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High Epidaurus urges on my speed,

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery Famid for his hills, and for his horses' breed :

So right his shaft he set, From bills and dales the cheerful cries rebound;

The grey-goose wing that was thereum
For Echo hunts along, and propagates the sound. -DEYDEN

In his heart-blood was wet
Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come,

This fight did last from break of day
His men in armour bright;

Till setting of the sun;
Full twenty hundred Scottish spears,

For when they rang the ev'ning bell
All marching in our sight.

The battle scarce was done.
All men of pleasant Tividale,

One may observe, likewise, that in the catalogue of
Fast by the river Tweed, &c

the slain, the author has followed the example of the The country of the Scotch warriors, described in great ancient poets, not only in giving a long '1% of these two last verses, has a fine romantic situation, the dead, but by diversifying it with little characters and affords a couple of smooth words for verse. If of particular persons. the reader compares the foregoing six lines of the

And with Earl Douglas there was slain song with the following Latin verses, he will see how

Sir Hugh Montgomery, much they are written in the spirit of Virgil:

Sir Charles Carrel, that from the field

One foot would never fly:
Adversi campo apparent, bustasque reductis
Protendunt longe dextris; et spicula vibrant:-

Sir Charles Murrel of Ratcliffe too,
Quique alturn Præneste viri, quique arva Gabinæ

His sister's son was he: Juncois, gelidumque Anienem, et roscida rivis

Sir David Lamb so well esteem'd,
Hernica saxa colunt:qui rosea rura Velini,

Yet saved could not be
Qui Tetricæ horrentes rupes, montemque Severum,
Casperiamque colunt, Forulusque et flumen Himella:

The familiar sound in these names destroys the maQu Tiberim Fabarimque bibunt,

jesty of the description; for this reason I do not Æn. xi. 605. viii. 682. 712 mention this part of the poem but to shew the natuAdvancing in a line, they couch their spears

ral cast of thought which appears in it, as the two Præneste sends a chosen band,

last verses look almost like a translation of Virgil. With those who plough Saturnia's Gabine land: Besides the succours which cold Anien yields;

-Cadit et Ripheus justissimus unus The rocks of Hernicus besides a band,

Qui fuit in Teucris et servantissimus æqui. That followed from Velinum's dewy land

Diis aliter visum

En. ii. 426 And mountaineers that from Severus came :

Then Ripheus fell in the unequal fight, And from the craggy cliffs of Tetrica;

Just of his word, observant of the right :
And those where yellow Tiber takes his way,

Heav'n thought not so.--DRYDEN.
And where Himelia's wanton waters play:
Casperis sends her arms, with those that lie

In the catalogue of the English who fell, WitherBy Fabaris, and fruitful Forull.-DRYDEN

ington's behaviour is in the same manner particuBut to proceed:

larized very artfully, as the reader is prepared for it

by that account which is given of him in the begin. Earl Douglas on a milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold,

ping of the battle; though I am satisfied your little Rode foremost of the company

buffoon readers (who have seen that passage ridiWhose armour shone like gold.

culed in Hudibras) will not be able to take the Turnus ut antevolans tardum præcesserat agmen, &c beauty of it; for which reason I dare not so much Vidisti, quo Turnus equo, quibus ibat in armis :

as quote it. Aureus

Æn. ix. 47. 269.

Then stept a gallant 'squire forth,
Our English archers bent their bows,
Their bearts were good and true;

Witherington was his name.

Who said, I would not have it told
At the first flight of arrows sent,

To Henry our king for shame,
Full threescore Scots they slew

That e'er my captain fought on foot,
They clos'd full fast on every side,

And I stood looking on.
No slackness there was sound;
And many a gallant gentleman

We meet with the same heroic sentiment in Virgil.
Lay gasping on the ground.

Non pudet, O Rutuli, cunctis pro talibus unam
With that there came an arrow keen

Objectare animam ? numerone an viribus æqui
Out of an English bow,

Non sumus? En. xii. 229.
Which strack Earl Douglas to the heart,
A deep and deadly blow.

