils, begins to be frighted at herself. 
 
THE COVERLET WITCH. 81 
 
 and sometimes confesses secret Commerce and Fami- 
 liarities that her Imagination forms in a delirious old 
 Age. This frequently cuts off Charity from the 
 greatest Objects of Compassion, and inspires People 
 with a Malevolence towards those poor decrepid Parts 
 of our Species, in whom human Nature is defaced by 
 Infirmity and Dotage. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A CovERLEY Love Match. 
 Hcsret lateri lethalis arundo. Virg. 
 
 n^HIS agreeable Seat is surrounded with so many 
 -*- pleasing Walks which are struck out of a Wood 
 in the midst of which the House stands, that one can 
 hardly ever be weary of rambling from one labyrinth 
 of Delight to another. To one used to live in a City 
 the Charms of the Country are so exquisite, that the 
 Mind is lost in a certain Transport which raises us 
 above ordinary Life, and is yet not strong enough to 
 be inconsistent with Tranquillity. This State of Mind 
 was I in, ravished with the Murmur of Waters, the 
 Whisper of Breezes, the Singing of Birds ; and whe- 
 ther I looked up to the Heavens, down on the Earth, 
 or turned on the Prospects around me, still struck 
 with new Sense of Pleasure ; when I found by the 
 Voice of my Friend, who walked by me, that we had 
 insensibly strolled into the Grove sacred to the Widow. 
 This Woman, says he, is of all others the most unin- 
 
A COVERLET LOVE MATCH. 83 
 
 telligible ; she either designs to marry, or she does 
 not. What is the most perplexing of all, is, that she 
 doth not either say to her Lovers she has any Resolu- 
 tion against that Condition of Life in general, or that 
 she banishes them ; but conscious of her own Merit, 
 she permits their Addresses without fear of any ill 
 Consequence, or want of Respect, from their Rage or 
 Despair. She has that in her Aspect, against which it 
 is impossible to offend. A Man whose Thoughts are 
 constantly built upon so agreeable an Object, must be 
 excused if the ordinary Occurrences in Conversation 
 are below his Attention. I call her indeed perverse, 
 but, alas ! why do I call her so ? Because her supe- 
 rior Merit is such, that I cannot approach her without 
 Awe, that my Heart is checked by too much Esteem : 
 I am angry that her Charms are not more accessible, 
 that I am more inclined to worship than salute her: 
 How often have I wished her unhappy that I might 
 have an Opportunity of serving her ? and how often 
 troubled in that very Imagination, at giving her the 
 Pain of being obliged ? Well, I have led a miserable 
 Life in secret upon her Account ; but fancy she would 
 have condescended to have some regard to me, if it 
 had not been for that watchful Animal her Confi- 
 dant. 
 
 Of all Persons under the Sun (continued he, calling 
 
84 A COVERLET LOVE MATCH. 
 
 me by my Name) be sure to set a Mark upon Confidants : 
 they are of all People the most impertinent. What is 
 most pleasant to observe in them, is, that they assume 
 to themselves the Merit of the Persons whom they 
 have in their Custody. Orestilla is a great Fortune, 
 and in wonderful Danger of Surprises, therefore full 
 of Suspicions of the least indifferent thing, particu- 
 larly careful of new Acquaintance, and of growing 
 too familiar with the old. Themista, her favourite- 
 Woman, is every whit as careful of whom she speaks 
 to, and what she says. Let the AVard be a Beauty, 
 her Confidant shall treat you with an Air of Distance ; 
 let her be a Fortune, and she assumes the suspicious 
 Behaviour of her Friend and Patroness. Thus it is 
 that very many of our unmarried Women of Distinc- 
 tion are to all Intents and Purposes married, except 
 the Consideration of different Sexes. They are di- 
 rectly under the Conduct of their Whisperer ; and 
 think they are in a State of Freedom, while they can 
 prate with one of these Attendants of all Men in 
 general, and still avoid the Man they most like. You 
 do not see one Heiress in a hundred whose Fate does 
 not turn upon this Circumstance of Choosing a Confi- 
 dant. Thus it is that the Lady is addressed to, pre- 
 sented and flattered, only by Proxy, in her Woman. 
 In my case, how is it possible that 
 
A COVERLEY LOVE MATCH. 85 
 
 Sir Roger was proceeding in his Harangue, when 
 we lieard the Voice of one speaking very importu- 
 nately, and repeating these Words, ' What, not one 
 ' Smile ? ' We followed the Sound till we came to a 
 close Thicket, on the other side of which we saw a 
 young W^oman sitting as it were in a personated Sul- 
 lenness just over a transparent Fountain. Opposite 
 to her stood Mr. William^ Sir Roger's Master of the 
 Game. The Knight whispered me, ' Hist, these are 
 ' Lovers.' The Huntsman looking earnestly at the 
 Shadow of the young Maiden in the Stream, ' Oh 
 ' thou dear Picture, if thou couldst remain there in the 
 ' Absence of that fair Creature, whom you represent 
 ' in the Water, how willingly could I stand here satis- 
 ' fied for ever, without troubling my dear Betty her- 
 ' self with any Mention of her unfortunate William, 
 ' whom she is angry with : But alas ! when she pleases 
 
 ' to be gone, thou wilt also vanish Yet let me 
 
 ' talk to thee while thou dost stay. Tell my dearest 
 ' Betty thou dost not more depend upon her, than does 
 ' her William : Her Absence will make away with 
 ' me as well as thee. If she offers to remove thee, 
 ' I'll jump into these Waves to lay hold on thee ; her- 
 ' self, her own dear Person, I must never embrace 
 
 'again. Still do you hear me without one Smile 
 
 ' It is too much to bear ' He had no sooner 
 
86 A COVERLEY LOVE MATCH. 
 
 spoke these Words but he made an offer of throwing 
 himself into the Water : At which his Mistress started 
 up, and at the next Instant he jumped across the 
 Fountain and met her in an Embrace. She half re- 
 covering from her Fright, said in the most charming 
 Voice imaginable, and with a Tone of Complaint, 
 ' I thought how well you would drown yourself. No, 
 ' no, you won't drown yourself till you have taken 
 ' your leave of Susan Holiday.^ The Huntsman, with 
 a Tenderness that spoke the most passionate Love, 
 and with his Cheek close to hers, whispered the softest 
 Vows of Fidelity in her Ear, and cryed, ' Don't, my 
 ' Dear, believe a Word Kate Willow says ; she is 
 ' spiteful and makes Stories, because she loves to hear 
 ' me talk to herself for your sake.' 
 
 Look you there, quoth Sir Roger, do you see there, 
 all Mischief comes from Confidants ! But let us not 
 interrupt them ; the Maid is honest, and the Man dares 
 not be otherwise, for he knows I loved her Father : I 
 will interpose in this Matter, and hasten the Wedding. 
 Kate Willow is a witty and mischievous Wench in the 
 Neighbourhood, who was a Beauty ; and makes me 
 hope I shall see the perverse Widow in her Condition. 
 She was so flippant with her Answers to all the honest 
 Fellows that came near her, and so very vain of her 
 Beauty, that she has valued herself upon her Charms 
 
A COVERLEY LOVE MATCH. 87 
 
 till they are ceased. She therefore now makes it her 
 Business to prevent other young Women from being 
 more Discreet than she was herself: However, the 
 saucy thing said the other Day well enough, ' Sir 
 * Roger and I must make a Match, for we are both 
 ' despised by those we loved : ' The Hussy has a 
 great deal of Power wherever she comes, and has 
 her Share of Cunning. 
 
 However, when I reflect upon this Woman, I do not 
 know whether in the main I am the worse for having 
 loved her : Whenever she is recalled to my Imagina- 
 tion my Youth returns, and I feel a forgotten Warmth 
 in my Veins. This Affliction in my Life has streaked 
 all my Conduct with a Softness, of which I should 
 otherwise have been incapable. It is, perhaps, to this 
 dear Image in my Heart owing, that I am apt to 
 relent, that I easily forgive, and that many desirable 
 Things are grown into my Temper, which I should 
 not have arrived at by better Motives than the Thought 
 of being one Day hers. I am pretty well satisfied 
 such a Passion as I have had is never well cured ; and 
 between you and me, I am often apt to imagine it has 
 had some whimsical Effect upon my Brain : For I 
 frequently find, that in my most serious Discourse I 
 let fall some comical Familiarity of Speech or odd 
 Phrase that makes the Company Laugh ; However, I 
 
88 A COVERLEY LOVE MATCH. 
 
 cannot but allow she is a most excellent Woman. 
 When she is in the Country I warrant she does not run 
 into Dairies, but reads upon the Nature of Plants ; but 
 has a Glass Hive, and comes into the Garden out of 
 Books to see them work, and observe the Policies of 
 their Commonwealth. She understands every thing. 
 Fd give ten Pounds to hear her argue with my Friend 
 Sir Andrew Freeport about Trade. No, no, for all 
 she looks so innocent as it were, take my Word for it 
 she is no Fool. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Coverley Etiquette. 
 
 Urhem quavi dicunt Romam, Melibcee, putavi 
 SttiUus ego huic nostra similem. Virg. 
 
 n^HE first and most obvious Reflexions which arise 
 -*- in a Man who changes the City for the Country, 
 are upon the different Manners of the People whom he 
 meets with in those two different Scenes of Life. By 
 Manners I do not mean Morals, but Behaviour ond 
 Good-breeding as they show themselves in the Town 
 and in the Country. 
 
 And here, in the first place, I must observe a very 
 great Revolution that has happened in this Article of 
 Good-breeding. Several obliging Deferences, Conde- 
 scensions and Submissions, with many outward Forms 
 and Ceremonies that accompany them, were first of 
 all brought up among the politer Part of Mankind, 
 who lived in Courts and Cities, and distinguished 
 themselves from the Rustick part of the Species (who 
 on all Occasions acted bluntly and naturally) by such 
 
90 THE COVERLET ETIQUETTE. 
 
 a mutual Complaisance and Intercourse of Civilities. 
 These Forms of Conversation by degrees multiplied 
 and grew troublesome ; the modish World found too 
 great a Constraint in them, and have therefore thrown 
 most of them aside. Conversation, like the Rornish 
 Religion, was so encumbered with Show and Cere- 
 mony, that it stood in need of a Reformation to re- 
 trench its Superfluities, and restore it to its natural 
 good Sense and Beauty. At present therefore an 
 unconstrained Carriage, and a certain openness of 
 Behaviour, are the height of Good-breeding. The 
 fashionable World is grown free and easy ; our Man- 
 ners sit more loose upon us : Nothing is so modish as 
 an agreeable Negligence. In a word. Good-breeding 
 shews itself most, where to an ordinary Eye it appears 
 the least. 
 
 If after this we look on the People of Mode in the 
 Country, we find in them the Manners of the last Age. 
 They have no sooner fetched themselves up to the 
 Fashion of the polite World, but the Town has drop- 
 ped them, and are nearer to the first State of Nature, 
 than to those Refinements which formerly reigned in 
 the Court, and still prevail in the Country. One may 
 now know a Man that never conversed in the World, 
 by his Excess of Good-breeding. A polite Country 
 'Squire shall make you as many bows in half an 
 
THE COVERLEY ETIQUETTE. 91 
 
 Hour, as would serve a Courtier for a Week. There 
 is infinitely more to do about Place and Precedency 
 in a Meeting of Justices' Wives, than in an Assembly 
 of Dutchesses. 
 
 This Rural Politeness is very troublesome to a Man 
 of my Temper, who generally take the Chair that is 
 next me, and walk first or last, in the Front or in the 
 Rear, as Chance directs. I have known my Friend 
 Sir Roger's Dinner almost cold, before the Company 
 could adjust the Ceremonial, and be prevailed to sit 
 down ; and have heartily pitied my old Friend, when 
 I have seen him forced to pick and cull his Guests, 
 as they sat at the several Parts of his Table, that he 
 might drink their Healths according to their respective 
 Ranks and Qualities. Honest Will Wiinhle, who I 
 should have thought had been altogether uninfected 
 with Ceremony, gives me abundance of Trouble in 
 this Particular. Though he has been fishing all the 
 Morning, he will not help himself at Dinner 'till I am 
 served. When we are going out of the Hall, he runs 
 behind me ; and last Night, as we were walking in 
 the Fields, stopped short at a Stile 'till I came up to it, 
 and upon my making Signs to him to get over, told 
 me, with a serious Smile, that sure I believed they had 
 no Manners in the Country. 
 
 There has happened another Revolution in the Point 
 
92 THE COVERLET ETIQUETTE. 
 
 of Good-breeding, which relates to the Conversation 
 anaong Men of Mode, and which I cannot but look 
 upon as very extraordinary. It was certainly one of 
 the first Distinctions of a well-bred Man, to express 
 every thing that had the most remote Appearance of 
 being obscene, in modest Terms and distant Phrases ; 
 whilst the Clown, who had no such Delicacy of 
 Conception and Expression, clothed his Ideas in those 
 plain homely Terms that are the most obvious and 
 natural. This kind of Good-manners was perhaps 
 carried to an Excess, so as to make Conversation too 
 stiff, formal and precise : for which Reason (as 
 Hypocrisy in one Age is generally succeeded by 
 Atheism in another) Conversation is in a great 
 measure relapsed into the first Extreme ; so that at 
 present several of our Men of the Town, and par- 
 ticularly those who have been polished in France^ 
 make use of the most coarse uncivilized Words in our 
 Language, and utter themselves often in such a 
 manner as a Clown would blush to hear. 
 
 This infamous Piece of Good-breeding, which reigns 
 among the Coxcombs of the Town, has not yet made 
 its way into the Country ; and as it is impossible for 
 such an irrational way of Conversation to last long 
 among a People that make any Profession of Religion, 
 or Show of Modesty, if the Country Gentlemen get 
 
THE COVERLEY ETIQUETTE. 93 
 
 into it they will certainly be left in the lurch. Their 
 Good-breeding will come too late to them, and they 
 will be thought a Parcel of lewd Clowns, while they 
 fancy themselves talking together like Men of Wit and 
 Pleasure. 
 
 As the two Points of Good-breeding which I have 
 hitherto insisted upon, regard Behaviour and Con- 
 versation, there is a third which turns upon Dress. In 
 this too the Country are very much behind-hand. 
 The Rural Beaus are not yet got out of the fashion 
 that took place at the time of the Revolution, but ride 
 about the Country in red Coats and laced Hats, while 
 the Women in many Parts are still trying to outvie 
 one another in the Heio-ht of their Head-dresses. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 The Coverley Ducks. 
 
 Equidem credo, quia sit Divinitus illis 
 Ingenium. Virg. 
 
 "|\ /TY Friend Sir Roger is very often merry with me 
 upon my passing so much of my time among his 
 Poultry. He has caught me twice or thrice looking 
 after a Bird's Nest, and several times sitting an Hour 
 or two together near an Hen and Chickens. He tells 
 me he believes I am personally acquainted with every 
 Fowl about his House ; calls such a Cock my Fa- 
 vourite, and frequently complains that his Ducks and 
 Geese have more of my Company than himself. 
 
 I must confess I am infinitely delighted with those 
 Speculations of Nature which are to be made in a 
 Country-Life ; and as my Reading has very much lain 
 among Books of Natural History, I cannot forbear 
 recollecting upon this Occasion the several Remarks 
 which I have met with in Authors, and comparing 
 them with what falls under my own Observation : 
 
THE COVERLET DUCKS. 95 
 
 The Arguments for Providence drawn from the 
 natural History of Animals being in my Opinion 
 demonstrative. 
 
 It is astonishing to consider the different Degrees of 
 Care that descend from the Parent to the Young, so 
 far as is absolutely necessary for the leaving a 
 Posterity. Some Creatures cast their Eggs as Chance 
 directs them, and think of them no farther, as Insects 
 and several Kinds of Fish ; others of a nicer Frame, 
 find out proper Beds to deposit them in, and there 
 leave them ; as the Serpent, the Crocodile and the 
 Ostrich : Others hatch their Eggs and tend the Birth, 
 'till it is able to shift for itself. 
 
 What can we call the Principle which directs every 
 different kind of Bird to observe a particular Plan in 
 the Structure of its Nest, and direct all the same 
 Species to work after the same Model ? It cannot be 
 Imitation ; for though you hatch a Crow under a Hen, 
 and never let it see any of the Works of its own Kind, 
 the Nest it makes shall be the same to the laying of a 
 Stick, with all the other Nests of the same Species. 
 It cannot be Reason ; for were Animals indued with 
 it to as great a Degree as Man, their Buildings would 
 be as different as ours, according to the different 
 Conveniences that they would propose to themselves. 
 
 Is it not remarkable, that the same Temper of 
 
96 THE COVERLET DUCKS. 
 
 Weather, which raises this genial Warmth in Animals, 
 should cover the Trees with Leaves, and the Fields 
 with Grass, for their Security and Concealment, and 
 produce such infinite Swarms of Insects for the 
 Support and Sustenance of their respective Broods ? 
 
 Is it not wonderful that the Love of the Parent 
 should be so violent while it lasts, and that it should 
 last no longer than is necessary for the Preservation of 
 the Young ? 
 
 With what Caution does the Hen provide herself a 
 Nest in Places unfrequented, and free from Noise and 
 Disturbance ? When she has laid her Eggs in such a 
 Manner, that she can cover them, what Care does she 
 take in turning them frequently, that all Parts may 
 partake of the vital Warmth ? When she leaves them, 
 to provide for her necessary Sustenance, how punctu- 
 ally does she return before they have time to cool, and 
 become incapable of producing an Animal ? In the 
 Summer you see her giving herself greater Freedoms, 
 and quitting her Care for above two Hours together ; 
 but in Winter, when the Rigour of the Season would 
 chill the Principles of Life, and destroy the young one, 
 she grows more assiduous in her Attendance, and 
 stays away but half the Time. When the Birth 
 approaches, with how much Nicety and Attention does 
 she help the Chick to break its Prison ? Not to take 
 
THE COVERLEY DUCKS. 97 
 
 notice of her covering it from the Injuries of the 
 Weather, providing it proper Nourishment, and teach- 
 ing it to help itself; nor to mention her forsaking 
 the Nest, if after the usual Time of reckoninjr the 
 young one does not make its Appearance. A 
 Chymical Operation could not be followed with 
 greater Art or Diligence, than is seen in the hatching 
 of a Chick ; though there are many other Birds that 
 show an infinitely greater Sagacity in all the foremen- 
 tioned Particulars. 
 
 But at the same time the Hen, that has all this 
 seeming Ingenuity, (which is indeed absolutely neces- 
 sary for the Propagation of the Species) considered in 
 other respects, is without the least Glimmerings of 
 Thought or common Sense. She mistakes a Piece of 
 Chalk for an Egg, and sits upon it in the same 
 manner : She is insensible of any Increase or Dimi- 
 nution in the Number of those she lays : She does not 
 distinguish between her own and those of another 
 Species ; and when the Birth appears of never so 
 different a Bird, will cherish it for her own. In all 
 these Circumstances which do not carry an immediate 
 Regard to the Subsistence of herself or her Species, 
 she is a very Idiot. 
 
 There is not, in my Opinion, any thing more mys- 
 terious in Nature than this Instinct in Animals, which 
 
98 THE COVERLET DUCKS. 
 
 thus rises above Reason, and falls infinitely short of 
 it. It cannot be accounted for by any Properties in 
 Matter, and at the same time works after so odd a 
 manner, that one cannot think it the Faculty of an 
 intellectual Being. For my own part, I look upon it 
 as upon the Principle of Gravitation in Bodies, which 
 is not to be explained by any known Qualities inherent 
 in the Bodies themselves, nor from any Laws of 
 Mechanism, but, according to the best Notions of the 
 greatest Philosophers, is an immediate Impression 
 from the first Mover, and the Divine Energy acting 
 in the Creatures. 
 
 As I was walking this Morning in the great Yard 
 that belongs to my Friend's Country-House, I was 
 wonderfully pleased to see the different Workings of 
 Instinct in a Hen followed by a Brood of Ducks. 
 The Young, upon the sight of a Pond, immediately 
 ran into it ; while the Step-mother, with all imaginable 
 Anxiety, hovered about the Borders of it, to call them 
 out of an Element that appeared to her so dangerous 
 and destructive. As the different Principle which 
 acted in these diflferent Animals cannot be termed 
 Reason, so when we call it Instinct^ we mean some- 
 thing we have no Knowledge of. To me, as I hinted 
 in my last Paper, it seems the immediate Direction 
 of Providence, and such an Operation of the supreme 
 
THE COVERLET DUCKS. 99 
 
 Being, as that which determines all the Portions of 
 Matter to their proper Centres. A modern Philoso- 
 })her, quoted by Monsieur Bayle in his learned Disser- 
 tation on the Souls of Brutes, delivers the same 
 Opinion, though in a bolder Form of Words, where 
 he says, Deus est Anima Brutorum^ God himself is 
 the Soul of Brutes. Who can tell what to call that 
 seeming Sagacity in Animals, which directs them to 
 such Food as is proper for them, and makes them 
 naturally avoid whatever is noxious or unwholesom : 
 Tully has observed, that a Lamb no sooner falls from 
 its Mother, but immediately, and of his own accord, 
 applies itself to the Teat. Danipier, in his Travels, 
 tells us, that when Seamen are thrown upon any of 
 the unknown Coasts of America^ they never venture 
 upon the Fruit of any Tree, how tempting soever 
 it may appear, unless they observe that it is marked 
 with the Pecking of Birds ; but fall on without any 
 Fear or Apprehension where the Birds have been 
 before them. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Sir Roger on the Bench. 
 
 Comes jucundus in via pro vehiculo est. Publ. 
 
 A MAN'S first Care should be to avoid the Re- 
 -^ proaches of his own Heart ; his next, to escape 
 the Censures of the World : If the last interferes with 
 the former, it ought to be entirely neglected ; but 
 otherwise there cannot be a greater Satisfaction to an 
 honest Mind, than to see those Appropriations which 
 it gives itself, seconded by the Applauses of the Pub- 
 lick : A Man is more sure of his Conduct, when the 
 Verdict which he passes upon his own Behaviour is 
 thus warranted and confirmed by the Opinion of all 
 that know him. 
 
 My worthy Friend Sir Roger is one of those who 
 is not only at Peace within himself, but beloved and 
 esteemed by all about him. He receives a suitable 
 Tribute for his universal Benevolence to Mankind, in 
 the Returns of Affection and Good-will, which are 
 paid him by every one that lives within his Neigh- 
 
SIR ROGER ON THE BENCH. 101 
 
 bourhood. I lately met with two or three odd Instan- 
 ces of that general Respect which is shewn to the 
 good old Knight. He would needs carry Will Wimble 
 and myself with him to the County Assizes : As we 
 were upon the Road Will Wimble joined a couple of 
 plain Men who rid before us, and conversed with them 
 for some time ; during which my Friend Sir Roger 
 acquainted me with their Characters. 
 
 The first of them, says he, that has a Spaniel by 
 his Side, is a Yeoman of about an hundred Pounds a 
 Year, an honest Man : He is just within the Game 
 Act, and qualified to kill an Hare or a Pheasant: He 
 knocks down a Dinner with his Gun twice or thrice a 
 Week ; and by that means lives much cheaper than 
 those who have not so good an Estate as himself. 
 He would be a good Neighbour if he did not destroy 
 so many Partridges : in short, he is a very sensible 
 Man ; shoots flying ; and has been several times 
 Foreman of the Petty Jury. 
 
 The other that rides along with him is Tom Touchy^ 
 a Fellow famous for taking the Laio of every Body. 
 There is not one in the Town where he lives that he 
 has not sued at a Quarter-Sessions. The Rogue had 
 once the Impudence to go to Law with the Widow. 
 His Head is full of Costs, Damages, and Ejectments : 
 He plagued a couple of honest Gentlemen so long 
 
102 SIR ROGER ON THE BENCH. 
 
 for a Trespass in breaking one of his Hedges, till he 
 was forced to sell the Ground it enclosed to defray 
 the Charges of the Prosecution : His Father left him 
 fourscore Pounds a Year ; but he has cast and been 
 cast so often, that he is not now worth thirty. I sup- 
 pose he is going upon the old Business of the Willow- 
 Tree. 
 
 As Sir Roger was giving me this Account of Tom 
 Touchy, Will Wimble and his two Companions stop- 
 ped short till we came up to them. After having 
 paid their Respects to Sir Roger, Will told him that 
 Mr. Touchy and he must appeal to him upon a Dis- 
 pute that arose between them. Will it seems had 
 been giving his Fellow-Travellers an Account of his 
 Angling one Day in such a Hole ; when Tom Touchy, 
 instead of hearing out his Story, told him that Mr. 
 such an One, if he pleased, might take the Law of him 
 for fishing in that Part of the River. My Friend Sir 
 Roger heard them both, upon a round Trot ; and 
 after having paused some time told them, with the 
 Air of a Man who would not give his Judgment 
 rashly, that much might he said on both Sides. They 
 were neither of them dissatisfied with the Knight's 
 Determination, because neither of them found himself 
 in the Wrong by it : Upon w^hich we made the best 
 of our Way to the Assizes. 
 
