Æsop's Fables: but he frankly declared to me his mind, that he did not delight in that learning, because he did not believe they were true;' for which reason, I found, he had very much turned his studies, for about a twelvemonth past, into the lives and adventures of Don Bellianis of Greece, Guy of Warwick, the Seven Champions, and other historians of that age. I could not but observe the satisfaction the father took in the forwardness of his son; and that these diversions might turn to some profit, I found the boy had made remarks, which might have been of service to him during the course of his whole life. He would tell you the mismanagements of John Hickerthrift, find fault with the passionate temper in Bevis of Southampton, and loved Saint George for being the champion of England; and by this means had his thoughts insensibly moulded into the notions of discretion, virtue, and honour. I was extolling his accomplishments, when the mother told me, that the little girl who led me in this morning was in her way a better scholar than he. Betty." said she, deals chiefly in fairies and sprights; and sometimes in a winter-night will terrify the maids with her accounts, until they are afraid to go up to bed.' I sat with them until it was very late, sometimes in merry, sometimes in serious discourse, with this particular pleasure, which gives the only true relish to all conversation, a sense that every one of us liked each other. I went home, considering the different conditions of a married life and that of a bachelor; and I must confess it struck me with a secret concern, to reflect, that whenever I go off I shall leave no traces behind me. In this pensive mood I returned to my family; that is to say, to my maid, my dog, and my cat, who only can be the better or worse for what happens to me. No. 96.] SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1709. Is mihi demum vivere et frui animâ videtur, qui aliquo negotio intentus, præclari facinoris aut artis bonæ famam querit. Sall. Bel. Cat. In my opinion, he only may be truly said to live, and enjoy his being, who is engaged in some laudable pursuit, and acquires a name by some illustrious action, or useful art. From my own Apartment, November 17. It has cost me very much care and thought to marshal and fix the people under their proper denominations, and to range them according to their respective characters. These my endeavours have been received with unexpected success in one kind, but neglected in another: for, though I have many readers, I have but a few converts. This must certainly proceed from a false opinion, that what I write is designed rather to amuse and entertain, than convince and instruct. I entered upon my Essays with a declaration that I should consider mankind in quite another manner than they had hitherto been represented to the ordinary world; and asserted, that none but a useful life should be, with me, any life at all. But, lest this doctrine should have made this small progress towards the conviction of mankind, because it may have appeared to the unlearned light and whimsical, I must take leave to unfold the wisdom and antiquity of my first proposition in these my Essays, to wit, that every worthless man is a dead man.' This notion is as old as Pythagoras, in whose school it was a point of discipline, that if among the 'Ax51ì, or probationers, there were any who grew weary of studying to be useful, and returned to an idle life, they were to regard them as dead; and, upon their departing, to perform their obsequies, and raise them tombs, with inscriptions to warn others of the like mortality, and quicken them to resolutions of refining their souls above that wretched state. It is upon a like supposition, that young ladies, at this very time, in Roman catholic countries, are received into some nunneries with their coffins, and with the pomp of a formal funeral, to signify, that henceforth they are to be of no further use, and consequently dead. Nor was Pythagoras himself the first author of the symbol, with whom, and with the Hebrews, it was generally received. Much more might be offered in illustration of this doctrine from sacred authority, which I recommend to my reader's own reflection; who will easily recollect, from places which I do not think fit to quote here, the forcible manner of applying the words dead and living, to men as they are good or bad. I have, therefore, composed the following scheme of existence for the benefit both of the living and the dead; though chiefly for the latter, whom I must desire to read it with all possible attention. In the number of the dead I comprehend all persons, of what title or dignity soever, who bestow most of their time in eating and drinking, to support that imaginary existence of theirs, which they call life; or in dressing and adorning those shadows and apparitions, which are looked upon by the vulgar as real men and women. In short whoever resides in the world without having any business in it, and passes away an age without ever thinking on the errand for which he was sent thither, is to me a dead man, to all intents and purposes; and I desire that he may be so reputed. The living are only those that are some way or other laudably employed