by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele

Having notified to my good friend Sir Roger that I should set out for London the next day, his horses were ready at the appointedhour in the evening; and attended by one of his grooms, I arrivedat the country town at twilight, in order to be ready for thestage-coach the day following. As soon as we arrived at the inn,the servant, who waited upon me, enquired of the chamberlain inmy hearing what company he had for the coach? The fellowanswered, Mrs. Betty Arable, the great fortune, and the widow hermother; a recruiting officer (who took a place because they wereto go); young Squire Quickset her cousin (that her mother wishedher to be married to); Ephraim the Quaker, her guardian; and agentleman that had studied himself dumb, from Sir Roger deCoverley's. I observed by what he said of myself, that accordingto his office he dealt much in intelligence; and doubted not butthere was some foundation for his reports for the rest of thecompany, as well as for the whimsical account he gave of me. Thenext morning at day-break we were all called; and I, who knew myown natural shyness, and endeavour to be as little liable to bedisputed with as possible, dressed immediately, that I might makeno one wait. The first preparation for our setting-out was, thatthe captain's half-pike was placed near the coachman, and a drumbehind the coach. In the mean time the drummer, the captain'sequipage, was very loud, that none of the captain's things shouldbe placed so as to be spoiled; upon which his cloke-bag was fixedin the seat of the coach: and the captain himself, according toa frequent, tho' invidious behaviour of military men, ordered hisman to look sharp, that none but one of the ladies should havethe place he had taken fronting to the coach-box.

We were in some little time fixed in our seats, and sat with thatdislike which people not too good-natured usually conceive ofeach other at first sight. The coach jumbled us insensibly intosome sort of familiarity; and we had not moved above two miles,when the widow asked the captain what success he had in hisrecruiting? The officer, with a frankness he believed verygraceful, told her, "That indeed he had but very little luck, andhad suffered much by desertion, therefore should be glad to endhis warfare in the service of her or her fair daughter. In aword," continued he, "I am a soldier, and to be plain is mycharacter: you see me, Madam, young, sound, and impudent; takeme yourself, widow, or give me to her, I will be wholly at yourdisposal. I am a soldier of fortune, ha!" This was followed bya vain laugh of his own, and a deep silence of all the rest ofthe company. I had nothing left for it but to fall fast asleep,which I did with all speed. "Come," said he, "resolve upon it,we will make a wedding at the next town. We will wake thispleasant companion who has fallen asleep, to be the brideman"(and giving the quaker a clap on the knee) he concluded "This slysaint, who I'll warrant, understands what's what as well as youor I, widow, shall give the bride as father." The quaker, whohappened to be a man of smartness, answered, "Friend, I take itin good part that thou hast given me the authority of a fatherover this comely and virtuous child; and I must assure thee, thatif I have the giving her, I shall not bestow her on thee. Thymirth, friend, savoureth of folly: Thou art a person of a lightmind; thy drum is a type of thee, it soundeth because it isempty. Verily, it is not from thy fulness, but thy emptinessthat thou hast spoken this day. Friend, friend, we have hiredthis coach in partnership with thee, to carry us to the greatcity; we cannot go any other way. This worthy mother must hearthee if thou wilt needs utter thy follies; we cannot help it,friend, I say: if thou wilt, we must hear thee; but if thou werta man of understanding, thou wouldst not take advantage of thycourageous countenance to abash us children of peace. Thou art,thou sayest, a soldier; give quarter to us, who cannot resistthee. Why didst thou fleer at our friend, who feigned himselfasleep? He said nothing; but how dost thou know what hecontaineth? If thou speakest improper things in the hearing ofthis virtuous young virgin, consider it as an outrage against adistressed person that cannot get from thee: 'To speakindiscreetly what we are obliged to hear, by being hasped up withthee in this publick vehicle, is in some degree assaulting on the high road."

Here Ephraim paused, and the captain with a happy and uncommonimpudence (which can be convicted and support itself at the sametime) cries, "Faith, friend, I thank thee; I should have been alittle impertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me. Come, thouart, I see, a smoky old fellow, and I'll be very orderly theensuing part of my journey. I was going to give myself airs,but, ladies, I beg pardon."

The captain was so little out of humour, and our company was sofar from being soured by this little ruffle, that Ephraim and hetook a particular delight in being agreeable to each other forthe future; and assumed their different provinces in the conductof the company. Our reckonings, apartments, and accommodation,fell under Ephraim; and the captain looked to all disputes uponthe road, as the good behaviour of our coachman, and the right wehad of taking place as going to London of all vehicles comingfrom thence. The occurrences we met with were ordinary, and verylittle happened which could entertain by the relation of them:but when I consider'd the company we were in, I took it for nosmall good-fortune that the whole journey was not spent inimpertinences, which to the one part of us might be anentertainment, to the other a suffering. What therefore Ephraimsaid when we were almost arriv'd at London had to me an air notonly of good understanding but good breeding. Upon the younglady's expressing her satisfaction in the journey, and declaringhow delightful it had been to her, Ephraim delivered himself asfollows: "There is no ordinary part of human life whichexpresseth so much a good mind, and a right inward man, as hisbehaviour upon meeting with strangers, especially such as mayseem the most unsuitable companions to him: such a man, when hefalleth in the way with persons of simplicity and innocence,however knowing he may be in the ways of men, will not vaunthimself thereof; but will the rather hide his superiority tothem, that he may not be painful unto them. My good friend(continued he, turning to the officer), thee and I are to part byand by, and peradventure we may never meet again: but be advisedby a plain man: modes and apparel are but trifles to the realman, therefore do not think such a man as thyself terrible forthy garb, nor such a one as me contemptible for mine. When twosuch as thee and I meet, with affections as we ought to havetowards each other, thou shouldst rejoice to see my peaceabledemeanour, and I should be glad to see thy strength and abilityto protect me in it."