For shame, Rutilians, can you bear the sight

of one expos'd for all, in single fight? Eneas was wounded after the same manner by an Can we belore the face of heav'n confess unknown hand in the midst of a parley.

Our courage colder, or our numbers less ?-DRYDEN, Has inter voces, media inter talia verba,

What can be more natural, or more moving, than Ecee viro stridens alis allapsa sagitta est,

the circumstances in which he describes the beha. Incertum qua pulsa manu-&n, xii. 318.

viour of those women who had lost their husbands Thus, while he spake, unmindful of defence,

on this fatal day? A winged arrow struck the pious prince; But whether from a human hand it came,

Next day did many widows come Or bostile god, is left unknown by fame.--DRYDEN.

Their husbands to bewail ;

They wash'd their wounds in brinish tears, But of all the descriptive parts of this song, there

But all would not prevail. are none more beautiful than the four following Their bodies bathed in purple blood, stanzas, which have a great force and spirit in them,

They bore with them away ; and are filled with very natural circumstances. The

They kiss'd them dead a thousand times,

When they were clad'a clay. thought in the third stanza was never touched by any other poet, and is such a one as would have Thus we see how the thoughts of this poem, which shined in Homer or in Virgil:

naturally arise from the subject, are always simple, So thus did both these pobles die,

and sometimes exquisitely noble; that the language Whose courage none could stain;

is often very sounding, and that the whole is written An English archer then perceivid

with a true poetical spirit.
The noble Earl was slain.

If this song had been written in the Gothic man-
He tad a bow bent in his hand,
Made of a trusty tree,

ner, which is the delight of all our little wits whether ha arrow of a cloth-yard long.

writers or readers, it would not have hit the taste of Unto to head drew be.

80 many ages, and have pleased the readers of all

ranks anu conditions. I shall only beg pardon for riage of a well-bred man. I did not, I confess, exsuch a profusion of Latin quotations; which I should plain myself enough on this subject, when I called not have made use of, but that I feared my own Doriman: a clown, and made it an instance of it, judgment would have looked too singular on such a that he called the orange wench Double Tripe: I subject, had not I supported it by the practice and should have shewn, that humanity obliges a gentleauthority of Virgil.-C.

man to give no part of human kind reproach, for what they, whom they reproach, may possibly have in common with the most virtuous and wortby

amongst us. When a gentleman speaks coarsely, he No. 73 SATURDAY, MAY 26, 1711.

has dressed himself clean to no purpose. The cloth

ing of our minds certainly ought to be regarded Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et status, et res. before that of our bodies. To betray in a man's

HOR, 1 Ep. xvü. 23.

talk a corrupt imagination, is a much greater of All fortune fitted Aristippus well-CREECH.

fence against the conversation of gentlemen than It is with some mortification that I suffered the any negligence of dress imaginable. But this sense raillery of a fine lady of my acquaintance, for call of the matter is so far from being received among ing, in one of my papers, * 'Dorimant a clown. She people of condition, that Vocifer even passes for å was so unmerciful as to take advantage of my invin- fine gentleman. He is loud, haughty, gentle, soft

, cible taciturnity, and on that occasion with great lewd, and obsequious by turns, just as a little underfreedom to consider the air, the height, the face, the standing and great impudence prompt him at the gesture of him, who could pretend to judge so arro- present moment. He passes among the silly part gantly of gallantry. She is full of motion, jaunty of our women for a man of wit, because he is geneaud lively in her impertinence, and one of those rally in doubt. He contradicts with a shrug, and that commonly pass, among the ignorant, for per- confutes with a certain sufficiency, in professing sons who have a great deal of humour. She had the such and such a thing is above his capacity. What play of Sir Fopling in her hand, and after she had makes his character the pleasanter is, that he is a said it was happy for her there was not so charming professed deluder of women ; and because the empty a creature as Dorimant now living, she began with coxcomb has no regard to any thing that is of itself a theatrical air and tone of voice to read, by way of sacred and inviolable, I have heard an unmarried triumph over me, some of his speeches. “T'is she! lady of fortune say, it is a pity so fine a gentleman that lovely air, that easy shape, those wanton eyes, as Vocifer is so great an atheist. The crouds of and all those inelting charms about her mouth, such inconsiderable creatures, that infest all places which Medley spoke of; I'll follow the lottery, and assembling, every reader will have in his eye from put in for a prize with my friend Bellair.”

