judgment of his neighbour's sufferings; for which reason also I have determined never to think too lightly of another's complaints, but to regard the sorrows of my fellowcreatures with sentiments of humanity and compassion. O. Verba intermissa retentat. Ovid, Met. Lib. i. 746. He tries his tongue, his silence softly breaks. no sooner taken upon him my short face, but he made such a grotesque figure in it, that as I looked upon him I could not forbear laughing at myself, insomuch that I put my own face out of countenance. The poor gentleman was so sensible of the ridicule, that I found he was ashamed of what he had done: on the other side, I found that I myself had no great reason to triumph, No. 560.] Monday, June 28, 1714. for as I went to touch my forehead I missed the place, and clapped my finger upon my upper lip. Besides, as my nose was exceeding prominent, I gave it two or three unlucky knocks as I was playing my hand Dryden. about my face, and aiming at some other EVERY one has heard of the famous conpart of it. I saw two other gentlemen by juror, who, according to the opinion of the me who were in the same ridiculous cir-vulgar, has studied himself dumb: for cumstances. These had made a foolish which reason, as it is believed, he delivers swap between a couple of thick bandy legs out his oracles in writing. Be that as it and two long trap-sticks that had no calves will, the blind Tiresias was not more fato them. One of these looked like a man mous in Greece than this dumb artist has walking upon stilts, and was so lifted up been for some years last past in the cities of into the air, above his ordinary height, that London and Westminster. Thus much for his head turned round with it; while the the profound gentleman who honours me other made such awkward circles, as he with the following epistle. attempted to walk, that he scarcely knew how to move forward upon his new supporters. Observing him to be a pleasant kind of fellow, I stuck my cane on the ground, and told him I would lay him a bottle of wine that he did not march up to it on a line that I drew for him in a quarter of an hour. The heap was at last distributed among the two sexes, who made a most piteous sight, as they wandered up and down under the pressure of their several burdens. The whole plain was filled with murmurs and complaints, groans and lamentations. Jupiter at length taking compassion on the poor mortals, ordered them a second time to lay down their loads, with a design to give every one his own again. They discharged themselves with a great deal of pleasure: after which, the phantom who had led them into such gross delusion was commanded to disappear. There was sent in her stead a goddess of a quite different figure; her motions were steady and composed, and her aspect serious but cheerful. She every now and then cast her eyes towards heaven, and fixed them upon Jupiter: her name was Patience. She had no sooner placed herself by the Mount of Sorrows, but, what I thought very remarkable, the whole heap sunk to such a degree, that it did not appear a third part so big as it was before. She afterwards returned every man his own proper calamity, and teaching him how to bear it in the most commodious manner, he marched off with it contentedly, being very well pleased that he had not been left to his own choice as to the kind of evil which fell to his lot. Besides the several pieces of morality to be drawn out of this vision, I learnt from it never to repine at my own misfortunes, or to envy the happiness of another, since it is impossible for any man to form a right. From my cell, June 24, 1714. 'SIR,-Being informed that you have lately got the use of your tongue, I have some thoughts of following your example, that I may be a fortune-teller, properly speaking. I am grown weary of my taciturnity, and having served my country many years under the title of "the dumb doctor," I shall now prophesy by word of mouth, and (as Mr. Lee says of the magpie, who you know was a great fortune-teller among the ancients) chatter futurity. I have hitherto chosen to receive questions and return answers in writing, that I might avoid the tediousness and trouble of debates, my querists being generally of a humour to think that they have never predictions enough for their money. In short, sir, my case has been something like that of those discreet animals the monkeys, who, as the Indians tell us, can speak if they would, but purposely avoid it that they may not be made to work. I have hitherto gained a livelihood by holding my tongue, but shall now open my mouth in order to fill it. If I appear a little word-bound in my first solutions and responses, I hope it will not be imputed to any want of foresight, but to the long disuse of speech. I doubt not by this invention to have all my former customers over again; for, if I have promised any of them lovers or husbands, riches or good luck, it is my design to confirm to them, viva voce, what I have already given them under my hand. If you will honour me with a visit, I will compliment you with the first opening of my mouth: and if you please, you may make an entertaining dialogue out of the conversation of two dumb men. Excuse this trouble, worthy sir, from one who has been a long time, your silent admirer, 'CORNELIUS AGRIPPA, I have received the following letter, or rather billet-doux, from a pert young baggage, who congratulates with me upon the same occasion. June 23, 1714. 