A man's first care should be to avoid the reproaches of his ownheart; his next, to escape the censures of the world. If thelast interferes with the former, it ought to be entirelyneglected; but otherwise there cannot be a greater satisfactionto an honest mind, than to see those approbations which it givesitself seconded by the applauses of the publick: a man is moresure of his conduct, when the verdict which he passes upon hisown behaviour is thus warranted and confirmed by the opinion ofall that know him.

My worthy friend Sir Roger is one of those who is not only atpeace within himself, but beloved and esteemed by all about him.He receives a suitable tribute for his universal benevolence tomankind, in the returns of affection and good-will, which arepaid him by every one that lives within his neighbourhood. Ilately met with two or three odd instances of that generalrespect which is shewn to the good old Knight. He would needscarry Will Wimble and myself with him to the county-assizes. Aswe were upon the road, Will Wimble join'd a couple of plain menwho rid before us, and conversed with them for some time; duringwhich my friend Sir Roger acquainted me with their characters.

The first of them, says he, that has a spaniel by his side, is ayeoman of about an hundred pounds a year, an honest man: he isjust within the game-act, and qualified to kill an hare or apheasant. He knocks down a dinner with his gun twice or thrice aweek; and by that means lives much cheaper than those who havenot so good an estate as himself. He would be a good neighbourif he did not destroy so many partridges. In short, he is a verysensible man; shoots flying; and has been several times foremanof the petty-jury.

The other that rides along with him is Tom Touchy, a fellowfamous for TAKING THE LAW of every body. There is not one in thetown where he lives that he has not sued at a quarter sessions.The rogue had once the impudence to go to law with the Widow.His head is full of costs, damages, and ejectments: He plagued acouple of honest gentlemen so long for a trespass in breaking oneof his hedges, till he was forced to sell the ground it enclosedto defray the charges of the prosecution. His father left himfourscore pounds a year; but he has CAST and been cast so often,that he is not now worth thirty. I suppose he is going upon theold business of the willow-tree.

As Sir Roger was giving me this account of Tom Touchy, WillWimble and his two companions stopped short till we came up tothem. After having paid their respects to Sir Roger, Will toldhim that Mr. Touchy and he must appeal to him upon a dispute thatarose between them. Will it seems, had been giving his fellow-traveller an account of his angling one day in such a hole; whenTom Touchy, instead of hearing out his story, told him that Mr.Such-a-one, if he pleased, might take the law of him for fishingin that part of the river. My friend Sir Roger heard them both,upon a round trot; and after having paused some time told them,with the air of a man who would not give his judgment rashly,that much might be said on both sides. They were neither of themdissatisfied with the Knight's determination, because neither ofthem found himself in the wrong by it. Upon which we made thebest of our way to the assizes.

The court was sat before Sir Roger came; but notwithstanding allthe justices had taken their places upon the bench, they maderoom for the old Knight at the head of them; who for hisreputation in the country took occasion to whisper in the judge'sear, that he was glad his lordship had met with so much goodweather in his circuit. I was listening to the proceeding of thecourt with much attention, and infinitely pleased with that greatappearance and solemnity which so properly accompanies such apublick administration of our laws; when, after about an hour'ssitting, I observed to my great surprise, in the midst of atrial, that my friend Sir Roger was getting up to speak. I wasin some pain for him, till I found he had acquitted himself oftwo or three sentences with a look of much business and greatintrepidity.

Upon his first rising the court was hushed, and a general whisperran among the country people that Sir Roger was UP. The speechhe made was so little to the purpose, that I shall not trouble myreaders with an account of it; and I believe was not so muchdesigned by the Knight himself to inform the court, as to givehim a figure in my eye, and keep up his credit in the country.
I was highly delighted, when the court rose, to see the gentlemenof the country gathering about my old friend, and striving whoshould compliment him most; at the same time that the ordinarypeople gazed upon him at a distance, not a little admiring hiscourage, that was not afraid to speak to the judge.

In our return home we met with a very odd accident; which Icannot forbear relating, because it shews how desirous all whoknow Sir Roger are of giving him marks of their esteem. When wewere arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a littleinn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man of the house hadit seems been formerly a servant in the Knight's family; and todo honour to his old master, had some time since, unknown to SirRoger, put him up in a sign-post before the door; so that THEKNIGHT'S HEAD had hung out upon the road about a week before hehimself knew any thing of the matter. As soon as Sir Roger wasacquainted with it, finding that his servant's indiscretionproceeded wholly from affection and good-will, he only told himthat he had made him too high a compliment; and when the fellowseemed to think that could hardly be, added with a more decisivelook, that it was too great an honour for any man under a duke;but told him at the same time, that it might be altered with avery few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge ofit. Accordingly, they got a painter by the Knight's directionsto add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by a littleaggravation of the features to change it into the SARACEN'S HEAD.I should not have known this story had not the inn-keeper, uponSir Roger's alighting, told him in my hearing, that his honour'shead was brought back last night with the alterations that he hadordered to be made in it. Upon this my friend, with his usualchearfulness, related the particulars above-mentioned, andordered the head to be brought into the room. I could notforbear discovering greater expressions of mirth than ordinaryupon the appearance of this monstrous face, under which,notwithstanding it was made to frown and stare in a mostextraordinary manner, I could still discover a distantresemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger, upon seeing me laugh,desired me to tell him truly if I thought it possible for peopleto know him in that disguise. I at first kept my usual silence;but upon the Knight's conjuring me to tell him whether it was notstill more like himself than a Saracen, I composed my countenancein the best manner I could, and replied, that much might be saidon both sides.

