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whose behalf he engages him, cast kind looks and wishes of success at their champion, he will have some shame, and feel a little of the pain he has so often put others to, of being out of countenance.

It has, indeed, been time out of mind generally remarked, and as often lamented, that this family of Starers have infested public assemblies. I know no other way to obviate so great an evil, except, in the case of fixing their eyes upon women, some male friend will take the part of such as are under the oppression of impudence, and encounter the eyes of the Starers wherever they meet them. While we suffer our women to be thus impudently attacked, they have no defense, but in the end to cast yielding glances at the Starers. In this case a man who has no sense of shame, has the same advantage over his mistress, as he who has no regard for his own life has over his adversary.While the generality of the world are fettered by rules, and move by proper and just methods, he who has no respect to any of them carries away the reward due to that propriety of behavior, with no other merit, but that of having neglected it.

No. 21.] SATURDAY, MARCH 24, 1710-11.
-Locus est pluribus umbris.-HOR., 1 Ep., v, 28.
There's room enough, and each may bring his friend.

CREECH.

I AM Sometimes very much troubled, when 1 reflect upon the three great professions of divinity, law, and physic; how they are each of them overburdened with practitioners, and filled with multitudes of ingenious gentlemen that starve one another.

We may divide the clergy, into generals, field. officers, and subalterus. Among the first we may reckon bishops, deans, and archdeacons. Among the second are doctors of divinity, prebendaries, and all that wear scarfs. The rest are comprehended under the subalterns. As for the first class, our constitution preserves it from any redundancy of incumbents, notwithstanding competitors are numberless. Upon a strict calculation, it is found that there has been a great exceeding of late years in the second division, several brevets having been granted for the converting subalterns into scarf-officers; insomuch, that within my memory the price of lutestring is raised above two-pence in a yard. As for the subalterns, they are not to be numbered. Should our clergy once enter into the corrupt practice of the laity by the splitting of their freeholds, they would be able to carry mos of the elections in England.

The body of the law is no less incumbered win superfluous members, that are like Virgil's army, which he tells us was so crowded, many of them had not room to use their weapons. This pro digious society of men may be divided into the litigious and peaceable. Under the first are comprehended all those who are carried down in coach-fulls to Westminster-hall, every morning in term time. Martial's description of this species of lawyers is full of humor :

I take an impudent fellow to be a sort of outlaw in good breeding, and therefore what is said of him no nation or person can be concerned for. For this reason one may be free upon him. I have put myself to great pains in considering this prevailing quality, which we call impudence, and have taken notice that it exerts itself in a different manner, according to the different soils wherein such subjects of these dominions as are masters of it were born. Impudence in an Englishman is sullen and insolent; in a Scotchman it is untractable and rapacious; in an Irishman absurd and fawning: as the course of the world now runs, the impudent Englishman behaves like a surly landlord, the Scot like an ill-received guest, and the Irishman like a stranger, who knows he is not welcome. There is seldom anything entertaining either in the impudence of a South or North Briton; but that of an Irishman is always comic. A true and genuine impudence is ever the effect of ignorance" Men that hire out their words and anger;” that without the least sense of it. The best and most are more or less passionate according as they are successful starers now in this town are of that paid for it, and allow their client a quantity of nation; they have usually the advantage of the wrath proportionable to the fee which they receive stature mentioned in the above letter of my cor- from him. I must, however, observe to the reader, respondent, and generally take their stands in the that above three parts of those whom I reckon eye of women of fortune insomuch that I have among the litigious are such as are only quarrelknown one of them, three months after he came some in their hearts, and have no opportunity of from the plow, with a tolerable good air, lead showing their passion at the bar. Nevertheless, out a woman from a play, which one of our own as they do not know what strifes may arise, they breed, after four years at Oxford, and two at the appear at the hall every day, that they may show Temple, would have been afraid to look at. themselves in readiness to enter the lists, whenever there shall be occasion for them.

I cannot tell how to account for it, but these people have usually the preference to our own fools, in the opinion of the sillier part of womankind. Perhaps it is that an English coxcomb is seldom so obsequious as an Irish one; and when the design of pleasing is visible, an absurdity in the way toward it is easily forgiven.

But those who are downright impudent, and go on without reflection that they are such, are more to be tolerated, than a set of fellows among us who profess impudence with an air of humor, and think to carry off the most inexcusable of all faults in the world, with no other apology than saying in a gay tone, "I put an impudent face upon the No: no man shall be allowed the advantages of impudence, who is conscious that he is such. If he knows he is impudent, he may as well be otherwise; and it shall be expected that he blush, when he sees he makes another do it. For nothing can atone for the want of modesty without which beauty is ungraceful, and wit detestable.-R.

matter.'

:

Iras et verba locant.

