for a dedication.

You are now wholly retired from the busy them all could have better acted up to their part of mankind, and at leisure to reflect upon precepts in one of the most important points your past achievements; for which reason of life: I mean, in that generous disregard of look upon you as a person very well qualified popular opinion which you showed some years ago, when you chose for your wife an obI may possibly disappoint my readers, and scure young woman, who doth not indeed yourself too, if I do not endeavour on this pretend to an ancient family, but has certainoccasion to make the world acquainted with ly as many forefathers as any lady in the your virtues. And here, sir, I shall not com- land, if she could but reckon up their names. pliment you upon your birth, person, or for- I must own I conceived very extraordinary tune; nor on any other the like perfections hopes of you from the moment that you conwhich you possess, whether you will or no; fessed your age, and from eight-and-forty but shall only touch upon those which are of (where you had stuck so many years) very your own acquiring, and in which every one ingeniously stepped into your grand climac must allow you have a real merit. teric. Your deportment has since been very Your janty air and easy motion, the volu- venerable and becoming. If I am rightly inbility of your discourse, the suddenness of formed, you make a regular appearance every your laugh, the management of your snuff- quarter-session among your brothers of the box, with the whiteness of your hands and quorum; and if things go on as they do, teeth (which have justly gained you the envy stand fair for being a colonel of the militia. of the most polite part of the male world, I am told that your time passes away as and the love of the greatest beauties in the agreeably in the amusements of a country female) are entirely to be ascribed to your life, as it ever did in the gallantries of the own personal genius and application. town; and that you now take as much plea

You are formed for these accomplishments sure in the planting of young trees, as you by a happy turn of nature, and have finished did formerly in the cutting down of your old yourself in them by the utmost improvements ones. In short, we hear from all hands that of art. A man that is defective in either of you are thoroughly reconciled to your dirty these qualifications (whatever may be the se- acres, and have not too much wit to look into cret ambition of his heart) must never hope your own estate. to make the figure you have done, among the After having spoken thus much of my pafashionable part of his species. It is there- tron, I must take the privilege of an author in fore no wonder we see such multitudes of as- saying something of myself. I shall therepiring young men fall short of you in all these fore beg leave to add, that I have purposely beauties of your character, notwithstanding omitted setting those marks to the end of the study and practice of them is the whole every paper, which appeared in my former business of their lives. But I need not tell volumes, that you may have an opportunity you that the free and disengaged behaviour of showing Mrs. Honeycomb the shrewdness of a fine gentleman makes as many awkward of your conjectures, by ascribing every spe beaux, as the easiness of your favourite hath made insipid poets.

At present you are content to aim all your charms at your own spouse, without farther thought of mischief to any others of the sex. I know you had formerly a very great contempt for that pedantic race of mortals who call themselves philosophers; and yet, to your honour be it spoken, there is not a sage of

culation to its proper author: though you know how often many profound critics in style and sentiments have very judiciously erred in this particular, before they were let into the secret.

I am,
SIR,

Your most faithful humble servant,
THE SPECTATOR:

THE BOOKSELLER TO THE READER.

In the six hundred and thirty-second Spec- Perhaps it will be unnecessary to inform tator the reader will find an account of the the reader, that no other papers which rise of this eighth and last volume. have appeared under the title of the Spec

I have not been able to prevail upon the tator, since the closing of this eighth vo several gentlemen who were concerned in lume, were written by any of those gen this work to let me acquaint the world with tlemen who had a hand in this or the former their names. volumes.

!

THE SPECTATOR.

1

nothing in it remarkable, I shall pass it over in
silence, I find, that during my nonage, I had
the reputation of a very sullen youth, but was
always a favourite with my school-master, who
used to say,
'that my parts were solid, and
would wear well.' I had not been long at the
university, before I distinguished myself by a
most profound silence; for during the space of
eight years, excepting in the public exercise 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 wth so much diligence
to my studies, that there are very few cele-
brated books either in the learned or the mo-
dern tongues, which I am not acquainted with.

I HAVE observed, that a reader seldom peruses a book with pleasure, till he knows whether the writer of it be a black or a fair man, of a mild or choleric 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 Upon the death of my father, I was resolved discourses to my following writings, and shall to travel into foreign countries, and therefore give some account in them of the several per- left the university, with the character of an odd sons that are engaged in this work. As the unaccountable fellow, that had a great deal of chief trouble of compiling, digesting, and cor-learning, if I would but show it. An insatiable recting will fall to my share, I must do myself thirst after knowledge carried me into all the the justice to open the work with my own his- countries of Europe, in which there was any tory. 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 voyage 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 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 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 when my mother was gone with child of me about three months, she dreamt that she was brought to bed of 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 presaged 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, and all the time that I sucked, 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

VOL. I.