SIR ROGER ON THE BENCH. 103 
 
 The Court was sat before Sir Roger came ; but 
 notwithstanding all the Justices had taken their Places 
 upon the Bench, they made room for the old Knight 
 at the Head of them ; who, for his Reputation in the 
 Country, took occasion to whisper in the Judge's Ear, 
 That he laas glad his Lordship had met loith so much 
 good Weather in his Circuit. I was listening to the 
 Proceeding of the Court with much Attention, and 
 infinitely pleased with that great Appearance and 
 Solemnity which so properly accompanies such a 
 publick Administration of our Laws ; when, after 
 about an Hour's Sitting, I observed to my great Sur- 
 prise,' in the midst of a Trial, that my Friend Sir 
 Roger was getting up to speak. I was in some Pain 
 for him, 'till I found he had acquitted himself of two 
 or three Sentences, with a Look of much Business 
 and great Intrepidity. 
 
 Upon his first Rising the Court was hushed, and a 
 general Whisper ran among the Country People that 
 Sir Roger teas up. The speech he made was so 
 little to the Purpose, that I shall not trouble my Read- 
 ers with an Account of it ; and I believe was not so 
 much designed by the Knight himself to inform the 
 Court, as to give him a Figure in my Eye, and keep 
 up his Credit in the Country. 
 
 I was highly delighted, when the Court rose, to see 
 
104 SIR ROGER ON THE BENCH. 
 
 the Gentlemen of the Country gathering about my old 
 Friend, and striving who should compliment him most; 
 at the same time that the ordinary People gazed upon 
 him at a distance, not a little admiring his Courage, 
 that was not afraid to speak to the Judge. 
 
 In our Return home we met with a very odd 
 Accident ; which I cannot forbear relating, because it 
 shews how desirous all who know Sir Roger are of 
 giving him Marks of their Esteem. When we were 
 arrived upon the Verge of his Estate, we stopped at a 
 little Inn to rest ourselves and our Horses. The Man 
 of the Plouse had it seems been formerly a Servant in 
 the Knight's Family ; and to do Honour to his old 
 Master, had some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, 
 put him up in a Sign-post before the Door ; so that the 
 KnighVs Head had hung out upon the Road about a 
 Week before he himself knew any thing of the Matter. 
 As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding 
 that his Servant's Indiscretion proceeded wholly from 
 Affection and Good-will, he only told him that he had 
 made him too high a Compliment ; and when the 
 Fellow seemed to think that could hardly be, added 
 with a more decisive Look, That it was too great an 
 Honour for any Man under a Duke ; but told him at 
 the same time, that it might be altered with a very few 
 Touches, and that he himself would be at the Charge 
 
SIR ROGER ON THE BENCH. 105 
 
 of it. Accordingly they got a Painter by the Knight's 
 Directions to add a pair of Whiskers to the Face, and 
 by a little Aggravation of the Features to change it 
 into the Saracen'' s- Head. I should not have known 
 this Story had not the Inn-keeper, upon Sir Roger's 
 alighting, told him in my Hearing, That his Honour's 
 Head was brought back last Night with the Alterations 
 that he had ordered to be made in it. Upon this my 
 Friend with his usual Chearfulness related the Par- 
 ticulars above-mentioned, and ordered the Head to be 
 brouo;ht into the Room. I could not forbear discover- 
 ing greater Expressions of Mirth than ordinary upon 
 the Appearance of this monstrous Face, under which, 
 notwithstandincr it was made to frown and stare in a 
 most extraordinaiy manner, I could still discover a 
 distant Resemblance of my old Friend. Sir Roger, 
 upon seeing me laugh, desired me to tell him truly if 
 I thought it possible for People to know him in that 
 Disguise. I at first kept my usual Silence ; but upon 
 the Knight's conjuring me to tell him whether it was 
 not still more like himself than a Saracen^ I composed 
 my Countenance in the best manner I could, and 
 replied. That much might he said on both Sides. 
 
 These several Adventures, with the Knight's Be- 
 haviour in them, gave me as pleasant a Day as ever I 
 met with in any of my Travels. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A Story of an Heir. 
 
 Doctrina sed vim promovet imitam, 
 Eectique cultus pectora roborant : 
 Utcunque defecere mores, 
 Dedecorant bene nata culpcB. Hor. 1 
 
 i S I was Yesterday taking the Air with my Friend 
 -^-*- Sir Roger, we were met by a fresh-coloured 
 ruddy young man who rid by us full Speed, with a 
 couple of Servants behind him. Upon my Inquiry 
 who he was, Sir Roger told me that he was a young 
 Gentleman of a considerable Estate, who had been 
 educated by a tender Mother that lived not many i 
 Miles from the Place where we were. She is a very i 
 good Lady, says my Friend, but took so much care of 
 lier Son's Health, that she has made him good for 
 nothing. She quickly found that Reading was bad 
 for his Eyes, and that Writing made his Head ake. 
 He was let loose amono; the Woods as soon as he was 
 able to ride on Horseback, or to carry a Gun upon his 
 Shoulder. To be brief, I found, by my Friend's Ac- 
 
 i 
 
THE STORY OF AN HEIR. 107 
 
 count of him, that he had got a great Stock of Health, 
 but nothing else ; and that if it were a Man's Business 
 only to live, there would not be a more accomplished 
 young Fellow in the whole Country. 
 
 The Truth of it is, since my residing in these Parts 
 I have seen and heard innumerable Instances of 
 young Heirs and elder Brothers who either from their 
 own reflecting upon the Estates they are born to, and 
 therefore thinking all other Accomplishments unneces- 
 sary, or from hearing these Notions frequently incul- 
 cated to them by the Flattery of their Servants and 
 Domesticks, or from the same foolish Thought prevail- 
 ing in those who have the Care of their Education, 
 are of no manner of use but to keep up their Families, 
 and transmit their Lands and Houses in a Line to 
 Posterity. 
 
 This makes me often think on a Stoiy I have heard 
 of two Friends, which I shall give my Reader at 
 large, under feigned Names. The Moral of it may, 
 I hope, be useful, though there are some Circum- 
 stances which make it rather appear like a Novel, 
 than a true Story. 
 
 Eudoxus and Leontine began the World with small 
 Estates. They were both of them Men of good 
 Sense and great Virtue. They prosecuted their Stu- 
 dies too;ether in their earlier Years, and entered into 
 
lOS THE STORY OF AN HEIR. 
 
 such a Friendship as lasted to the end of their Lives. 
 Eudoxus, at his first setting out in the World, threw 
 himself into a Court, where, by his natural Endow- 
 ments and his acquired Abilities, he made his way 
 from one Post to another, till at length he had raised 
 a very considerable Fortune. Leontme on the con- 
 trary sought all Opportunities of improving his Mind 
 by Study, Conversation and Travel. He was not only 
 acquainted with all the Sciences, but with the most 
 eminent Professors of them throughout Europe. He 
 knew perfectly well the Interests of its Princes, with 
 the Customs and Fashions of their Courts, and could 
 scarce meet with the Name of an extraordinary Per- 
 son in the Gazette whom he had not either talked to 
 or seen. In short, he had so well mixt and digested 
 his Knowledge of Men and Books, that he made one 
 of the most accomplished Persons of his Age. Dur- 
 ing the whole Course of his Studies and Travels he 
 kept up a punctual Correspondence with Eudoxus, 
 who often made himself acceptable to the principal 
 Men about Court by the Intelligence which he received 
 from Leontine. When they were both turned of 
 Forty (an Age in which, according to Mr. Coialey, 
 there is no dallying with Life) they determined, pur- 
 suant to the Resolution they had taken in the begin- 
 ning of their Lives, to retire, and pass the Remainder 
 
THE STORY OF AN HEIR. 109 
 
 of their Days in the Country. In order to this, they 
 both of them married much about the same time. 
 Leontine^ with his own and his Wife's Fortune, bought 
 a Farm of three hundred a Year, which lay within 
 the Neighbourhood of his Friend Eudoxus, who had 
 purchased an Estate of as many thousands. They 
 were both of them Fathers about the same time, 
 Eudoxus having a Son born to him, and Leontine a 
 Daughter ; but to the unspeakable Grief of the latter, 
 his young Wife (in whom all his Happiness was wrapt 
 up) died in a few Days after the Birth of her Daugh- 
 ter. His Affliction would have been insupportable, 
 had not he been comforted by the daily Visits and 
 Conversations of his Friend. As they were one Day 
 talking together with their usual Intimacy, Leontine, 
 considering how incapable he was of giving his 
 Daughter a proper Education in his own House, and 
 Eudoxus reflecting on the ordinary Behaviour of a 
 Son who knows himself to be the Heir of a great 
 Estate, they both agreed upon an Exchange of Chil- 
 dren, namely, that the Boy should be bred up with 
 Leontine as his Son, and that the Girl should live 
 with Eudoxus as his Daughter, till they were each of 
 them arrived at Years of Discretion. The Wife of 
 Eudoxus, knowing that her Son could not be so advan- 
 tageously brought up as under the Care of Leontine, 
 
110 THE STORY OF AN HEIR. 
 
 and considering at the same time that he would be 
 perpetually under her own Eye, was by Degrees 
 prevailed upon to fall in with the Project. She there- 
 fore took Leonilla^ for that was the Name of the 
 Girl, and educated her as her own Daughter. The 
 two Friends on each side had wrought themselves to 
 such an habitual Tenderness for the Children who 
 were under their Direction, that each of them had the 
 real Passion of a Father, where the Title was but 
 imaginary. Florio, the Name of the young Heir 
 that lived with Leontine, though he had all the Duty 
 and Affection imaginable for his supposed Parent, 
 was taught to rejoice at the Sight of Eudoxus, who 
 visited his Friend very frequently, and was dictated 
 by his natural Affection, as well as by the Rules of 
 Prudence, to make himself esteemed and beloved by 
 Florio. The Boy was now old enough to know his 
 supposed Father's Circumstances, and that therefore 
 he was to make his way in the World by his own 
 Industry. This Consideration grew stronger in him 
 every Day, and produced so good an Effect, that he 
 applied himself with more than ordinary Attention 
 to the Pursuit of every thing which Leontine recom- 
 mended to him. His natural Abilities, which were 
 very good, assisted by the Directions of so excellent 
 a Counsellor, enabled him to make a quicker Progress 
 
THE STORY OF AN HEIR. Ill 
 
 than ordinary through all the Parts of his Education. 
 Before he was twenty Years of Age, having finished 
 his Studies and Exercises with great Applause, he 
 was removed from the University to the Inns of Court, 
 where there are very few that make themselves con- 
 siderable Proficients in the Studies of the Place, who 
 know they shall arrive at great Estates without them. 
 This was not Florio'^s Case ; he found that three 
 hundred a Year was but a poor Estate for Leontine 
 and himself to live upon, so that he studied without 
 Intermission till he gained a very good Insight into the 
 Constitution and Laws of his Country. 
 
 I should have told my Reader, that whilst Florio 
 lived at the House of his Foster-father, he was always 
 an acceptable Guest in the Family of Eudoxus, where 
 he became acquainted with Leonilla from her Infancy. 
 His Acquaintance with her by degrees grew into 
 Love, which, in a Mind trained up in all the Senti- 
 ments of Honour and Virtue, became a very uneasy 
 Passion. He despaired of gaining an Heiress of so 
 great a Fortune, and would rather have died than 
 attempted it by any indirect Methods. Leonilla, who 
 was a Woman of the greatest Beauty joined with the 
 greatest Modesty, entertained at the same time a secret 
 Passion for Florio, but conducted herself with so 
 niucli Prudence that she never gave him the least 
 
112 THE STORY OF AN HEIR. 
 
 Intimation of it. Florio was now engaged in all 
 those Arts and Improvements that are proper to raise 
 a Man's private Fortune, and give him a Figure in 
 his Country, but secretly tormented with that Passion 
 which burns with the greatest Fury in a virtuous and 
 noble Heart, when he received a sudden Summons 
 from Leojitine, to repair to him in the Country the 
 next Day. For it seems Eudoxus was so filled with 
 the Report of his Son's Reputation, that he could no 
 longer withhold making himself known to him. The 
 Morning after his Arrival at the House of his supposed 
 Father, Leontine told him that Eudoxus had something 
 of great Importance to communicate to him ; upon 
 which the good Man embraced him and wept. Florio 
 was no sooner arrived at the great House that stood 
 in his Neighbourhood, but Eudoxus took him by the 
 Hand, after the first Salutes were over, and conducted 
 him into his Closet. He there opened to him the 
 whole Secret of his Parentage and Education, con- 
 cluding after this manner : 1 have no other way left 
 of acknowledging my Gratitude to Leontine, than iy 
 marrying you to his Daughter. He shall not lose the 
 Pleasure of being your Father by the Discovery I 
 have made to you. Leonilla, too, shall be still my 
 Daughter ; her filial Piety, though misplaced, has 
 been so exemjjlary, that it deserves the greatest Reivard 
 
THE STORY OF AN HEIR. 113 
 
 I can confer upon it. You shall have the pleasure of 
 seeing a great Estate fall to you, which you would 
 have lost the Relish of had you known yourself born 
 to it. Continue only to deserve it in the same manner 
 you did before you loere possessed of it. I have left 
 your Mother in the next Room. Her Heart yearns 
 toicards you. She is making the same Discoveries 
 to Leonilla which I have made to yourself Florio 
 was so overwhelmed with this Profusion of Happiness, 
 that he was not able to make a Reply, but threw 
 himself down at his Father's Feet, and amidst a flood 
 of Tears, kissed and embraced his Knees, asking his 
 Blessing, and expressing in dumb Show those Senti- 
 ments of Love, Duty, and Gratitude that were too big 
 for Utterance. To conclude, the happy Pair were 
 married, and half Eudoxus'^s Estate settled upon 
 them. Leontine and Eudoxus passed the Remainder 
 of their Lives together ; and received in the dutiful 
 and affectionate Behaviour of Florio and Leonilla the 
 just Recompence, as well as the natural Effects, of 
 that Care which they had bestowed upon them in their 
 Education. 
 
CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 Sir Roger and Party Spirit. 
 
 Ne, pueri, ne tanta animis assuescite bella : 
 
 Neu patrice validas in viscera vertite vires. Vma. 
 
 II /TY worthy Friend Sir Roger, when we are talking 
 ■^'-'- of the Malice of Parties, very frequently tells us 
 an Accident that happened to him when he was a 
 School-boy, which was at a time when the Feuds ran 
 high between the Round-heads and Cavaliers. This 
 worthy Knight, being then but a Stripling, had occa- 
 sion to inquire which was the Way to St. Anne's 
 Lane, upon which the Person whom he spoke to, 
 instead of answering his Question, called him a young 
 Popish Cur, and asked him who had made Anne a 
 Saint ! The Boy, being in some Confusion, inquired 
 of the next he met, which was the Way to Anne'^s 
 Lane ; but was called a prick-eared Cur for his Pains, 
 and instead of being shewn the Way, was told that 
 she had been a Saint before he was born, and would 
 be one after he was hanged. Upon this, says Sir 
 
SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 115 
 
 Roger, I did not think fit to repeat the former Ques- 
 tion, but going into every Lane of the Neighbour- 
 hood, asked what they called the Name of that Lane. 
 By which ingenious Artifice he found out the Place he 
 inquired after, without giving Offence to any Party. 
 Sir Roger generally closes this Narrative with Re- 
 flexions on the Mischief that Parties do in the Country ; 
 how they spoil good Neighbourhood, and make honest 
 Gentlemen hate one another ; besides that they mani- 
 festly tend to the prejudice of the Land-Tax, and the 
 Destruction of the Game. 
 
 There cannot a greater Judgment befal a Country 
 than such a dreadful Spirit of Division as rends a 
 Government into two distinct People, and makes them 
 greater Strangers and more averse to one another, 
 than if they were actually two different Nations. The 
 Effects of such a Division are pernicious to the last 
 degree, not only with regard to those Advantages 
 which they give the Common Enemy, but to those 
 private Evils which they produce in the Heart of 
 almost every particular Person. This Influence is 
 very fatal both to Men's Morals and their Understand- 
 ings ; it sinks the Virtue of a Nation, and not only so, 
 but destroys even Common Sense. 
 
 A furious Party Spirit, when it rages in its full 
 Violence, exerts itself in Civil War and Bloodshed ; 
 
116 SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 
 
 and when it is under its greatest Restraints naturally 
 breaks out in Falsehood, Detraction, Calumny, and a 
 partial Administration of Justice. In a word, it fills a 
 Nation with Spleen and Rancour, and extinguishes all 
 the Seeds of Good-nature, Compassion, and Human- 
 ity. 
 
 I remember to have read in Diodoriis Siculus an 
 Account of a very active little Animal, which I think 
 he calls the Ichneumon, that makes it the whole Busi- 
 ness of his Life to break the Eggs of the Crocodile, 
 which he is always in search after. This Instinct is 
 the more remarkable, because the Ichneumon never 
 feeds upon the Eggs he has broken, nor any other 
 Way finds his Account in them. Were it not for the 
 incessant Labours of this industrious Animal, jEgypt, 
 says the Historian, would be over-run with Crocodiles ; 
 for the ^Egyptians are so far from destroying those 
 pernicious Creatures, that they worship them as Gods. 
 
 If we look into the Behaviour of ordinary Partizans, 
 we shall find them far from resembling this disinter- 
 ested Animal ; and rather acting after the Example 
 of the wild Tartars, who are ambitious of destroying 
 a Man of the most extraordinary Parts and Accom- 
 plishments, as thinking that upon his Decease the 
 same Talents, whatever Post they qualified him for, 
 enter of Course into his Destroyer. 
 
SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 117 
 
 As in the whole Train of my Speculations, I have 
 endeavoured as much as I am able to extinguish that 
 pernicious Spirit of Passion and Prejudice, which 
 rages with the same Violence in all Parties, I am still 
 the more desirous of doing some Good in this Particu- 
 lar, because I observe that the Spirit of Party reigns 
 more in the Country than in the Town. It here con- 
 tracts a kind of Brutality and rustick Fierceness, to 
 which Men of a politer Conversation are wholly Stran- 
 gers. It extends itself even to the Return of the Bow 
 and the Hat ; and at the same time that the Heads of 
 Parties preserve towards one another an outward Show 
 of Good-breeding, and keep up a perpetual Intercourse 
 of Civilities, their Tools that are dispersed in these 
 outlying Parts will not so much as mingle together at 
 a Cock-match. This Humour fills the Country with 
 several periodical Meetings of Whig Jockies and Tory 
 Fox-hunters ; not to mention the innumerable Curses, 
 Frowns, and Whispers it produces at a Quarter- 
 Sessions. 
 
 I do not know whether I have observed in any of 
 my former Papers, that my Friends Sir Roger be 
 CovERLEY and Sir Andrew Freeport are of different 
 Principles, the first of them inclined to the landed^ 
 and the other to the monied Interest. This Humour is 
 so moderate in each of them, that it proceeds no farther 
 
118 SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 
 
 than to an agreeable Rallery, which very often diverts 
 the rest of the Club. I find however that the Knight 
 is a much stronger Tory in the Country than in Town, 
 which, as he has told me in my Ear, is absolutely 
 necessary for the keeping up his Interest. In all our 
 Journey from London to his House we did not so 
 much as bait at a Whig-Inn ; or if by chance the 
 Coachman stopped at a wrong Place, one of Sir 
 Roger's Servants would ride up to his Master full 
 Speed, and whisper to him that the Master of the 
 House was against such an one in the last Election. 
 This often betrayed us into hard Beds and bad Cheer ; 
 for we were not so inquisitive about the Inn as the 
 Inn-keeper ; and, provided our Landlord's Principles 
 were sound, did not take any Notice of the Staleness 
 of his Provisions. This I found still the more incon- 
 venient, because the better the Host was, the worse 
 generally were his Accommodations ; the Fellow 
 knowing very well that those who were his Friends 
 would take up with coarse Diet and an hard Lodging. 
 For these Reasons, all the while I was upon the Road 
 I dreaded entering into an House of any one that Sir 
 Roger had applauded for an honest Man. 
 
 Since my Stay at Sir Roger's in the Country, I 
 daily find more Instances of this narrow Party-humour. 
 Being upon a Bowling-green at a neighbouring Market 
 
SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 119 
 
 Town the other Day, (for that is the Place where the 
 Gentlemen of one Side meet once a Week) I observed 
 a Stranger among them of a better Presence and 
 genteeler Behaviour than ordinary ; but was much 
 surprised, that notwithstanding he was a very fair 
 Better^ no Body would take him up. But upon In- 
 quiry 1 found, that he was one who had given a disa- 
 greeable Vote in a former Parliament, for which 
 Reason there was not a Man upon that Bowling- 
 green who would have so much Correspondence with 
 him as to win his Money of him. 
 
 Among other instances of this Nature, I must not 
 omit one vvhich concerns myself. Will Wimble was 
 the other Day relating several strange Stories that 
 he had picked up no Body knows where of a certain 
 great Man ; and upon my staring at him, as one 
 that was suprised to hear such Things in the Coun- 
 try, which had never been so much as whispered in 
 the Town, Will stopped short in the Thread of his 
 Discourse, and after Dinner asked my Friend Sir 
 Roger in his Ear if he was sure that I was not a 
 Fanatick. 
 
 It gives me a serious Concern to see such a Spirit 
 of Dissension in the Country ; not only as it destroys 
 Virtue and common Sense, and renders us in a manner 
 Barbarians towards one another, but as it perpetuates 
 
120 
 
 SIR ROGER AND PARTY SPIRIT. 
 
 our Animosities, widens our Breaches, and transmits 
 our present Passions and Prejudices to our Posterity. 
 For my own part, I am sometimes afraid that I dis- 
 cover the Seeds of a Civil War in these our Divisions ; 
 and therefore cannot but bewail, as in their first Prin- 
 ciples, the Miseries and Calamities of our Children. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 On Gipsies in General. 
 
 Semperque recentes 
 Convectare juvat prcedas, ^ vivere rapto . Vikg. 
 
 A S I was Yesterday riding out in the Fields with 
 ■^^ my Friend Sir Roger, we saw at a little Distance 
 from us a Troop of Gipsies. Upon the first Dis- 
 covery of them, my Friend was in some doubt whe- 
 ther he should not exert the Justice of the Peace upon 
 such a Band of Lawless Vagrants ; but not having 
 his Clerk with him, who is a necessary Counsellor 
 on these Occasions, and fearing that his Poultry might 
 fare the worse for it, he let the Thought drop : But 
 at the same time gave me a particular Account of 
 the Mischiefs they do in the Country, in stealing 
 People's Goods and spoiling their Servants. If a 
 stray Piece of Linen hangs upon an Hedge, says Sir 
 Roger, they are sure to have it ; if the Hog loses his 
 Way in the Fields, it is ten to one but he becomes 
 their Prey ; our Geese cannot live in Peace for them ; 
 
122 ON GIPSIES IN GENERAL. 
 
 if a Man prosecutes them with Seventy, his Henroost 
 is sure to pay for it : They generally straggle into 
 these Parts about this Time of the Year ; and set the 
 Heads of our Servant-Maids so agog for Husbands, 
 that we do not expect to have any Business done as it 
 should be whilst they are in the Country. I have an 
 honest Dairy-maid who crosses their Hands with a 
 Piece of Silver every Summer, and never fails being 
 promised the handsomest young Fellow in the Parish 
 for her pains. Your Friend the Butler has been Fool 
 enough to be seduced by them ; and, though he is 
 sure to lose a Knife, a Fork, or a Spoon every time 
 his Fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in 
 the Pantry with an old Gipsy for above half an Hour 
 once in a Twelvemonth. Sweet-hearts are the things 
 they live upon, which they bestow very plentifully 
 upon all those that apply themselves to them. You 
 see now and then some handsom young Jades among 
 them: The Sluts have very often white Teeth and 
 black Eyes. 
 
 Sir Roger observing that I listened with great 
 Attention to his Account of a People who were so 
 entirely new to me, told me. That if I would they 
 should tell us our Fortunes. As I was very well 
 pleased with the Knight's Proposal, we rid up and 
 communicated our Hands to them. A Cassandra of 
 
THE COVERLEY GIPSIES. 123 
 
 the Crew, after having examined my Lines very dili- 
 gently, told me. That I loved a pretty Maid in a 
 Corner, that 1 was a good Woman's Man, with some 
 other Particulars which I do not think proper to relate. 
 My Friend Sir Roger alighted from his Horse, and 
 exposing his Palm to two or three that stood by him, 
 they crumpled it into all Shapes, and diligently 
 scanned every Wrinkle that could be made in it ; 
 when one of them, who was older and more Sun-burnt 
 than the rest, told him. That he had a Widow in his 
 Line of Life : Upon which the Knight cried. Go, go, 
 you are an idle Baggage ; and at the same time 
 smiled upon me. The Gipsy finding he was not 
 displeased in his Heart, told him, after a farther 
 Inquiry into his Hand, that his True-love was con- 
 stant, and that she should dream of him to-night : My 
 old Friend cried Pish, and bid her go on. The Gipsy 
 told him that he was a Bachelor, but would not be so 
 long ; and that he was dearer to somebody than he 
 thought: The Knight still repeated She was an idle 
 Baggage, and bid her go on. Ah Master, says the 
 Gipsy, that roguish Leer of yours makes a pretty 
 Woman's Heart ake ; you han't that simper about the 
 
 Mouth for nothing . The uncouth Gibberish with 
 
 which all this was uttered like the Darkness of an 
 Oracle, made us the more attentive to it. To be 
 
124 THE COVERLEY GIPSIES. 
 
 short, The Knight left the Money with her that he 
 had crossed her Hand with, and got up again on his 
 Horse. 
 