in the improvement of their own minds, or for the advantage of others; and even amongst these, I shall only reckon into their lives that part of their time which has been spent in the manner above-mentioned. By these means, I am afraid, we shall find the longest lives not to consist of many months, and the greatest part of the earth to be, quite unpeopled. According to this system, we may observe, that some men are born at twenty years of age, some at thirty, some at threescore, and some not above an hour before they die: nay, we may observe multitudes that die without ever being born, as well as many dead persons that fill up the bulk of mankind, and make a better figure in the eyes of the ignorant, thau those who are alive, and in their proper and full state of health. However, since there may be many good subjects, that pay their taxes, and live peaceably in their habitations, who are yet born, or have departed this life several years since, my design is, to encourage both to join themselves as soon as possible to the number of the living. For, as I invite the former to break forth into being, and become good for something; so I allow the latter a state of resuscitation; which I chiefly mention for the sake of a person who has lately published an advertisement, with several scurrilous terms in it, that do by no means become a dead man to give: it is my departed friend John Partridge, who concludes the advertisement of his next year's almanack with the following note: 'Whereas it has been industriously given out by Isaac Bickerstaff, esquire, and others, to prevent the sale of this year's almanack, that John Partridge is dead: this may inform all his loving countrymen, that he is still living in health, and they are knaves that reported it otherwise. 'J. P.' Whereas: several have industriously spread abroad, that I am in parnership with Charles Lillie, II must say, with my friend Partridge, that they are the perfumer, at the corner of Beaufort Buildings: knust say, with my it. However, since the said Charles has promised that all his customers shall be mine, I must desire all mine to be his; and dare snuff, Hungary, or orange water, you shall have the answer for him, that if you ask in my name for best the town affords, at the cheapest rate. No. 97.] TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1709. Illud maximè rarum genus est eorum, qui ant excellente ingenii magnitudine, aut præclarâ eraditione atque doctrinâ, aut utrâque re ornati, spatium deliberandi habuerunt, quem potissimùm vitæ cursum sequi vellent. Tull. Offic. There are very few persons of extraordinary genius or eminent for learning and other noble endowments, who have had sufficient time to consider what particular course of life they ought to pursue. From my own Apartment, November 18. When an engineer finds his guns have not had their intended effect, he changes his batteries. am forced at present to take this method; and instead of continuing to write against the singularity some are guilty of in their habit and behaviour, I shall henceforward desire them to persevere in it; and not only so, but shall take it as a favour of all the coxcombs in the town, if they will set marks upon themselves, and by some particular in their dress show to what class they belong. It would be very obliging in all such persons, who feel in themselves that they are not of sound understanding, to give the world notice of it, and spare mankind the pains of finding them out. A cane upon the fifth button shall from henceforth be the type of a dapper; "red-heeled shoes, and a hat hung upon one side of the head, shall signify a Smart; a good periwig made into a twist, with a brisk cock, shall speak a Mettled Fellow; and an upper lip covered with snuff, denote a Coffee-house Statesman. But, as it is required that all coxcombs hang out their signs, it is on the other hand expected that men of real merit should avoid From my own Apartment, November 21. any thing particular in their dress, gait, or behaviour. For, as we old men delight in proverbs, I cannot Having swept away prodigious multitudes in my forbear bringing out one last paper, and brought a great destruction upon my on this occasion, 'That good wine needs no bush.' I must not leave this sub-recruits, and, if possible, to supply the places of the own species, I must endeavour in this to raise fresh -ject without reflecting on several persons I have lately unborn and the deceased. met with, who, at a distance, seemvery terrible; but when he stood upon a hill, and saw the whole country It is said of Xerxes, that, upon a stricter enquiry into their looks and features, round him covered with his army, he burst out into appear as meek and harmless as any of my own neighbours. These are country gentlemen, who of tears, to think, that not one of that multitude would late years have taken up a humour of coming to be alive a hundred years after. For my part, when town in red coats, whom an arch wag of my acI take a survey of this populous city, I can scarce quaintance used to describe very well, by calling forbear weeping, to see how few of its inhabitants them sheep in wolves' clothing.' I have often are now living. It was with this thought that I wondered, that