I have passed my latter years in this city, where I am frequently seen in most public places, though 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 general resort. wherein I do not often make my appearance; sometimes I am seen thrusting my head into a round of politicians at Will's, and listening 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

This is, probably, an allusion to Mr. John Greaves, astronomical professor at Oxford, who in 1646 published a work, entitled Pyramidographia.'

and much frequented by the clergy; St. James's is in its t Child's coffee-house was in St. Paul's church-yard, original situation; Jonathan's was in Change-alley, and the Rose was on the west side of Temple-bar.

1

the conversation of every table in the room. | disagreeable to me; for the greatest pain I can 1 appear on Sunday nights at St. James's cof-suffer, is the being talked to, and being stared fee-house, and sometimes join the little com- at. It is for this reason likewise, that I keep mittee of politics in the inner-room, as one who my complexion and dress as very great secrets; comes there to hear and improve. My face though it is not impossible but I may make is likewise very well known at the Grecian, discoveries of both in the progress of the work the Cocoa-tree, and in the theatres both of I have undertaken. Drury-lane and the Hay-market. I have been After having been thus particular upon mytaken for a merchant upon the exchange for self, I shall in to-morrow's paper give an acabove these ten years, and sometimes pass for count of those gentlemen who are concerned a Jew in the assembly of stock-jobbers at Jona-with me in this work; for, as I have before than's. In short, wherever I see a cluster of intimated, a plan of it is laid and concerted people, I always mix with them, though I ne- (as all other matters of importance are) in a ver open my lips but in my own club,

club. However, as my friends have engaged Thus I live in the world rather as a Specta- me to stand in the front, those who have a tor of mankind, than as one of the species, by mind to correspond with me, may direct their which means I have made myself a speculative letters to the Spectator, at Mr. Buckley's, in statesman, soldier, merchant, and artisan, Little Brain. For I must further acquaint without ever meddling with any practical part the reader, that though our club meets only on in life. I am very well versed in the theory of Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have appointed a a husband, or a father, and can discern the committee to sit every night for the inspection errors in the economy, business, and diversion of all such papers as may contribute to the adof others, better than those who are engaged vancement of the public weal.' in them; as standers-by discover blots, which

are apt to escape those who are in the game.

-Ast alii sex,

I never espoused any party with violence, and No. 2.] Friday, March 2, 1710-11.
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.

C.

Et plures, uno conclamant ore- Jud. Sat. vij. 167.
Six more at least join their consenting voice.

His

THE first of our society is a gentleman of I have given the reader just so much of my Worcestershire, of an ancient descent, a barhistory and character, as to let him see I am onet, his name sir Roger de Coverly. not altogether unqualified for the business great grandfather was inventor of that famous have undertaken. As for other particulars country-dance which is called after him. All who. in my life and adventures, I shall insert them know that shire are very well acquainted with in following papers, as I shall see occasion. In the parts and the merits of Sir Roger. He is the mean time, when I consider how much a gentleman that is very singular in his behaI have seen, read, and heard, I begin to blame viour, but his singularities proceed from his my own taciturnity; and since I have neither good sense, and are contradictions to the mantime nor inclination, to communicate the ful-ners of the world, only as he thinks the world ness of my heart in speech, I am resolved to is in the wrong. However, this humour credo it in writing, and to print myself out, if pos-ates him no enemies, for he does nothing with sible, before I die. I have been often told by sourness or obstinacy; and his being unconmy friends, that it is pity so many useful dis- fined to modes and forms, makes him but the coveries which I have made should be in the readier and more capable to please and oblige possession of a silent man. all who know him. When he is in town, he For this reason, therefore, I shall publish a sheet-full of thoughts lives in Soho-square.* It is said, he keeps évery morning, for the benefit of my contem- himself a bachelor by reason he was crossed in poraries; and if I can any way contribute to love by a perverse beautiful widow of the next Before this disappointment, the diversion, or improvement of the country county to him. in which I live, I shall leave it when I am sum-Sir Roger was what you call a fine gentleman, moned out of it, with the secret satisfaction of had often supped with my Lord Rochester and Sir George Etherege, fought a duel upon his thinking that I have not lived in vain. There are three very material points which first coming to town, and kicked bully Dawsont I have not spoken to in this paper; and which, in a public coffee-house for calling him youngfor several important reasons, I must keep to But being ill-used by the above-menmyself, at least for some time: I mean an tioned widow, he was very serious for a year account of my name, my age, and my lodgings. and a half; and though, his temper being naI must confess, I would gratify my reader in turally jovial, he at last got over it, he grew any thing that is reasonable; but as for these careless of himself, and never dressed afterwards. He continues to wear a coat and three particulars, though I am sensible they might tend very much to the embellishment of my paper, I cannot yet come to a resolution * Soho-square was at that time the genteelest part of of communicating them to the public. They Duke of Monmouth, occupied until the year 1773, the the town. The handsome house, built by the unfortunate would indeed draw me out of that obscurity whole of the ground on which Bateman's buildings now which I have enjoyed for many years, and stand. expose me in public places to several salutes bauchee about town, at the time here pointed out; he was This fellow was a noted sharper, swaggerer, and deand civilities, which have been always very well known in Blackfriars and its then infamous purlicus.