 As we were riding away. Sir Roger told me, that 
 he knew several sensible People who believed these 
 Gipsies now and then foretold very strange things ; 
 and for half an Hour together appeared more jocund 
 than ordinary. In the Height of his Good-humour, 
 meeting a common Beggar upon the Road who was 
 no Conjurer, as he went to relieve him he found his 
 Pocket was picked : That being a Kind of Palmistry 
 at which this Race of Vermin are very dexterous. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A Summons to London. 
 Ipscs rursum concedite Sylva. Virg. 
 
 TT is usual for a Man who loves Country Sports to 
 -*- preserve the Game in his own Grounds, and divert 
 himself upon those that belong to his Neighbour. My 
 Friend Sir Roger generally goes two or three Miles 
 from his House, and gets into the Frontiers of his 
 Estate, before he beats about in search of a Hare or 
 Partridge, on purpose to spare his own Fields, where 
 he is always sure of finding Diversion when the worst 
 comes to the worst. By this Means the Breed about 
 his House has time to increase and multiply, besides 
 that the Sport is the more agreeable where the Game 
 is the harder to come at, and where it does not lie so 
 thick as to produce any Perplexity or Confusion in the 
 Pursuit. For these Reasons the Country Gentleman, 
 like the Fox, seldom preys near his own Home. 
 
 In the same manner I have made a Month's Excur- 
 sion out of the Town, which is the great Field of 
 
123 A SUMMONS TO LONDON. 
 
 Game for Sportsmen of my Species, to try my For- 
 tune in the Country, where I have started several 
 Subjects, and hunted them down, with some Pleasure 
 to myself, and I hope to others. I am here forced to 
 use a great deal of Diligence before 1 can spring any- 
 thing to my Mind, whereas in Town, whilst I am 
 following one Character, it is ten to one but I am 
 crossed in my way by another, and put up such a 
 Variety of odd Creatures in both Sexes, that they foil 
 the Scent of one another, and puzzle the Chace. My 
 greatest Difficulty in the Country is to find Sport, and 
 in Town to choose it. In the mean time, as I have 
 given a whole Month's Rest to the Cities of London 
 and Westminster, I promise myself abundance of new 
 Game upon my return thither. 
 
 It is indeed high time for me to leave the Country, 
 since I find the whole Neighbourhood begin to grow 
 very inquisitive after my Name and Character : My 
 Love of Solitude, Taciturnity, and particular way of 
 Life, having raised a great Curiosity in all these 
 Parts. 
 
 The Notions which have been framed of me are 
 various ; some look upon me as very proud, some as 
 very modest, and some as very melancholy. Will 
 Wimhle, as my Friend the Butler tells me, observing 
 me very much alone, and extremely silent when I am 
 
A SUMMONS TO LONDON. 127 
 
 in Company, is afraid I have killed a Man. The 
 Country People seem to suspect me for a Conjurer ; 
 and some of them hearing of the Visit which I made 
 to Moll While., will needs have it that Sir Roger has 
 brought down a cunning Man with him, to cure the 
 old Woman, and free the Country from her Charms. 
 So that the Character which I go under in part of the 
 Neighbourhood, is what they here call a White Witch. 
 
 A Justice of Peace, who lives about five Miles off, 
 and is not of Sir Roger's Party, has it seems said 
 twice or thrice at his Table, that he wishes Sir Roger 
 does not harbour a Jesuit in his House, and that he 
 thinks the Gentlemen of the Country would do very 
 well to make me give some Account of myself. 
 
 On the other side, some of Sir Roger's Friends 
 are afraid the old Knight is imposed upon by a design- 
 ing Fellow, and as they have heard that he converses 
 very promiscuously, when he is in Town, do not know 
 but he has brought down with him some discarded 
 Whig, that is sullen and says nothing because he is 
 out of Place. 
 
 Such is the Variety of Opinions which are here 
 entertained of me, so that I pass among some for a 
 disaffected Person, and among others for a Popish 
 Priest, among some for a Wizard, and among others 
 for a Murderer ; and all this for no other Reason, that 
 
128 A SUMMONS TO LONDON. 
 
 I can imagine, but because I do not hoot and hollow 
 and make a Noise. It is true my Friend Sir Roger 
 tells them, That it is my way, and that I am only a 
 Philosopher ; but this will not satisfy them. They 
 think there is more in me than he discovers, and that 
 I do not hold my Tongue for nothing. 
 
 For these and other Reasons I shall set out for 
 London to-morrow, having found by Experience that 
 the Countiy is not a Place for a Person of my Temper, 
 who does not love jollity, and what they call good 
 Neighbourhood. A Man that is out of Humour when 
 an unexpected Guest breaks in upon him, and does 
 not care for sacrificing an Afternoon to every Chance- 
 comer ; that will be the Master of his own Time, and 
 the Pursuer of his own Inclinations, makes but a very 
 unsociable Figure in this kind of Life. I shall there- 
 fore retire into the Town, if I may make use of that 
 Phrase, and get into the Crowd again as fast as I can 
 m order to be alone. I can there raise what Specula- 
 tions I please upon others without being observed 
 myself, and at the same time enjoy all the Advantages 
 of Company with all the Privileges of Solitude. In 
 the mean while, to finish the Month and conclude 
 these my rural Speculations, I shall here insert a 
 Letter from my Friend Will Honeycomb, who has 
 not lived a Month for these forty Years out of the 
 
A SUMMONS TO LONDON. 129 
 
 Smoke of London^ and rallies me after his way upon 
 my Country Life. 
 
 I 
 
 ' Bear Spec, 
 
 Suppose this Letter will find thee picking of 
 Daisies, or smelling to a Lock of Hay, or pass- 
 ' ing away thy Time in some innocent Country Diver- 
 ' sion of the like Nature. I have however Orders 
 
 * from the Club to summon thee up to Town, being 
 ' all of us cursedly afraid thou wilt not be able to 
 
 * relish our Company, after thy Conversations with 
 ' Moll White and Will Wimble. Pr'ythee don't send 
 ' us up any more Stories of a Cock and a Bull, nor 
 ' frighten the Town with Spirits and Witches. Thy 
 ' Speculations begin to smell confoundedly of Woods 
 ' and Meadows. If thou dost not come up quickly, 
 ' we shall conclude that thou art in Love with one of 
 ' Sir Roger's Dairy-Maids. Service to the Knight. 
 
 * Sir Andrew is grown the Cock of the Club since he 
 ' left us, and if he does not return quickly will make 
 ' every Mother's Son of us Commonwealth's Men. 
 
 ' Dear Spec, Thine Eternally^ 
 ' Will Honeycomb.' 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Farewell to Coverley Hall. 
 
 Qui, ant Tempus quid postulet non videt, aut flura loquitur, aut 
 se ostejitat, aut eorum quibuscum est rationem non habet, is 
 ineptus esse dicitur. Tull. 
 
 TTAVING notified to my good Friend Sir Roger 
 -*— ^ that I should set out for London the next Day, 
 his Horses were ready at the appointed Hour in the 
 Evening ; and attended by one of his Grooms, I ar- 
 rived at the County-Town at Twilight, in order to be 
 ready for the Stage-coach the Day following. As 
 soon as we arrived at the Inn, the Servant, who waited 
 upon me, inquired of the Chamberlain in my Hearing 
 what Company he had for the Coach ? The Fellow 
 answered, Mrs. Betty Arable the great Fortune, and 
 the Widow her Mother ; a recruiting Officer (who took 
 a Place because they were to go ;) young Squire 
 Quickset her Cousin (that her Mother wished her to be 
 married to ;) Ephraim the Quaker, her Guardian ; 
 and a Gentleman that had studied himself dumb from 
 Sir Roger de Coverley's. I observed by what he 
 
FAREWELL TO COVERLEY HALL. 131 
 
 said of myself, that according to his Office he dealt 
 much in Intelligence ; and doubted not but there was 
 some foundation for his Reports for the rest of the 
 Company, as well as for the whimsical Account he 
 gave of me. 
 
 The next Morning at Day-break we were all called ; 
 and I, who know my own natural shyness, and en- 
 deavour to be as little liable to be disputed with as 
 possible, dressed immediately, that I might make no 
 one wait. The first preparation for our Setting out 
 was, that the Captain's Half-Pike was placed near the 
 Coachman, and a Drum behind the Coach. In the 
 meantime the Drummer, the Captain's Equipage, was 
 very loud, that none of the Captain's Things should 
 be placed so as to be spoiled ; upon which his Cloke- 
 bag was fixed in the Seat of the Coach ; and the Cap- 
 tain himself, according to a frequent, though invidious 
 Behaviour of Military Men, ordered his Men to look 
 sharp, that none but one of the Ladies should have the 
 Place he had taken fronting to the Coach-box. 
 
 We were in some little time fixed in our Seats, and 
 sat with that dislike which People not too good- 
 natured usually conceive of each other at first Sight. 
 The Coach jumbled us insensibly into some sort of 
 Familiarity : and we had not moved above two Miles, 
 when the Widow asked the Captain what Success he 
 
132 FAREWELL TO COVERLET HALL. 
 
 had in his Recruiting ? The Officer with a Frankness 
 he believed very graceful, told her, ' That indeed he 
 ' had but very little Luck, and had suffered much by 
 ' Desertion, therefore should be glad to end his War- 
 ' fare in the Service of her or her fair Daughter. In a 
 ' word,' continued he, ' I am a Soldier, and to be plain 
 ' is my Character : You see me. Madam, young, sound, 
 
 * and impudent ; take me yourself. Widow, or give me 
 
 * to her, I will be wholly at your Disposal. I am a 
 ' Soldier of Fortune, ha ! ' This was followed by a 
 vain Laugh of his own, and a deep Silence of all the 
 rest of the Company. I had nothing left for it but to 
 fall fast asleep, which I did with all Speed. ' Come,' 
 said he, ' resolve upon it, we will make a Wedding at 
 ' the next Town : We will wake this pleasant Com- 
 ' panion who is fallen asleep, to be the Brideman, and ' 
 (giving the Quaker a Clap on the Knee) he concluded, 
 ' This sly Saint, who, I'll warrant, understands what's 
 ' what as well as you or I, Widow, shall give the Bride 
 ' as Father.' 
 
 The Quaker, who happened to be a Man of Smart- 
 ness, answered, 'Friend, I take it in good part, that 
 ' thou hast given me the Authority of a Father over 
 ' this comely and virtuous Child ; and I must assure 
 ' thee, that if I have the giving her, I shall not bestow 
 ' her on thee. Thy Mirth, Friend, savoureth of Folly : 
 
FAREWELL TO COVERLEY HALL. 133 
 
 ' Thou art a Person of a light Mind ; thy Drum is a 
 ' Type of thee, it soundeth because it is empty. Verily 
 ' it is not from thy Fulness, but thy Emptiness that 
 ' thou hast spoken this Day. Friend, Friend, we have 
 ' hired this Coach in Partnership with thee, to carry us 
 ' to the great City ; we cannot go any other Way. 
 ' This worthy Mother must hear thee if thou wilt needs 
 ' utter thy Follies ; we cannot help it. Friend, I say : 
 ' if thou wilt, we must hear thee : But if thou wert a 
 ' Man of Understanding, thou wouldst not take Ad- 
 ' vantage of thy courageous Countenance to abash us 
 ' Children of Peace. Thou art, thou sayest, a Soldier : 
 ' give Quarter to us, who cannot resist thee. Why 
 ' didst thou fleer at our Friend, who feigned himself 
 'asleep? he said nothing; but how dost thou know 
 ' what he containeth ? If thou speakest improper 
 ' things in the Hearing of this virtuous young Virgin, 
 '• consider it as an Outrage against a distressed Person 
 ' that cannot get from thee : To speak indiscreetly 
 ' what we are obliged to hear, by being hasped up with 
 ' thee in this publick Vehicle, is in some degree as- 
 ' saulting on the hig-h Road.' 
 
 Here Ephraim paused, and the Captain with an 
 happy and uncommon Impudence (which can be con- 
 victed and support itself at the same time) cries, 
 ' Faith, Friend, I thank thee ; I should have been a 
 
134 FAREWELL TO COVERLEY HALL. 
 
 ' little impertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me. 
 ' Come, thou art, I see, a smoky old Fellow, and I'll be 
 ' very orderly the ensuing Part of my Journey. 1 
 ' was going to give myself Airs, but. Ladies, I beg 
 ' Pardon.' 
 
 The Captain was so little out of Humour, and our 
 Company was so far from being soured by this little 
 Ruffle, that Ephraini and he took a peculiar Delight in 
 being agreeable to each other for the future ; and 
 assumed their different Provinces in the Conduct of the 
 Company. Our Reckonings, Apartments, and Accom- 
 modation, fell under Ejihraim : and the Captain looked 
 to all Disputes on the Road, as the good Behaviour of 
 our Coachman, and the right we had of taking Place 
 as going to London of all Vehicles coming from 
 thence. 
 
 The Occurrences we met with were ordinary, and 
 very little happened which could entertain by the 
 Relation of them : But when I considered the Com- 
 pany we were in, I took it for no small Good-fortune 
 that the whole Journey was not spent in Impertinen- 
 ces, which to the one Part of us might be an Enter- 
 tainment, to the other a Suffering. 
 
 What therefore Ephraim said when we were almost 
 arrived at London., had to me an Air not only of good 
 Understanding but good Breeding. Upon the young 
 
FAREWELL TO COVERLEY HALL. 135 
 
 Lady's expressing her Satisfaction in the Journey, and 
 declaring how delightful it had been to her, Ephraim 
 delivered himself as follows : ' There is no ordinary 
 ' Part of human Life which, expresseth so much a good 
 ' Mind, and a right inward Man, as his Behaviour upon 
 ' meeting with Strangers, especially such as may seem 
 ' the most unsuitable Companions to him : Such a 
 ' Man, when he falleth in the way with Persons of 
 ' Simplicity and Innocence, however knowing he may 
 ' be in the Ways of Men, will not vaunt himself 
 'thereof; but will the rather hide his Superiority to 
 ' them, that he may not be painful unto them. My 
 ' good Friend, (continued he, turning to the Officer) 
 ' thee and I are to part by and by, and peradventure 
 ' we may never meet again : But be advised by a plain 
 ' man ; Modes and Apparel are but Trifles to the real 
 ' Man, therefore do not think such a Man as thyself 
 ' terrible for thy Garb, nor such a one as me con- 
 ' temptible for mine. When two such as thee and I 
 ' meet, with Affections as we ought to have towards 
 ' each other, thou shouldst rejoice to see my peaceable 
 ' Demeanour, and I should be glad to see thy Strength 
 ' and Ability to protect me in it.' 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 Sir Roger in London. 
 
 ^vo rarissima nostra 
 Simplicitas. Oa^d. 
 
 T WAS this Morning surprised with a great knocking 
 -*- at the Door, when my Landlady's Daughter came 
 up to me, and told me that there was a man below 
 desired to speak with me. Upon my asking her who it 
 was, she told me it was a very grave elderly Person, but 
 that she did not know his Name. I immediately went 
 down to him, and found him to be the Coachman of 
 my worthy Friend Sir Roger de Covekley. He told 
 me that his Master came to Town last Night, and 
 would be glad to take a Turn with me in Gray'^s-Inn 
 Walks. As I was wondering in myself what had 
 brought Sir Roger to Town, not having lately re- 
 ceived any Letter from him, he told me that his 
 Master was come up to get a Sight of Prince Eugene., 
 and that he desired I would immediately meet him. 
 I was not a little pleased with the Curiosity of the 
 
SIR KOGER IN LONDON. 137 
 
 old Knight, though I did not much wonder at it, 
 having heard him say more than once in private Dis- 
 course, that he looked upon Prince Eugcnio (for so 
 the Knight always calls him) to be a greater man than 
 Scanderheg. 
 
 I was no sooner come into Gray''s-Inn Walks, but I 
 heard my Friend upon the Terrace hemming twice or 
 thrice to himself with great Vigour, for he loves to 
 clear his Pipes in good Air (to make use of his own 
 Phrase), and is not a little pleased with any one who 
 takes notice of the Strength which he still exerts in 
 his Morning Hemms. 
 
 I was touched with a secret Joy at the Sight of the 
 good old Man, who before he saw me was engaged in 
 Conversation with a Beggar-Man that had asked an 
 Alms of him. I could hear my Friend chide him for 
 not finding out some Work ; but at the same time saw 
 him put his Hand in his Pocket and give him Six- 
 pence. 
 
 Our Salutations were very hearty on both Sides, 
 consisting of many kind Shakes of the Hand, and 
 several affectionate Looks which we cast upon one 
 another. After which the Knight told me my good 
 Friend his Chaplain was very well, and much at my 
 Service, and that the Sunday before he had made a 
 most incomparable Sermon out of Doctor Barrow. I 
 
138 SIR ROGER IX LONDON. 
 
 have left, says he, all my Affairs in his Hands, and 
 being willing to lay an Obligation upon him, have 
 deposited with him thirty Marks, to be distributed 
 among his poor Parishioners. 
 
 He then proceeded to acquaint me with the Welfare 
 of Will Wimble. Upon which he put his Hand into 
 his Fob and presented me in his Name with a 
 Tobacco-Stopper, telling me that Will had been busy 
 all the Beginning of the Winter, in turning great 
 Quantities of them ; and that he made a Present of 
 one to every Gentleman in the Country who has good 
 Principles, and smokes. He added, that poor Will 
 was at present under great Tribulation, for that Tom 
 Touchy had taken the Law of him for cutting some 
 Hazel Sticks out of one of his Hedo-es. 
 
 Among other Pieces of News which the Knight 
 brought from his Country Seat, he informed me that 
 Moll White was dead ; and that about a Month after 
 her Death, the Wind was so very high, that it blew 
 down the End of one of his Barns. But for my own 
 Part, says Sir Roger, I do not think that the old 
 Woman had any Hand in it. 
 
 He afterwards fell into an Account of the Diversions 
 which had passed in his House during the Holidays ; 
 for Sir Roger, after the laudable Custom of his 
 Ancestors, always keeps open House at Christmas. I 
 
SIR ROGER IN LONDON. 139 
 
 learned from him, that he had killed eight fat Hogs for 
 this Season, that he had dealt about his Chines ver}- 
 liberally amongst his Neighbours, and that in particular 
 he had sent a string of Hogs-puddings with a pack of 
 Cards to every poor Family in the Parish. I have 
 often thought, says. Sir Roger, it happens very well 
 that Christmas should fall out in the middle of Winter. 
 It is the most dead uncomfortable Time of the Year, 
 when the poor People would Suffer very much from 
 their Poverty and Cold, if they had not good Cheer, 
 warm Fires, and Christmas Gambols to support them. 
 I love to rejoice their poor Hearts at this season, and to 
 see the whole Village merry in my great Hall. I 
 allow a double Quantity of Malt to my small Beer, 
 and set it a running for twelve Days to every one that 
 calls for it. I have always a Piece of cold Beef and 
 a Mince-Pye upon the Table, and am wonderfully 
 pleased to see my Tenants pass away a whole Evening 
 in playing their innocent Tricks, and smutting one 
 another. Our Friend Will Wimble is as merry as any 
 of them, and shows a thousand roguish Tricks upon 
 these occasions. 
 
 I was very much delighted with the Reflexion of 
 my old Friend, which carried so much Goodness in it. 
 He then lanched out into the Praise of the late Act of 
 Parliament for securing the Church of England^ and 
 
140 SIR ROGER IN LONDON. 
 
 told me, with great Satisfaction, that he believed it 
 already began to take Effect, for that a rigid Dissenter, 
 who chanced to dine at his House on Christmas Day, 
 had been observed to eat very plentifully of his Plum- 
 porridge. 
 
 After having dispatched all our Country Matters, Sir 
 Roger made several Inquiries concerning the Club, 
 and particularly of his old Antagonist Sir Andrew 
 Freeport. He asked me with a kind of a Smile, 
 whether Sir Andrew had not taken the Adva*ntage of 
 his Absence, to vent among them some of his Re- 
 publican Doctrines ; but soon after gathering up his 
 Countenance into a more than ordinary Seriousness, 
 Tell me truly, says he, don't you think Sir Andrew 
 
 had a Hand in the Pope's Procession but without 
 
 giving me time to answer him. Well, well, says he, I 
 know you are a wary Man, and do not care to talk of 
 publick Matters. 
 
 The Knight then asked me, if I had seen Prince 
 Eugenio, and made me promise to get him a Stand in 
 some convenient Place where he might have a full 
 Sight of that extraordinary Man, whose Presence does 
 so much Honour to the British Nation. He dwelt 
 very long on the Praises of this Great General, and I 
 found that, since I was with him in the Country, he 
 had drawn many Observations together out of his 
 
SIR ROGER IN LONDOxV. 141 
 
 reading in Baker''s Chronicle, and other Authors, who 
 always lie in his Hall Window, which very much 
 redound to the Honour of this Prince. 
 
 Having passed away the greatest Part of the Morn- 
 incr in hearinoc the Knight's Reflexions, which were 
 partly private, and partly political, he asked me if 1 
 would smoke a Pipe with him over a Dish of Coffee at 
 Squire's. As I loved the old Man, I take Delight in 
 complying with every thing that is agreeable to him, 
 and accordingly waited on him to the Coffee-house, 
 where his venerable Figure drew upon us the Eyes of 
 the whole Room. He had no sooner seated himself at 
 the upper End of the high Table, but he called for a 
 clean Pipe, a Paper of Tobacco, a Dish of Coffee, a 
 Wax-Candle, and the Supplement^ with such an Air of 
 Chearfulness and Good-humour, that all the Boys in 
 the Coffee-room (who seemed to take pleasure in sen'- 
 ing him) were at once employed on his several 
 Errands, insomuch that no Body else could come at 
 a Dish of Tea, till the Knight had got all his Con- 
 veniences about him. 
 
M 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey. 
 Ire iamen restat, Numa quo devenit, et Ancus. Hon. 
 Y Friend Sir Roger de Covehley told me t'other 
 
 IVI 
 
 •^'-^ Night, that he had been reading my Paper upon 
 Westminster- Abhey, in which, says he, there are a 
 great many ingenious Fancies. He told me at the same 
 time, that he observed I had promised another Paper 
 upon the Tomhs, and that he should be glad to go and 
 see them with me, not having visited them since he 
 had read History. I could not at first imagine how 
 this came into the Knight's Head, till I recollected that 
 he had been very busy all last Summer upon Baker'' s 
 Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his 
 Disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his last 
 coming to Town. Accordingly I promised to call 
 upon him the next Morning, that we might go together 
 to the Abbey. 
 
 I found the Knight under his Butler's Hands, who 
 
SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 143 
 
 always shaves him. He was no sooner Dressed, than 
 he called for a Glass of the Widow Tmehy''s Water, 
 which he told me he always drank before he went 
 abroad. He recommended to me a Dram of it at the 
 same time, with so much Heartiness, that I could not 
 forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got it down, I 
 found it very unpalatable ; upon which the Knight 
 observing that I had made several wry Faces, told me 
 that he knew I should not like it at first, but that it was 
 the best thing in the W^orld against the Stone or 
 Gravel. 
 
 I could have wished indeed that he had acquainted 
 me with the Virtues of it sooner ; but it was too late 
 to complain, and I knew what he had done was out of 
 Good-will. Sir Roger told me further, that he looked 
 upon it to be very good for a Man whilst he staid in 
 Town, to keep off Infection, and that he got together a 
 Quantity of it upon the first News of the Sickness 
 being at Dantzick : When of a sudden turning short 
 to one of his Servants, who stood behind him, he bid 
 him call a Hackney-Coach, and take care it was an 
 elderly Man that drove it. 
 
 He then resumed his Discourse upon Mrs. Truehifs 
 Water, telling me that the Widow Trueby was one 
 who did more good than all the Doctors and Apothe- 
 caries in the Country : That she distilled every Poppy 
 
144 SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 
 
 that grew within five miles of her ; that she distributed 
 her Water gratis among all sorts of People ; to which 
 the Knight added, that she had a very great Jointure, 
 and that the whole Country would fain have it a Match 
 between him and her ; and truly, says Sir Roger, if I 
 had not been engaged, perhaps I could not have done 
 better. 
 
 His Discourse was broken off by his Man's telling 
 him he had called a Coach. Upon our going to it, after 
 having cast his Eye upon the Wheels, he asked the 
 Coachman if his Axletree was good ; upon the Fellow's 
 telling him he would warrant it, the Knight turned to 
 me, told me he looked like an honest Man, and went 
 in without further Ceremony. 
 