The peaceable lawyers are, in the first place, many of the benchers of the several inns of court, who seem to be the dignitaries of the law, and are endowed with those qualifications of mind that accomplish a man rather for a ruler than a pleader. These men live peaceably in their habitations, eating once a-day, and dancing once a year, for the honor of their respective societies.

Another numberless branch of peaceable lawyers, are those young men who, being placed at the inns of court in order to study the laws of their country, frequent the playhouse more than Westminster-hall, and are seen in all public assemblies except in a court of justice. I shall say nothing of those silent and busy multitudes that are employed within doors in the drawing up of writings and conveyances; nor of those greater numbers that palliate their want of business with a pretense to such chamber practice.

If, in the third place, we look into the profes

* See Dugdale's Origines Juridiciales.

No. 22.] MONDAY, MARCH 26, 1711.
Quodeun que ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.
HOR., Ars. Poet., ver. 5.

Whatever contradicts my sense

I hate to see, and never can believe.-RoSCOMMON.

sion of physic, we snali find a most formidable |
body of men. The sight of them is enough to
make a man serious, for we may lay it down as a
maxim, that when a nation abounds in physicians
it grows thin of people. Sir William Temple is
very much puzzled to find out a reason why the
Northern Hive, as he calls it, does not send out
such prodigious swarms, and overrun the world
with Goths and Vandals, as it did formerly; but
had that excellent author observed that there were
no students in physie among the subjects of Thor
and Woden, and that this science very much
flourishes in the north at present, he might have
found a better solution for this difficulty than any
of those he has made use of. This body of men
in our own country may be described like the
British army in Caesar's time. Some of them slay
in chariots, and some on foot. If the infantry do
less execution than the charioteers, it is because
they cannot be carried so soon into all quarters
of the town, and dispatch so much business in so
short a time. Beside this body of regular troops,
there are stragglers, who, without being duly
listed and enrolled, do infinite mischief to those
who are so unlucky as to fall into their hands.
There are beside the above-mentioned, innu-
merable retainers to physic who, for want of other
patients, amuse themselves with the stifling of
cats in an air-pump, cutting up dogs alive, or
impaling of insects upon the point of a needle for
microscopical observations; beside those that
are employed in the gathering of weeds, and the
chase of butterflies: not to mention the cockle-
shell-merchants and spider-catchers.'
When I consider how each of these professions" MR. SPECTATOR,

are crowded with multitudes that seek their live-
lihood in them, and how many men of merit there
are in each of them, who may be rather said to be
of the science, than the profession; I very much
wonder at the humor of parents, who will not
rather choose to place their sons in a way of life
where an honest industry cannot but thrive, than
in stations where the greatest probity, learning,
and good sense may miscarry. How many men
are country curates, that might have made them-
selves aldermen of London, by a right improve-
ment of a smaller sum of money than what is
usually laid out upon a learned education? A
sober, frugal person, of slender parts and a slow
apprehension, might have thrived in trade, though
he starves upon physic; as a man would be well
enough pleased to buy silks of one whom he
would not venture to feel his pulse. Vagellius is
careful, studious, and obliging, but withal a little
thick-skulled; he has not a single client, but
might have had abundance of customers. The
misfortune is, that parents take a liking to a par-
ticular profession, and therefore desire their sons
may be of it: whereas, in so great an affair of life,
they should consider the genius and abilities of
their children more than their own inclinations.

It is the great advantage of a trading nation, that there are very few in it so dull and heavy, who may not be placed in stations of life, which may give them an opportuity of making their fortunes. A well-regulated commerce is not, like law, physic, or divinity, to be overstocked with hands; but on the contrary flourishes by multitudes, and gives employment to all its professors. Fleets of merchant-men are so many squadrons of floating shops, that vend our wares and manufactures in all the markets of the world, and find out chapmen under both the tropics.-C.

THE word Spectator being most usually under stood as one of the audience at public representations in our theaters, I seldom fail of many letters relating to plays and operas. But indeed there are such monstrous things done in both, that if one had not been an eye-witness of them, one could not believe that such matters had really been exhibited. There is very little which concerns human life, or is a picture of nature, that is regarded by the greater part of the company. The understanding is dismissed from our entertainments. Our mirth is the laughter of fools, and our admiration the wonder of idiots; else such improbable, monstrous, and incoherent dreams could not go off as they do, not only without the utmost scorn and contempt, but even with the loudest applause and approbation. But the letters of my correspondents will represent this affair in a more lively manner than any discourse of my own; I shall therefore give them to my reader with only this preparation, that they all come from players, and that the business of playing is now so managed, that you are not to be surprised when I say one or two of them are rational, others sensitive and vegetative actors, and others wholly inanimate. I shall not place these as I have named them, but as they have precedence in the opinion of their audiences.