his own observation ; but would it not be worth conIn love the victors from the vanquish'd fly;

sidering what sort of figure a man who formed bimThey fly that wound, and they wound that die!

self upon those principles among us which are Then turning over the leaves, she reads alternately, would make in the familiar and ordinary occurren

agreeable to the dictates of honour and religion and speaks :

ces of life? And you and Loveit to her cost shall find

I hardly have observed any one fill his several duI fathom all the depths of woman-kind.

ties of life better than Ignotus. All the under Oh the fine gentleman! But here, continues she, is parts of his behaviour, and such as are exposed to the passage I admire most, where he begins to tease common observation, have their rise in him from Loveit, and mimic Sir Fopling. Oh, the pretty great and noble motives. A firm and unshaken ersatire, in his resolving to be a coxcomb to please, pectation of another life makes him become this; since noise and nonsense have such powerful charms. humanity and good-nature, fortified by the sense of I, that I may successful prove,

virtue, have the same effect upon bim as the neglect Transform myself to what you love.

of all goodness has upon many others. Being Then how like a man of the town, so wild and gay certain inattention which makes men's actions look

firmly established in all matters of importance, that is that!

easy, appears in him with greater beauty : by a thoThe wise will find a diffrence in our fate,

rough contempt of little excellences, he is perfectly You wed a woman, I a good estate.

master of them. This temper of mind leaves him It would have been a very wild endeavour for a man under no necessity of studying his air, and he has of my temper to offer any opposition to so nimble a this peculiar distinction, that his negligence is speaker as my fair enemy is; but her discourse gave

unaffected. me very many reflections when I had left her com He that can work himself into a pleasure in con. pany. Among others, I could not but consider sidering this being as an uncertain one, and think with some attention, the false impressions the gene- to reap an advantage by its discontinuance, is in a rality (the fair sex more especially) have of what fair way of doing all things with a graceful unconshould be intended, when they say a "fine gentle cern, and a gentleman-like ease. Such a one does man;" and could not help revolving that subject in not behold his life as a short transient perplexing my thoughts, and settling, as it were, an idea of state, made up of trilling pleasures and great that character in my own imagination.

anxieties; but sees it in quite another light: his No man ought to have the esteem of the rest of griefs are momentary and his joys immortal. Rethe world, for any actions which are disagreeable to flection upon death is not a gloomy and sad thought those maxims which prevail as the standards of be- of resigning every thing that he delights in, but it is haviour in the country wherein he lives What is a short night followed by an endless day. What I opposite to the eternal rules of reason and good would here contend for is, that the more virtuous sense, must be excluded from any place in the car- the man is, the nearer he will naturally be to the

character of genteel and agreeable. A man whose • Spect No 65.