 We had not gone far, when Sir Roger, popping out 
 his Head, called the Coachman down from his Box, 
 and, upon his presenting himself at the Window, 
 asked him if he smoked ; as I was considering what 
 this would end in, he bid him stop by the way at any 
 good Tobacconist's, and take in a Roll of their best 
 Virginia. Nothing material happened in the re- 
 maining Part of our Journey, till we were set down at 
 the West-end of the Ahley. 
 
 As we went up the Body of the Church, the Knight 
 pointed at the Trophies upon one of the new Monu- 
 ments, and cried out, A brave Man I warrant him ! 
 
SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 145 
 
 Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudsly Shovel, he flung 
 his hand that way, and cryed, Sir Cloudsly Shovel ! a 
 very gallant Man ! As we stood before Bushy''s Tomb, 
 the Knight uttered himself again after the same Man- 
 ner, Dr. Bushy, a great Man ! he whipped my Grand- 
 father ; a very great Man ! I should have gone to him 
 myself, if I had not been a Blockhead ; a very great 
 Man ! 
 
 We were immediately conducted into the little 
 Chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger, planting him- 
 self at our Historian's Elbow, was very attentive to 
 every thing he said, particularly to the Account he 
 gave us of the Lord who had cut off the King of 
 Morocco'^s Head. Among several other Figures, he 
 was very well pleased to see the Statesman Cecil upon 
 his Knees : and concluding them all to be great Men, 
 was conducted to the Figure which represents that 
 Martyr to good House wifry, who died by the prick of 
 a Needle. Upon our Interpreter's telling us, that she 
 was a Maid of Honour to Queen Elizabeth, the Knight 
 was very inquisitive into her Name and Family ; and 
 after having regarded her Finger for some time, I 
 wonder, says he, that Sir Richard Baker has said 
 nothing of her in his Chronicle. 
 
 We were then conveyed to the two Coronation 
 Chairs, where my old Friend, after having heard that 
 10 
 
146 SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 the Stone underneath the most ancient of them, which 
 was brought from Scotland, was called JacoVs Pillar, 
 sat himself down in the Chair ; and looking like the 
 Figure of an old Gothick King, asked our Interpreter, 
 what Authority they had to say, that Jacob had ever 
 been in Scotland ? The Fellow, instead of returning 
 him an Answer, told him, that he hoped his Honour 
 would pay his Forfeit. I could observe Sir Roger a 
 little ruffled upon being thus trepanned ; but our Guide 
 not insisting upon his Demand, the Knight soon re- 
 covered his good-humour and whispered in my Ear, 
 that if Will Wimble were with us, and saw those two 
 Chairs, it would go hard but he would get a Tobacco- 
 Stopper out of one or t'other of them. 
 
 Sir Roger, in the next Place, laid his hand upon 
 Edward the Third's Sword, and leaning upon the 
 Pommel of it, gave us the whole History of the Black 
 Prince ; concluding, that, in Sir Richard Baker'' s 
 Opinion, Edward the Third was one of the greatest 
 Princes that ever sat upon the English Throne. 
 
 We were then shown Edward the Confessor's 
 Tomb ; upon which Sir Roger acquainted us, that he 
 was the first who touched for the Evil ; and afterwards 
 Henry the Fourth's, upon which he shook his Head, 
 and told us there was fine Reading in the Casualties of 
 that Reign. 
 
SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 147 
 
 Our Conductor then pointed to that Monument where 
 there is the Figure of one of our English Kings with- 
 out an Head ; and upon giving us to know, that the 
 Head, which was of beaten Silver, had been stolen 
 away several Years since : Some Whig, I'll warrant 
 you, says Sir Roger ; you ought to lock up your 
 Kings better ; they will carry off the Body too, if you 
 don't take care. 
 
 The glorious Names of Henry the Fifth and Queen 
 Elizabeth gave the Knight great Opportunities of 
 shining and of doing Justice to Sir Richard Baker, 
 who, as our Knight observed with some Surprise, had 
 a great many Kings in him, whose Monuments he had 
 not seen in the Abbey. 
 
 For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see 
 the Knight show such an honest Passion for the Glory 
 of his Country, and such a respectful Gratitude to the 
 Memory of its Princes. 
 
 I must not omit, that the Benevolence of my good 
 old Friend, which flows out towards every one he 
 converses with, made him very kind to our Interpreter, 
 whom he looked upon as an extraordinary Man ; for 
 which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, 
 telling him, that he should be very glad to see him 
 at his Lodgings in Norfolk- Buildijigs, and talk over 
 these Matters with him more at leisure. 
 
CHAPTER, XXIII. 
 
 Sir Roger at the Playhouse. 
 
 Respicere exemplar vitcB morumque jubebo 
 Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces. 
 
 HOR. 
 
 \/rY Friend Sir Roger de Coverley, when we last 
 ■^'-^ met together at the Club, told me that he had a 
 great Mind to see the new Tragedy with me, assuring 
 me, at the same Time, that he had not been at a Play 
 these twenty Years. The last I saw, said Sir Roger, 
 was the Committee, which I should not have gone to 
 neither, had not I been told before-hand that it was 
 a good Churc\\-of- Engl and Comedy. He then pro- 
 ceeded to inquire of me who this distressed Mother 
 was ; and upon hearing that she was Hector''s Widow, 
 he told me that her Husband was a brave Man, and 
 that when he was a School-boy, he had read his Life 
 at the End of the Dictionary. My Friend asked me 
 in the next Place, if there would not be some Danger 
 in coming Home late, in case the Mohocks should be 
 
SIR ROGER AT THE TLAYHOUSE. 149 
 
 abroad. I assure you, says he, I thought I had fallen 
 into their Hands last Night ; for I observed two or 
 three lusty black Men that followed me half way up 
 Fleet-street, and mended their pace behind me, in 
 proportion as I put on to get away from them. You 
 must know, continued the Knight with a Smile, I 
 fancied they had a mind to hunt me ; for I remember 
 an honest Gentleman in my Neighbourhood, who was 
 served such a trick in King Charles the Second's 
 time ; for which reason he has not ventured himself 
 in Town ever since. I might have shown them very 
 good Sport, had this been their Design ; for as I am 
 an old Fox-hunter, I should have turned and dodged, 
 and have played them a thousand Tricks they had 
 never seen in their Lives before. Sir Roger added, 
 that if these Gentlemen had any such Intention, they 
 did not succeed very well in it : for I threw them out, 
 says he, at the End of Norfolk-street, where I doubled 
 the Corner and got Shelter in my Lodgings before 
 they could imagine what was become of me. How- 
 ever, says the Knight, if Captain Sentry will make 
 one with us to-morrow Night, and if you will both of 
 you call upon me about four o'Clock, that we may be 
 at the House before it is full, I will have my own 
 Coach in readiness to attend you, for John tells me he 
 has got the Fore-Wheels mended. 
 
150 SIR ROGER AT THE PLAYHOUSE. 
 
 The Captain, who did not fail to meet me there at 
 the appointed Hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for 
 that he had put on the same Sword which he made 
 use of at the Battle of Steenkirk. Sir Roger's Ser- 
 vants, and among the rest my old Friend the Butler, 
 had, I found, provided themselves with good oaken 
 Plants, to attend their Master upon this occasion. 
 When we had placed him in his Coach, with myself 
 at his left-hand, the Captain before him, and his Butler 
 at the Head of his Footmen in the Rear, we convoyed 
 him in Safety to the Playhouse, where, after having 
 marched up the Entry in good order, the Captain and 
 I went in with him, and seated him betwixt us in the 
 Pit. As soon as the House was full, and the Candles 
 lighted, my old Friend stood up and looked about 
 him with that Pleasure, which a Mind seasoned with 
 Humanity naturally feels in itself, at the sight of a 
 Multitude of People who seem pleased with one ano- 
 ther, and partake of the same common Entertainment. 
 I could not but fancy to myself, as the old Man stood 
 up in the middle of the Pit, that he made a very 
 proper Centre to a tragic Audience. Upon the entring 
 of Pyrrhus^ the Knight told me that he did not believe 
 the King of France himself had a better Strut. I was 
 indeed very attentive to my old Friend's Remarks, 
 because I looked upon them as a Piece of natural 
 
 1 
 
SIR ROGER AT THE PLAYHOUSE. 151 
 
 Criticism, and was well pleased to hear him, at the 
 Conclusion of almost every Scene, telling me that he 
 could not imagine how the Play would end. One 
 while he appeared much concerned for Andromache ; 
 and a little while after as much for Hermione ; and 
 was extremely puzzled to think what would become of 
 Pyrrhus. 
 
 When Sir Roger saw Andromache's obstinate Re- 
 fusal to her Lover's Importunities, he whispered me in 
 the Ear, that he was sure she would never have him ; 
 to which he added, with a more than ordinary Vehe- 
 mence, You can"'t imagine. Sir, what 'tis to have to do 
 with a Widow. Upon Pyrrhus his threatning after- 
 wards to leave her, the Knight shook his Head and 
 muttered to himself, Ay, do if you can. This Part 
 dwelt so much upon my Friend's Imagination, that at 
 the close of the Third Act, as I was thinking of some- 
 thing else, he whispered me in my Ear, These Widows, 
 Sir, are the most perverse Creatures in the World. 
 But pray, says he, you that are a Critick, is the Play 
 according to your Dramatic Rules, as you call them ? 
 Should your People in Tragedy always talk to be 
 understood ? Why, there is not a single Sentence in 
 this Play that I do not know the meaning of. 
 
 The Fourth Act very luckily begun before I had 
 time to give the old Gentleman an Answer : Well, 
 
152 SIR ROGER AT THE PLAYHOUSE. 
 
 says the Knight, sitting down with great Satisfaction, I 
 suppose we are now to see Hector'^s Ghost. He then 
 renewed his Attention, and, from time to time, fell a 
 praising the Widow. He made, indeed, a litde Mis- 
 take as to one of her Pages, whom at his first entering 
 he took for Astyanax ; but quickly set himself right in 
 that particular, though, at the same time, he owned he 
 should have been very glad to have seen the little 
 Boy, who, says he, must needs be a very fine Child 
 by the Account that is given of him. Upon Hermi- 
 one^s going off with a Menace to Pyrrhus, the Audi- 
 ence gave a loud Clap, to which Sir Roger added, on 
 my Word, a notable young Baggage ! 
 
 As there was a very remarkable Silence and Still- 
 ness in the Audience during the whole Action, it was 
 natural for them to take the Opportunity of these 
 Intervals between the Acts, to express their Opinion 
 of the Players and of their respective Parts. Sir 
 Roger hearing a Cluster of them praise Orestes, 
 struck in with them, and told them, that he thought his 
 Friend Pylades was a very sensible Man ; as they were 
 afterwards applauding Pyrrhus Sir Roger put in a 
 second time : And let me tell you, says he, though he 
 speaks but little, I like the old Fellow in Whiskers as 
 well as any of them. Captain Sentry seeing two or 
 three Wags, who sat near us, lean with an attentive 
 
SIR ROGER AT THE PLAYHOUSE. 153 
 
 Ear towards Sir Roger, and fearing lest they should 
 smoke the Knight, plucked him by the Elbow, and 
 whispered something in his Ear, that lasted till the 
 Opening of the fifth Act. The Knight was wonder- 
 fully attentive to the Account which Orestes gives of 
 Pyrrhus his Death, and at the Conclusion of it, told 
 me it was such a bloody Piece of Work, that he was 
 glad it was not done upon the Stage. Seeing after- 
 ward Orestes in his raving Fit, he grew more than 
 ordinary serious, and took occasion to moralize (in his 
 way) upon an Evil Conscience, adding, that Orestes^ 
 in his Madness, looked as if he saw something. 
 
 As we were the first that came into the House, so 
 we were the last that vv^ent out of it ; being resolved to 
 have a clear Passage for our old Friend, whom we did 
 not care to venture among the justling of the Crowd. 
 Sir Roger went out fully satisfied with his Entertain- 
 ment, and we guarded him to his Lodging in the same 
 manner that we brought him to the Playhouse ; being 
 highly pleased, for my own part, not only with the 
 Performance of the excellent Piece which had been 
 presented, but with the Satisfaction which it had given 
 to the old Man. 
 
CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 Sir Roger at Vaux-Hall. 
 Criminibus debent Hortos Juv. 
 
 A S I was sitting in my Chamber and thinking on a 
 -^^ Subject for my next Spectator, I heard two or 
 three irregular Bounces at my Landlady's Door, and 
 upon the opening of it, a loud chearful Voice inquiring 
 whether the Philosopher was at Home. The Child 
 who went to the Door answered very innocently, that 
 he did not lodge there. I immediately recollected that 
 it was my good Friend Sir Roger's Voice ; and that I 
 had promised to go with him on the Water to Spring- 
 Garden, in case it proved a good Evening. The 
 Knight put me in mind of my Promise from the 
 bottom of the Stair-Case, but told me that if 1 was 
 speculating he would stay below till I had done. Upon 
 my coming down, I found all the Children of the 
 Family got about my old Friend, and my Landlady 
 herself, who is a notable prating Gossip, engaged in a 
 
SIR ROGER AT VAUX-HALL. 155 
 
 Conference with him ; being mightily pleased with his 
 stroking her little Boy upon the Head, and bidding him 
 be a good Child, and mind his Book. 
 
 We were no sooner come to the TempIeSimvs, but 
 we were surrounded with a Crowd of Watermen, 
 offering us their respective Services. Sir Roger after 
 having looked about him very attentively, spied one 
 with a Wooden Leg, and immediately gave him Orders 
 to get his Boat ready. As we were walking towards 
 it. You must know^ says Sir Roger, I never make use 
 of any body to row me, that has not either lost a Leg 
 or an Arm. I would rather hate him a few Strokes of 
 his Oar than not employ an honest Man that has been 
 wounded in the Queen^s Service. If I was a Lord or 
 a Bishop, and kept a Barge, I would not put a Fellow 
 in my Livery that had not a Wooden Leg, 
 
 My old Friend, after having seated himself, and 
 trimmed the Boat with his Coachman, who, being a 
 very sober Man, always serves for Ballast on these 
 Occasions, we made the best of our Ways for Vaux- 
 Hall. Sir Roger obliged the Waterman to give us 
 the History of his right Leg, and hearing that he had 
 left it at La Hogue, with many Particulars which 
 passed in that glorious Action, the Knight in the 
 Triumph of his Heart made several Reflexions on the 
 Greatness of the British Nation ; as, that one English- 
 
156 SIR ROGER AT VAUX-HALL. 
 
 man could beat three FrencJwien ; that we could never 
 be in danger of Popery so long as we took care of our 
 Fleet ; that the Thames was the noblest River in 
 Europe ; that London- Bridge was a greater piece of 
 Work, than any of the seven Wonders of the World ; 
 with many other honest Prejudices which naturally 
 cleave to the Heart of a true Englishman. 
 
 After some short Pause, the old Knight turning about 
 his Head twice or thrice, to take a Survey of this great 
 Metropolis, bid me observe how thick the City was set 
 with Churches, and that there was scarce a single 
 Steeple on this side Temple-Bar. A most Heathenish 
 Sight ! says Sir Roger : There is no Religion at this 
 End of the Town. The fifty new Churches loill very 
 much mend the Prospect ; hut Church-work is slow, 
 Church-work is slow ! 
 
 I do not remember I have any where mentioned, in 
 Sir Roger's Character, his Custom of saluting every 
 body that passes by him with a Good-morrow, or a 
 Good-nijTht. This the old Man does out of the over- 
 flowings of his Humanity, though at the same time it 
 renders him so popular among all his Country Neigh- 
 bours, that it is thought to have gone a good way in 
 making him once or twice Knight of the Shire. He 
 cannot forbear this Exercise of Benevolence even in 
 Town, when he meets with any one in his morning or 
 
SIU ROGER AT VAI7X-HALL. 157 
 
 eveninr; Walk. It broke from him to several Boats 
 that passed by us upon the Water ; but to the Knight's 
 great Surprise, as he gave the Good-night to two or 
 three young Fellows a little before our landing, one of 
 them, instead of returning the Civility, asked us, what 
 queer old Put we had in the Boat, with a great deal of 
 the like Thames-'RihaLldYy. Sir Roger seemed a little 
 shocked at first, but at length assuming a Face of 
 Magistracy, told us. That if he were a Middlesex Jus- 
 tice, he icould make such Vagrants know that her 
 Majesty''s Subjects were no more to be abused by Water 
 than by Land. 
 
 We were now arrived at Spring- Garden, which is 
 exquisitely pleasant at this time of the Year. When 
 I considered the Fragrancy of the Walks and Bowers, 
 with the Choirs of Birds that sung upon the Trees, and 
 the loose Tribe of People that walked under their 
 Shades, I could not but look upon the Place as a kind 
 of Mahometan Paradise. Sir Roger told me it put 
 him in mind of a little Coppice by his House in the 
 Country, which his Chaplain used to call an Aviary of 
 Nightingales. You must understand, says the Knight, 
 there is nothing in the World that pleases a Man in 
 Love so much as your Nightingale. Ah, Mr. Specta- 
 tor ! the many Moon-light Nights that I have walked 
 by myself, and thought on the Widow by the Musick of 
 
15S SIR ROGER AT VAUX-HALL. 
 
 the Nightingale ! He here fetched a deep Sigh, and 
 was falling into a Fit of musing, when a Mask, who 
 came behind him, gave him a gentle Tap upon the 
 Shoulder, and asked him if he would drink a Bottle of 
 Mead with her ? But the Knight being startled at so 
 unexpected a Familiarity, and displeased to be inter- 
 rupted in his Thoughts of the Widow, told her. She 
 ivas a wanton Baggage, and bid her go about her 
 Business. 
 
 We concluded our Walk with a Glass of Burton- 
 Ale, and a Slice of Hung-Beef. When we had done 
 eating ourselves, the Knight called a Waiter to him, 
 and bid him carry the Remainder to the Waterman 
 that had but one Leg. I perceived the Fellow stared 
 upon him at the oddness of the Message, and was 
 going to be saucy ; upon which I ratified the Knight's 
 Commands with a peremptory Look. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Sir Roger, the Widow, Will Honeycomb, and 
 Milton. 
 
 Torva leana Ivpum sequitur, lupus ipse capellam ; 
 Florentem cytisiim sequitur lasciva capella. Yirg. 
 
 A S we were at the Club last Night, I observed my 
 -^-^ Friend Sir Roger, contrary to his usual Custom, 
 sat very silent, and instead of minding what was said 
 by the Company, was whistling to himself in a very 
 thoughtful Mood, and playing with a Cork. I jogged 
 Sir Andrew Freeport who sat between us ; and as 
 we were both observing him, we saw the Knight shake 
 his Head, and heard him say, to himself, A foolish 
 Woman ! I canH believe it. Sir Andrew gave him a 
 gentle pat upon the Shoulder, and offered to lay him 
 a Bottle of Wine that he was thinking of the Widow. 
 My old Frield started, and recovering out of his brown 
 Study, told Sir Andrew that once in his Life he had 
 been in the right. In short, after some little Hesitation, 
 Sir Roger told us in the Fulness of his Heart that he 
 
160 SIR ROGER, THE WIDOW, 
 
 had just received a Letter from his Steward, which 
 acquainted him that his old Rival and Antagonist in 
 the Country, Sir David Dundrum, had been making a 
 Visit to the Widow. However, says Sir Roger, I can 
 never think that she'll have a Man that's half a Year 
 older than I am, and a noted Republican into the 
 bargain. 
 
 Will HoNEycoMB, who looks upon Love as his 
 particular Province, interrupting our Friend with a 
 jaunty Laugh ; I thought. Knight, says he, thou hadst 
 lived long enough in the World, not to pin thy Happi- 
 ness upon one that is a Woman and a Widow. I 
 think that without Vanity I may pretend to know as 
 much of the Female World as any Man in Great 
 Britain, though the chief of my Knowledge consists 
 in this, that they are not to be known. Will imme- 
 diately, with his usual Fluency, rambled into an Ac- 
 count of his own Amours. I am now, says he, upon 
 the Verge of Fifty, (though by the way we all knew 
 he was turned of Threescore ) You may easily 
 guess, continued Will, that I have not lived so long in 
 the World without having had some Thoughts of 
 settling in it, as the Phrase is. To tell you truly, I 
 have several times tried my Fortune that wa}^, though 
 I can't much boast of my Success. 
 
 I made my first Addresses to a young Lady in the 
 
WILL HONEYCOMB, AND MILTON. 161 
 
 Country ; but when I thought things were pretty well 
 drawing to a Conclusion, her Father happening to hear 
 that I had formerly boarded with a Surgeon, the old 
 Put forbid me his House, and within a Fortnight after 
 married his Daughter to a Fox-hunter in the Neigh- 
 bourhood. 
 
 I made my next Application to a Widow, and at- 
 tacked her so briskly, that I thought myself within a 
 Fortnight of her. As I waited upon her one Morning, 
 she told me, that she intended to keep her Ready 
 Money and Jointure in her own Hand, and desired me 
 to call upon her Attorney in Lions-Inn, who would 
 adjust with me what it was proper for me to add to it. 
 I was so rebuffed by this Overture, that I never inquired 
 either for her or her Attorney afterwards. 
 
 A few Months after I addressed myself to a young 
 Lady who was an only Daughter, and of a good 
 Family : I danced with her at several Balls, squeezed 
 her by the Hand, said soft things to her, and in short 
 made no doubt of her Heart ; and tho' my Fortune 
 was not equal to hers, I was in hopes that her fond 
 Father would not deny her the Man she had fixed her 
 Affections upon. But as I went one Day to the House 
 in order to break the matter to him, I found the whole 
 Family in Confusion, and heard to my unspeakable 
 11 
 
162 SIR ROGER, THE WIDOW, 
 
 Surprise, that Miss Jenny was that very Morning run 
 away with the Butler. 
 
 I then courted a second Widow, and am at a loss to 
 this Day how I came to miss her, for she had often 
 commended my Person and Behaviour. Her Maid 
 indeed told me one Day, that her Mistress had said she 
 never saw a Gentleman with such a spindle Pair of 
 Legs as Mr. Honeycomb. 
 
 After this I laid Siege to four Heiresses successively, 
 and being a handsom young Dog in those Days, quickly 
 made a Breach in their Hearts ; but I don't know how 
 it came to pass, though I seldom failed of getting the 
 Daughters' Consent, I could never in my Life get the 
 old People on my side. 
 
 I could give you an Account of a thousand other 
 unsuccessful Attempts, particularly of one which I 
 made some Years since upon an old Woman, whom I 
 had certainly born away with flying Colours, if her 
 Relations had not come pouring in to her Assistance 
 from all Parts of England ; nay, I believe I should 
 have got her at last, had not she been carried off by a 
 hard Frost. 
 
 As Will's Transitions are extremely quick, he 
 turned from Sir Roger, and applying himself to me, 
 told me there was a Passage in the Book I had con- 
 sidered last Saturday^ which deserved to be writ in 
 
WILL HONEYCOMB, AND MILTON. 163 
 
 Letters of Gold ; and taking out a PockeX- Milton, read 
 the following Lines, which are part of one of AdanCs 
 Speeches to Eve after the Fall. 
 
 ' Oh ! why did God, 
 Creator wise ! that peopled highest Heaven 
 With Spirits masculine, create at last 
 This Novelty on Earth, this fair Defect 
 Of Nature ? and 7iot fill the World at oyice 
 With Men, as Angels, without Feminine ? 
 Or find some other way to generate 
 Mankind ? This Mischief had riot then hefalVn, 
 And more that shall befall, innumerable 
 Disturbances on Earth through Female Snares, 
 And strait Conjunction with this Sex : for either 
 He never shall find out fit Mate ; but such 
 As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; 
 Or, whom he wishes most, shall seldom gain 
 Through her perverseness ; but shall see her gain'd 
 By afar worse : or if she love, withheld 
 By Parents ; or his happiest Choice too late 
 Shall meet already linked, and Wedlock-bound 
 To a fell Adversary, his Hate or Shame ; 
 Which infinite Calamity shall cause 
 To human Life, and Houshold Peace confound.^ 
 
 Sir Roger listened to this Passage with great At- 
 tention, and desiring Mr. Honeycomb to fold down a 
 Leaf at the Place, and lend him his Book, the Knight 
 put it up in his Pocket, and told us that he would read 
 over those Verses again before he went to Bed. 
 
CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 Sir Roger passeth away. 
 Heu Fietas ! heu prisca Fides ! Virg. 
 
 TTTE last Night received a Piece of ill News at our 
 ' Club, which very sensibly afflicted every one of 
 us. I question not but my Readers themselves will be 
 troubled at the hearing of it. To keep them no longer 
 in suspense, Sir Roger de Coverley is dead. He 
 departed this Life at his Flouse in the Country, after a 
 few Weeks' Sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a 
 Letter from one of his Correspondents in those Parts, 
 that informs him the old Man caught a Cold at the 
 County-Sessions, as he was very warmly promoting 
 an Address of his own penning, in which he suc- 
 ceeded according to his Wishes. But this Particular 
 comes from a Whig Justice of Peace, who was always 
 Sir Roger's Enemy and Antagonist. I have Letters 
 both from the Chaplain and Captain Sentry which 
 mention nothing of it, but are filled with many Partic- 
 ulars to the honour of the good old Man. I have 
 likewise a letter from the Butler, who took so much 
 
SIR ROGER PASSETH AWAY. 165 
 
 care of me last Summer when I was at the Knight's 
 House. As my Friend the Butler mentions, in the 
 Simplicity of his Heart, several Circumstances the 
 others have passed over in silence, I shall give my 
 Reader a Copy of his Letter, without any Alteration 
 or Diminution. 
 