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Your having been so humble as to take notice of the epistles of other animals, emboldens me, who am the wild boar that was killed by Mrs. Tofts, to represent to you, that I think I was hardly used in not having the part of the lion in Hydaspes given to me. It would have been but a natural step for me to have personated that noble creature, after having behaved myself to satisfaction in the part above-mentioned. That of a lion is too great a character for one that never trod the stage before but upon two legs. As to the little resistance which I made, I hope it may be excused, when it is considered that the dart was thrown at me by so fair a hand; I must confess I had but just put on my brutality; and Camilla's charms were such, that beholding her erect mien, hearing her charming voice, and astonished with her graceful motion, I could not keep up my assumed fierceness, but died like a man. "I am, Sir, your most humble admirer, "THOMAS PRONE."

66 'MR. SPECTATOR,

"This is to let you understand, that the play house is a representation of the world in nothing so much as in this particular, that no one rises in it according to his merit. I have acted several parts of household-stuff with great applause for many years: I am one of the men in the hangings in The Emperor of the Moon; I have twice per formed the third chair in an English opera: and have rehearsed the pump in The Fortune-Hunters. I am now grown old, and hope you will recommend me so effectually, as that I may say something before I go off the stage; in which you will do a great act of charity to

"Mr. SPECTATOR,

Your most humble servant,
"WILLIAM SCREENE."

"Understanding that Mr. Screene has written to you, and desired to be raised from dumb and still

parts; I desire, if you give him motion or speech, that you would advance me in my way, and let me keep on in what I humbly presume I am master, to wit, in representing human and still life together. I have several times acted one of the finest flower-pots in the same opera wherein Mr. Screene is a chair; therefore, upon his promotion, request that I may succeed him in the hangings, with my hand in the orange-trees.

"SIR,

"Your humble servant, "RALPH SIMPLE." "Drury-lane, March 24, 1710-11. "I saw your friend the Templar this evening in the pit, and thought he looked very little pleased with the representation of the mad scene of The Pilgrim. I wish, Sir, you would do us the favor to animadvert frequently upon the false taste the town is in, with relation to plays as well as operas. It certainly requires a degree of understanding to play justly but such is our condition, that we are to suspend our reason to perform our parts. As to scenes of madness, you know, Sir, there are noble instances of this kind in Shakspeare: but then it is the disturbance of a noble mind, from generous and humane resentments. It is like that grief which we have for the decease of our friends. It is no diminution, but a recommendation of human nature, that in such incidents, passion gets the better of reason; and all we can think to combat ourselves, is impotent against half what we feel. I will not mention that we had an idiot in the scene, and all the sense it is represented to have is that of lust. As for myself, who have long taken pains in personating the passions, I have to-night acted only an appetite. The part I played is Thirst, but it is represented as written rather by a drayman than a poet. I come in with a tub about me, that tub hung with quart pots, with a full gallon at my mouth. I am ashamed to tell you that I pleased very much, and this was introduced as a madness; but sure it was not human madness, for a mule or an ass may have been as dry as ever I was in my life.

ADVERTISEMENT.

For the good of the Public.

Within two doors of the masquerade lives an eminent Italian chirurgeon, arrived from the carnival of Venice, of great experience in private cures. Accommodations are provided, and persons admitted in their masking habits.

He has cured since his coming hither, in less than a fortnight, four scaramouches, a mountebank doctor, two Turkish bassas, three nuns, and a morris-dancer.

N. B. Any person may agree by the great, and be kept in repair by the year. The doctor draws teeth without pulling off your mask.-R.

No. 23.] TUESDAY, MARCH 27, 1711. Sævit atrox Volscens, nec teli conspicit usquam Auctorem, nec quo se ardens immittere possit. VIRG., En., ix, 420. Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and gazing round, Descry'd not him who gave the fatal wound; Nor knew to fix revenge.*DRYDEN. THERE is nothing that more betrays a base ungenerous spirit than the giving of secret stabs to a man's reputation; lampoons and satires, that are written with wit and spirit, are like poisoned darts, which not only inflict a wound, but make it incurable. For this reason I am very much troubled when I see the talents of humor and ridicule in the possession of an ill-natured man. There cannot be a greater gratification to a barbarous and inhuman wit, than to stir up sorrow in the heart of a private person, to raise uneasiness among near relations, and to expose whole families to derision, at the same time that he remains unseen and undiscovered. If beside the accomplishments of being witty and ill-natured, a man is vicious into the bargain, he is one of the most mischievous creatures that can enter into a civil society. His satire will then chiefly fall upon those who ought to be the most exempt from it. Virtue, merit, and everything that is praiseworthy, will be made the subject of ridicule and buffoonery. "I am Sir, your most obedient It is impossible to enumerate the evils which arise from these arrows that fly in the dark; and I From the Savoy, in the Strand. know no other excuse that is or can be made for

"MR. SPECTATOR,

"and humble servant."