honest gentlemen, who are good drew up my last bill of mortality, and endeavoured neighbours, and live quietly in their own possessions, have perished by a distemper, commonly known by to set out in it the great number of persons who should take it in their heads to frighten the town after this unreasonable manner. the name of idleness, which has long raged in the I shall think myself world, and destroys more in every great town than obliged, if they persist in so unnatural a dress, notwithstanding any posts they have in the militia, to the plague has done at Dantzick. To repair the give away their red coats to any of the soldiery who mischief it has done, and stock the world with a shall think fit to strip them, provided the said better race of mortals, I have more hopes of bringing soldiers can make it appear that they belong to a to life those that are young, than of reviving those regiment where there is a deficiency in the cloathing. down that noble allegory which was written by an that are old. For which reason, I shall here set About two days ago I was walking in the Park, old author called Prodicus, but recommended and and accidentally met a rural 'squire, clothed in all the types above-mentioned, with a carriage and beembellished by Socrates. It is the description of haviour made entirely out of his own head. Virtue and Pleasure making their court to Hercules, He was of a bulk and stature larger than ordinary, had a under the appearance of two beautiful women. red coat, flung open to show a gay calamanco waistcoat. His periwig fell in a very considerable bush upon each shoulder. His arms naturally swung at an unreasonable distance from his sides; which, with the advantage of a cane that he brandished in a great variety of irregular motions, made it unsafe for any one to walk within several vards of him. In this manner he took up the whole Mall, his spectators moving on each side of it, whilst he cocked up his hat, and marched directly for Westminster. I can not tell who this gentleman is, but, for my comfort, may say with the lover in Terence, who lost sight of a fine young lady, Wherever thou art, thou canst not be long concealed.' St. James's Coffee-house, November 18. By letters from Paris of the sixteenth we are informed that the French king, the princes of the blood, and the elector of Bavaria, had lately killed fifty-five pheasants. One When Hercules, says the divine moralist, was in that part of his youth, in which it was natural for him to consider what course of life he ought to pursue, he solitude of the place very much favoured his medione day retired into a desert, where the silence and and very much perplexed in himself on the state of tations. As he was musing on his present condition, life he should choose, he saw two women of a larger stature than ordinary approaching towards him. of them had a very noble air, and graceful deport ment; her beauty was natural and easy, her person ground with an agreeable reserve, her motion and clean and unspotted, her eyes cast towards the behaviour full of modesty, and her raiment as white as snow. The other had a great deal of health and floridness in her countenance, which she had helped with an artificial white and red; and endeavoured to appear more graceful than ordinary in her mien, by a mixture of affectation in all her gestures. She had a wonderful confidence and assurance in her looks, and all the variety of colours in her dress that she thought were most proper to show her coníplexion to an advantage. She cast her eyes upon herself, then turned them on those that were present, to see how they liked her, and often looked on the figure she made in her own shadow. Upon her near approach to Hercules, she stepped before the other lady, who came forward with a regular composed carriage, and running up to him, accosted him after the following manner. 'My dear Hercules,' says she, 'I find you are very much divided in your thoughts, upon the way of life that you ought to choose. Be my friend, and follow me; I will lead you into the possession of pleasure, and out of the reach of pain, and remove you from all the noise and disquietude of business. The affairs of either war or peace shall have no power to disturb you. Your whole employment shall be, to make your life easy, and to entertain every sense with its proper gratification. Sumptuous tables, beds of roses, clouds of perfumes, concerts of music, crowds of beauties, are all in readiness to receive you. Come along with me into this region of delights, this world of pleasure, and bid farewell for ever to care, to pain, to business.' Hercules, hearing the lady talk after this manner, desired to know her name; to which she answered, My friends, and those who are well acquainted with me, call me Happiness: but my enemies, and those who would injure my reputation, have given me the name of Pleasure.' By this time the other lady was come up, who addressed herself to the young hero in a very different manner. protector of servants, an associate in all true and generous friendships. The banquets of my votaries are never costly, but always delicious; for none eat or drink of them who are not invited by hunger and thirst. Their slumbers are sound, and