 ' Honoured Sir^ 
 ITNOWING that you was my old Master's good 
 -'-^ Friend, I could not forbear sending you the 
 melancholy News of his Death, which has afflicted 
 the whole Country, as well as his poor Servants, who 
 loved him, I may say, better than we did our Lives. 
 I am afraid he caught his Death the last County- 
 Sessions, where he would go to see Justice done to a 
 poor Widow Woman, and her Fatherless Children, 
 that had been wronged by a neighbouring Gentle- 
 men ; for you know. Sir, my good Master was al- 
 ways the poor Man's Friend. Upon his coming 
 home, the first Complaint he made was, that he had 
 lost his Rost-Beef Stomach, not being able to touch a 
 Sirloin, which was served up according to custom ; 
 and you know he used to take great delight in it. 
 From that time forward he grew worse and worse, 
 but still kept a good Heart to the last. Indeed we 
 were once in great hope of his Recovery, upon a 
 
166 SIR ROGER PASSETH AWAY. 
 
 ' kind Message that was sent him from the Widow 
 ' Lady whom he had made love to the forty last Years 
 ' of his Life ; but this only proved a Lightning before 
 ' Death. He has bequeathed to this Lady, as a token 
 ' of his Love, a great Pearl Necklace, and a Couple 
 ' of Silver Bracelets set with Jewels, which belonged 
 ' to my good old Lady his Mother : He has bequeathed 
 ' the fine white Gelding, that he used to ride a hunting 
 ' upon, to his Chaplain, because he thought he would 
 ' be kind to him, and has left you all his Books. He 
 ' has, moreover, bequeathed to the Chaplain a very 
 ' pretty Tenement with good Lands about it. It being 
 ' a very cold Day when he made his Will, he left for 
 ' Mourning, to every Man in the Parish, a great Prize 
 ' Coat, and to every Woman a black Riding-hood. It 
 ' was a most moving sight to see him take leave of his 
 ' poor Servants, commending us all for our Fidelity, 
 ' whilst we were not able to speak a word for weep- 
 ' ing. As we most of us are grown gray-headed in 
 
 * our dear Master's Service, he has left us Pensions 
 ' and Legacies, which we may live very comfortably 
 
 * upon, the remaining part of our Days. He has 
 ' bequeathed a great deal more in Charity, which is 
 ' not yet come to my Knowledge, and it is perempto- 
 ' rily said in the Parish, that he has left Money to build 
 ' a Steeple to the Church ; for he was heard to say 
 
SIR ROGER PASSETH AWAY. 167 
 
 ' some time ago, that if he lived two Years longer, 
 ' Coverley Church should have a Steeple to it. The 
 ' Chaplain tells every Body that he made a very good 
 ' End, and never speaks of him without Tears. He 
 ' was buried according to his own Directions, among 
 Hhe Family of the Coverlets, on the Left Hand 
 ' of his Father Sir Arthur. The Coffin was carried 
 ' by six of his Tenants, and the Pall held up by sLx of 
 ' the Quorum : The whole Parish followed the Corps 
 ' with heavy Hearts, and in their Mourning Suits, the 
 ' Men in Frize, and the Women in Riding-hoods. 
 ' Captain Sentry, my Master's Nephew, has taken 
 ' possession of the Hall-House, and the whole Estate. 
 ' When my old Master saw him a litde before his 
 ' Death, he shook him by the Hand, and wished him 
 ' Joy of the Estate which was falling to him, desiring 
 ' him only to make a good Use of it, and to pay the 
 ' several Legacies and the Gifts of Charity which he 
 ' told him he had left as Quit-rents upon the Estate. 
 ' The Captain truly seems a courteous Man, though he 
 ' says but little. He makes much of those whom my 
 ' Master loved, and shows great Kindnesses to the old 
 ' House-dog, that you know my poor Master was so 
 ' fond of. It would have gone to your Heart to have 
 ' heard the Moans the dumb Creature made on the Day 
 ' of my Master's Death. He has never joyed himself 
 
168 SIR ROGER PASSETH AWAY. 
 
 * since ; no more has any of us. 'Twas the melan- 
 ' choliest Day for the poor People that ever happened 
 ' in Worcestershire. This is all from, 
 
 ' Honoured Sir, 
 ' Your most sorrowful Servant, 
 
 ' Edward Biscuit.' 
 
 P. S. ' My Master desired, some Weeks before he 
 ' died, that a Book which comes up to you by the 
 ' Carrier should be given to Sir Andrew Freeport, in 
 ' his Name.' 
 
 This Letter, notwithstanding the poor Butler's man- 
 ner of writing it, gave us such an Idea of our good 
 old Friend, that upon the reading of it there was not a 
 dry Eye in the Club. Sir Andrew opening the Book, 
 found it to be a Collection of Acts of Parliament. 
 There was in particular the Act of Uniformity, with 
 some Passages in it marked by Sir Roger's own Hand. 
 Sir Andrew found that they related to two or three 
 Points, which he had disputed with Sir Roger the last 
 time he appeared at the Club. Sir Andrew, who 
 would have been merry at such an Incident on another 
 Occasion, at the sight of the old Man's Hand-writing 
 burst into Tears, and put the Book into his Pocket. 
 Captain Sentry informs us, that the Knight has left 
 Rings and Mourning for every one in the Club. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Author's Preface. Page i. 
 
 FROM the Spectator, No. i, dated March 1, 1711-12. 
 By Addison. 
 
 Page 3. 1 made a Voyage to Grand Cairo, on purpose to 
 take Measure of the Pyramid. A half century's contention 
 respecting the exact admeasurement of the Great Pyramid of 
 Gizeh was a fair subject for ridicule in spite of Dr. Percy's 
 stigma that the satire was ' reprehensible.' Mr. John 
 Greaves originated the argument so long before the publica- 
 tion of this harmless raillery as 1646, in his Work entitled 
 ' Pyramidologia,' and it seems to have been carried on with 
 burning zeal and wonderful learning to the days of the 
 Spectator, although death had removed Greaves from the dis- 
 cussion in 1652. In No. 7 the Spectator says, ' I design to 
 visit the next masquerade in the same Habit I wore at Grand 
 Cairo.' 
 
 Page 4. The Coffee-Houses. There is no Place of gen- 
 eral Resort wherein I do not make my Appearance. The 
 chief places of resort were coffee and chocolate houses, in 
 which some men almost lived, insomuch that whoever wished 
 
172 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 to find a gentleman commonly asked, not where he resided, 
 but which coffee-house he frequented ? No decently attired 
 idler was excluded, provided he laid down his penny at the 
 bar ; but which he could seldom do without struggling 
 through the crowd of beaux who fluttered round the lovely 
 bar-maid. Here the proud nobleman or country squire were 
 not to be distinguished from the genteel thief and daring 
 highwayman. ' Pray Sir,' says Aimwell to Gibbet, in Far- 
 quhar's Beaux Stratagem, ' han't I seen your face at WiWs 
 coffee-house 1 ' The robber's reply is : — ' Yes, Sir ; and 
 at White's too.' 
 
 Coffee-houses, from the time of their commencement in 
 1652, served instead of newspapers: — they were arencB for 
 political discussion. Journalism was then in its infancy : the 
 first daily newspaper ( The Daily Courant) was scarcely two 
 years old, and was too small to contain much news ; as were 
 the other journals then extant. Hence the fiercely contested 
 polemics of the period were either waged in single pamphlets 
 or in periodicals started to advocate or oppose some par- 
 ticular question, and laid down when that was settled. The 
 peaceful leading article and mild letter ' to the Editor ' 
 had not come into vogue as safety valves for the escape of 
 overboiling party zeal ; and the hot blood, roused in public 
 rooms to quarrelling pitch, was too often cooled by the 
 rapier's point. 
 
 Each coffee-house had its political or literary speciality ; 
 and of those enumerated in the present paper, Will's was 
 the rendezvous for the wits and poets. It was named after 
 William Urwin, its proprietor, and was situated at No. 1, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTKATIONS. 173 
 
 Bow Street, at the corner of Great Russell Street, Covent 
 Garden ; the coffee-room was on the first floor, the lower part 
 having been occupied as a retail shop. Dryden's patronage 
 and frequent appearance made the reputation of the house, 
 which was afterwards maintained by other celebrated charac- 
 ters, De Foe wrote — about the year 1720 — that 'after 
 the play the best company go to Toin's or WiWs coffee- 
 house near adjoining ; where there is playing picquet and the 
 best conversation till midnight. Here you will see blue 
 and green ribbons and stars familiarly, and talking with the 
 same freedom, as if they had left their quality and degrees 
 of distance at home.' The turn of conversation is happily 
 hit off in the Spectator for June 12th, 1712, when a false 
 report of the death of Louis XIV. had reached England : — 
 ' Upon my going into WiWs I found their discourse was 
 gone off from the death of the French king to that of Mon- 
 sieur Boileau, Racine, Corneille, and several other poets, 
 whom they regretted on this occasion, as persons who would 
 have obliged the world with very noble elegies on the death 
 of so great a prince, and so eminent a patron of learning.' 
 It was from WilVs coffee-house that the Taller dated his 
 poetry. 
 
 Child's was in St. Paul's Churchyard. Its vicinity to the 
 Cathedral and Doctor's Commons, made it the resort of the 
 clergy and other ecclesiastical loungers. In one respect 
 Child's was superseded by the Chapter in Paternoster Row. 
 
 The St. James's was the Spectator's head-quarters. It 
 stood at the end of Pall Mall — of which it commanded a 
 perspective view — near to, if not upon the site of what is 
 
174 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 now No. 87, St. James's Street, and close to Ozinda's choc- 
 olate-house. These were the great party rallying places : 
 ' a Whig,' says De Foe, ' would no more go to the Cocoa 
 Tree or Ozindas than a Tory would be seen at St. Jameses. ^ 
 Swift, however, frequented the latter during his sojourn in 
 London, 1710-13; till, fighting in the van of the Tory 
 ranks, he could no longer show face there, and was obliged to 
 relinquish the society of those literary friends whom, though 
 Whigs, he cherished. Up to that time all his letters were 
 addressed to the St. Jameses coffee-house, and those from 
 Mrs. Johnston (Stella) were enclosed under cover to Addi- 
 son. Elliot, who kept the house, acted confidentially for his 
 customers as a party agent ; and was on occasions placed on 
 a friendly footing with some of his distinguished guests. In 
 Swift's Journal to Stella, under the date of Nov. 19, 1710, 
 we find the following entry : — ' This evening I christened 
 our coffee-man Elliot's child ; when the rogue had a most 
 noble supper, and Steele and I sat amongst some scurvy 
 company over a bowl of punch.' This must have included 
 some of Elliot's more intimate or private friends ; for he 
 numbered amongst his customers nearly all the Whig aristoc- 
 racy. The Taller, (who dated his politics from the ^S*^. 
 Jam"s''s,) enum^^rating the charges he was at to entertain his 
 readers, assures them that ' a good observer cannot even 
 speak with Kidney [" keeper of the book debts of the out- 
 lying customers, and observer of all those who go off without 
 paying,"*] without clean linen.' 
 
 * Spectator, No. 24. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 175 
 
 The Spectator, in his 403rd number, gives a graphic pic- 
 ture of the company in the coffee-room : — 'I first of all 
 called in at St. James''s where I found the whole outward 
 room in a buzz of politics. The speculations were but very 
 indifferent towards the door, but grew finer as you advanced 
 to the upper end of the room, and were so very much im- 
 proved by a knot of theorists, who sat in the inner room, 
 within the steams of the coffee-pot, that I there heard the 
 whole Spanish monarchy disposed of, and all the line of 
 Bourbon provided for, in less than a quarter of an hour.' 
 
 The Grecian in Devereux Court derived its name from a 
 Greek named Constantino, who introduced a new and im- 
 proved method of making coffee, from the land of Epicurus. 
 Perhaps from this cause, or from having set up his apparatus 
 close to the Temple, he drew the Learned to his rooms. 
 ' All accounts of Learning,' saith the Taller, ' shall be under 
 the Title of the Grecian.^ The alumni appear to have dis- 
 puted at a particular table. ' I cannot keep an ingenious 
 Man,' continues Bickerstaff, ' to go daily to the Grecian 
 without allowing him some plain Spanish to be as able as 
 others at the learned Table.' The glory of the Grecian out- 
 lasted that of the rest, and it remained a tavern till 1843. 
 
 Jonathan's, in Change Alley, the general mart for stock- 
 jobbers, was the precursor of the present Stock Exchange in 
 Capel Court. The hero of Mrs. Centlivre's comedy, ' A 
 Bold Stroke for a Wife^' performs at Jonathan's his most 
 successful deception on the city guardian of his mistress. 
 
 The other coffee-houses will be noticed as they occur in 
 the text. 
 
176 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Page 6. Jt is laid and concerted {as all other Matters of 
 Importance are) in, a Club. The word Club as applied to 
 convivial meetings, is derived from the Saxon deaf an, to 
 divide, ' because,' says Skinner, ' the expenses are divided 
 into shares or portions.' 
 
 Clubs were more general in the days of the Spectator than 
 perhaps at any other period of our history. Throughout the 
 previous half century public discord had dissevered private 
 society ; and, at the Restoration, men yearned for fellowship ; 
 but as, even yet, political danger lurked under an unguarded 
 expression or a rash toast, companions could not be too care- 
 fully chosen. Persons therefore whose political opinions and 
 private tastes coincided, made a practice of meeting in clubs. 
 This principle of congeniality took all manner of odd turns, 
 but the political clubs of the time played an important part in 
 history. 
 
 The idea of uniting the authors of a periodical in a club — 
 though an obvious one — was calculated to bring out spark- 
 ling contrasts of character. But it was not successfully 
 elaborated. Each personage was greatly dissociated from the 
 club in future papers. Hence the faults some critics have 
 found with the character of Sir Roger ; for, taken in connec- 
 tion with the society, it has not the coherence it would have 
 had, if the club scheme had been efficiently developed. But 
 viewed separately, what — as the reader of these pages will 
 own — can be more harmonious or natural ? 
 
 The eccentric clubs were fruitful sources of satire to the 
 Spectator. He is merry on the Mummers'' , the Two-penny , 
 the Ugly, the Fighting, the Fringe-Glove, the Hum-drum, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 177 
 
 the Doldrum, the Everlasting, and the Lovers'' clubs ; on 
 clubs of fat men, of tall men, of one-eyed men, and of men 
 who lived in the same street. This last was a social arrange- 
 ment, almost necessary at a time when distant visits were 
 impossible at night, not only from the bad condition of the 
 streets, but from the ravages of the dastardly ' Mohock Club,' 
 of which hereafter. 
 
 Page 6. Those who have a mind to correspond with me may 
 direct their Letters to the Spectator at Mr. Bucklei/^s. 
 
 ' This day is published 
 A paper entitled The Spectator, which will be continued 
 every day. Printed for Sam. Buckley at the Dolphin, in 
 Little Britain, and sold by A. Baldwin, in Warwick Lane.' 
 
 Daily Courant, March 1st, 1711. 
 
 The above names form the imprint to the Spectator's early 
 papers. From No. 18 appears, in addition, ' Charles Lillie 
 [perfumer, bookseller and secretary to the Tatlcr's " Court 
 of Honour"] at the corner of Beaufort buildings in the 
 Strand.' From the date, August 5th, 1712, (No. 449) Jacob 
 Tonson's imprint is appended. About that time he removed 
 from Gray's Lm Gate to ' the Strand, over against Catherine 
 Street.' 
 
 Samuel Buckley had eventually an innocent hand in the 
 discontinuance of the Spectator. He was the ' writer and 
 printer' of the first daily newspaper — The Daily Courant, 
 and having published on the 7th of April, 1712, a memorial 
 of the States General, reflecting on the English government, 
 12 
 
178 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 he was brought in custody to the bar of the House of Com- 
 mons. The upshot was some strong resolutions respecting 
 the licentiousness of the press (which had indeed been com- 
 mented on at the opening of parliament in the Queen's 
 Speech) and the imposition of the halfpenny stamp on period- 
 icals. To this addition to the price of the Spectator is 
 attributed its downfall. 
 
 Chap. I. Sir Roger and the Club. 
 
 No. 2. Friday, March 2, 1711-12. By Steele. 
 
 Page 9. The first of our Society is a Gentleman of 
 Worcestershire of ancient Descent, a Baronet, his Name is 
 Sir Roger de Coverley. Whenever any striking individu- 
 ality appears in print, the public love to suppose that, instead 
 of being the embodied representative of a class, it is an actual 
 portrait. A thousand conjectures were afloat as to the origi- 
 nal of Sir Roger de Coverley, at the time and long after the 
 Spectator's papers were in current circulation. These were 
 revived by a passage in the preface to Budgell's Theophrastus, 
 in which he asserted in general terms that most of the char- 
 acters in the Spectator were conspicuously known. It was 
 not however till 1783, when Tyers named Sir John Packing- 
 ton of West wood, Worcestershire, that any prototype to Sir 
 Roger was definitely pointed out. 
 
 Tyers's assertion is not tenable. Except that Sir Roger 
 and Sir John were both baronets and lived in Worcestershire, 
 each presents few points of similitude to the other : — Sir 
 Roger was a disappointed bachelor ; Sir John was twice 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 179 
 
 married: Sir Roger, although more than once returned 
 knight of the shire, was not an ardent politician ; Sir John 
 was, and sate for his native county in every parhament save 
 one from his majority till his death. Westwood House — 
 ' in the middle of a wood that is cut into twelve large ridings ; 
 the whole encompassed with a park of six or seven miles,' * 
 — bears no greater resemblance to the description of Coverley 
 Hall than the scores of Country houses which have wood 
 about them. Sir Roger is neither litigant nor lawyer, 
 despite the universal applause bestowed by the Quarter ses- 
 sion on his exposition of ' a passage in the game-act : ' Sir 
 John was a barrister, and besides having been Recorder for 
 the city of Worcester, proved himself so powerful a plain- 
 tiff, that he ousted the then Bishop of Worcester from his 
 place of Royal Almoner for interfering in the County elec- 
 tion. 
 
 The account of the Spectator and each member of his club 
 was most likely fictitious ; for the Tatler having been be- 
 trayed into personalities gave such grave offence, that Steele 
 determined not to fall again into a like error. Had indeed 
 the originals of Sir Roger and his club-companions existed 
 among, as Budgell asserts, the ' conspicuous ' characters of 
 the day, literary history would assuredly have revealed them. 
 But a better witness than Budgell testifies to the reverse. 
 The Spectator emphatically disclaims personality in various 
 passages : — In 262 he says, ' When I place an imaginary 
 Name at the Head of a Character, I examine every Syllable, 
 
 * Nash's Worcestershire. 
 
180 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 every Letter of it, that it may not bear any resemblance to 
 one that is Real: ' in another place, — ' I would not make 
 myself merry with a Piece of Pasteboard that is invested with 
 a Public Character.' 
 
 Page 9. ^25 Great Grandfather ivas Inventor of that 
 famous Country-Dance called after him. The real sponsor 
 to the joyous conclusion of every ball has only been recently 
 revealed after the most vigilant research. An autograph 
 account by Ralph Thoresby, of the family of Calverley of 
 Calverley in Yorkshire, dated 1717, and which is now in the 
 possession of Sir W. Calverley Trevelyan, states that the 
 tune of Roger a Calverley was named after Sir Roger of Cal- 
 verley, who lived in the time of Richard the Fiist. This 
 Knight, according to the custom of that period, kept min- 
 strels, who took the name from their office of harper. 
 Their descendants possessed lands in the neighbourhood of 
 Calverley, called Harpersroids and Harper^s Spring. * The 
 seal of this Sir Roger, appended to one of his charters, is 
 large, with a chevalier on horseback.' 
 
 The earliest printed copy of the tune which has yet been 
 traced is in 'a choice collection to a ground for a treble 
 violin,' by J. Playford, 1685. It appears again in 1695 in 
 H. Playford's ' Dancing Master.' Mr. Chappell, author of 
 the elaborate work on English Melodies, believes it to have 
 been a hornpipe. That it was popular about the Spectator's 
 time is shown from a passage in a Satirical history of Powel 
 the Puppet man (1715) : — ' Upon the preludes being ended 
 each party fell to bawling and calling for particular tunes. 
 The hobnailed fellows, whose breeches and lungs seemed to 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. l8l 
 
 be of the same leather, cry'd out for ' Cheshire Rounds,' 
 ^ Roger of Coverley,^ 'Joan's placket,' and 'Northern 
 Nancy.' 
 
 Steele owned that the notion of adapting the name to the 
 good genial old knight, originated with Swift. 
 
 Page 10. Wlien in Town he lives in Soho Square. Sir 
 Roger had doubtless chosen this fashionable locality in the 
 ' fine gentleman ' era of his career. We shall presently see, 
 that on his subsequent visits to Town he changed his lodg- 
 ings to humbler neighbourhoods. The splendour of Soho 
 Square was only dawning, when Foreign Princes were taken 
 to see Bloomsbury Square as one of the wonders of England. 
 In 1681, the former had no more than eight residences in it, 
 and the palace of the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth filled 
 up the entire South side. During Sir Roger's supposed resi- 
 dence in Soho (then also called King's) Square he had for a 
 neighbour Bishop Burnet. Only a few years later it lost 
 caste ; for by 1717 we find from Walpole's Anecdotes of 
 Painting that Monmouth House had been converted into 
 Auction Rooms. 
 
 Sir Roger changed his residence at each subsequent visit 
 to London. The Spectator in his 335th Number lodges him 
 in Norfolk Street, Strand, and in No. 410 in Bow Street, 
 Covent Garden. 
 
 Page 10. Kicked Bully Dawson. Dawson was a swag- 
 gering gentleman about Town, when Etheridge and Roches- 
 ter were in full vogue. One of the Manuscript notes, by 
 Oldys, upon the margins of the copy of Langbaine's account 
 
182 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 of the English Dramatic Poets, in the British Museum, men- 
 tions him thus : — 
 
 ' The character of Captain Hackman in this Comedy 
 [Shadwell's " Squire of Alsatia"] was drawn as I have been 
 told by old John Bowman the player, to expose Bully 
 Dawson, a noted sharper, swaggerer, and debauchee about 
 Town, especially in Blackfriars and its infamous purlieus.' 
 
 Page 12. He has his Shoes rubbed and his Periwig 
 powdered at the Barher^s as you go into the Rose. The Rose 
 stood at the end of a passage in Russell Street, adjoining the 
 theatre which then, be it remembered, faced Drury Lane. It 
 was here that on the 12th November 1712, the seconds on 
 either side arranged the duel fought the next day by the Duke 
 of Hamilton and Lord Mohun, in which both were killed. 
 
 Page 12. Sir Andrew Freeport. ' To Sir Roger who as a 
 country gentleman appears to be a Tory ; or, as it is generally 
 expressed, an adherent to the landed interest, is opposed Sir 
 Andrew Freeport, a new man and a wealthy merchant, 
 zealous for the money 'd interest, and a Whig. Of this con- 
 trariety of opinions more consequences were at first intended 
 than coald be produced when the resolution was taken to 
 exclude party from the paper.' Dr. Johnson's Life of 
 Addison. 
 
 No one has ventured to name originals either for the Tem- 
 plar or Sir Andrew Freeport. 
 
 Page 13. Captain Sentry. This character, heir to Sir 
 Roger, is said — with no more probability than attaches to 
 the imagined origin of the others — to have been copied from 
 Col. Kempenfeldt, father of the Admiral who was drowned 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 183 
 
 in the Royal George^ when it went down at Spithead in 1782. 
 The conjecture probably had no other foundation — a very 
 frail one — than a eulogium on the colonel's chaiacter in 
 Captain Sentry's letter to the club announcing his induction 
 into Sir Roger's estate, and which forms the last of the 
 Coverley papers. 
 
 Page 15. Will Honeycomb. Col. Cleland of the Life 
 Guards has been named as the real person here described : 
 but as in the former instances the supposition is ill supported. 
 
 Chap. II. Coverley Hall. 
 
 No. 106. Monday, July 2, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 2 1 . He was afraid of being insulted with Latin and 
 Greek at his own Table. The literary acquirements of the 
 Squirearchy of Sir Roger's era were few. At a time not 
 long antecedent, ' an esquire passed for a great scholar if 
 Hudibras, and Baker's Chronicle, Tarleton's Jests, and the 
 Seven Champions of Christendom lay in his hall window 
 among angling rods and fishing lines.' * But that Sir Roger 
 may appear in this, as in other respects, above the average of 
 his order, there is in Coverley Hall a library rich in ' divinity 
 and MS. household receipts.' Sir Roger too had drawn 
 many observations together out of his reading in Baker's 
 Chronicle, and other authors ' who always lie in his Hall 
 window ; ' and, however limited his own classic lore, it is 
 certain that both in love and in friendship he displayed strong 
 
 * Macauiay's History of England. 
 
