with the choirs of birds that sang 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. Spectator! the many moonlight nights that I have walked by myself, and thought on the Widow by the music of the nightingales!" 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 interrupted in his thoughts of the Widow, told her she was 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.

1. A woman wearing a mask, a common appurtenance at the time. It has been refined down to a veil in these days.

XXXV. DEATH OF SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY.1

Heu Pietas! heu prisca Fides! 2

VIRGIL, Eneid, 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 Suspence, 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 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 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 Honour of the good old Man. I have likewise a Letter from the Butler, who 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 any Alteration or Diminution.

1. As explained in the introduction, this number of The Spec tator is reproduced with the spelling, italics, and capitalization originally used.

2. Ah piety! ah ancient faith!

3. The anticipated closing of The Spectator doubtless deter mined Addison to put the good knight to death. Writers of the time assert that Addison feared the character might otherwise be adopted by some other writer.

Honoured Sir,

'Knowing that you was 1 my old Master's good 'Friend, I could not forbear sending you the melan'choly 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'man; 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 Roast-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 '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 Light'ning '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

1. Not necessarily to be referred to the butler's ignorance of good English, for the locution was common enough amongst welleducated men at this time.

'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 Frize-Coat, and to every 'Woman a black Riding-hood. It was a most mov'ing 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 weeping. As we 'most of us are grown Gray-headed in our Dear 'Master's Service, he has left us Pensions and Lega'cies, which we may live very comfortably upon, the ‘remaining part of our Days. He has bequeath'd a 'great deal more in Charity, which is not yet come to ‘my Knowledge, and it is peremptorily said in the 'Parish, that he has left Mony to build a Steeple to 'the Church; for he was heard to say some time ago, 'that if he lived two Years longer, Coverly 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 bur'ied, according to his own Directions, among the 'Family of the Coverly's, on the Left Hand of his 'father Sir Arthur. The Coffin was carried by Six ‘of his Tenants, and the Pall held up by Six of the 'Quorum: The whole Parish follow'd 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.1

1. Steele in The Spectator for November 24, 1712, makes a sort of postscript to this whole affair of Sir Roger by producing a letter from Captain Sentry, written from Coverley Hall, Worcestershire, in which he says: "I am come to the succession of the estate of my honored kinsman, Sir Roger de Coverley; and I assure you I find it no easy task to keep up the figure of

'When my old Master saw him a little 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 good Use of it, and to pay the 'several Legacies, and the Gifts of Charity which he 'told him he had left as Quitrents 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 Kindness 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 ne'er joyed 'himself since; no more has any of us. 'Twas the 'melancholiest Day for the poor People that ever 'happened in Worcestershire. This being 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

master of the fortune which was so handsomely enjoyed by that honest plain man. I cannot (with respect to the great obligations I have, be it spoken) reflect upon his 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-disposed heart 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? His little absurdities and incapacity for the conversation 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 country which would be worth the pains of the wisest man's whole life to arrive at."