fortune is plentiful, shows an ease in his countenance,

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and confidence in his behaviour, which he that is himself neglected by his new acquaintance as soon under wants and difficulties cannot assume. It is as they had hopes of growing great; and used on thes with the state of the mind; he that governs his such occasions to remark, that it was a great inthoughts with the everlasting rules of reason and justice to tax princes of forgetting themselves in sense, must bave something so inexpressibly grace their high fortunes, when there were so few that ful in his words and actions, that every circumstance could with constancy bear the favour of their very must become him. The change of persons or things creatures." My author in these loose hints has one around himn does not at all alter his situation, but he passage that gives us a very lively idea of the uncom'coks disinterested in the occurrences with which mon genius of Pharamond. He met with one man achers are distracted, because the greatest purpose of whom he had put to all the usual proofs he made of his life is to maintain an indifference both to it and those he had a mind to know thoroughly, and found all its enjoyments. In a word, to be a fine gentle. him for his purpose. In discourse with him one man is to be a generous and a brave man. What day, he gave him an opportunity of saying how can enake a man so much in constant good humour, much would satisfy all his wishes. The prince imand shine, as we call it, than to be supported by mediately revealed himself, doubled the sum, and what can never fail him, and to believe that what spoke to him in this manner: “Sir, you have twice ever happens to him was the best thing that possibly what you desired, by the favour of Pharamond; but could befal him, or else he on whom it depends look to it, that you are satisfied with it, for it is the would not have permitted it to have befallen him at lastıyou shall ever receive. I from this moment conall !-R.

sider you as mine; and to make you truly so, I give

you my royal word you shall never be greater or No. 76.) MONDAY, MAY 28, 1711.

less than you are at present. Answer me not (con

cluded the prince, smiling), but enjoy the fortune I Ut ta fortunam, sic nos te, Celce, feremus.

have put you in, which is above my own condition; Hor, I Ep. viii. 17.

for you have hereafter nothing to hope or to fear.” As you your fortune bear, we will bear you.—CREECH.

His majesty having thus well chosen and bought There is nothing so common as to find a man, a friend and companion, he enjoyed alternately all whom in the general observation of his carriage you the pleasures of an agreeable private man, and a take to be of a uniform temper, subject to such unac- great and powerful monarch. He gave himself, countable starts of humour and passion, that he is as with his companion, the name of the merry tyrant; much unlike himself, and differs as much from the for he punished his courtiers for their insolence and man you at first thought him, as any two distinct folly, not by any act of public disfavour, but by hu. persons can differ from each other. This proceeds morously practising upon their imaginations. If he from the want of forming some law of life to our observed a man untractable to his inferiors, he would selves, or fixing some notion of things in general, find an opportunity to take some favourable notice which may affect us in such a manner as to create of him, and render him insupportable. He knew proper habits both in our minds and bodies. The all his own looks, words, and actions had their internegligence of this leaves us exposed not only to an pretations; and his friend Monsieur Eucrate (for so unbecoming levity in our usual conversation, but he was called) having a great soul without ambition, also to the same instability in our friendships, in- he could communicate all his thoughts to him, and terests, and alliances. A man who is but a mere fear no artful use would be made of that freedom. spectator of what passes around him, and not en. It was no small delight when they were in private, gaged in commerces of any consideration, is but an ill to reflect upon all which had passed in public. judge of the secret motions of the heart of man, and Pharamond would often, to satisfy a vain fool of by what degrees it is actuated to make such visible power in his country, talk to him in a full court, alterations in the same person : but, at the same and with one whisper make him despise all his old time, when a man is no way concerned in the effect friends and acquaintance. He was come to that of such inconsistencies in the behaviour of men of knowledge of men by long observation, that he would the world, the speculation must be in the utmost de profess altering the whole mass of blood in some gree both diverting and instructive; yet to enjoy tempers, by thrice speaking to them. As fortune such observations in the highest relish, he ought to was in his power, he gave himself constant enter. be placed in a post of direction, and have the deal. tainment in inanaging the mere followers of it with ings of their fortunes to them. I have therefore the treatment they deserved. He would by a skilful been wonderfully diverted with some pieces of secret cast of his eye, and half a smile, make two fellows history, which an antiquary, my very good friend, who hated, embrace, and fall upon each other's lent me as a curiosity. They are memoirs of the necks, with as much eagerness as if they followed private life of Pharamond of France. “Phara- their real inclinations, and intended to stifle one mond,” says my author, “was a prince of infinite another. When he was in high good humour, he humanity and generosity, and at the same time the would lay the scene with Eucrate, and on a public most pleasant and facetious companion of his time. night exercise the passions of his whole court. He He had a peculiar taste in him, which would have was pleased to see a haughty beauty watch the looks been unlucky in any prince but himself; he thought of a man she had long despised, from observation of there could be no exquisite pleasure in conversation his being taken notice of by Pharamond; and the but among equals; and would pleasantly bewail him-lover conceive higher hopes than to follow the woman self that he always lived in a crowd, but was the he was dying for the day before. In a court, where only man in France that could nerer get into com men speak affection in the strongest terms, and dispany. This turn of mind made him delight in mid-like in the faintest, it was a comical mixture of incinigbt rambles, attended only with one person of his dents to see disguises thrown aside in one case, and bedehamber. He would in these excursions get ac increased on the other, according as favour or disquainted with men (whose temper he had a mind to grace attended the respective objects of men's ap try) and recommend them privately to the particular probation or disesteem. Pharamond, in his mirth observation of his first minister. He generally found upon the meanness of mankind, used to say, As bo