These several adventures, with the Knight's behaviour in them,gave me as pleasant a day as ever I met with in any of my travels.

THE CHASE

Those who have searched into human nature, observe that nothing so much shews the nobleness of the soul as that its felicity consists in action. Every man has such an active principle in him, that he will find out something to employ himself upon, in whatever place or state of life he is posted. I have heard of a gentleman who was under close confinement in the Bastile seven years; during which time he amused himself in scattering a few small pins about his chamber, gathering them up again, and placing them in different figures on the arm of a great chair.He often told his friends afterwards, that unless he had found out this piece of exercise, he verily believed he should have lost his senses.

After what has been said, I need not inform my readers that Sir Roger, with whose character I hope they are at present pretty well acquainted, had in his youth gone through the whole courseof those rural diversions which the country abounds in; and which seem to be extremely well suited to that laborious industry a man may observe here in a far greater degree than in towns and cities. I have before hinted at some of my friend's exploits:he had in his youthful days taken forty coveys of partridges in a season; and tired many a salmon with a line consisting but of a single hair. The constant thanks and good wishes of the neighbourhood always attended him, on account of his remarkable enmity towards foxes; having destroyed more of those vermin in one year, than it was thought the whole country could have produced. Indeed the Knight does not scruple to own among his most intimate friends, that in order to establish his reputation this way, he has secretly sent for great numbers of them out of other counties, which he used to turn loose about the country by night, that he might the better signalise himself in their destruction the next day. His hunting horses were the finest and best managed in all these parts: his tenants are still full of the praises of a gray stone-horse that unhappily staked himself several years since, and was buried with great solemnity in the orchard.

Sir Roger, being at present too old for fox-hunting, to keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles and got a pack of STOP-HOUNDS. What these want in speed, he endeavours to make amends for by the deepness of their mouths and the variety of their notes, which are suited in such manner to each other, that the whole cry makes up a complete concert. He is so nice in this particular, that a gentleman having made him a present of a very fine hound the other day, the Knight returned it by the servant with a great many expressions of civility; but desired him to tell his master, that the dog he had sent was indeed a most excellent BASS, but that at present he only wanted a COUNTER-TENOR. Could I believe my friend had ever read Shakespeare, I should certainly conclude he had taken the hint from Theseus in the MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flu'd so sanded, and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew. Crook-knee'd and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls, Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouths like bells, Each under each: A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor chear'd with horn.

Sir Roger is so keen at this sport, that he has been out almost every day since I came down; and upon the chaplain's offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on yesterday morning tomake one of the company. I was extremely pleased, as we rid along, to observe the general benevolence of all the neighbourhood towards my friend. The farmers' sons thought themselves happy if they could open a gate for the good old Knight as he passed by; which he generally requited with a nod ora smile, and a kind of enquiry after their fathers and uncles.

After we had rid about a mile from home, we came upon a large heath, and the sportsmen began to beat. 'They had done so forsome time, when, as I was at a little distance from the rest of the company, I saw a hare pop out from a small furze-brake almost under my horse's feet. I marked the way she took, which I endeavoured to make the company sensible of by extending my arms;but to no purpose, till Sir Roger, who knows that none of my extraordinary motions are insignificant, rode up to me, and asked me if PUSS was gone that way? Upon my answering yes, he immediately called in the dogs, and put them upon the scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the country-fellows muttering to his companion, that 'twas a wonder they had not lost all their sport, for want of the silent gentleman's crying STOLE AWAY.

This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me withdraw to arising ground, from whence I could have the pleasure of the whole chase, without the fatigue of keeping in with the hounds.
The hare immediately threw them above a mile behind her; but Iwas pleased to find, that instead of running straight forwards,or, in hunter's language, FLYING THE COUNTRY, as I was afraid she might have done, she wheel'd about, and described a sort of circle round the hill where I had taken my station, in such manner as gave me a very distinct view of the sport. I could see her first pass by, and the dogs some time after wards unravelling the whole track she had made, and following her thro' all her doubles. I was at the same time delighted in observing that deference which the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, according to the character he had acquired amongst them:If they were at a fault, and an old hound of reputation opened but once, he was immediately followed by the whole cry; while a raw dog, or one who was a noted LIAR might have yelped his heart out, without being taken notice of.