184 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 literary sympathies. The perverse Widow whose cruelty 
 darkened his whole existence, was a ' reading lady,' a 'des- 
 perate scholar,' and in argument ' as learned as the best 
 philosopher in Europe.' One who. when in the country, 
 ' does not run into dairies, but reads upon the nature of plants 
 — has a glass hive and comes into the garden out of books to 
 see them work.' In his friendship again. Sir Roger was all 
 for learning. Besides the Spectator, — to whom he eventually 
 bequeathed his books — he indulged a Platonic admiration for 
 Leonora, a Widow, formerly a celebrated beauty, and still a 
 very lovely woman — who ' turned all the passion of her sex 
 into a love of books and retirement.' 
 
 Chap. III. The Coverley Household. 
 
 No. 107. Tuesday, July 3, 1711. By Steele, 
 Page 24. The general Corruption of Manners in Servants 
 is owing to the Conduct of Masters. The account of Sir 
 Roger's domestics, in which his benevolence is made so 
 vividly to beam forth, was ' intended as a gentle admonition 
 to thankless masters,' whose harshness and brutality were not 
 exaggerated in the fictions and plays of the time. It was 
 quite usual for gentlemen to cane offending footmen, and to 
 assail female servants with the coarsest abuse. On the other 
 side, dependants took their revenge to the fullest extent; — 
 sometimes by subtle artifice, at others by reckless dissipation 
 and bold dishonesty. Newspapers, and criminal records, 
 prove that Dean Swift's ' Directions to Servants ' was not an 
 imaginative satire ; but that every word was founded on fact. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 185 
 
 Indeed some of the experiences from which it was drawn 
 were manifestly derived from his own drinking, cheating-, and 
 cringing man, Patrick. In the 88th number of the Spectator 
 Philo-Britannicus complains that although there is no place 
 wherein servants labour less than in England, yet they are 
 nowhere ' so little respectful, more wasteful, more negligent, 
 or where they so frequently change masters.' 
 
 That most of the vices of servants were due to the ill- 
 conduct of masters — which the example of Sir Roger in this 
 chapter is meant in all kindliness to expose and correct — the 
 Spectator points out in many pages; but, especially, in his 
 commentary on the letter of Philo-Britannicus. ' All depen- 
 dants,' he observes, ' run in some measure into the Measures 
 and Behaviour of those whom they serve ' — a fact which he 
 humorously illustrates thus : — 
 
 ' Falling in the other day at a victualling-house near the 
 House of Peers, I heard the maid come down and tell ihe 
 landlady at the bar, that my Lord Bishop swore he would 
 throw her out at window if she did not bring up more mild 
 beer, and that my Lord Duke would have a double mug of 
 purl. My surprise was increased in hearing loud and rustic 
 voices speak and answer to each other upon the public affairs 
 by the names of the most illustrious of our nobility ; till of a 
 sudden one came running in, and cried the House was rising. 
 Down came all the company together, and away : The ale- 
 house was immediately filled with clamour, and scoring one 
 mug to the Marquis of such a place, oil and vinegar to such 
 an Earl, three quarts to my new Lord for wetting his title, 
 and so forth. It is a thin^ too notorious to mention the 
 
186 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 crowds of servants, and their insolence, near the courts of 
 justice, and the stairs towards the supreme assembly, where 
 there is an universal mockery of all order, such riotous 
 ( amour and licentious confusion, that one would think the 
 whole nation lived in jest, and there were no such thing as 
 rule and distinction among us.' 
 
 No. 96 of the Spectator and No. 87 of the Guardian are 
 filled with the same subject. The short sketch, which ends 
 the latter paper, of Lycurgus, ' the Banker, the Council, and 
 Parent of all his numerous Dependants,' is a miniature copy 
 of Sir Roger by the same artist. 
 
 Various attempts were made to reform domestics ; and 
 among them we find, in the first issue of the Spectator, (No. 
 224) the advertisement of a society for the encouragement of 
 good servants ' at the office in Ironmonger Lane. The 
 method,' continues the advertisement, ' has hitherto had very 
 good efl^ects, the benefits not being receivable without dutiful 
 behaviour of the servants, and a good character from their 
 master.' 
 
 Chap. TV. The Coverley Guest. 
 
 No. 108. Wednesday, July 4, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 31. Will Wimble is younger Brother to a Baronet, 
 and descended of the ancient Family of th Wimbles. This 
 delineation, li e the rest of the Spectator's prominent char- 
 acters, is too like life to have escaped the imputation of 
 having been drawn from it. The received story is, that 
 Will Wimble was a Mr. Thomas Morecraft, younger son of 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 187 
 
 a Yorkshire baronet. Steele knew this gentleman in early 
 life and introduced him to Addison, by whose bounty he was 
 for some time supported ; for, though excelling in such small 
 and profitless arts as are attributed to Will Wimble, he had 
 not the ingenuity to gain his own livelihood. When Addison 
 died, Mr. Morecraft went to Ireland to his friend the Bishop 
 of Kildare, at whose house in Fish Street, Dublin, he died 
 in 1741. 
 
 The attentive reader of the Toiler will find in it the germ 
 of many of the characters in the Spectator — an additional 
 argument against their having been drawn from actual indi- 
 viduals. The honourable Mr. Thomas Gules, who indicted 
 Peter Plum in the Court of Honour for taking the wall of 
 him, {Tatler, No. 256) will at once be recognised as the 
 prototype of Will Wimble. ' The prosecutor alleged that 
 he was the Cadet of a very ancient family ; and that according 
 to the principles of all the younger brothers of the said family, 
 he had never sullied himself with business ; but had chosen 
 rather to starve like a man of honour, than do anything 
 beneath his quality. He produced several witnesses that he 
 had never employed himself beyond the twisting of a whip, 
 or the making of a pair of nutcrackers, in which he only 
 worked for his diversion, in order to make a present now and 
 then to his friends.' 
 
 Chap. V. The Coverley Lineage. 
 
 No. 109. Thursday, July 5, 1711. By Steele. 
 
 Page 37. He was the last Man that won a Pnze in the 
 
188 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Tilt Yard. * * * I do not know but it might he exactly where 
 the Coffee-house is now. 
 
 * South from Charing Cross, on the right hand, in Stow's 
 time, were divers handsome houses lately built before the 
 park ; then a large tilt yard for noblemen and others to exer- 
 cise themselves in justing, turneying, and fighting at the 
 barriers.'* One of these 'handsome houses' afterwards 
 became Jenny Man's ' Tilt Yard Coffee House ' in White- 
 hall, upon the site now occupied by the Paymaster General's 
 office. It was the resort of military officers, until supplanted 
 by Slaughter's in St. Martin's Lane ; which more recently 
 was, in its turn, ruined by the military clubs. The Spectator 
 states elsewhere that the mock military also frequented the 
 Tilt Yard Coffee House — fellows who figured in laced hats, 
 black cockades, and scarlet suits, and who manfully pulled 
 the noses of quiet citizens who wore not swords. 
 
 Page 38. Whereas the Ladies now walk as if they were in 
 a Go-Cart. The hooped petticoat was revived, not long be- 
 fore the date of this paper, by a mantua-maker named Selby. 
 Against it keen war was waged in the Spectator. No. 127 
 is wholly devoted to the subject ; Sir Roger being incidentally 
 enlisted as an ally. 
 
 It hath ever been considered a foible of the fair sex to run 
 into extremes; and, while the promenade costume of that 
 day (and indeed of scores of succeeding years) was more 
 ample than the present crowded state of population would 
 
 * The Edition of Stoio (Folio 1720) by Seymour, otherwise J. 
 Mottley, the compiler of Joe Miller's Jest Book. 
 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 189 
 
 allow, the equestrian habit appears to have been tightened 
 into a close imitation of male habiliments. — ' I remember 
 when I was at my friend Sir Roger de Coverley's,' says 
 the Spectator, (July 18, 1712,) ' about this time twelvemonth, 
 an equestrian lady of this order appeared upon the plains 
 which lie at a distance from his house. I was at that time 
 walking- in the fields with my old friend ; and as his tenants 
 ran out on every side to see so strange a sight. Sir Roger 
 asked one of them who came by us what it was ? To which 
 the country fellow replied, 'Tis a gentlewoman, saving your 
 worship's presence, in a coat and hat. This produced a great 
 deal of mirth at the knight's house, where we had a story at 
 the same time of another of his tenants, who meeting this 
 gentleman-like lady on the highway, was asked by her 
 whether that was Coverley-Hall, the honest man seeing only 
 the male part of the querist, replied. Yes, Sir ; but upon the 
 second question, luhether Sir Roger de Coverley loas a mar- 
 ried man, having dropped his eye upon the petticoat, he 
 changed his notes into JVb, Madam.'' 
 
 Chap. YI. The Coverley Ghost. 
 
 No. 110. Friday, July 6, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 43. Feedeth the young Ravens that call vpon Him. 
 ' Who giveth fodder unto the cattle ; and feedeth the young 
 ravens that call upon Him.' — Psalm cxlvii. 9. 
 
 Page 45. Mr. Locke, in his Chapter of the Association of 
 Ideas. — Essay on Human Understanding, Book ii. chap. 33, 
 section 10. 
 
190 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Chap. VII. The Coverlet Sabbath. 
 
 No. 112. Monday, July 9, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 51. As soon os the Sermon is finished, nobody pre- 
 sumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the Church. The 
 church close to which Addison was born, and where his 
 father ministered, may have supplied some of the traits to the 
 exquisite picture of a rural Sabbath which this chapter 
 presents. 
 
 The parish church of Milston is a modest edifice, situated 
 in a combe or hollow of the Wiltshire downs, about tw° 
 miles north-west of Amesbury. In the parsonage hous3 — 
 now an honoured ruin — on the 1st of May, 1672, Joseph 
 Addison was born. It is only separated from the grave-yard 
 by a hawthorn fence, and must have been, when inhabited, 
 the beau ideal of a country parsonage. It has a spacious 
 garden, rich glebe, and commands a pretty view, bounded by 
 the hill on which stands the church of Durrington. 
 
 Milston church remains nearly in the same state, as, during 
 the first twelve years of his life which Addison passed under 
 its shadow. As no benevolent parishioner took the hint con- 
 veyed in Sir Roger's will, it is still without tower or steeple ; 
 the belfry being nothing more than a small louvered shed. 
 Within, the church is partitioned off by tall worm-eaten pews, 
 and is scarcely capable of holding a hundred persons. At 
 the east end stands the communion table, ' railed in.' It was 
 once lighted by a stained glass windovv ; but of this it was 
 deprived by the cupidity of a deceased incumbent. The same 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 191 
 
 person was guilty of a worse act : — To oblige a friend — ' a 
 collector ' — he actually tore out the leaf of the parish regis- 
 ter which contained the entry of Joseph Addison's birth. 
 
 Milston Church does not display the texts of Scripture 
 attributed to the Coverley edifice. If any existed when 
 Addison wrote, they must have been since effaced by white 
 wash. 
 
 Chap. VIII. Sir Roger in Love. 
 
 No, 113. Tuesday, July 10, 1711. By Steele. 
 
 Page 60. The Widow is the secret Cause of all that Incon- 
 sistency which appears in some Parts of my Friend^s Dis- 
 course. The notion that the perverse widow had a living, 
 charming, provoking, original, has been more prevalent and 
 better supported than that respecting any of the rest of the 
 Coverley characters. Although a mere outline, — hinted 
 rather than delineated amidst the picturesque group of last 
 century figures — she is so suggestively shadowed forth that 
 the reader himself insensibly vivifies the outline, feels her 
 ascendency and doubles his pity for her kind-hearted victim. 
 * The dignity of her aspect, the composure of her motion,' 
 and the polish of her repartee — heightened by the foil of 
 her spiteful confidant — make us participate in Sir Roger's 
 awe; and, while we sympathize with his ardent admiration, 
 we tremble for the hapless presumption that aspires to ' the 
 finest Hand of any Woman in the World.' — Her subtlety 
 was unbounded. No coquette commands success who, be- 
 sides varied resources, can. lot ply her art with the chastest 
 
192 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 dexterity ; and the Widow's omnipotence was attained less 
 by her personal charms and mental graces, than by the deli- 
 cacy of her lures, and the nice discrimination with which they 
 were spread. 
 
 These faint but variegated tints are so truthfully blended 
 in the Widow, that not only general readers, but acute critics 
 have believed, that nothing short of the minutest experience 
 of an equally desperate suit to an equally coy and fascinating 
 original, could have inspired and executed the likeness. 
 Both Addison and Steele had suffered from perverse Widows; 
 and who knows but this ' confluence of congenial sentiment ' 
 springing from a like source was one cause of these differ- 
 ently constituted men being long united in friendship ? 
 
 The tantalizing dominion under which Addison suffered 
 when the Coverley papers were in progress, was exercised by 
 the Countess Dowager of Warwick, Vv^hom he was anxiously 
 courting ; ' perhaps,' says Dr. Johnson, ' with behaviour not 
 very unlike that of Sir Roger to his disdainful widow.' The 
 result, though different, was not happier than Sir Roger's 
 destiny. Not till four years after the Coverley papers had 
 been finished did Addison succeed in his suit. ' On the 2nd 
 August, 1716,' continues the biographer of the poets, ' he 
 married the Countess, on terms much like those on which a 
 Turkish Princess is espoused ; to whom the Sultan is re- 
 ported to pronounce, "Daughter, I give thee this man for thy 
 slave ! " ' This marriage was only a change from one sort 
 of unhappiness to another, — from the intermittent vexations 
 of a slighted lover, to the chronic miseries of an ill-matched 
 husband. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 193 
 
 Probability, liowever, rejects Lady Warwick as the model 
 we seek. To find it we must, it is said, turn to Steele's 
 tormentress. Addison's sufferings were in full force when 
 the sketch was made ; Steele's were past. Addison's tor- 
 tures were too real and operative for the unchecked flow of 
 that genial humour — for that fine tolerance of the Widow's 
 cruelty — which pervades every allusion to her : Steele's 
 pains had, on the contrary, been first assuaged by time and 
 then, let us hope, extinguished by matrimony with another — 
 and another. While therefore experience had made him 
 master of a Widow's arts, the retrospect of what he had 
 suffered from them was too remote to darken the shadows, or 
 to sour the expression of the portrait. Hence it is his signa- 
 ture that appears to this paper, and his Widow who is said 
 to have inspired them. 
 
 The information on which this belief is grounded is derived 
 from Chalmers through Archdeacon Nares, to whom it was 
 communicated by the Rev. Duke Yonge of Plympton in 
 Devonshire. ' My attention,' says the reverend gentleman, 
 * was first drawn to this subject by a very vague tradition in 
 the family of Sir Thomas Crawley Boevey, of Flaxley Ab- 
 bey in Gloucestershire, that Mrs. Catherine Boevey, widow 
 of William Boevey, Esq., and who died January 21, 1726, 
 was the original from w^hence the picture of the perverse 
 widow in the Spectator was drawn. She was left a widow 
 at the early age of 22, and by her portrait (now at Flaxley 
 Abbey, and drawn at a more advanced period of her life) ap- 
 pears to have been a woman of a handsome, dignified figure, 
 13 
 
194 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 as she is described to have been in the 113th No. of the 
 Spectator. She was a personage well known and much 
 distinguished in her day, and is described very respectably in 
 the New Atalantis, under the name of Portia. From these 
 facts I was induced to examine whether any internal evidence 
 could be traced in the Spectator to justify the tradition. The 
 result of that enquiry is as follows : — 
 
 ' The papers in the Spectator which give the description of 
 the widow, were certainly written by Steele, and that Mrs. 
 Boevey was well known to Steele, and held by him in high 
 estimation, is equally certain. He dedicates the three vol- 
 umes of the " Lady's Library " to three different ladies, 
 Lady Burlington, Mrs. Boevey, and Mrs. Steele ; he describes 
 each of them in terms of the highest commendation, but each 
 of them is distinguished by very discriminating characteristics. 
 However exalted the characters of Lady Burlington, or Mrs. 
 Steele, there is not one word in the dedication to either which 
 corresponds to the character of the widow ; but the characters 
 of Mrs. Boevey and the Widow are drawn with marks of 
 very striking coincidence. No, 113 of the Spectator, as far 
 as it relates to the Widow, is almost a parody on the charac- 
 ter of Mrs. Boevey, as shown in the dedication. Sir Roger 
 tells his friend that she is a reading lady, and that her dis- 
 course was as learned as the best philosopher could possibly 
 make. She reads upon the nature of plants, and understands 
 everything. Li the dedication Steele says, " instead of as- 
 semblies and conversations, books and solitude have been your 
 choice : you have charms of your own sex, and knowledge 
 not inferior to the most learned of ours." In No. 118, " her 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 195 
 
 superior merit is such," says Sir Roger, " that I cannot ap- 
 proach her without awe, my heart is checked by too much 
 esteem." Dedication. "Your person and fortune equally 
 raise the admiration and awe of our whole sex." 
 
 ' She is described as having a Confidant, as the Knight 
 calls her, to whom he expresses a peculiar aversion. No. 118 
 being chiefly on that subject. " Of all persons," says the 
 good old Knight, " be sure to set a mark on confidants." I 
 know not whether the lady was deserving of the Knight's 
 reprobation, but Mrs. Boevey certainly had a female friend of 
 this desciiption, of the name of Pope, who lived with her 
 more than forty years, whom she left executrix, and who it is 
 believed in the family did not execute her office in the most 
 liberal manner.' 
 
 The communication goes on to state that Mrs. Boevey's 
 residence, Flaxley Abbey, was not far from the borders of 
 Worcestershire ; but that there was no tradition in the family 
 of her having had such a law-suit as is described by Sir 
 Roger. Indeed, a reference to dates shows such a circum- 
 stance to have been impossible, unless the phenomenon of a 
 widow of nine years old could be credited. Mr. Boevey 
 died in 1691, when his wife was twenty-two; now as the 
 Spectator fixed the old Knight's age at fifty-six, and as Sir 
 Roger himself affirms that the Widow first ' cast her be- 
 witching eye upon him ' in his twenty-third year, that fatal 
 glance must have flashed in 1678, when Mrs. Boevey was in 
 her girlhood. But this weighs not a feather in the scale of 
 evidence ; no true artist copies every trait of his subject, and 
 the verisimilitude is not diminished because the Gloucestershire 
 
196 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 enslaver was younger and not so litigious as the Worcester- 
 shire enchantress. 
 
 Mrs. Boevey died January 21, 1726-7 in her 57th year, 
 and was buried in the family vault at Flaxley with an inscrip- 
 tion on the walls of the chapel to her memory. There is 
 also a monument to her in Westminster Abbey, erected by 
 her executrix. 
 
 Sir Roger's Widow will never die. 
 
 Chap. IX. The Coverley Economy. 
 
 No. 114. Wednesday, July 11, 1711. By Steele. 
 
 Page 64. He would save four shillings in the Pound. The 
 land tax ; which from 1689 was continued by annual enact- 
 ments, till Lowndes's act fixed it at 4s. in the pound. Gay 
 addressed an epistle in verse ' to my ingenious and worthy 
 friend William Lowndes, Esq., author of the celebrated 
 treatise in folio called the land tax bill.' Some of the lines 
 run thus : — 
 
 ' Thy copious Preamble so smoothly runs. 
 Taxes no more appear like Legal Duns, 
 Lords, Knights, and Squires the Assessor's Power obey ; 
 We read with Pleasure though with Pain we pay.' 
 
 ' Poets of Old had such a wondrous Power, 
 That with their verses they could raise a tower ; 
 But, in thy Prose, a greater Force is found — 
 What Poet ever raised Three Thousand Pound? ' 
 
 In 1799 the land tax was made perpetual. 
 
 1 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 197 
 
 Chap. X. The Coverley Hunt. 
 
 Nos. 115 and 116. Friday July 13, and Saturday 14, 
 1711. The former paper is by Addison, the latter by Eustace 
 Budgell. 
 
 Page 67. Such a system of Tubes and Glands as has been 
 before mentioned: — viz. in the Commencement of No. 115. 
 ' I consider the Body as a system of Tubes and Glands, or to 
 use a more Rustic Phrase, a Bundle of Pipes and Strainers, 
 fitted to one another after so wonderful a manner as to make 
 a proper Engine for the Soul to work with.' 
 
 Page 69. His stable doors are patched with Noses that be- 
 longed to Foxes of the Knighfs own hunting down, x^lthough 
 the Spectator advocated in this, and other pages, moderate 
 indulgence in the Sports of the Field, the excessive passion 
 of Country Gentlemen for them, to the exclusion of more 
 intellectual pastimes, he elsewhere deplores. In a later 
 volume he quotes a saying that the curse fulminated by Goliah 
 having missed David, had rested on the modern Squire : — 'I 
 will give thee to the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the 
 field.' The Country Gentleman was respected by his neigh- 
 bours, less for morality or intellect, than for the number of 
 Foxes' noses he could show nailed to his stables and barns. 
 
 The sedentary, though assuredly less healthful and respect- 
 able games and pastimes introduced by Charles the Second 
 and his followers from abroad, had not, even in Queen Anne's 
 day, become so thoroughly naturalized as they were after- 
 wards ; and ladies keenly participated in the sports of the 
 field. The Queen herself followed the hounds in a chaise 
 
198 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 with one horse, ' which ' says Swift ' she drives herself; and 
 drives furiously, like Jehu ; and is a mighty hunter, like 
 Nimrod.' She was, if Stella's journalist did not exaggerate, 
 quite equal to runs even longer than those performed by the 
 Coverley hounds ; for, on the 7th August, 1711, she drove 
 before dinner five and forty miles after a stag. 
 
 Page 70. Sir Roger has disposed of his Beagles and got a 
 pack of Stop-hounds. We infer from Blaine's Rural Sports, 
 that when one of these hounds found the scent, he gave 
 notice of his good fortune by deliberately squatting to impart 
 more effect to his deep tones, and to get wind for a fresh 
 start. 
 
 Page 74. The Huntsman threw down his pole before the 
 Dogs. The undrained, uncultivated condition of the coun- 
 try in Sir Roger's days, made hunting on horseback by no 
 means so easy as it is at present. The master of the pack 
 therefore could follow straighter over bogs, morasses, and 
 ditches, on foot, than the squire could on horseback. To 
 assist him in leaping, the pedestrian hunter used a pole. 
 Some of the leaps taken in this manner would surprise an 
 equestrian huntsman of the present day. 
 
 Page 71. Sir Roger is so keen at this Sport, that he has 
 been out almost ecery Day since I came here. The Spectator 
 arrived at Coverley Hall on one of the last days of June, and 
 the hunt described in the paper dated as above is said to have 
 taken place 'yesterday.' Mr. Budgell — who was the son 
 of a Devonshire esquire — ought to have known better than 
 to make Sir Roger indulge in his favourite sport so decidedly 
 
 •^ 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 199 
 
 out of season. It is a wonder how so grave a mistake 
 escaped editorial revision. 
 
 Page 75. The Lines out of Mr. Dryden — occur in ' An 
 Epistle to his kinsman, J. Dryden, Esquire, of Cliesterton.' 
 
 Chap. XL The Coverley "Witch. 
 
 No. 117. Saturday, July 14, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 77. The following description in Olway. The lines 
 quoted in the text are from the second Act of the Orphan. 
 
 Page 86. I hear there is scarce a Village in England that 
 has not a Moll White. The belief in witchcraft was in 
 Anne's reign something more than merely popular. The 
 act of James (Anno : 1. cap. 12) was in full force. By it 
 death was decreed to whoever dealt with evil or wicked 
 spirits, or invoked them whereby any persons were killed or 
 lamed ; or discovered where anything was hidden, or pro- 
 voked unlawful love, &c. Under this law two women were 
 executed at Northampton just before the Spectator began to 
 be published ; and, not long after (1716), a Mrs Hicks and 
 her daughter were hanged at Huntingdon for selling their 
 souls to the devil, making their neighbours vomit pins, rais- 
 ing a storm so that a certain ship was ' almost ' lost, and a 
 variety of other impossible crimes. By 1736, these super- 
 stitions abated; the Witch Act had become dormant; and, 
 on an ignorant person attempting in that year to enforce it 
 against an old woman in Surrey, it was repealed (10th 
 Geo. 11.) 
 
200 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Chap. XII. The Coverley Love Match 
 Spectator, No. 118. Monday, July 16, 1711. By Steele. 
 
 Chap. XIII. The Coverley Etiquette. 
 
 No. 119. Tuesday, July 17, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 93. The Women in many farts are still trying to 
 vie with each other in the Height of their Head-dresses. This, 
 at the date of the present paper, was being- decidedly ' behind 
 the fashion : ' for in 1711 the mode changed. Still the pro- 
 vincials had their excuses, for in No. 98, the Spectator 
 affirms that there is no such variable thing in nature as a 
 lady's head-dress : ' Within my own Memory I have known 
 it rise and fall above thirty Degrees. About ten years ago 
 it shot up to a very great height, insomuch that the female 
 part of our species were much taller than men. The women 
 were of such an enormous stature that we appeared as Grass- 
 hoppers before them. At present the whole sex is in a 
 manner dwarfed and shrunk into a Race of Beauties that 
 seems almost another species. I remember several ladies, 
 who were once very near seven foot high, that at present 
 want some inches of five : how they came to be thus curtailed 
 I cannot learn.' 
 