their wakings cheerful. My young men have the pleasure of hearing themselves praised by those who are in years; and those who are in years of being honoured by those who are young. In a word, my followers are favoured by the gods, beloved by their acquaintance, esteemed by their country, and, after the close of their labours, honoured by posterity.' We know by the life of this memorable hero, to which of these two ladies he gave up his heart; and, I believe, every one who reads this will do him the justice to approve his choice. I very much admire the speeches of these ladies as containing in them the chief arguments for a life of virtue, or a life of pleasure, that could enter into the thoughts of a heathen; but am particularly pleased with the different figures he gives the two goddesses. Our modern authors have represented pleasure or vice with an alluring face, but ending in snakes and monsters. Here she appears in all the charms of beauty, though they are false and borrowed; and, by that means, composes a vision entirely natural and pleasing. I have translated this allegory for the benefit of the youth of Great Britain; and particularly of those who are still in the deplorable state of non-existence, and whom I most earnestly entreat to come into the world. Let my embryos show the least inclination to any single virtue, and I shall allow it to be struggling towards birth. I do not expect of them that, like the hero in the foregoing story, they should go about as soon as they are born, with a club in their hands, and a lion's skin on their shoulders, to root out monsters, and destroy tyrants; but, as the finest author of all antiquity has said upon this very occasion, though a man has not the abilities to distinguish himself in the most shining parts of a great character he has certainly the capacity of being just, faithful, modest, and temperate. From my own Apartment, November 23. I READ the following letter, which was left for me this evening, with very much concern for the lady's condition who sent it, who expresses the state of her mind with great frankness, as all people ought who talk to their physicians. 'Hercules,' says she, I offer myself to you because I know you are descended from the gods, and give proofs of that descent by your love to virtue, and application to the studies proper for your age. This makes me hope you will gain both for yourself and me an immortal reputation. But, before I invite you into my society and friendship, I will be open | and sincere with you, and must lay down this as an established truth, That there is nothing truly valuable, which can be purchased without pains and labour. The gods have set a price upon every real and noble pleasure. If you would gain the favour of the deity, you must be at the pains of worshipping No. 98.] THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1709. } him; if the friendship of good men, you must study to oblige them; if you would be honoured by your country, you must take care to serve it. In short, if you would be eminent in war or peace, you must become master of all the qualifications that can make you so. These are the only terms and conditions upon which I can propose happiness." The goddess of pleasure here broke in upon her discourse. You see,' said she, Hercules, by her own confession, the way to her pleasure is long and difficult, whereas 'Though you are stricken in years, and have had that which I propose is short and easy.'- Alas! great experience in the world, I believe you will say, said the other lady, whose visage glowed with a pas- there are not frequently such difficult occasions to sion made up of scorn and pity, what are the plea-act in with decency, as those wherein I am entangled. sures you propose? To eat before you are hungry,I am a woman in love, and that you will allow to be drink before you are a-thirst, sleep before you are the most unhappy of all circumstances in human life. a-tired, to gratify appetites before they are raised,Nature has formed us with a strong reluctance against and raise such appetites as nature never planted. owning such a passion, and custom has made it crimiYou never heard the most delicious music, which isnal in us to make advances. A gentleman, whom I the praise of one's self; nor saw the most beautiful will call Fabio, has the entire possession of my heart. object, which is the work of one's own hands. Your I am so intimately acquainted with him that he votaries pass away their youth in a dream of mis-makes no scruple of communicating to me an ardent taken pleasures, while they are hoarding up anguish, torment, and remorse for old age. 'As for me, I am a friend of the gods and of good men, an agreeable companion to the artizan, a household guardian to the fathers of families, a patron and THE TATLER, No. 21. MR. BICKERSTAFF, affection he has for Cleora, a friend of mine, who also makes me her confidant. Most part of my life I am in company with the one or the other, and am always entertained with his passion, or her triumph. Cleora is one of those ladies who think they are Y virtuous if they are not guilty; and without any delicacy of choice, resolves to take the best offer which shall be made to her. With this prospect she puts off declaring herself in favour of Fabio, until she sees what lovers will fall into her snares, which she lays in all public places, with all the art of gesture and glances. This resolution she has herself told me. Though I love him better than life, I would not gain him by betraying Cleora; or committing such a trespass against modesty, as letting him know myself that I love him. You are an astrologer, what shall I do? 