ster.

doublet of the same cut that were in fashion ble industry, strong reason, and great experiat the time of his repulse, which, in his merry ence. His notions of trade are noble and genhumours, he tells us, has been in and out erous, and (as every rich man has usually twelve times since he first wore it. It is said some sly way of gesting, which would make Sir Roger grew humble in his desires after he no great figure were he not a rich man) he calls had forgot his cruel beauty, insomuch that it the sea the British Common. He is acquainted is reported he has frequently offended in point with commerce in all its parts, and will tell you of chastity with beggars and gypsies: but this that it is a stupid and barbarous way to extend is looked upon, by his friends, rather as matter dominion by arms; for true power is to be got of railery than truth. He is now in his fifty- by arts and industry. He will often argue, sixth year, cheerful, gay, and hearty; keeps a that if this part of our trade were well cultigood house both in town and country; a great vated, we should gain from one nation; and if lover of mankind: but there is such a mirth- another, from another. I have heard him prove, ful cast in his behaviour, that he is rather be-that diligence makes more lasting acquisitions loved than esteemed. His tenants grow rich, than valour, and that sloth has ruined more his servants look satisfied, all the young wo-nations than the sword. He abounds in seve men profess love to him, and the young men ral frugal maxims, amongst which the greatare glad of his company. When he comes est favourite is, A penny saved is a penny into a house, he calls the servants by their got.' A general trader of good sense is pleas names, and talks all the way up stairs to a lanter company than a general scholar; and visit. I must not omit, that Sir Roger is a Sir Andrew having a natural unaffected elojustice of the quorum; that he fills the chair quence, the perspicuity of his discourse gives at a quarter-session with great abilities, and the same pleasure that wit would in another three months ago gained universal applause, man. He has made his fortune himself; and by explaining a passage in the game-act. says that England may be richer than other

which he is an owner.

The gentleman next in esteem and authority kingdoms, by as plain methods as he himself among us is another bachelor, who is a mem-is richer than other men; though at the same ber of the Inner Temple, a man of great pro- time I can say this of him, that there is not a bity, wit, and understanding; but he has cho-point in the compass, but blows home a ship in sen his place of residence rather to obey the direction of an old humorsome father, than in Next to Sir Andrew in the club-room sits pursuit of his own inclinations. He was plac- Captain Sentry, a gentleman of great courage, ed there to study the laws of the land, and is good understanding, but invincible modesty. the most learned of any of the house in those He is one of those that deserve very well, but of the stage. Aristotle and Longinus are are very aukward at putting their talents within much better understood by him than Littleton the observation of such as should take notice or Coke. The father sends up every post of them. He was some years a captain, and questions relating to marriage-articles, leases behaved himself with great gallantry in seveand tenures, in the neighbourhood; all which ral engagements and at several sieges; but questions he agrees with an attorney to answer having a small estate of his own, and being and take care of in the lump. He is studying next heir to sir Roger, he has quitted a way of the passions themselves when he should be in- life in which no man can rise suitably to his quiring into the debates among men which merit, who is not something of a courtier as arise from them. He knows the argument of well as a soldier. I have heard him often laeach of the orations of Demosthenes and Tul-ment, that in a profession where merit is placly, but not one case in the reports of our own ed in so conspicuous a view, impudence should courts. No one ever took him for a fool; but get the better of modesty. When he has talknone, except his intimate friends, know he has ed to this purpose, I never heard him make a a great deal of wit. This turn makes him at sour expression, but frankly confess that he once both disinterested and agreeable. As few left the world, because he was not fit for it. A of his thoughts are drawn from business, they strict honesty and an even regular behaviour, are most of them fit for conversation. His are in themselves obstacles to him that must taste for books is a little too just for the age he pass through crowds, who endeavour at the lives in; he has read all, but approves of very same end with himself, the favour of a comfew. His familiarity with the customs, man-mander. He will however in his way of talk pers, actions, and writings of the ancients, excuse generals, for not disposing according makes him a very delicate observer of what to men's desert, or inquiring into it; For, says occurs to him in the present world. He is an he, that great man who has a mind to help me, excellent critic, and the time of the play is his has as many to break through to come at me, hour of business; exactly at five he passes as I have to come at him: therefore he will through New-Inn, crosses through Russel- conclude, that the man who would make a court, and takes a turn at Will's till the play figure, especially in a military way, must get begins; he has his shoes rubbed and his peri-over all false modesty, and assist his patron wig powdered at the barber's as you go into the against the importunity of other pretenders, Rose. It is for the good of the audience when by a proper assurance in his own vindication. he is at a play, for the actors have an ambition He says it is a civil cowardice to be backward to please him. in asserting what you ought to expect, as it is The person of next consideration is Sir An- a military fear to be slow in attacking when it drew Freeport, a merchant of great eminence is your duty. With this candour does the gen in the city of London; a person of indefatiga- tleman speak of himself and others. The same

.