'DEAR MR. PRATE-APACE,-I am a member of a female society who call ourselves the Chit-chat club, and am ordered mind to pass for a Bantamite, or to make -Paulatim abolere Sichæum by the whole sisterhood to congratulate No. 561.] Wednesday, June 30, 1714. you upon the use of your tongue. We have all of us a mighty mind to hear you talk; and if you will take your place among us for an evening, we have unanimously agreed to allow you one minute in ten, without interruption. I am, sir, your humble servant, S. T. 'P. S. You may find us at my lady Betty Clack's, who will leave orders with her porter, that if an elderly gentleman, with a short face, inquires for her, he shall be admitted, and no questions asked.' As this particular paper shall consist wholly of what I have received from my correspondents, I shall fill up the remaining part of it with other congratulatory letters of the same nature. 'Oxford, June 25, 1714. 'SIR,-We are here wonderfully pleased with the opening of your mouth, and very frequently open ours in approbation of your design; especially since we find you are resolved to preserve your taciturnity as to all party matters. We do not question but you are as great an orator as sir Hudibras, of whom the poet sweetly sings. He could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope." But he Works in the pliant bosom of the fair, care. The dead is to the living love resign'd, SIR,-I am a tall, broad-shouldered, impudent, black fellow, and as I thought, every way qualified for a rich widow: but after having tried my fortune for above three years together, I have not been able to get one single relict in the mind. My first attacks were generally successful, but always broke off as soon as they came to the word settlement. Though I have not improved my fortune this way, I have my experience, and have learnt several secrets which may be of use to these unhappy gentlemen, who are commonly distinguished by the name of widow-hunters, and who do not know that this tribe of women are, generally speaking, as much upon the catch as themselves. I shall here communicate to you the mysteries of a certain female cabal of this order, who call themselves the Widow-club. This club consists of nine experienced dames, who take their places once a week round a large oval table. 1. Mrs. President is a person who has disposed of six husbands, and is now determined to take a seventh; being of opinion that there is as much virtue in the touch of a seventh husband as of a seventh son. Her comrades are as follow: If you will send us down the half dozen well-turned periods, that produced such dismal effects in your muscles, we will deposit them near an old manuscript of Tully's orations, among the archives of the university; for we all agree with you, that there is not a more remarkable accident recorded in history, since that which happened to the son of Croesus; nay, I be- 2. Mrs. Snap, who has four jointures, lieve you might have gone higher, and by four different bed-fellows, of four difhave added Balaam's ass. We are im-ferent shires. She is at present upon the patient to see more of your productions; and expect what words will next fall from you with as much attention as those who were set to watch the speaking head which friar Bacon formerly erected in this place. We are, worthy sir, your most humble B. R. T. D. &c.' servants, 'Middle-Temple, June 24. HONEST SPEC,-I am very glad to hear that thou beginnest to prate; and find, by thy yesterday's vision, thou art so used to it, that thou canst not forbear talking in thy sleep. Let me only advise thee to speak like other men; for I am afraid thou wilt be very queer, if thou dost not intend to use the phrases in fashion, as thou callest them in thy second paper. point of marriage with a Middlesex man, and is said to have an ambition of extending her possessions through all the counties in England on this side the Trent. 3. Mrs. Medlar, who, after two husbands and a gallant, is now wedded to an old gentleman of sixty. Upon her making her report to the club after a week's cohabitation, she is still allowed to sit as a widow, and accordingly takes her place at the board. 