'DIANA DOUBTFUL.' This lady has said very justly, that the condition of a woman in love is of all others the most misera ble. Poor Diana! how must she be racked with jealousy, when Fabio talks of Cleora! how with indignation, when Cleora makes a property of Fabio! A female lover is in the condition of a ghost, that wanders about its beloved treasure, without the power to speak, until it is spoken to. I desire Diana to continue in this circumstance: for I see an eye of comfort in her case, and will take all proper measures to extricate her out of this unhappy game of crosspurposes. Since Cleora is upon the catch with her charms, and has no particular regard for Fabio, I shall place a couple of special fellows in her way, who shall both address to her, and have each a better estate than Fabio. They are both already taken with her, and are preparing for being of her retinue the ensuing winter. To women of this worldly turn, as I apprehend Cleora to be, we must reckon backward in our computation of merit; and when a fair lady thinks only of making her spouse a convenient domestic, the notion of worth and value is altered, and the lover is the more acceptable, the less he is considerable. The two I shall throw into the way of Cleora are, Orson Thicket and Mr. Walter Wisdom. Orson is a huntsman, whose father's death, and some difficulties about legacies, brought him out of the woods to town last November. He was at that time one of those country savages, who despise the softness they meet in town and court; and professedly show their strength and roughness in every motion and gesture, in scorn of our bowing and cringing. He was at his first appearance, very remarkable for that piece of good breeding peculiar to natural Britons, to wit, defiance; and showed every one he met he was as good a man as he. But, in the midst of all this fierceness, he would sometimes attend the discourse of a man of sense, and look at the charms of a beauty with his eyes and mouth open. He was in this posture when, in the beginning of last December, he was shot by Cleora from a side-box.-From that moment he softened into humanity, forgot his dogs and horses, and now moves and speaks with civility and address. Wat. Wisdom, by the death of an elder brother, came to a great estate, when he had proceeded just far enough in his studies to be very impertinent, and at the years when the law gives him possession of his fortune, and his own constitution is too warm for the management of it. Orson is learning to fence and dance, to please and fight for his mistress; and Walter preparing fine horses, and a jingling chariot, to enchant her. All persons concerned will appear at the next opera, where will begin the wild-goose-chase; and I doubt Fabio will see himself so overlooked for Orson or Walter, as to turn his eyes on the modest passion and becoming langour in the countenance of Diana; it being my design to supply with the art of love, all those who preserve the sincere passion of it. Will's Coffee-house, November 23. An ingenious and worthy gentleman, my ancient friend, fell into discourse this evening, upon the force and efficacy which the writings of good poets have on the minds of their intelligent readers; and recommended to me his sense of the matter, thrown together in the following manner, which he desired me to communicate to the youth of Great Britain in my Essays. I choose to do it in his own words. virtue sinks deepest into the heart of man, when it I have always been of opinion,' says he, that poetry. The most active principle in our mind is comes recommended by the powerful charms of the imagination: to it a good poet makes his court perpetually, and by this faculty takes care to gain it first. Our passions and inclinations come over next; and our reason surrenders itself, with pleasure, in the end. into morality, by bribing the fancy with beautiful Thus, the whole soul is insensibly betrayed and agreeable images of those very things that in the books of the philosophers appear austere, and have word, the poets do, as it were, strew the rough paths at the best but a kind of forbidding aspect. In a of virtue so full of flowers, that we are not sensible the midst of pleasures, and the most bewitching allureof the uneasiness of them; and imagine ourselves in ments, at the time we are making progress in the severest duties of life. 