The hare now, after having squatted two or three times, and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the place where she was at first started. The dogs pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly Knight, who rode upon a white gelding,encompassed by his tenants and servants, and chearing his hounds with all the gaiety of five and twenty. One of the sportsmen rode up to me, and told me that he was sure the chace was almost at an end, because the old dogs, which had hitherto lain behind,now headed the pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a large field just under us, followed by the full cry IN VIEW. I must confess the brightness of the weather, the chearfulness of every thing around me, the CHIDING of the hounds, which was returned upon us in a double echo from two neighbouring hills,with the hollowing of the sportsmen, and the sounding of the horn, lifted my spirits into a most lively pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was sure it was innocent. If I was under any concern it was on the account of the poor hare, that was now quite spent and almost within the reach of her enemies;when the huntsman getting forward threw down his pole before the dogs. They were now within eight yards of that game which they had been pursuing for almost as many hours; yet on the signal before-mentioned they all made a sudden stand, and tho' they continued opening as much as before, durst not once attempt to pass beyond the pole. At the same time Sir Roger rode forward,and a lighting, took up the hare in his arms; which he soon delivered up to one of his servants, with an order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in his great orchard; where it seem she has several of these prisoners of war, who live together in avery comfortable captivity. I was highly pleased to see the discipline of the pack, and the good-nature of the Knight, who could not find in his heart to murder a creature that had given him so much diversion.

As we were returning home, I remembered that Monsieur Paschal, in his most excellent discourse on the misery of man, tells us, that all our endeavours after greatness proceed from nothing but a desire of being surrounded by a multitude of persons and affairs that may hinder us from looking into ourselves, which is a view we cannot bear. He afterwards goes on to shew that our love of sports comes from the same reason, and is particularly severe upon hunting. What, says he, unless it be to drown thought, can make men throw away so much time and pains upon a silly animal,which they might buy cheaper in the market? The foregoing reflection is certainly just, when a man suffers his whole mind to be drawn into his sports, and altogether loses himself in the woods; but does not affect those who propose a far more laudable end for this exercise, I mean, the preservation of health, and keeping all the organs of the soul in a condition to execute her orders. Had that incomparable person, whom I last quoted, been a little more indulgent to himself in this point, the world might probably have enjoyed him much longer; whereas thro' too great an application to his studies in his youth, he contracted that ill habit of body, which, after a tedious sickness, carried him off in the fortieth year of his age; and the whole history we have of his life till that time, is but one continued account of the behaviour of a noble soul struggling under innumerable pains and distempers.

For my own part I intend to hunt twice a week during my stay with Sir Roger; and shall prescribe the moderate use of this exercise to all my country friends as the best kind of physic for mending a bad constitution, and preserving a good one. I cannot do this better, than in the following lines out of Mr. Dryden.

The first physicians by debauch were made; Excess began, and sloth sustains the trade. By chace our long-liv'd fathers earn'd their food; Toil strung the nerves, and purify'd the blood; But we their sons, a pamper'd race of men, Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, Than fee the Doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise for cure on exercise depend; God never made his work for man to mend.

THE WIDOW

In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my time, it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than a disappointment in love. It happened this evening that we fell into a very pleasing walk at a distance from his house. As soon as we came into it, "It is," quoth the good oldman, looking round him with a smile, "very hard, that any part of my land should be settled upon one who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I could not see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I should reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. You are to know this was the place wherein Iused to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come into it, but the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had actually walked with that beautiful creature under these shades.I have been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several of these trees; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt the removing of their passions by the methods which serve only to imprint it deeper. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world."

Here followed a profound silence; and I was not displeased to observe my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever before taken notice he industriously avoided. After avery long pause he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life, with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had ever had before; and gave me the picture of that chearful mind of his, before it received that stroke which has ever since affected his words and actions. Bu the went on as follows:

"I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good neighbourhood, for the sake of my fame; andin country sports and recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my servants, officers, and whole equipage,indulged the pleasure of a young man (who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public occasion of shewing my figure and behaviour to advantage. You may easily imagine to your self what appearance I made, who am pretty tall, rid well,and was very well dressed, at the head of a whole county, with musick before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted.I can assure you I was not a little pleased with the kind look sand glances I had from all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall where the assizes were held. But when I came there, a beautiful creature in a widow's habit sat in court, to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This commanding creature(who was born for the destruction of all who behold her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the whispers of all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, till she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it, but I bowed like a great surprised booby; and knowing her cause to be the first which came on, I cried, like a captivated calf as I was! 'Make way for the defendant's witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county see the sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow. During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took opportunities to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned,you must know, by acting before so much company, that not only I but the whole court was prejudiced in her favour; and all that the next heir to her husband had to urge, was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when it came to her counsel to reply, there was not half so much said as every one besides inthe court thought he could have urged to her advantage. You must understand, Sir, this perverse woman is one of those unaccountable creatures, that secretly rejoice in the admiration of men, but indulge themselves in no further consequences. Hence it is that she has ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her slaves in town to those in the country, according to the seasons of the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures of friendship. She is always accompanied by a confident, who is witness to her daily protestations against our sex, and consequently a bar to her first steps towards love, upon the strength of her own maxims and declarations.

