advise them to take with them as great a stock of good-humor as they can; for though a country life is described as the most pleasant of all others, and though it may in truth be so, yet it is so only to those who know how to enjoy leisure and retirement. 5 "As for those who cannot live without the constant helps of business or company, let them consider, that in the country there is no Exchange, there are no playhouses, no variety of coffee-houses, nor many of those other amusements which serve 10 here as so many reliefs from the repeated occurrences in their own families; but that there the greatest part of their time must be spent within themselves, and consequently it behooves them to consider how agreeable it will be to them before they leave this 15 dear town.

"I remember, Mr. Spectator, we were very well entertained last year, with the advices you gave us from Sir Roger's country-seat; which I the rather mention, because it is almost impossible not to live 20 pleasantly, where the master of the family is such a one as you there describe your friend, who cannot therefore (I mean as to his domestic character) be too often recommended to the imitation of others. How amiable is that affability and benevolence with 25 which he treats his neighbors, and every one, even the meanest of his own family! and yet how seldom imitated! Instead of which we commonly meet with ill-natured expostulations, noise, and chidings

-And this I hinted, because the humor and disposition of the head is what chiefly influences all the other parts of a family.

"An agreement and kind correspondence between 5 friends and acquaintance is the greatest pleasure of life. This is an undoubted truth; and yet any man who judges from the practice of the world will be almost persuaded to believe the contrary; for how can we suppose people should be so industrious to 10 make themselves uneasy? What can engage them to entertain and foment jealousies of one another upon every the least occasion? Yet so it is, there are people who (as it should seem) delight in being troublesome and vexatious, who (as Tully 2 speaks) 15 Mirâ sunt alacritate ad litigandum, "have a certain cheerfulness in wrangling." And thus it happens, that there are very few families in which there are not feuds and animosities; though it is every one's interest, there more particularly, to avoid them, 20 because there (as I would willingly hope) no one gives another uneasiness without feeling some share of it. But I am gone beyond what I designed, and had almost forgot what I chiefly proposed: which was, barely to tell you how hardly we, who 25 pass most of our time in town, dispense with a long vacation in the country, how uneasy we grow to ourselves, and to one another, when our conversation is confined; insomuch that, by Michaelmas, it is odds but we come to downright squabbling, and

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make as free with one another to our faces as we do with the rest of the world behind their backs. After I have told you this, I am to desire that you would now and then give us a lesson of good-humor, a family-piece, which, since we are all very fond of 5 you, I hope may have some influence upon us.

"After these plain observations, give me leave to give you an hint of what a set of company of my acquaintance, who are now gone into the country, and have the use of an absent nobleman's seat, ΙΟ have settled among themselves, to avoid the inconveniences above mentioned. They are a collection of ten or twelve, of the same good inclination towards each other, but of very different talents and inclinations; from hence they hope that the variety of 15 their tempers will only create variety of pleasures. But as there always will arise, among the same people, either for want of diversity of objects, or the like causes, a certain satiety, which may grow into ill-humor or discontent, there is a large wing 20 of the house which they design to employ in the nature of an infirmary. Whoever says a peevish thing, or acts anything which betrays a sourness or indisposition to company, is immediately to be conveyed to his chambers in the infirmary; from whence 25 he is not to be relieved, till by his manner of submission, and the sentiments expressed in his petition for that purpose, he appears to the majority of the company to be again fit for society. You are to

understand, that all ill-natured words or uneasy gestures are sufficient cause for banishment; speaking impatiently to servants, making a man repeat what he says, or anything that betrays inattention 5 or dishumor, are also criminal without reprieve. But it is provided, that whoever observes the illnatured fit coming upon himself, and voluntarily retires, shall be received at his return from the infirmary with the highest marks of esteem. By 10 these and other wholesome methods, it is expected that if they cannot cure one another, yet at least they have taken care that the ill-humor of one shall not be troublesome to the rest of the company. There are many other rules which the society have 15 established for the preservation of their ease and tranquillity, the effects of which, with the incidents that arise among them, shall be communicated to you from time to time, for the public good, by, Sir, "Your most humble servant,

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"R. O."

No. 39. The Death of Sir Roger SPECTATOR NO. 517. Thursday, October 23, 1712

Heu pietas! heu prisca fides! 1

Virg. Æn. vi. 878.

WE 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 house in the country, after a few weeks' sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a letter from one of his correspondents in those 5 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 succeeded according to his wishes. But this particular comes from a whig justice of peace, who 10 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 particulars to the honor of the good old man. I have likewise a letter from the butler, who 15 took so much 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 20 any alteration or diminution.

'Knowing 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 25 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