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could take away a man's five senses, he could give taken up with some violent passion, such as anger, him a hundred. The man in disgrace shall imme- fear, or love, which ties the mind to some distant obdiately lose all his natural endowments, and he that ject; or lastly, these distractions proceed from a finds favour have the attributes of an angel.” He certain vivacity and fickleness in a man's temper, would carry it so far as to say, “ It should not be which, while it raises up infinite numbers of ideas in only so in the opinion of the lower part of his court, the mind, is continually pushing it on, without al. but the men themselves shall think thus meanly or lowing it to rest on any particular image. Nothing greatly of themselves as they are out or in, the good therefore is more unnatural than the thoughts and graces of a court.

conceptions of such a man, which are seldom occaA monarch who had wit and humour, like Phara- sioned either by the company he is in, or any of those mond, must have pleasures which no man else can objects which are placed before him. While you ever have the opportunity of enjoying. He gave fancy he is admiring a beautiful woman, it is an even fortune to none but those whom he knew could re-wager that he is solving a proposition in Euclid: ceive it without transport. He made a noble and and while you may imagine he is reading the Paris generous use of his observations, and did not regard Gazette, it is far from being impossible that he is his ministers as they were agreeable to himself, but pulling down and rebuilding the front of his counas they were useful in his kingdom. By this means try-house. the king appeared in every officer of state; and no At the same time that I am endeavouring to exman had a participation of the power, who had not a pose this weakness in others, I shall readily confess similitude of the virtue of Pharamond.-R.

that I once laboured under the same infirmity my. self. The method I took to conquer it was a firm re

solution to learn something from whatever I was No. 77.] TUESDAY, MAY 29, 1711. obliged to see or hear. There is a way of thinking, Non convivere licet, nec urbe tota

if a man can attain to it, by which he may strike Quisquam est tam prope tam proculque nobis. somewhat out of any thing. I can at present ob

MART. Epig. i 87. serve those starts of good sense and struggles of unWhat correspondence can I hold with you, improved reason in the conversation of a clown, with Who are so near, and yet so distant too?

as much satisfaction as the most shining periods of My friend Will Honeycomb is one of those sort the most finished orator; and can make a shift to of men who are very absent in conversation, and command my attention at a puppet-show or an what the French call à reveur and à distrait. A little opera, as well as at Hamlet or Othello. I always before our club-time last night, we were walking to make one of the company I am in; for though I gether in Somerset-gardens, where Will picked up a say little myself, my attention to others, and tħose small pebble of so odd a make, that he said he would nods of approbation which I never bestow unmerited, present it to a friend of his, an eminent virtuoso. sufficiently show that I am among them. Whereas After we had walked some time, I made a full stop Will Honeycomb, though a fellow of good sense, is with my face towards the west, which will knowing every day doing and saying a hundred things, which to be my usual way of asking what's o'clock of an af he afterward confesses, with a well-bred frankness, ternoon, immediately pulled out his watch, and told were somewhat mal à propos and undesigned. me we had seven minutes good. We took a turn or I chanced the other day to get into a coffee-bouse two more, when to my great surprise, I saw him where Will was standing in the midst of several ausquirt away his watch a considerable way into the ditors, whom be had gathered round him, and was Thames, and with great sedateness in his looks put giving them an account of the person and character up the pebble he had before found into his fob. As I of Moll Hinton. My appearance before him just have naturally an aversion to much speaking, and do put him in mind of me, without making him reflect not love to be the messenger of ill news, especially that I was actually present. So that keeping his when it comes too late to be useful, I left him to be eyes full upon me, to the great surprise of his auconvinced of his mistake in due time, and continued dience, he broke off his first harangue, and proceeded my walk, reflecting on these little absences and dis- thus :—“Why now there's my friend,” mentioning tractions in mankind, and resolving to make them me by name," he is a fellow that thinks a great the subject of a future speculation.