"However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress of mine has distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir Roger de Coverley was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes in the country. I was told she said so, by one who thought he rallied me; but upon the strength of this slender encouragement of being thought least detestable, I made new liveries, new-pair'd my coach horses, sent them all to town to be bitted and taught to throw their legs well, and move all together, before I pretended to cross the country, and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the character of my fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make my addresses. The particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame your wishes, and yet command respect. To make her mistress of this art, she has a greater share of knowledge, wit,and good sense, than is usual even among men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the race of women. If you won't let her goon with a certain artifice with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm herself with her real charms, and strike you with admiration instead of desire. It is certain that if you were to behold the whole woman, there is that dignity in her aspect, that composure in her motion, that complacency in her manner, that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes you fear. But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no country-gentleman can approach her without being a jest. As Iwas going to tell you, when I came to her house I was admitted to her presence with great civility; at the same time she placed herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude, as I think you call the posture of a picture, that she discovered new charms, and I at last came towards her with such an awe as mademe speechless. This she no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a discourse to me concerning love and honour, as they both are followed by pretenders and the real votaries to them. When she discussed these points in a discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as the best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, she asked me whether she was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these important particulars. Her confident sat by her, and upon my being in the last confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers turning to her says, 'I am very glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon this subject, and seems resolved to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when he pleases to speak.' They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in her way, and she as often has directed a discourse to me which I do not understand. This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most beautiful object my eyes ever be held. It is thus also she deals with all mankind, and you must make love to her, as you would conquer the sphinx, by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man be, who could converse with the creature--But, after all, you may be sure her heart is fixed on some one or other; and yet I have been credibly inform'd; but who can believe half that is said? After she had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom and adjusted her tucker. Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon mybe holding her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently; her voice in her ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the country. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. I can assure you, Sir,were you to behold her, you would be in the same condition; for as her speech is music, her form is angelic. But I find I grow irregular while I am talking of her; but indeed it would be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh the excellent creature! she is as inimitable to all women, as she is inaccessible to all men.

I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him towards the house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which appears in some parts of my friend's discourse; tho' he has so much command of himself as not directly to mention her, yet according to that of Martial, which one knows not how to render into English, DUM TACET HANC LOQUITUR. I shall end this paper with that whole epigram, which represents with much humour my honest friend's condition.

QUICQUID AGIT RUFUS, NIHIL EST, NISI NAEVIA RUFO, SI GAUDET, SI FLET, SI TACET, HANC LOQUITUR: CAENAT, PROPINAT, POSCET, NEGAT, ANNUIT, UNA EST NAEVIA; SI NON SIT NAEVIA, MUTUS ERIT. SCRIBERET HESTERNA PATRI CUM LUCE SALUTEM, NAEVIA LUX, INQUIT, NAEVIA NUMEN AVE. Epig. 69, 1. I.

Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit or walk, Still he can nothing but of NAEVIA talk; Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute, Still he must speak of NAEVIA, or be mute. He write to his father, ending with this line, "I am, my lovely NAEVIA, ever thine."

by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele
(Originally published in THE SPECTATOR)

I am always very well pleased with a country Sunday, and think, if keeping holy the seventh day were only a human institution, it would be the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing and civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such frequent returns of a stated time, in which the whole village meet together with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon indifferent subjects, hear their duties explained to them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme Being.Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as itrefreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms, andexerting all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure inthe eye of the village. A country-fellow distinguishes him self as much in the Church-yard, as a citizen does upon the Change,the whole parish-politicks being generally discussed in that place either after sermon or before the bell rings.

My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, has beautified the inside of his church with several texts of his own choosing. He has likewise given a handsome pulpit-cloth, and railed in thecommunion-table at his own expense. He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he found his parishioners very irregular; and that in order to make them kneel and join in their responses, he gave every one of them a hassock and a common prayer-book: and at the same time employed an itinerant singing-master, who goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in the tunes of the psalms; upon which they now verymuch value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the country churches that I have ever heard.

As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps the min very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if by chance he has been surprised into a short napat sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees any body else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to them. Several other of the oldKnight's particularities break out upon these occasions.Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing-psalms, half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it; sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter ofhis devotion, he pronounces Amen three or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes stands up when every body else is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or see if any of histenants are missing.

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Mathews to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congregation. This John Mathews it seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the Knight, though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his behaviour; besides that the general good sense and worthiness of his character makes his friends observe these little singularities as foils that rather set off than blemish his good qualities.

As soon as the sermon is finished, no body presumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The Knight walks down fromhis seat in the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each side; and every now and then enquire show such an one's wife, or mother, or son, or father do, whom he does not see at church; which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent.
The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next day for his encouragement;and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five pounds a year to the clerk's place; and that he may encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the church service, has promised upon the death of the present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit.

The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more remarkable,because the very next village is famous for the differences and contentions that rise between the parson and the 'squire, wholive in a perpetual state of war. The parson is always preaching at the 'squire, and the 'squire to be revenged on the parsonnever comes to church. The 'squire has made all his tenants at heists and tithe-stealers; while the Parson instructs themevery Sunday in the dignity of his order, and insinuates to the min almost every sermon, that he is a better man than his patron.In short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the 'squire has not said his prayers either in publick or private this half year; and that the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face of the whole congregation.

Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, are very fatal to the ordinary people; who are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much deference to the understanding of a man of an estate, as of a man of learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how important soever it maybe, that is preached to them, when they know there are several men of five hundred a year who do not believe it.

by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele
(Originally published in THE SPECTATOR)

I was this morning walking in the gallery when Sir Roger enteredat the end opposite to me, and advancing towards me, said he wasglad to meet me among his relations the De Coverleys, and hoped Iliked the conversation of so much good company, who were assilent as myself. I knew he alluded to the pictures, and as heis a gentleman who does not a little value himself upon hisancient descent, I expected he would give me some account ofthem. We were now arrived at the upper-end of the gallery, whenthe Knight faced towards one of the pictures, and as we stoodbefore it he entered into the matter, after his blunt way ofsaying things, as they occur to his imagination, without regularintroduction, or care to preserve the appearance of chain ofthought.