 Besides the numerous papers devoted to women's attire, 
 the whole of No. 265 is a satire on the single subject of 
 head-dresses. This frequent recurrence to the small absurd- 
 ities of female fashion is said to have damaged the prosperity 
 of the Spectator. Soon after the appearance of the above 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 201 
 
 cited number, Swift wriles impatiently in his Journal, ' I 
 will not meddle with the Spectator : let him fair-sex it to the 
 world's end.' 
 
 Chap. XIY. The Coverley Ducks. 
 
 Nos. 120 and 1-21. Wednesday, July 18th, and Thursday, 
 19th, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Chap. XV. Sir Roger on the Bench. 
 
 Spectator, No. 122. Friday, July 20th, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 101. He is just within the Game Act. The 3rd of 
 James the First, chap. 14, clause v , provides that if any 
 person who has not real property producing forty pounds per 
 Ann., or who has not two hundred pounds worth of goods 
 and chattels, shall presume to shoot game ; ' Then any per- 
 son having lands, tenements, or hereditaments, of the clear 
 yearly value of one hundred pounds a year, may take from 
 the person or possession of such malefactor or malefactors, 
 and to his own use forever keep, such guns, bows, cross- 
 bows, buckstalls, engine-hays, nets, ferrets, and coney dogs, 
 &c.' This amiable enactment — which permitted a one 
 hundred pound freeholder to become in his single person, 
 accuser, witness, judge, jury, and executioner ; and which 
 made an equally respectable but poorer man who shot a hare 
 a ' malefactor ' — was the law of the land even so lately as 
 1827, for it was only repealed by the 7th and 8th Geo. IV. 
 chap. 27. 
 
202 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Chap. XVI. The Story of an Heir. 
 
 No. 123. Saturday, July 21, 1711. By Addison. 
 
 Page 107. Eudoxus and Leontiae began the world loilh 
 small estates. 
 
 ' Being very well pleased with this day's Spectator, (writes 
 Mr. Addison to Mr. Wortley, under date "July 21, 1711,") 
 I cannot forbear sending you one of them, and desiring your 
 opinion of the story in it. When you have a son I shall be 
 glad to be his Leontine, as my circumstances will probably 
 be like his I have within this twelve-month lost a place of 
 2000/. per annum, an estate in the Indies of 14,000/., and 
 what is worse than all the rest, my mistress. Hear this and 
 wonder at my philosophy. I find they are going to take 
 away my Irish place from me too : to which I must add, that 
 I have just resigned my fellowship, and that the stocks sink 
 every day. If you have any hints or subjects, pray send me 
 up a paper full. I long to talk an evening with you. I 
 believe I shall not go to Ireland this summer, and perhaps 
 would pass a month with you, if I knew where. Lady 
 Bellasis is very much your humble servant. Dick Steele 
 and I often remember you.' 
 
 Of the estate in ' The Indies ' — referred to also by Swift 
 — no intelligible notice has been found. The mistress was 
 probably the perverse widow, the Countess ; who, at that 
 date, had perhaps cast him oiT ' for ever ' — after the manner 
 of capricious ladies — several times during a single court- 
 ship. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 203 
 
 Chap. XVII. Sir Roger and Party Spirit. 
 
 Nos. 125 and 126. Wednesday, July 25th, and Thursday, 
 26,1711. Both by Addison. 
 
 Page 114. This worthy Knif^ht had occasion to enquire 
 which loas the way to St. Anne's Lane. There were two St. 
 Anne's lanes which might have cost Sir Eoger trouble to 
 find ; one ' on the north side of St. ]Martin's-lG-Grand just 
 within Aldersgate Street' (Stow) ; and the other — which it 
 requires sharp eyes to find in Strype's map — turning out of 
 Great Peter Street, Westminster. Mr. Peter Cunningham, 
 in his admirable Hand Book for London, prefers supposing 
 Sir Roger enquiring his way in Westminster. 
 
 Page 115. Sir Roger generally closes his narrative with 
 reflections on the Mischief that Parties do in the Country. 
 There is scarcely a period when party spirit raged so fiercely 
 as at the date of these numbers of the Spectator; for, although 
 faction had long sheathed the sword, the tongue in coflfee- 
 houses and the pen in pamphlets were never more bitterly or 
 rancorously employed. Only a few months previously, the 
 trial of Dr. Sachevrel and the ' bed-chamber cabal ' — of 
 which Mrs. Masham was chief — had overturned the Godol- 
 phin ministry ; and had brought in the Tories with Harley at 
 their head, backed by a new and eminently Tory House of 
 Commons, with Whiggery enough in the Upper House and 
 in the camarilla, to keep the flames of party in full glow. 
 So nearly were sides balanced in the House of Lords, that to 
 carry the peace project, which ended in the treaty of 
 Utrecht, Anne was afterwards obliged to make twelve new 
 
204 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Tory Peers — a ' jury ' of such well packed Tories, that a 
 Whig wit asked one of them if they intended to vote by their 
 ' foreman.' The Duchess of Somerset was still retained 
 about the person of the Queen ; and counteracted, in part, 
 the subtle Tory whisperings of Mrs. Masham into Anne's 
 ear. The lucrative employments of the Duchess of Marlbo- 
 rough were divided between these two favourites. The 
 Duke was on the eve of being impeached for peculation, and 
 his regiment had actually been transferred to Hill, Mrs. 
 Masham's brother. The Whigs violently advocated the con- 
 tinuance of a war which Marlborough's victories had made 
 at once so profitable to his private fortune and so glorious 
 to the nation. The Tories and the Queen strove equally 
 for peace : nor did this contest suspend the Church contro- 
 versy which Sachevrel's trial had brought to issue without 
 deciding. 
 
 These questions ranged the British Public into two ranks, 
 under Whig and Tory banners ; and carried the battle into 
 private life in the manner not less truthfully than humor- 
 ously described in the text, and in various other chapters of 
 the Spectator. Families were estranged and friendships 
 broken up, especially amongst those who played prominent 
 parts in the struggle — such as Swift on the Tory, and Addi- 
 son and Steele on the Whig side. Yet it is gratifying to 
 observe, that the softening influences of literature afforded a 
 lingering link of union to these men even after they were in 
 political opposition. Swift, the foremost party pamphleteer 
 of his day, did not scruple to use his influence with Harley, 
 in favour of ' Pastoral ' Philips, Congreve, and on one occa 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 205 
 
 sion for Steele. On the day of publication of the paper 
 which forms part of our present chapter, (Thursday, July 
 26th, 1711), Swift, Addison, and Steele, dined together at 
 young Jacob Tonson's, ' Mr. Addison and I talked as usual, 
 and as if we had seen one another yesterday ; and Steele 
 and I were very easy, though I wrote him a biting letter in 
 answer to one of his, where he desired me to recommend a 
 friend of his to the Lord Treasurer.' Again, under a later 
 date, Swift writes to Stella, ' I met Pastoral Philips and Mr. 
 Addison on the Mall to-day, and took a turn with them ; but 
 they looked terribly dry and cold. A curse on party ! ' 
 
 The bonds of other classes of society were more forcibly 
 riven. The lower the grade the more inveterate the conten- 
 tion : for, as Pope said about that time, ' There never was any 
 party, faction, sect, or cabal whatsoever, in which the most 
 ignorant were not the most violent ; for a bee is not a busier 
 animal than a blockhead.' Even trade was tainted by the 
 poison of party. The buying, in its dealings with the selling 
 public, more generally enquired into the political principles 
 of tradesmen, than into the excellence or defects of their 
 wares. Inn-keepers as we find in the text were especially 
 subjected to this rule, and their politics were known by the 
 signs at their doors. Addison's ' Freeholder's ' introduction 
 to the Tory fox hunter was commenced by the recommenda- 
 tion of a host — ' A lusty fellow, that lives well, is at least 
 three yards in the girt, and is the best Church of England 
 man upon the road.' 
 
 Not the least conspicuous pariizans were, alas, of the 
 gentler sex ; for the chiefs of each faction were women, and 
 
206 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATION'S. 
 
 their theatre of war the Queen's bed-chamber. The pelty 
 expedients of each faction to distinguish itself in public from 
 the other, are happily ridiculed in various parts of the Spec- 
 tator. At the play Whig and Tory ladies sat at opposite 
 sides of the house, and ' patched ' on opposite sides of their 
 faces: — ' I must here take notice, that Rosalinda, a famous 
 Whig partizan, has most unfortunately a very beautiful Mole 
 on the Tory part of her forehead ; which being very conspic- 
 uous, has occasioned many mistakes, and given an handle to 
 her enemies to misrepresent her face, as though it had 
 revolted from the Whig interest. But whatever this natural 
 patch may seem to insinuate, it is well known that her no- 
 tions of government are still the same. This unlucky Mole, 
 however, has misled several coxcombs ; and like the hanging 
 out of false colours, made some of thcra converse with Rosa- 
 linda in what they thought the spirit of her party, when on 
 a sudden she has given them an unexpected fire, that has 
 sunk them all at once. If Rosalinda is unfortunate in her 
 Mole, Nigranilla is as unhappy in a Pimple, which forces 
 her, against her inclination, to patch on the Whig side ' 
 No. 81. 
 
 So angry were the Whig ladies with the Queen when she 
 presented Prince Eugene with the jewelled sword, that they 
 abstained in a body from appearing at Court on that occasion : 
 — which being that of Her Majesty's birthday was evidence 
 of unprecedented party rancour. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 207 
 
 Chap. XVIII. The Coverley Gipseys. 
 No. 130. Monday, July 30th, nil. By Addison. 
 
 Chap. XIX. A Summons to London. 
 
 Spectator, No. 131. Tuesday, July 31st, 1711. By Ad- 
 dison. 
 
 Page 127. What theij here call a White Witch. Accord- 
 ing to popular belief, there were three classes of Witches ; 
 — White, Black, and Gray. The first helped, but could not 
 hurt ; the second the reverse, and the third did both. White 
 Spirits caused stolen goods to be restored ; they charmed 
 away diseases, and did other beneficent acts ; neither did a 
 little harmless mischief lie wholly out of their way : — 
 Dryden says 
 
 ' At least as little honest as he could, 
 And like White Witches mischievously good.' 
 
 Chap. XX. The Journey from Covekley Hall. 
 
 No. 13-2. Wednesday, August 1, 1711. By Steele. 
 
 Page 130. As soon as v)e arrived at the Tnn, the Servant 
 enquired of the Chamberlain what Company he had for the 
 Coach ? The best possible illustration of this passage is 
 Hogarth's print of the Inn yard. The landlady in her semi- 
 circular glass case, or penthouse bar; the parting drams being 
 imbibed by the coachman and by some of the leave-takers ; 
 the sleepiness of the ostlers and porters, and the deliberation 
 
208 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 of the passengers show how a journey was then commenced. 
 The enquiry made by the servant was usual. It was a par- 
 donable curiosity in the Spectator to try and learn with whom 
 he was to be jumbled over rugged roads for the three entire 
 days which were consumed by a stage-coach in a single 
 transit from Worcester to London. 
 
 Although it was more than a half century later before any 
 great advance in road-making took place, yet the dawn of 
 improvement in carriages was just beginning to break. To 
 the Spectator for June 24, 1711, is appended the following 
 advertisement ; 
 
 ' Whereas Her Majesty has been graciously pleased lately 
 to grant Letters Patent to Henry Mill, Gent, for the Sole Use 
 and Benefit of making and vending certain Steel Springs by 
 him invented for the Ease of Persons riding in Chaises, &c. 
 They effectually prevent all Jolts on Kennels and Rugged 
 Ways.- 
 
 Page 131. The Captain's Half-Pike. The soldier's pike 
 had been recently superseded by the socket bayonet. Non- 
 commissioned officers however retained the halbert, and offi- 
 cers their half-pike. The Duke of Monmouth is described 
 at the battle of Sedgemoor as having rushed about on foot 
 among his broken levies to encourage them ' pike in hand.' 
 
 Page 134. Our Reckonings^ Apartments and Accommo- 
 dation fell under Ephraim. This duty was rather onerous, 
 on account of the number of stoppages on the road, the 
 consequent multiplicity of reckonings, and the equal number 
 of attempts at over-charge. It was the custom for the male 
 to pay for the refreshments of the female passengers. This 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 209 
 
 was often felt as a grievous tax, and was in some cases 
 resisted. Thoresby, in recording in his diary a stage-coach 
 journey from Wakefield to London in 1714, states that on the 
 third day there was an accession of passengers, ' which, 
 though Females, were more chargeable in Wine and Brandy 
 than the former Part of the journey, wherein we had neither ; 
 but the Next Day we gave them Leave to Treat Them- 
 selves.' 
 
 Page 134. The right toe had of taking Place, as going to 
 London; of all Vehicles coming from thence. This rule of 
 the road was occasioned by the bad condition of the public 
 ways. On the best lines of communication ruts were so deep 
 and obstructions so formidable that it was only in fine weather 
 that the whole breadth of the road was available, for on each 
 side was often a quagmire of mud. Seldom could two 
 vehicles pass each other unless one of them stopped. Which 
 that should be caused endless disputes, and not a few 
 accidents. Some obstinate drivers preferred disputation, and 
 even collision and broken wheels or broken bones, to ' pulling 
 up' in deference to a rival Jehu. At such times the path 
 was blocked up for hours, and when an accumulation of 
 vehicles was the consequence, the end was a general fight 
 amongst the carriers, carters, and coachmen. — Single combat 
 also arose, from a like cause, among pedestrians in the streets 
 to settle the important question of who should ' take the wall.' 
 This was a real privilege when, in ordinary weather, the 
 edge of the foot-path was heaped with mud ; and, on wet 
 days, streams poured upon it from the eaves of the houses. 
 14 
 
210 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Chap. XXL Sir Roger in London. 
 
 No. 269. Tuesday, January 8, 1712. By Addison. 
 
 Page 136. He told me that his Master was come up to get 
 a Sight of Prince Eugene. The Prince's mission to this 
 country was no less popular than his victories — gained in 
 association with Marlborough — had made his person. It 
 was to urge the prosecution with Austria of the war against 
 France in terms of the treaty of 1706, and to endeavour to 
 restore to the Queen's favour his great ally the Duke, who 
 had only four days before his arrival been dismissed witli 
 disgrace from all his employments. ' Gratitude, esteem, the 
 partnership in so many military operations,' we read in 
 Prince Eugene's Autobiography, ' and pity for a person in 
 disgrace, caused me to throw myself with emotion into 
 Marlborough's arms.' 
 
 Nothing could exceed the entlmsiastic reception with which 
 Eugene was greeted ; and, an adroit illustration of the 
 eagerness of the public to behold him, is the bringing Sir 
 Roger up to London solely for that purpose, only two days 
 after the Prince's appearance. ' The knight,' says the 
 Spectator, ' made me promise to get him a stand in some con- 
 venient place where he might have a full view of that extra- 
 ordinary man.' This was in fact a necessity; for whenever 
 the Prince ventured in the streets, he was beset by eager 
 multitudes, from the evening of his arrival (5th January, 
 1712) till his departure. 
 
 While there was a chance of gaining over the illustrious 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 211 
 
 Envoy, the Court party joined in the general homage, and 
 on her birth-day Anne gave the Prince a jewelled sword, 
 valued at £4,500. Then Swift, at first sight, ' did'nt think 
 him an ugly faced fellow, but well enough ; and a good 
 shape.* {Journal^ Jan. 13.) Eugene was not to be won ; 
 and persisted in passing most of his time with Marlborough : 
 whom Harley, the lord treasurer, had just stripped of his 
 title of general. One day at dinner, while Harley was 
 plying the Prince with flattery and depreciating Marlborough, 
 he called Eugene the first General in Europe. ' If I am so,' 
 said the Prince, ' 'tis to yoi^r lordship T am indebted for. that 
 distinction ' Both by words and behaviour, therefore, Prince 
 Eugene firmly adhered to ihe cause he had come over to 
 advance, and he fell into utter disrepute with the Tory or 
 peace party. Then it was that Swift, eager as the rest, got 
 a second glimpse of the great man ; but the same pair of eyes 
 jaundiced with party prejudice found him ' plaguy yellow and 
 literally ugly besides.' {Journal^ Feb. 10.) 
 
 Meanwhile the illustrious Envoy was the idol of the 
 populace and of the whigs. He returned their idolatry by a 
 pleasing affability while in public ; and by a variety of small 
 but agreeable courtesies in private. Amongst these it must 
 be noted that he stood sponsor to Steele's second son. The 
 whig ladies professed to be in love with him, and returned a 
 compliment often paid to themselves by making him their 
 toast. In company, he had, according to Burnet, ' a most 
 unaffected modesty, and does scarcely bear the acknowledge- 
 ments that all the world pay him.' 
 
 His popularity was gall to the Tories, who with a too- 
 
212 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 prevalent and mean revenge set about showering- libels upon 
 him. On the 17th of March, Prince Eugene retired from 
 this country : his disgust and disappointment slightly tem- 
 pered by the kindness of the Queen ; v^^ho, at parting, gave 
 him her portrait. 
 
 A running fire of squibs and pamphlets was kept up against 
 the Tories on account of their cringing reception, and spiteful 
 dismissal of the illustrious visitor. One was advertised in 
 No. 471 of the Spectator as ' Prince Eugene not the Man 
 you took him for; or a Merry Tale of a Modern Hero.' 
 Price 6c?. 
 
 Page 137. ' I was no sooner come into Gray''s-Tnn Walks, 
 but 1 heard my Friend upon the Terrace hemming twice or 
 thrice to himself, for he loves to clear his Pipes in good Air.^ 
 Gray's Inn Gardens formed for a long time a fashionable 
 promenade. The chief entrance to them was Fulwood's 
 Rents, now a pent-up retreat for squalid poverty ; yet, in Sir 
 Roger's day, no place was better adapted for ' clearing his 
 pipes in good air,' for scarcely a house intervened thence to 
 Hampstead. A contemporary satirist (but who can scarcely 
 be quoted without an apology) affords a graphic description of 
 this promenade: — 'I found none but a parcel of Super- 
 annuated Debauchees huddled up in Cloaks, Frieze Coats, 
 and Wadded Gowns, to preserve their old Carcasses from the 
 Sharpness of Hampstead Air ; creeping up and down in Pairs 
 and Leashes no faster than the Hand of a Dial or a County 
 Convict going to Execution : some talking of Law, some of 
 Religion, and some of Politics. — After I had taken two or 
 three Turns round, I sat myself down in the Upper Walk, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 213 
 
 where just before rae on a Stone Pedestal was fixed an old 
 rusty Horizontal Dial with the Gnomon broke short off.'* 
 Round this sundial, seats were arranged in a semi-circle. 
 
 Gray's Inn Gardens were resorted to by less reputable 
 characters than the beggar whom good Sir Roger scolded 
 and relieved. Expert pickpockets and plausible ring-droppers 
 found easy prey there on crowded days. In the plays of the 
 period, Gray's Inn Gardens are frequently mentioned as a 
 place of assignation for clandestine lovers. 
 
 Page 139. The late Act of Parliament for securing the 
 Church of England. The lOth Anne, Cap. 2. 'An Act 
 for preserving the Protestant Religion by better securing the 
 Church of England as by law established,' &c. It was 
 knov^^n popularly as the act of ' Occasional Conformity.' 
 
 Page 140. The Papers Procession. Each anniversary of 
 Queen Elizabeth's accession (Nov. 17) was for many years 
 celebrated by the citizens of London in a manner expressive 
 of their detestation of the Church of Rome. A procession — 
 at times sufficiently attractive for royal spectators — paraded 
 the principal streets, the chief figure being an effigy of 
 
 ' The Pope, that Pagan full of pride,' 
 
 well executed in wax and expensively adorned with robes 
 and a tiara. He was accompanied by a train of cardinals 
 and Jesuits ; and at his ear stood a buffoon in the likeness of 
 a horned devil. After having been paraded through divers 
 streets, His Holiness was exultingly burnt opposite to the 
 
 * Ward's London Spy, vol. i. p. 384. 
 
214 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Whig club near the Temple gate in Fleet Street. After the 
 discovery of the Rye House plot, the Pope's procession was 
 discontinued ; but was resuscitated on the acquittal of the 
 seven bishops and dethronement of James II. Sacheverers 
 trial had added a new interest to the ceremony ; and on the 
 occasion referred to by Sir Roger, besides a popular dread of 
 the Church being — from the listlessness of the Ministers and 
 the machinations of the Pretender — in danger, there was a 
 very general opposition to the peace with France, for which 
 the Tories were intriguing. The party cry of ' No peace ' 
 was shouted in the same breath with ' No popery.' 
 
 The Whigs were determined, it was said, to give signifi- 
 cance and force to these watchwords by getting up the 
 anniversary show of 1711 with unprecedented splendour. 
 No good Protestant, no honest hater of the French could 
 refuse to subscribe his guinea for such an object ; and it was 
 said upwards of a thousand pounds were collected f< r the 
 effigies and their dresses and decorations alone; independent 
 of a large fund for incidental expenses. The Pope, the 
 Devil, and the Pretender were, it was reported, fashioned in 
 the likeness of the obnoxious Cabinet Ministers. The pro- 
 cession was to take place at night, and ' a thousand mob ' 
 were, it was asserted, to be hired to carry flambeaux at a 
 crown a-piece and as much beer and brandy as would inflame 
 them for mischief. The pageant was to open with ' twenty- 
 four bagpipes marching four and four, and playing the 
 memorable tune of Lillibullero.' Presently was to come ' a 
 figure representing Cardinal Gaulteri, (lately made by the 
 Pretender protector of the English nation,) looking down on 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 215 
 
 the ground in sorrowful posture ; ' his train supported by 
 two missionaries from Rome, supposed to be now in England.' 
 — ' Two pages throwing beads, bulls, pardons, and indul- 
 gences.' — 'Two jack puddings sprinkling holy-water.' — 
 * Twelve hautboys playing the " Greenwood tree." ' — Then 
 were to succeed ' Six beadles with Protestant flails,' and 
 after a variety of other satirical mummers the grand centre- 
 piece was to show itself: — 'The Pope under a magnificent 
 canopy, with a right silver fringe, accompanied by the Chev- 
 alier St. George on the left and his councellor the Devil on 
 his right.' The whole procession was to close with twenty 
 streamers displaying this couplet wrought on each, 
 
 * God bless Queen Anne, the nation's great defender. 
 Keep out the French, the Pope, and the Pretender.' 
 
 To be ready for this grand spectacle the figures were 
 deposited at a house in Drury Lane, whence the procession 
 was to march (' with proper reliefs of lights at several sta- 
 tions ') to St. James's Square, thence through Pall Mall, the 
 Strand, Drury Lane, and Holborn, to Bishopsgate Street, 
 and return through St. Paul's Church Yard to the bonfire in 
 Fleet Street. ' After proper ditties were sung, the Pretender 
 was to have been committed to the flames, being first absolved 
 by the Cardinal Gaulteri. After that the said Cardinal was 
 to be absolved by the Pope and burnt. And then the devil 
 was to jump into the flames with his holiness in his arms.'* 
 
 According, however, to the Tories, who spread the most 
 
 * From a folio half sheet published at the lime. 
 
216 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 exaggerated reports of these preparations, there were to have 
 been certain accidents which were duly and deUberately con- 
 trived beforehand by the conspirators. Besides the great 
 conflagration of the Sovereign Pontiff, there was to have 
 been several supplementary bonfires in the line of inarch, into 
 which certain actors of the show were to fling a mock copy 
 of the preliminary articles of peace. This was to be the 
 signal for a general exclamation of ' No peace ! ' Horse 
 messengers had also been engaged — so wrote the Cabinet 
 scribes — to gallop into the crowd ' as if to break their necks, 
 their hacks all foam ' to cry out ' the Queen is dead at Hamp- 
 ton Court ! ' Lord Wharton and several noblemen of even 
 higher rank were to disguise themselves as sailors, to mix 
 with and incite the mob. But the grand stroke was to be 
 dealt by the Duke of Marlborough. He was on his way from 
 Flanders — covered, most inopportunely for his enemies, with 
 the glory of one of his best achievements ; that of having 
 passed the strongly fortified lines drawn by the French from 
 Bouchain to Arras. On this famous eve the duke was to 
 have made his entry through Aldgate, and there met with 
 the cry of ' Victory, Bouchain, the Lines, no Peace ! ' 
 
 But all this was harmless as compared with the threatened 
 sequel. On the diabolical programme were said to be in- 
 scribed certain houses that were to be burnt dow'n. That of 
 the Commissioners of Accounts in Essex Street was to form 
 the first pyre, because in it had been discovered and completed 
 Marlborough's commissorial defalcations. The lord treasur- 
 er's was to follow. Harley himself was to have been torn to 
 pieces, as the Dutch pensionary De Witt had been. Indeed 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 217 
 
 the entire city was only to have escaped destruction and 
 rapine by a miracle. It is here that the Spectator himself 
 comes upon the scene. ' The Spectator, who ought to be but 
 a looker-on, was to have been an assistant ; that, seeing 
 London in a flame, he might have opportunity to paint after 
 the life, and remark the behaviour of the people in the ruin 
 of their country ; so to have made a diverting Spectator.'' * 
 
 These were the coarse excuses which the Tories put forth 
 for spoiling the show. At midnight on the 16 -17th of 
 Nov. a posse of Constables made forcible entry into the Drury 
 Lane Temple of the waxen images, and by force of arms 
 seized the Pope, the Pretender, the Cardinals, the Devil and 
 all his works, a chariot to have been drawn by six of his 
 imps, the canopies, the bagpipes, the bulls, the pardons, the 
 Protestant flails, the streamers, — in short the entire para- 
 phernalia. At one fell swoop the whole collection was 
 carried off to the Cock pit at Whitehall, then the privy 
 Council office. That the city apprentices should not be 
 wholly deprived of their expected treat, fifteen of the group 
 were exhibited to the public gratis. ' I saw to-day the 
 Pope, the Devil, and the other figures of cardinals, &c., 
 fifteen in all, which have made such a noise. I hear the 
 owners of them are so impudent, that their design is to re- 
 place them by law. The images are not worth forty pounds, 
 so I stretched a little when I said a thousand. The Grub 
 
 * A true relation of the several fuels and circumstances of the in- 
 tended Riot and Tumult on Queen Elizabeth'' s birthday, (^c, by an 
 ' understrapper' of Swift. See his Journal, Nov. 26, 1711. 
 