deal, but never opens his mouth; I warrant you be I was the more confirmed in my design, when I is now thrusting his short face into some coffee-house considered that they were very often blemishes in about 'Change. I was his bail in the time of the the characters of men of excellent sense; and helped Popish plot, when he was taken up for a Jesuit.” If to keep up the reputation of that Latin proverb, he had looked on me a little longer, he bad certainly which Mr. Dryden has translated in the following what led him into it, that the whole company must

described me so particularly without ever considering lines : Great wit to madness sure is near allied,

necessarily have found me out; for which reason reAnd thin partitions do their bounds divide. membering the old proverb, “Out of sight out of My reader does, I hope, perceive, that I distin mind,” I left the room; and upon meeting him an guish a man who is absent, because he thinks of hour afterward, was asked by him, with a great deal something else, from one who is absent because he of good humour, in what part of the world I lived, thinks of nothing at all. The latter is too innocent that he had not seen me these three days. a creature to be taken notice of; but the distractions

Monsieur Bruyere has given us the character of of the former may, I believe, be generally accounted he has pushed to an agreeable extravagance : with

an absent man with a great deal of humour, which for from one of these reasons : Either their minds are wholly fixed on some par

the heads of it I shall conclude my present paper. ticular science, which is often the case with mathe- down in the morning, opens his door to go out. but

“Menalcas,” says that excellent author, maticians and other learned men; or are wholly shuts it again, because he perceives that he has his

• Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiæ.-Se-night-cap on; and examining himseit farther, finds neca De Tranquil. Anim. cap. xv.

that he is but half-shaved, that he has stuck bis

comes

sword on his right side, that his stockings are about them as I was. I have nothing to do in this day's his heels, and that his shirt is over his breeches. entertainment, but taking the sentence from the end When he is dressed, he goes to court, comes into the of the Cambridge letter, and placing it at the front drawing-room, and walking bolt upright under a of my paper, to shew the author I wish him my com. branch of candlesticks, his wig is caught by one of panion with as much carnestness as he invites me them, and hangs dangling in the air. All the cour-to be his. tiers fall a laughing, but Menalcas laughs louder “ Sir, than any of them, and looks about for the person “ I send you the enclosed, to be inserted (if you that is the jest of the company. Coming down to think them worthy of it) in your Spectators; in the court-gate he finds a coach, which taking for his which so surprising a genius appears, that it is no own, he whips into it; and the coachman drives off, wonder if all mankind endeavours to get somewhat pot doubting but he carries his master. As soon as into a paper which will always live. be stops, Menalcas throws himself out of the coach, As to the Cambridge affair, the humour was crosses the court, ascends the stair-case, and runs really carried on in the way I describe it. However, through all the chambers with the greatest famili- you have a full commission to put out or in, and to arity; reposes himself on a couch, and fancies him- do whatever you think fit with it. I have already self at home. The master of the house at last comes had the satisfaction of seeing you take that liberty in; Menalcas rises to receive him, and desires him with some things I have before sent you. Go on, to sit down; he talks, muses, and then talks again. Sir, and prosper. You have the best wishes of, Sir, The gentleman of the house is tired and amazed; your very affectionate, and obliged humble servant.” Menalcas is no less so, but is every moment in hopes “ MR. SPECTATOR,