"It is," said he, "worth while to consider the force of dress;and how the persons of one age differ from those of another,merely by that only. One may observe also, that the generalfashion of one age has been followed by one particular set ofpeople in another, and by them preserved from one generation toanother. Thus the vast jetting coat and small bonnet, which wasthe habit in Harry the seventh's time, is kept on in the yeomenof the guard; not without a good and politick view, because theylook a foot taller, and a foot and an half broader. Besides thatthe cap leaves the face expanded, and consequently more terrible,and fitter to stand at the entrances of palaces.

"This predecessor of ours, you see, is dressed after this manner,and his cheeks would be no larger than mine, were he in a hat asI am. He was the last man that won a prize in the tilt-yard(which is now a common street before Whitehall). You see thebroken lance that lies there by his right foot; he shiver'd thatlance of his adversary all to pieces; and bearing himself, lookyou, Sir, in this manner, at the same time he came within thetarget of the gentleman who rode against him, and taking him withincredible force before him on the pommel of his saddle, he inthat manner rid the turnament over, with an air that shewed hedid it rather to perform the rule of the lists, than expose hisenemy; however, it appeared he knew how to make use of a victory,and with a gentle trot he marched up to a gallery where theirmistress sat (for they were rivals) and let him down withlaudable courtesy and pardonable insolence. I don't know but itmight be exactly where the coffee-house is now.

"You are to know this my ancestor was not only of a militarygenius, but fit also for the arts of peace, for he played on thebass-viol as well as any gentleman at court; you see where hisviol hangs by his basket-hilt sword. The action at the tilt-yardyou may be sure won the fair lady, who was a maid of honour, andthe greatest beauty of her time; here she stands the nextpicture. You see, Sir, my great-great-great-grandmother has onthe new-fashion'd petticoat, except that the modern is gather'dat the waist; my grandmother appears as if she stood in a largedrum, whereas the ladies now walk as if they were in a go-cart.For all this lady was bred at court, she became an excellentcountry-wife, she brought ten children, and when I shew you thelibrary, you shall see in her own hand (allowing for thedifference of the language) the best receipt now in England bothfor an hasty-pudding and a white-pot.

"If you please to fall back a little, because 'tis necessary tolook at the three next pictures at one view; these are threesisters. She on the right hand, who is so very beautiful, died amaid; the next to her, still handsomer, had the same fate againsther will; this homely thing in the middle had both their portionsadded to her own, and was stolen by a neighbouring gentleman, aman of stratagem and resolution, for he poisoned three mastiffsto come at her, and knocked down two deer-stealers in carryingher off. Misfortunes happen in all families: the theft of thisromp and so much money, was no great matter to our estate. Butthe next heir that possessed it was this soft gentleman, whom yousee there: observe the small buttons, the little boots, thelaces, the slashes about his clothes, and above all the posturehe is drawn in (which to be sure was his own choosing); you see he sits with one hand on a desk writing and looking as it wereanother way, like an easy writer, or a sonneteer. He was one ofthose that had too much wit to know how to live in the world; hewas a man of no justice, but great good manners; he ruined everybody that had any thing to do with him, but never said a rudething in his life; the most indolent person in the world, hewould sign a deed that passed away half his estate with hisgloves on, but would not put on his hat before a lady if it wereto save his country. He is said to be the first that made loveby squeezing the hand. He left the estate with ten thousandpounds debt upon it; but, however, by all hands I have beeninformed that he was every way the finest gentleman in the world.That debt lay heavy on our house for one generation, but it wasretrieved by a gift from that honest man you see there, a citizenof our name, but nothing at all akin to us. I know Sir AndrewFreeport had said behind my back, that this man was descendedfrom one of the ten children of the maid of honour I shewed youabove; but it was never made out. We winked at the thing indeed,because money was wanting at that time."

Here I saw my friend a little embarrassed, and turned my face tothe next portraiture.

Sir Roger went on with his account of the gallery in thefollowing manner. "This man (pointing to him I looked at) I taketo be the honour of our house. Sir Humphrey de Coverley; he wasin his dealings as punctual as a tradesman and as generous as agentleman. He would have thought himself as much undone bybreaking his word, as if it were to be followed by bankruptcy.He served his country as knight of this shire to his dying day.He found it no easy matter to maintain an integrity in his wordsand actions, even in things that regarded the offices which wereincumbent upon him, in the care of his own affairs and relationsof life, and therefore dreaded (though he had great talents) togo into employments of state, where he must be exposed to thesnares of ambition. Innocence of life and great ability were thedistinguishing parts of his character; the latter, he had oftenobserved, had led to the destruction of the former, and usedfrequently to lament that great and good had not the samesignification. He was an excellent husbandman, but had resolvednot to exceed such a degree of wealth; all above it he bestowedin secret bounties many years after the sum he aimed at for hisown use was attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, butto a decent old age spent the life and fortune which wassuperfluous to himself, in the service of his friends and neighbours."

Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Roger ended the discourseof this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the servant,that this his ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly escapedbeing killed in the civil wars; "For," said he, "he was sent outof the field upon a private message, the day before the battle ofWorcester." The whim of narrowly escaping by having been within aday of danger, with other matters above mentioned, mixed withgood sense, left me at a loss whether I was more delighted withmy friend's wisdom or simplicity.

by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele

I was yesterday morning walking with Sir Roger before his house,a country-fellow brought him a huge fish, which, he told him, Mr.William Wimble had caught that very morning; and that hepresented it, with his service to him, and intended to come anddine with him. At the same time he delivered a letter which myfriend read to me as soon as the messenger left him.

"Sir Roger,
"I desire you to accept of a jack, which is the best I havecaught this season. I intend to come and stay with you a week,and see how the perch bite in the Black River. I observed withsome concern, the last time I saw you upon the bowling-green,that your whip wanted a lash to it; I will bring half a dozenwith me that I twisted last week, which I hope will serve you allthe time you are in the country. I have not been out of thesaddle for six days last past, having been at Eaton with SirJohn's eldest son. He takes to his learning hugely.
"I am, Sir, your humble servant,
"Will Wimble."

This extraordinary letter, and message that accompanied it, mademe very curious to know the character and quality of thegentleman who sent them; which I found to be as follows. WillWimble is younger brother to a baronet, and descended of theancient family of the Wimbles. He is now between forty andfifty; but being bred to no business and born to no estate, hegenerally lives with his elder brother as superintendent of hisgame. He hunts a pack of dogs better than any man in thecountry, and is very famous for finding out a hare. He isextremely well versed in all the little handicrafts of an idleman: he makes a Mayfly to a miracle; and furnishes the wholecountry with angle-rods. As he is a good-natur'd officiousfellow, and very much esteem'd upon account of his family, he isa welcome guest at every house, and keeps up a goodcorrespondence among all the gentlemen about him. He carries atulip-root in his pocket from one to another, or exchanges apuppy between a couple of friends that live perhaps in theopposite sides of the county. Will is a particular favourite ofall the young heirs, whom he frequently obliges with a net thathe has weaved, or a setting-dog that he has made himself. He nowand then presents a pair of garters of his own knitting to theirmothers or sisters; and raises a great deal of mirth among them,by enquiring as often as he meets them how they wear! Thesegentlemen-like manufactures and obliging little humours make Willthe darling of the country.

Sir Roger was proceeding in the character of him, when we saw himmake up to us with two or three hazel-twigs in his hand that hehad cut in Sir Roger's woods, as he came through them, in his wayto the house. I was very much pleased to observe on one side thehearty and sincere welcome with which Sir Roger received him, andon the other, the secret joy which his guest discover'd at sightof the good old Knight. After the first salutes were over, Willdesired Sir Roger to lend him one of his servants to carry a setof shuttle-cocks he had with him in a little box to a lady thatlived about a mile off, to whom it seems he had promised such apresent for above this half year. Sir Roger's back was no soonerturned but honest Will began to tell me of a large cock-pheasantthat he had sprung in one of the neighbouring woods, with two orthree other adventures of the same nature. Odd and uncommoncharacters are the game I looked for, and most delight in; forwhich reason I was as much pleased with the novelty of the personthat talked to me, as he could be for his life with the springingof a pheasant, and therefore listen'd to him with more thanordinary attention.

In the midst of his discourse the bell rung to dinner, where thegentleman I have been speaking of had the pleasure of seeing thehuge jack, he had caught, served up for the first dish in a mostsumptuous manner. Upon our sitting down to it he gave us a longaccount how he had hooked it, played with it, foiled it, and atlength drew it out upon the bank, with several other particularsthat lasted all the first course. A dish of wild fowl that cameafterwards furnished conversation for the rest of the dinner,which concluded with a late invention of Will's for improving thequail-pipe.

Upon withdrawing into my room after dinner, I was secretlytouched with compassion towards the honest gentleman that haddined with us; and could not but consider, with a great deal ofconcern, how so good an heart and such busy hands were whollyemployed in trifles; that so much humanity should be so littlebeneficial to others, and so much industry so little advantageousto himself. The same temper of mind and application to affairsmight have recommended him to the publick esteem, and have raisedhis fortune in another station of life. What good to his countryor himself might not a trader or merchant have done with suchuseful tho' ordinary qualifications?

Will Wimble's is the case of many a younger brother of a greatfamily, who had rather see their children starve like gentlemen,than thrive in a trade or profession that is beneath theirquality. This humour fills several parts of Europe with prideand beggary. It is the happiness of a trading nation, like ours,that the younger sons, tho' uncapable of any liberal art orprofession, may be placed in such a way of life as may perhapsenable them to vie with the best of their family. Accordingly,we find several citizens that were launched into the world withnarrow fortunes, rising by an honest industry to greater estatesthan those of their elder brothers. It is not improbable butWill was formerly tried at divinity, law, or physick; and thatfinding his genius did not lie that way, his parents gave him upat length to his own inventions. But certainly, however improperhe might have been for studies of a higher nature, he wasperfectly well turned for the occupations of trade and commerce.As I think this is a point which cannot be too much inculcated, Ishall desire my reader to compare what I have here written withwhat I have said in my twenty-first speculation.

by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele
(Originally published in THE SPECTATOR)