4. The widow Quick, married within a fortnight after the death of her last husband. Her weeds have served her thrice, and are still as good as new. 5. Lady Catherine Swallow. She was a widow at eighteen, and has since buried Hast thou a la second husband and two coachmen, 6. The lady Waddle. She was mar-picture, and set it round with her husband's ried in the fifteenth year of her age to Sir in miniature. Simon Waddle, knight, aged threescore and twelve, by whom she had twins nine months after his decease. In the fifty-fifth year of her age she was married to James Spindle, Esq. a youth of one-and-twenty, who did not outlive the honey-moon. 7. Deborah Conquest. The case of this lady is something particular. She is the relict of Sir Sampson Conquest, some time justice of the quorum. Sír Sampson was seven foot high, and two foot in breadth from the tip of one shoulder to the other. He had married three wives, who all of them died in child-bed. This terrified the whole sex, who none of them durst venture on Sir Sampson. At length Mrs. Deborah undertook him, and gave so good an account of him, that in three year's time she very fairly laid him out, and measured his length upon the ground. This exploit has gained her so great a reputation in the club, that they have added Sir Sampson's three victories to her's, and give her the merit of a fourth widowhood; and she takes her place accordingly. 'As they have most of them the misfortune to be troubled with the colick, they have a noble cellar of cordials and strong waters. When they grow maudlin, they are very apt to commemorate their former partners with a tear. But ask them which of their husbands they condole, they are not able to tell you, and discover plainly that they do not weep so much for the loss of a husband as for the want of one. 'The principal rule by which the whole society are to govern themselves, is this, to cry up the pleasures of a single life upon all occasions, in order to deter the rest of their sex from marriage, and engross the whole male world to themselves. 'They are obliged, when any one makes love to a member of the society, to communicate his name, at which the whole assembly sit upon his reputation, person, fortune, and good humour, and if they find him qualified for a sister of the club, they lay their heads together how to make him sure. By this means they are acquainted with all the widow-hunters about town, who often afford them great diversion. There is an honest Irish gentleman, it seems, who knows nothing of this society, but at different times has made love to the whole club. 8. The widow Wildfire, relict of Mr. John Wildfire, fox-hunter, who broke his neck over a six-bar gate. She took his death so much to heart, that it was thought it would have put an end to her life, had she not diverted her sorrows by receiving "Their conversation often turns upon the addresses of a gentleman in the neigh-their former husbands, and it is very bourhood, who made love to her in the diverting to hear them relate their several second month of her widowhood. The arts and stratagems with which they gentleman was discarded in a fortnight for amused the jealous, pacified the choleric, the sake of a young templar, who had the or wheedled the good-natured man, till at possession of her for six weeks after, till he last, to use the club phrase, "they sent was beaten out by a broken officer, who him out of the house with his heels forelikewise gave up his place to a gentleman most." at court. The courtier was as short-lived a favourite as his predecessors, but had the pleasure to see himself succeeded by a long series of lovers, who followed the widow Wildfire to the thirty-seventh year of her age, at which time there ensued a cessation of ten years, when John Felt, haberdasher, took it in his head to be in love with her, and it is thought will very suddenly carry her off. 'The politics which are most cultivated by this society of she-Machiavels relate chiefly to these two points, how to treat a lover, and how to manage a husband. As for the first set of artifices, they are too numerous to come within the compass of your paper, and shall therefore be reserved for a second letter. 'The management of a husband is built upon the following doctrines, which are 9. The last is pretty Mrs. Runnet, who universally assented to by the whole club. broke her first husband's heart before she Not to give him his head at first. Not to was sixteen, at which time she was entered allow him too great freedoms and familiariof the club, but soon after left it upon ac-ties. Not to be treated by him like a raw count of a second, whom she made so quick girl, but as a woman that knows the world. a despatch of, that she returned to her Not to lessen any thing of her former seat in less than a twelvemonth. This young matron is looked upon as the most rising member of the society, and will probably be in the president's chair before she dies. figure. To celebrate the generosity, or any other virtue, of a deceased husband, which she would recommend to his successor. To turn away all his old friends and servants, that she may have the dear man to herself. To make him disinherit the undutiful children of any former wife. Never to be thoroughly convinced of his affection, until he has made over to her all his goods and chattels. 'After so long a letter, I am, without more ceremony, your humble servant, &c.' Ter. Eun. Act i. Sc. 2. -Præsens, absens ut sies. Be present as if absent. 