218 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Street account of that tumult is published. The Devil is not 
 like Lord Treasurer ; they were all in your odd antic masks 
 bought in common shops.' Thus wrote Swift to Stella; 
 yet, to the public he either gave, or superintended an account 
 of the affair which was simply a string of all the mendacious 
 exaggerations then wilfully put about by his patrons. Such 
 were the party tactics of Sir Roger's time. 
 
 Page 141. Squire'' s Coffee House. In Fulwood's Rents, 
 leading from Holborn into Gray's Inn Gardens as mentioned 
 ante. It was much frequented by the Benchers and Students 
 of Gray's Inn. Squire was ' a noted coffee-man,' who died 
 in 1717. 
 
 Chap. XXII. Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Spectator, No. 329. Tuesday, March 18th, 1712. By 
 Addison. 
 
 Page 142. He had been reading my paper upon Westminster 
 Abbey. Spectator, No. 26. 
 
 Page 143. He called for a Glass of the Widow Trueby^s 
 Water. One of the innumerable ' strong waters ' drunk, it 
 is said, (perhaps libellously,) chiefly by the fair sex as an 
 exhilarant; the excuses being the cholic and ' the vapours.' 
 Addison, who pretends in the text to find it unpalatable, is 
 accused as having been a constant imbiber of the Widow's 
 distillations. Indeed, Tyers goes so far as to say, on the 
 authority of ' Tacitus ' Gordon, that Addison hastened his 
 end by indulgence in them. Although an advertisement of 
 these waters is not to be found in the Folio Spectator, yet the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 219 
 
 curious will see in it strong puffs of other potent spirits in 
 disguise — thanks probably to the business connexions of Mr. 
 Lillie, perfumer. A ' grateful electuary ' is recommended in 
 No. 1 13 as having the power of raising the spirits, of curing 
 loss of memory, and revivifying all the noble powers of the 
 soul, — at the small charge of two and sixpence per bottle. 
 
 Another chymical secret, in No. 120, promises to cure 
 ' the vapours in women, infallibly, in an instant.' Daffy's 
 Elixir is advertised in No. 356. 
 
 Page 143. The Sickness being cd Danizick. — The plague 
 which raged there in 1709. ' Idleness which has long raged 
 in the world, destroys more in every great town than the 
 plague has done at Dantzick.' Taller, Nov. 22, 1709. 
 
 Page 145. ^ Sir Cloudeshj Shovel! a very gallant Man. ^ 
 This monument is in the south aisle of the choir. 
 
 ' Sir Cloudesly ShoveVs Monument has very often given me 
 great Offence. Instead of the brave rough English Admiral, 
 which was the distinguishing Character of that plain gallant 
 Man, he is represented on his Tomb by the Figure of a 
 Beau, dressed in a long Perriwig, and reposing himself upon 
 Velvet Cushions under a Canopy of State. The Inscription 
 is answerable to the Monument ; for insteaa of celebrating 
 the many remarkable Actions he had performed in the ser- 
 vice of his Country, it acquaints us only with the Manner of 
 his Death, in which it was impossible for him to reap any 
 Honour.' Spectator, No. 20. 
 
 The Sculptor was F. Bird. Sir Cloudesly Shovel died in 
 1707. 
 
 Page 145. Dr, Bushy! a great Man — he whipped my 
 
220 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Grandfather. Dr. Busby was head master of Westminster 
 School for Fifty-five years, and had the credit of having fur- 
 nished both the church and the state with a greater number 
 of eminent scholars than any other pedagogue. At the Res- 
 toration he was made a Prebendary of Westminster, and 
 carried the sacred ampulla at the Coronation of Charles the 
 second. He was eighty-nine years old when he died, in 
 1695. His monument, sculptured by Bird, stands not far 
 from that of Sir Cloudesly Shovel. 
 
 Page 145. The Statesman Cecil upon his Knees. In the 
 chapel of St. Nicholas. This tomb was erected by the great 
 Lord Burleigh, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, to the mem- 
 ory of his wife Mildred and their daughter Anne, whose 
 effigies lie under a carved arch. ' At the base of the monu- 
 ment, within Corinthian columns, are kneeling figures of 
 Sir Robert Cecil, their son, and three grand-daughters. The 
 inscription is in Latin, very long and very tiresome.' Peter 
 Cunningham'' s Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Page 145. That Martyr to good Housewifry who died with 
 the prick of a Needle. This is one of the 'hundred lies' 
 which the attendant is said to have told Goldsmith's Citizen 
 of the World 'without blushing.' The monument, in St. 
 Edmund's Chapel, is that of Elizabeth, youngest daughter of 
 Lord John Russel (temp. 1584). ' The figure is melanchol- 
 ily inclining her Cheek to her Right Hand, and with the 
 Fore-finger of her Left directing us to behold the Death's 
 Head placed at her Feet.' (Keepe Monaf. Westm.) This 
 alone is said to have originated an unwarrantable verdict of 
 ' died from the prick of a needle.' 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 221 
 
 Page 146. The Stone was called Jacob'' s Pillar ['pilloio']. 
 This is the stone or ' Marble fatal Chair' which Gathelus, 
 son of Crecops, King of Athens, is said to have sent from 
 Spain with his son when he invaded Ireland ; and which 
 Fergus, son of Gyric, won there and conveyed to Cove. The 
 ston3 was set into a chair in which the kings of Scotland 
 were crowned, till Edward the First offered it, with other por- 
 tions of the Scottish Regalia, at the shrine of Edward the 
 Confessor as an evidence of his absolute conquest of Scot- 
 land. A Leonine Couplet was cut in the stone which has 
 been thus translated : 
 
 ' The Scots shall brook that Realm as native ground 
 (If Weirds fail not) wherever this stone is found.' 
 
 This prophecy was fulfilled, to the satisfaction of the foithful 
 in prophecy, by the accession of James VI. to the English 
 Crown. How it got the name of Jacob's pillow is difficult 
 to trace. It is a piece of common rough Scotch sandstone ; 
 and Sir Roger's question was extremely pertinent. — The 
 other coronation chair was placed in the Abbey in the reign 
 of William and Mary. 
 
 Page 146. Sir Roger, in the next Place, laid his hand 
 upon Edward the Third'' s Sword. This, ' The monumental 
 sword that conquered France,' is placed with his shield near 
 the Tomb of Edward, and which he caused to be carried 
 before him in France. The sword is seven feet long, and 
 weighs eighteen pounds. 
 
 Page 147. The Figure of one of our English Kings with- 
 out a Head. The effigy of Henry V. which was plated with 
 
222 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 silver except the head, and that was of solid metal. At the 
 dissolution of the monasteries the figure was stripped of its 
 plating, and the head stolen. 
 
 Chap. XXIII. Sir Roger at the Play. 
 
 Spectator, No. 335. Tuesday, March 25, 1712, By 
 Addison. 
 
 Page 148. He had a great mind to see the new Tragedy. 
 This was the Distressed Mother by Ambrose, otherwise ' Pas- 
 toral ' Philips : and, as it was advertised in the above num- 
 ber of the Spectator to be performed for the sixth time. Sir 
 Roger must be supposed to have witnessed its fifth perform- 
 ance. The ' first night ' is thus announced in the Spectator 
 and in the Daily Courant of 17th March, 1712. 
 
 'By Desire of several Ladies of Quality; by Her Majes- 
 ty's Company of Comedians : 
 
 ' At the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, this present Monday, 
 being 17th March, will be presented a new Tragedy called 
 
 'THE DISTRESSED MOTHER, 
 ' (By Her Majesty's Command no person will be admitted 
 behind the scenes.) 
 
 * Pyrrhus, Mr. Booth. Andromache, Mrs. Oldfield. 
 
 PhcEnix, Mr. Bowman. Cephisa, Mrs. Knight. 
 
 Orestes, Mr. Powell. Hermione, Mrs. Porter. 
 
 Pylades, Mr. Mills. Cleone, Mrs. Cox.' 
 
 Addison had a strong friendship for Philips, and took 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 223 
 
 extraordinary pains, first to get his friend's play upon the 
 Stage, and next to make it succeed ; for, according to Spence 
 he caused the house to be packed on the first night. No. 290 
 of the Spectator opens with a puff preliminary : 
 
 ' The Players, who know I am very much their Friend, 
 take all Opportunities to express a Gratitude to me for being 
 so. They could not have a better Occasion of obliging me, 
 than one which they lately took hold of. They desired my 
 Friend Will. Honeycomb to bring me to the Reading of a 
 new Tragedy, it is called TJie Distressed Mother. I must con- 
 fess, tho' some Days are passed since I enjoyed that Entertain- 
 ment, the Passions of the several Characters dwell strongly 
 upon my Imagination ; and I congratulate the Age, that they 
 are at last to see Truth and humane Life represented in the 
 Incidents which concern Heroes and Heroines. The Stile of 
 the Play is such as becomes those of the first Education, and 
 the Sentiments worthy those of the highest Figure. It was 
 a most exquisite Pleasure to me, to observe real Tears drop 
 from the Eyes of those who had long made it their Profes- 
 sion to dissemble Affliction : and the Player, who read, fre- 
 quently threw down the Book till he had given Yent to the 
 Humanity which rose in him at some irresistible Touches of 
 the imagined Sorrow.' 
 
 Whoever dips into this turgid translation of Racine's An- 
 dromache will be much amused at the green-room grief it is 
 said to have drawn forth. Like many a worse play, some of 
 its success was occasioned by the Epilogue as delivered by 
 Mrs. Oldfield. 'This was the most successful composition 
 
224 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 of the kind ever yet,' says Johnson, ' spoken on the English 
 theatre. The three first nights it was recited twice ; and not 
 only continued to be demanded through the run, as it is 
 termed, of the play ; but whenever it is recalled to the stage 
 where by peculiar fortune, though a copy from the French, it 
 keeps its place, the Epilogue is still expected and still 
 spoken.' Its reputed author was Budgell ; but when Addi- 
 son was asked how such a silly fellow could write so well ? 
 he replied, ' The Epilogue was quite another thing when I 
 saw it first.' Tonson published the play; and when it was 
 first printed, Addison's name appeared to the Epilogue ; but 
 happening to come into the shop early in the morning when 
 the copies were to be issued, he ordered the credit of it to be 
 given to Budgell ' that it might add weight to the solicitation 
 which he was then making for a place,' This story was told 
 to Garrick by a member of the Tonson family. The pro- 
 logue was by Steele. 
 
 Page 148. The Committee — a good Church-of-England 
 Play. This comedy, written by Sir Robert Howard, was 
 popular so early as 1663. Pepys, in his diary of that year, 
 under June 12 writes — 'To the Theatre Royal, and there 
 saw The Committee^ a merry but indiflferent play ; only 
 Lacy's part, an Irish Footman, is beyond imagination.' 
 Posterity has not ratified Pepys's criticism as to the ' indif- 
 ference ' of The Committee, for it kept possession of the 
 stage in one form or another till very lately. The part of 
 Teague was always the greatest favourite, and gave to the 
 Comedy the second title of ' The Faithful Irishman.' After 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 225 
 
 Lacy it was filled with most applause by Leigh, whom 
 Charles the Second called ' his Comedian : ' Griffin and 
 Bowman respectively succeeded to it, and then the sponsor of 
 the well-known jest book, Joe Miller; of whom a mezzotint 
 likeness as Teague is still extant. The Committee^ cut 
 down to a farce, was till lately played under the title of 
 Honest Thieves. 
 
 Much of its earlier celebrity was due to the political 
 allusions in which The Committee abounds — to its being, in 
 the words of Sir Roger, ' a good Church-of-England Play.' 
 Sir R. Howard wrote it to satirize, in the character of 
 Obadiah, the proceedings of the Roundheads ; and at the 
 faintest dawn of religious excitement its announcement in the 
 play-bills was, even in Sir Roger's time, sure to attract 
 large audiences. Some five-and-twenty years before, when 
 James the Second attempted to inflict popery upon Oxford, 
 an interpolation by Leigh — who was playing Teague in that 
 city — caused an intense commotion. The head of University 
 College, Walker, (whose first name was the same as that of 
 the chief part in the play — Obadiah) had gone so far, in 
 obedience to the wishes of the king, as to introduce popish 
 rites, and to turn his college into a Catholic seminary. This 
 brought upon him great indignation, a tremendous burst of 
 which was vented after Leigh's exploit : — towards the end 
 of the Comedy, Teague has to haul in Obadiah with a halter 
 about liis neck, and to threaten to hang him for refusing to 
 drink the king's health. ' Here,' says Colley Cibber, ' Leigh, 
 to justify his purpose with a stronger provocation, put him- 
 15 
 
226 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 self into a more than ordinary heat with his captive ; and, 
 having heightened his master's curiosity to know what 
 Obadiah had done to deserve such usage, Leigh, folding 
 his arms with a ridiculous stare of astonishment, replied : 
 "Upon my shoul, he has shange his religion!"' The 
 allusion was caught up and ran around like wild fire ; the 
 theatre was suddenly in an uproar of applause. The play 
 was stopped. Some of the audience rushed from the theatre, 
 in open riot, to revile Obadiah Walker under his own win- 
 dows. Afterwards lampoons abounded, and satirical ballads 
 were publickly sung ; the most popular of which began : — 
 
 ' Old Obadiah 
 Sings Ave Maria.' 
 
 This adventure was the first intimation the king received 
 of the disaffection of his Oxford subjects to the popish pro- 
 ceedings he had set on foot there. He caused Leigh to be 
 severely reprimanded ; and, for fear of the worst, sent down 
 a regiment of dragoons to keep the Protestant ' town and 
 gown' in check. It is not impossible that Addison may 
 have assisted in this riot ; for he had entered as a student 
 at Queen's College about a year before it happened. 
 
 Page 148. Would there not be some danger on coming 
 home late, in case the Muhocks should be abroad? It had been 
 for many previous years the favourite amusement of dissolute 
 young men to form themselves into clubs and associations 
 for the cowardly pleasure of fighting and sometimes maiming 
 harmless pedestrians, and even defenceless women. They 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 2*27 
 
 took various slang designations. At the Restoration they 
 were Muns and Tityre-Tus ; then Hectors and Scourers ; * 
 later still, Nickers (whose expensive delight it was to smash 
 windows with showers of halfpence), Hawkabites, and lastly 
 Mohocks. These last took their title from ' a sort of canni- 
 bals in India who subsist by plundering and devouring all 
 the nations about them.'f Nor was the designation inapt; 
 for if there was one sort of brutality on which they prided 
 themselves more than another, it was in tattooing ; or slash- 
 ing people's faces with, as Gay wrote, ' new invented 
 wounds.' Their other exploits were quite as savage as 
 those of their predecessors, although they aimed at dashing 
 their m'schief v^-ith wit and originality. They began the 
 evening at their clubs, by drinking to excess in order to 
 inflame what little courage they possessed. They then 
 sallied forth sword in hand. Some enacted the part of 
 'dancing masters,' by thrusting their rapiers between the 
 legs of sober citizens, in such a fashion as to make them cut 
 the most grotesque capers. The Hunt spoken of by Sir 
 Roger was commenced by a ' view hallo ! ' and as soon as 
 the savage pack had run down their victim, they surrounded 
 him, to form a circle with the points of their swords. One 
 gave him a puncture in the rear which naturally made him 
 
 * 'Pish, this is Nothing. Why, I knew the Hectors, and liefore 
 them the Muns and Tityre-Tus : they were Brave Fellows indeed. 
 In those Days a Man could not go from the Rose Tavern to the 
 Piazza once, but he must venture his life twice.' — The Scourers, by 
 Shadicell. 
 
 t Spectator, No. 324. 
 
228 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 wheel about, then came a prick from another, and so they 
 kept him spinning like a top, till in their mercy they chose 
 to let him go free. An adventure of this kind is narrated 
 in No. 332 of the Spectator. Another savage diversion was 
 thrusting women into barrels, and rolling them down Snow 
 or Ludgate Hill : Gay sings 
 
 ' their Mischiefs done 
 
 Wherefrom Snow Hill black steepy torrents run ; 
 How Matrons hoop'd within a Hogshead's Womb 
 Were tumbled furious thence ; the falling Tomb 
 O'er the Stones thunders ; bounds from Side to Side : 
 So Regulus to save his Country dy'd.' 
 
 At the date of the present Spectator, the outrages of the 
 Mohocks were so intolerable, that they became the subject 
 of a Royal Proclamation, issued on the 18th March, just a 
 week before Sir Roger's visit to Drury Lane. Swift, who 
 was horribly afraid of them, mentions some of their villa- 
 nies. He writes two days previously, that ' Two of the 
 Mohocks caught a Maid of old Lady Winchelsea's at the 
 Door of her House in the Park, with a Candle, and had 
 just lighted out Somebody. They cut all her Face, and 
 beat her without any Provocation.' 
 
 The proclamation had little effect. On the very day after 
 our party went to the play, we find Swift exclaiming, ' They 
 go on still, and cut people's faces every night! but they 
 shan't cut mine ; I like it better as it is.' 
 
 Page 150. The same Sword that he made use of at the 
 Battle of Steenkirk. This battle was remarkable in the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 229 
 
 annals of fashion, for giving the name to a modish neck-cloth. 
 At the beginning of August, 1692, while William the Third 
 was in Flanders at the head of the allies, he discovered an 
 enemy's spy in his camp, and to facilitate a project of sur- 
 prising the French, his majesty caused him to give his 
 master false information. The king then set upon the enemy 
 at day-break, while they were asleep, and routed tliem. The 
 French generals however rallied, and formed their troops on 
 favourable ground, turned the tables, and finally conquered. 
 The allies were so crest-fallen and disunited by this defeat, 
 that William broke up the Campaign and retired to Eng- 
 land. The French M'cre as much elated. Their generals, 
 amongst whom were the Prince de Conde and the Duke de 
 Vendome, were received in Paris with acclamation, and the 
 roads were lined with jubilants. The ■pftits maitres shared 
 in the general exultation, and although at that time it was 
 their pride to arrange their lace cravats with the utmost 
 elaboration and care ; yet, when they heard of the disordered 
 dress in which the generals appeared in the fight, from theiir 
 haste to get into it, they suddenly changed the fashion, and 
 wore a sort of lace neglige, which they called a ' Steinkirk.' 
 The fashion soon extended to England, and for several years 
 the ' Steinkirk ' was your fop's only wear. 
 
 Chap. XXIV. Sir Roger at Vauxhall. 
 
 No. 383, Tuesday, May 20, 1712. By Addison. 
 
 Page 154. I had promised to go with him on the Water to 
 IG 
 
230 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Spring- Garden. Fox-hall or Vauxhall Gardens were a sub- 
 stitute for Old Spring Gardens, Charing Cross, when the 
 latter ceased to be a place of public entertainment, and began 
 to be covered with private residences. The name was 
 derived from a ' Spring' which supplied a jet, 'by a wheel 
 which the gardener turns at a distance, through a number 
 of little pipes.' {Hentzner's Travels.) The jet was con- 
 cealed, and did not spurt forth until an unwary visitor trod 
 on a particular spot, when there came a self-administered 
 shower bath. This, with archery, bowls, a grove of ' war- 
 bling birds,' a pleasant yard and a pond for bathing, furnished 
 the amusements. ' Sometimes,' says Evelyn, ' they would 
 have music, and sup on barges on the water.' 
 
 At the Restoration, builders invaded Spring Gardens, and 
 its name was transferred to Yauxhall Gardens, which formed 
 part of the estate of Sir Samuel Morland, who had already 
 (in 1667) built a large room there. Except the Spring, the 
 amusements were nearly the same as in the old garden. The 
 ' close walks ' were an especial attraction for other reasons 
 than the nightingales, which, in their proper season, warbled 
 in the trees. ' The windings and turnings in the little wil- 
 derness,' quoth Tom Brown, ' are so intricate, that the most 
 experienced mothers have often lost themselves in looking 
 for their daughters.' We hear little of Vauxhall from the 
 year of Sir Roger's visit (1712) till 1732, when it was 
 resuscitated by Mr. Jonathan Tyers : he termed it Ridotto al 
 Fresco, collected an efficient orchestra, set up an organ, 
 engaged Hogarth and Roubillac to decorate the great room 
 with paintings and statuary, and issued silver season tickets 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 231 
 
 at a guinea each. From his time, till about ten or fifteen 
 years' since, Yauxhall retained its popularity. 
 
 Page 157. A great deal of the like Thames ribaldry. 
 The ' silent highway ' was peculiarly favourable for that 
 interchange of wit and repartee, in which the lower orders, 
 and even facetious people of quality, loved to indulge. Tay- 
 lor, the water poet, Sw^ift, and Dr. Johnson, have bequeathed 
 to us some of these smart sayings ; but they are too coarse 
 for repetition. 
 
 Chap. XXV. Will Honeycomb on Widows. 
 No. 359. Tuesday, April 22nd, 1712. By Budgell. 
 
 Chap. XXVL Sir Roger passeth away. 
 
 Spectator, No. 517. Thursday, Oct. 23, 1712. By Addi- 
 son. 
 
 Page 164. To keep them no longer in suspense, Sir Rogek 
 DE CovERLEY IS Dead. ' Mr. Addison was so fond of this 
 character, that a little before he laid down the Spectator 
 (foreseeing that some nimble gentleman would catch up his 
 pen the moment he quitted it) he said to our intimate friend 
 with a certain warmth in his expression, which he was not 
 often guilty of, "I'll kill Sir Roger, that nobody else may 
 murder him." ' The Bee, p. 26. 
 
 On this Chalmers sensibly remarks that, ' the killing of 
 Sir Roger has been sufficiently accounted for, without sup- 
 posing that Addison despatched him in a fit of anger ; for 
 the work was about to close, and it appeared necessary to 
 
232 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 close the club ; but whatever diiference of opinion there may 
 be concerning- this circumstance, it is universally agreed that 
 it produced a paper of transcendent excellence in all the 
 graces of simplicity and pathos. There is not in our lan- 
 guage any assumption of character more faithful than that of 
 the honest butler ; nor a more irresistible stroke of nature 
 than the circumstance of the book received by Sir Andrew 
 Freeport. ' 
 
 Budgell's story is another version of the reason Cervantes 
 gave for killing his hero; para mi sola nacio Don Quixote, y 
 yo para el. Shakespere's motive for the early demise of 
 Mercutio in the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet has been 
 accounted for by a similar fiction. 
 
 Page 167. Captain Sentry, my Master^s Nephew, has 
 taken possession of the Hall-House, and the ivhole Estate, 
 The 544th Number of the Spectator (Nov. 24th, 1712) con- 
 tains a letter from the new Esquire, in which he says, ' I 
 cannot reflect upon his [Sir Roger's] character, but I am 
 confirmed in the truth which I have, I think, heard spoken 
 at the club ; to wit, That a Man of a warm and well-dis- 
 posed Heait. with a very small Capacity, is highly superior 
 in human Society to him who, with the greatest Talents, 
 is cold and languid in his Affections. But, alas ! why do 
 I make a difficulty in speaking of my worthy Ancestor's 
 Failings 1 His little Absurdities and Incapacity for the Con- 
 versation of the Politest Men are dead with him, and his 
 greater Qualities are even now useful to him. I know not 
 whether by naming those Disabilities, I do not enhance his 
 Merit, since he has left behind him a Reputation in his 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 233 
 
 Country wliich would be worth the pams of the wisest Man's 
 whole Life to arrive at.' — 'I have continued all Sir Roger's 
 servants, except such as it was a relief to dismiss unto little 
 livings within my manour ; those who are in a list of the 
 good Knight's own hand, to be taken care of by me, I have 
 quartered upon such as have taken new leases of me, and 
 added so many advantages during the lives of the persons so 
 quartered, that it is the interest of those whom they are 
 joined with, to cherish and befriend them on all occasions.' 
 
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