Having often received an invitation from my friend Sir Roger deCoverley to pass away a month with him in the country, I lastweek accompanied him thither, and am settled with him for sometime at his country-house, where I intend to form several of myensuing Speculations. Sir Roger, who is very well acquaintedwith my humour, lets me rise and go to bed when I please, dine athis own table or in my chamber as I think fit, sit still and saynothing without bidding me be merry. When the gentlemen of thecountry come to see him, he only shews me at a distance. As Ihave been walking in his fields I have observed them stealing asight of me over an hedge, and have heard the Knight desiringthem not to let me see them, for that I hated to be stared at.I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because it consistsof sober and staid persons; for as the Knight is the best masterin the world, he seldom changes his servants; and as he isbeloved by all about him, his servants never care for leavinghim; by this means his domesticks are all in years, and grown oldwith their master. You would take his valet de chambre for hisbrother, his butler is gray-headed, his groom is one of thegravest men that I have ever seen, and his coachman has the looksof a privy-counsellor. You see the goodness of the master evenin the old house-dog, and in a gray pad that is kept in thestable with great care and tenderness out of regard to his pastservices, tho' he has been useless for several years.

I could not but observe with a great deal of pleasure the joythat appeared in the countenance of these ancient domesticks uponmy friend's arrival at his country-seat. Some of them could notrefrain from tears at the sight of their old master; every one ofthem press'd forward to do something for him, and seemeddiscouraged if they were not employed. At the same time the goodold Knight, with the mixture of the father and the master of thefamily, tempered the enquiries after his own affairs with severalkind questions relating to themselves. This humanity and good-nature engages every body to him, so that when he is pleasantupon any of them, all his family are in good humour, and none somuch as the person whom he diverts himself with. On thecontrary, if he coughs, or betrays any infirmity of old age, itis easy for a stander-by to observe a secret concern in the looksof all his servants.

My worthy friend has put me under the particular care of hisbutler, who is a very prudent man, and, as well as the rest ofhis fellow-servants, wonderfully desirous of pleasing me, becausethey have often heard their master talk of me as of hisparticular friend.

My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting himself in thewoods or the fields, is a very venerable man who is ever with SirRoger, and has lived at his house in the nature of a chaplainabove thirty years. This gentleman is a person of good sense andsome learning, of a very regular life and obliging conversation.He heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows that he is very much inthe old Knight's esteem, so that he lives in the family rather asa relation than a dependent.

I have observed in several of my papers, that my friend SirRoger, amidst all his good qualities, is something of anhumorist; and that his virtues, as well as imperfections, are asit were tinged by a certain extravagance, which makes themparticularly HIS, and distinguishes them from those of other men.This cast of mind, as it is generally very innocent in itself, soit renders his conversation highly agreeable, and more delightfulthan the same degree of sense and virtue would appear in theircommon and ordinary colours. As I was walking with him lastnight, he asked me how I liked the good man whom I have just nowmentioned? and without staying for my answer told me, That hewas afraid of being insulted with Latin and Greek at his owntable; for which reason he desired a particular friend of his atthe University to find him out a clergyman rather of plain sensethan much learning, of a good aspect, a clear voice, a sociabletemper, and, if possible, a man that understood a little ofbackgammon. My friend, says Sir Roger, found me out thisgentleman, who, besides the endowments required of him, is, theytell me, a good scholar, tho' he does not shew it. I have givenhim the parsonage of the parish; and because I know his value,have settled upon him a good annuity for life. If he outlivesme, he shall find that he was higher in my esteem than perhaps hethinks he is. He has now been with me thirty years; and tho' hedoes not know I have taken notice of it, has never in all thattime asked anything of me for himself, tho' he is every daysoliciting me for some thing in behalf of one or other of mytenants his parishioners. There has not been a law-suit in theparish since he has liv'd among them. If any dispute arises theyapply themselves to him for the decision; if they do notacquiesce in his judgment, which I think never happened aboveonce or twice at most, they appeal to me. At his first settlingwith me, I made him a present of all the good sermons which havebeen printed in English, and only begg'd of him that every Sundayhe would pronounce one of them in the pulpit. Accordingly, hehas digested them into such a series, that they follow oneanother naturally, and make a continued system of practical divinity.

As Sir Roger was going on in his story, the gentleman we weretalking of came up to us; and upon the Knight's asking him whopreached to tomorrow (for it was Saturday night) told us, theBishop of St. Asaph in the morning, and Dr. South in theafternoon. He then shewed us his list of preachers for the wholeyear, where I saw with a great deal of pleasure ArchbishopTillotson, Bishop Saunderson, Dr. Barrow, Dr. Calamy, withseveral living authors who have published discourses of practicaldivinity. I no sooner saw this venerable man in the pulpit, butI very much approved of my friend's insisting upon thequalifications of a good aspect and a clear voice; for I was socharmed with the gracefulness of his figure and delivery, as wellas with the discourses he pronounced, that I think I never passedany time more to my satisfaction. A sermon repeated after thismanner, is like the composition of a poet in the mouth of agraceful actor.

I could heartily wish that more of our country-clergy wouldfollow this example; and instead of wasting their spirits inlaborious compositions of their own, would endeavour after ahandsome elocution, and all those other talents that are properto enforce what has been penned by greater masters. This wouldnot only be more easy to themselves, but more edifying to thepeople.

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