'IT is a hard and nice subject for a man to speak of himself,' says Cowley; it grates his own heart to say any thing of disparagement, and the reader's ears to hear any thing of praise from him.' Let the tenour of his discourse be what it will upon this subject, it generally proceeds from vanity. An ostentatious man will rather relate a blunder or an absurdity he has committed, than be debarred of talking of his own dear person. when you look into it, you are sure to meet with more upon Monsieur Montaigne than of either of them. The younger Scaliger, who seems to have been no great friend to this author, after having acquainted the world that his father sold herrings, adds these words: La grande fadaise de Montaigne, qui a écrit qu'il aimoit mieux le viz blanc.-Que diable a-t-on à faire de sçavoir ce qu'il aime? For my part,' says Montaigne, I am a great lover of your white wines.'-'What the devil signifies it to the public,' says Scaliger, whether he is a lover of white wines or of red wines?' I cannot here forbear mentioning a tribe of egotists, for whom I have always had a mortal aversion-I mean the authors of memoirs, who are never mentioned in any works but their own, and who raise all their productions out of this single figure of speech. Most of our modern prefaces savour very strongly of the egotism. Every insignificant author fancies it of importance to the world to know that he writ his book in the country, that he did it to pass away some of his idle hours, that it was published at the importunity of friends, or that his natural temper, studies, or conversations, directed him to the choice of his subject: Some very great writers have been guilty of this fault. It is observed of Tully in particular, that his works run very much in the first person, and that he takes all occasions of doing himself justice. Does he think,' says Brutus, that his consulship deserves more applause than my putting Cæsar to death, because I am not perpetually talking of the ides of March, as he is of the nones of December?' I need not acquaint my learned reader, that in the ides of March, Brutus destroyed Cæsar, and that Cicero quashed the conspiracy of Catiline in the calends of December. How shocking soever this great man's talking of| himself might have been to his contemporaries, I must confess I am never better pleased than when he is on this subject. Such openings of the heart give a man a In works of humour especially, when a thorough insight into his personal charac-man writes under a fictitious personage, the ter, and illustrate several passages in the talking of one's self may give some diversion history of his life; besides that, there is to the public; but I would advise every some little pleasure in discovering the in- other writer never to speak of himself, unfirmity of a great man, and seeing how the less there be something very considerable opinion he has of himself agrees with what in his character; though I am sensible this the world entertains of him. rule will be of little use in the world, because there is no man who fancies his thoughts worth publishing that does not look upon himself as a considerable person. The gentlemen of Port Royal, who were more eminent for their learning and for their humility than any other in France, banished the way of speaking in the first person out of all their works, as rising from vain-glory and self-conceit. To show their particular aversion to it, they branded this form of writing with the name of an egotism; a figure not to be found among the ancient rhetoricians. The most violent egotism which I have met with in the course of my reading, is that of Cardinal Wolscy, ego et rex meus, 'I and my king;' as perhaps the most eminent egotist that ever appeared in the world was Montaigne, the author of the celebrated Essays. This lively old Gascon has woven all his bodily infirmities into his works; and, after having spoken of the faults or virtues of any other men, immediately publishes to the world how it stands with himself in that particular. Had he kept his own counsel, he might have passed for a much better man, though perhaps he would not have been so diverting an author. The title of an Essay promises perhaps a discourse upon Virgil or Julius Cæsar; but, -Id populus curat scilicet.' Such informations cannot but be highly improving to the reader. I shall close this paper with a remark upon such as are egotists in conversation: these are generally the vain or shallow part of mankind, people being naturally full of themselves when they have nothing else in them. There is one kind of egotist which is very common in the world, though I do not remember that any writer has taken notice of them; I mean those empty conceited fellows who repeat, as sayings of their own, or some of their particular friends, several jests which were made before they were born, and which every one who has conversed in the world has heard a hundred times over. A forward young fellow of my acquaintance was very guilty of this absurdity: he would be always laying a new scene for some old piece of wit, and telling us, that, as he and Jack Sucha-one were together, one or t'other of them had such a conceit on such an occasion: upon which he would laugh very heartily, and wonder the company did not join with him. When his mirth was over, I have に often reprehended him out of