Cambridge. that his impertinent guest will at last end his tedious “ You well know it is of great consequence to visit. Night comes on, when Menalcas is hardly clear titles, and it is of importance that it be done undeceived.

in the proper season ; on which account this is to " When he is playing at back-gammon, he calls assure you that the club of Ugly Faces was instifor a full glass of wine and water; it is his turn to tuted originally at Cambridge, in the merry reigu throm; he has the box in one hand, and his glass in of King Charles II. As in great bodies of men it the other; and being extremely dry, and unwilling is not difficult to find members enough for such a to lose time, he swallows down both the dice, and at club, so (I remember) it was then feared, upon their the same time throws his wine into the tables. He intention of dining together, that the Hall belongwrites a letter, and flings the sand into the ink-ing to Clare-hall, the ugliest then in the town bottle; he writes a second, and mistakes the super: (though now the neatest), would not be large enough scriptions. A nobleman receives one of them, and handsomely to bold the company. Invitations were apon opening it reads as follows: 'I would have made to very great numbers, but very few accepted you, honest Jack, immediately upon the receipt of them without much difficulty. One pleaded that this

, take in hay enough to serve me the winter.' being at London, in a bookseller's shop, a lady going His farmer receives the other, and is amazed to see by with a great belly longed to kiss him. He had in it My lord, I received your grace's commands, certainly been excused, but that evidence appeared, with an entire submission too.'- If he is at an enter that indeed one in London did pretend she longed tainment, you may see the pieces of bread continu- to kiss him, but that was only a pick-pocket, who ally multiplying round his plate. It is true the rest during his kissing her stole away all his money. of the company want it, as well as their knives and Another would have got off by a dimple in his chin; forks, which Menalcas does not let them keep long. but it was proved upon him, that he had, by coming Sometimes in a morning he puts his whole family in into a room, made a woman miscarry, and frighta burry, and at last goes out without being able to ened two children into fits. A third alleged, that he stay for his coach or dinner, and for that day you was taken by a lady for another gentleman, who was nay see him in every part of the town, except the one of the handsomest in the university; but upon very place where he had appointed to be upon busi-inquiry it was found that the lady had actually lost dess of importance. You would often take him for one eye, and the other was very much upon the deevery thing that he is not; for a fellow quite stupid, cline. A fourth produced letters out of the country for be hears nothing; for a fool, for be talks to bim- in his vindication, in which a gentleman offered him self, and bas a hundred grimaces and motions in his his daughter, who had lately fallen in love with him, head, which are altogether involuntary; for a proud with a good fortune : but it was made appear, that man, for he looks full upon you, and takes no notice the young lady was amorous, and had like to have of your salating him. The truth of it is, his eyes run away with her father's coachman-so that it was are open, but he makes no use of them, and neither supposed, that her pretence of falling in love with sees you—nor any man, nor any thing, else. He him, was only in order to be well married. It was came once from his country-house, and his own foot- pleasant to hear the several excuses which were men attempted to rob him, and succeeded. They made, insomuch that some made as much interest to held a flambeau to his throat, and bid him deliver be excused, as they would from serving sheriff; bis purse ; be did so, and coming home told his however, at last the society was formed, and proper freads he had been robbed; they desired to know officers were appointed; and the day was fixed for the particulars: 'Ask my servants,' says Menalcas, the entertainment, which was in venison season. A 'Hibey were with me.'”-X.

pleasant fellow of King's college (commonly called

Crab, from his sour look, and the only man whu did

not pretend to get off) was nominated for chaplain; R. WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 1711. and nothing was wanting but some one to sit in the

elbow chair by way of president, at the upper end inc als nu, stinam noster esses!

of the table; and there the business stuck, for there nu cal.so great a genius ours !

was no contention for superiority there. This affair abomag watters are so pleasant, that I doubt made so great a noise, that the King, who was then A hit the reader will be as much diverted with | at Newmarket, beard of it, and was pleased merrily

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