'All men agree, that licentious poems do, of all -Quo non præstantior alter -None so renown'd With breathing brass to kindle fierce alarms. One of the brothers is apprehensive lest the wander- I do not think my sister so to seek, And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, No. 99.] SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 1709. entertain them with what they can understand, and not with things which are designed to improve their understanding: and the readiest way to gain good audiences must be to offer such things as are most relished by the crowd; that is to say, immodest action, empty show, or impertinent activity. In short, two houses cannot hope to subsist, but by means which are contradictory to the very institution of a theatre in a well-governed kingdom. I have ever had this sense of the thing, and for that reason have rejoiced that my ancient coeval friend of Drury-lane, though he had sold off most of his trembled for him, when he had lately liked to have moveables, still kept possession of his palace; and been taken by a stratagem. There have, for many ages, been a certain learned sort of unlearned men in this nation, called attornies, who have taken upon them to solve all difficulties by increasing them, and are called upon to the assistance of all who are lazy, or weak of understanding. The insolence of a ruler of this palace made him resign the possession of it to the management of my above-mentioned friend, Divito. Divito was too modest to know when to resign it, until he had the opinion and sentence of the law for his removal. Both these in length of time were obtained against him; but as the great Archimides defended Syracuse with so powerful engines, that if he threw a rope or piece of wood over the wall, the enemy fled; so Divito had wounded all adversaries with so much skill, that men feared even to be in the right against him. For this reason, the lawful ruler sets up an attorney to expel an attorney, and chose a name dreadful to the stage, who only seemed able to beat Divito out of his entrenchments. On the twenty-second instant, a night of public rejoicing, the enemies of Divito made a largess to I HAVE been this evening recollecting what passages, the people of faggots, tubs, and other combustible since I could first think, have left the strongest impres- matter, which was erected into a bonfire before the sions upon my mind; and, after strict inquiry, I am palace. Plentiful cans were at the same time disconvinced that the impulses I have received from thea-tributed among the dependencies of that principality; trical representations have had a greater effect than otherwise would have been wrought in me by the little occurrences of my private life! My old friends, Hart and Mohun, the one by his natural and proper force, the other by his great skill and art, never failed to send me home full of such ideas as affected my behaviour, and made me insensibly more courteous and humane to my friends and acquaintance. It is not the business of a good play to make every man a hero, but it certainly gives him a livelier sense of virtue and merit, than he had when he entered the theatre. This rational pleasure, as I always call it, has for many years been very little tasted: but I am glad to find that the true spirit of it is reviving again amongst us, by a due regard to what is presented, and by supporting only one playhouse. It has been within the observation of the youngest amongst us, that while there were two houses, they did not outvie each other by such representations as tended to the instruction and ornament of life, but by introducing mimical dances, and fulsome buffooneries. For when an excellent tragedy was to be acted in one house, the ladder-dancer carried the whole town to the other. Indeed such an evil as this must be the natural consequence of two theatres, as certainly as that there are more who can see than can think. Every one is sensible of the danger of the fellow on the ladder, and can see his activity in coming down safe; but | very few are judges of the distress of a hero in a play, or of his manner of behaviour in those circumstances, Thus, to please the people, two houses must and the artful rival of Divito, observing them prepared for enterprise, presented the lawful owner of the neighbouring edifice, and showed his deputation under him. War immediately ensued upon the peaceful empire of wit and the muses; the Goths and Vandals sacking Rome did not threaten a more barbarous devastation of arts and sciences. But, when they had forced their entrance, the experienced Divito had detached all his subjects, and evacuated all his stores. The neighbouring inhabitants report, that the refuse of Divito's followers marched off the night before, disguised in magnificence; door-keepers came out clad like cardinals, and scene-drawers like heathen gods. Divito himself was wrapped up in one of his black clouds, and left to the enemy nothing but an empty stage, full of trap-doors, known only to himself and his adherents. From my own Apartment, November 25.; I have already taken great pains to inspire notions of honour and virtue into the people of this kingdom, and used all gentle methods imaginable, to bring those who are dead in idleness, folly, and pleasure, into life, by applying themselves to learning, wisdom, and industry. But, since fair means are ineffectual, I must proceed to extremities, and shall give my good friends, the company of upholders, full power to bury all such dead as they meet with, who are within my former descriptions of deceased persons. In the mean time the following remonstrance of that corporation I take to be very just. |