Terence, | Blanks are those who are planted in high Tuumne, obsecro te, hoc dictum erat? vetus credidi. But finding him still incorrigible, and having a kindness for the young coxcomb, who was otherwise a good-natured fellow, I recommended to his perusal the Oxford and Cambridge jests, with several little pieces of pleasantry of the same nature. Upon the reading of them, he was under no small confusion to find that all his jokes had passed through several editions, and that what he thought a new conceit, and had appropriated to his own use, had appeared in print before he or his ingenious friends were ever heard of. This had so good an effect upon him, that he is content at present to pass for a man of plain sense in his ordinary conversation, and is never facetious but when he knows his company. posts, till such time as persons of greater consequence can be found out to supply them. One of these Blanks is equally qualified for all offices; he can serve in time of need for a soldier, a politician, a lawyer, or what you please. I have known in my time many a brother Blank, that has been born under a lucky planet, heap up great riches, and swell into a man of figure and importance, before the grandees of his party could agree among themselves which of them should step into his place. Nay, I have known a Blank continue so long in one of these vacant posts, (for such it is to be reckoned all the time a Blank is in it,) that he has grown too formidable and dangerous to be removed. I SHALL entertain my reader with two very curious letters. The first of them comes from a chimerical person, who, I believe, never writ to any body before. 'SIR,-I am descended from the ancient family of the Blanks, a name well known among all men of business. It is always read in those little white spaces of writing which want to be filled up, and which for that reason are called blank spaces, as of right appertaining to our family: for I consider myself as the lord of a manor, who lays his claim to all wastes or spots of ground that are unappropriated. I am a near kinsman to a John-a-Styles and Johna-Nokes; and they, I am told, came in with the conquer. I am mentioned oftener in both houses of parliament than any other person in Great Britain. My name is written, or, more properly speaking, not written, thus: [ J. I am one that can turn my hand to every thing, and appear under any shape whatsoever. I can make myself man, woman, or child. I am sometimes metamorphosed into a year of our Lord, a day of the month, or an hour of the day. I very often represent a sum of money, and am generally the first subsidy that is granted to the crown. I have now and then supplied the place of several thousands of land-soldiers, and have as frequently been employed in the sea-service. 'Now, sir, my complaint is this, that I am only made use of to serve a turn, being always discarded as soon as a proper person is found out to fill up my place. If you have ever been in the playhouse before the curtain rises, you see the most of the front boxes filled with men of my family, who forth with turn out and resign their stations upon the appearance of those for whom they are retained. 'But the most illustrious branch of the But to return to myself. Since I am so very commodious a person, and so very necessary in all well-regulated governments, I desire you will take my case into consideration, that I may be no longer made a tool of, and only employed to stop a gap. Such usage, without a pun, makes me look very blank. For all which reasons I humbly recommend myself to your protection, and am your most obedient servant, 'BLANK. 'P. S. I herewith send you a paper drawn up by a country-attorney, employed by twc gentlemen, whose names he was not acquainted with, and who did not think fit to let him into the secret which they are transacting, I heard him call it a "blank instrument," and read it after the following manner. You may see by this single instance of what use I am to the busy world. "I, T. Blank, esquire, of Blank town, in the county of Blank, do own myself indebted in the sum of Blank, to Goodman Blank, for the service he did me in procuring for me the goods following; Blank: and I do hereby promise the said Blank to pay unto him the said sum of Blank, on the Blank day of the month of Blank next ensuing, under the penalty and forfeiture of Blank."' I shall take time to consider the case of this my imaginary correspondent, and in the mean while shall present my reader with a letter which seems to come from a person that is made up of flesh and blood. 'GOOD MR. SPECTATOR,-I am married to a very honest gentleman that is exceeding good-natured, and at the same time very choleric. There is no standing before him when he is in a passion; but as soon as it is over he is the best humoured creature in the world. When he is angry he breaks all my china ware that chances to lie in his way, and the next morning sends me in twice as much as he broke the day before. I may positively say, that he has broke me a child's fortune since we were first married together. 'As soon as he begins to fret, down goes |