"If you can read this with dry eyes, I give you this trouble to acquaint you, that I am the unfortunate King Latinus, and I believe I am the first prince that dated from this palace since John of Gaunt. Such is the uncertainty of all human greatness, that I, who lately never moved without a guard, am now pressed as a common soldier, and am to sail with the first fair wind against my brother Louis of France. It is a very hard thing to put off a character which one has appeared in with applause. This I experienced since the loss of my diadem; for, upon quarreling with another recruit, I spoke my indignation out of my part in recitativo;

-Most audacious slave,
Dar'st thou an angry monarch's fury brave?

The words were no sooner out of my mouth,
when a sergeant knocked me down, and asked me
if I had a mind to mutiny, in talking things
nobody understood. You see, Sir, my unhappy
circumstances; and if by your mediation you can
procure a subsidy for a prince (who never failed
to make all that beheld him merry at his appear-
auce), you will meri the thanks of

"Your friend, THE KING OF LATIUM."

them, than that the wounds they give are only imaginary, and produce nothing more than a secret shame or sorrow in the mind of the suffering person. It must indeed be confessed, that a lampoon or a satire do not carry in them robbery or murder; but at the same time how many are there that would not rather lose a considerable sum of money, or even life itself, than be set up as a mark of infamy and derision? and in this case a man should consider, that an injury is not to be measured by the notions of him that gives, but of him that receives it.

Those who can put the best countenance upon the outrages of this nature which are offered them, are not without their secret anguish. I have often observed a passage in Socrates's behavior at his death, in a light wherein none of the critics have considered it. That excellent man enter

23, is in a set of the Spectator, in 12mo, of the edition in *The following indorsement at the top of this paper, No. 1712, which contains some MS. notes by a Spanish merchant, who lived at the time of the original publication:

"The character of Dr. Swift."

This was Mr. Blundell's opinion; and whether it was wellgrounded, ill-grounded, or ungrounded, probably he was not singular in the thought. The intimacy between Swift, Steele, and Addison, was now over; and that they were about this time estranged, appears, from Swift's own testimony, dated March 16, 1710-11.

taining his friends, a little before he drank the word or action; nay, a gooa, a temperate, and a bowl of poison, with a discourse on the immor- just man shall be put out of countenance by the tality of the soul, at his entering upon it says that representation of those qualities that should do he does not believe any, the most comic genius, him honor. So pernicious a thing is wit, when can censure him for talking upon such a subject it is not tempered with virtue and humanity. at such a time. This passage, I think, evidently glances upon Aristophanes, who wrote a comedy on purpose to ridicule the discourses of that divine philosopher. It has been observed by many writers, that Socrates was so little moved at this piece of buffoonery, that he was several times present on its being acted upon the stage, and never expressed the least resentment of it. But with submission, I think the remark I have here made shows us, that this unworthy treatment made an impression upon his mind, though he had been too wise to discover it.

I have indeed heard of heedless, inconsiderate writers, that without any malice have sacrificed the reputation of their friends and acquaintances to a certain levity of temper, and a silly ambition of distinguishing themselves by a spirit of raillery and satire: as if it were not infinitely more honorable to be a good natured man than a wit. Where there is this little petulant humor in an author, he is often very mischievous without designing to be so. For which reason, I always lay it down as a rule, that an indiscreet man is more hurtful than an ill-natured one; for as the latter will only attack his enemies, and those he wishes ill to; the other injures indifferently both friends and foes. I cannot forbear on this occasion transcribing a fable out of Sir Robert l'Estrange, which accidentally lies before me. "A company of waggish boys were watching of frogs at the side of a pond, and still as any of them put up their heads, they would be pelting thei down again with stones. 'Children,' says one of the frogs, you never consider, that though this may be play to you, it is death to us.'”

When Julius Cæsar was lampooned by Catullus, he invited him to supper, and treated him with such a generous civility, that he made the poet his friend ever after. Cardinal Mazarine gave the same kind of treatment to the learned Quillet, who had reflected upon his eminence in a famous Latin poem. The cardinal sent for him, and, after some kind expostulations upon what he had written, assured him of his esteem, and dismissed him with a promise of the next good abbey that should fall, which he accordingly conferred upon him in a few months after. This had so good an effect upon the author, that he dedicated the sec-cated to serious thoughts, I shall indulge myself ond edition of his book to the cardinal, after having expunged the passages which had given him offense.

The

Sextus Quintus was not of so generous and forgiving a temper. Upon his being made pope, the statue of Pasquin was one night dressed in a very dirty shirt, with an excuse written under it, that he was forced to wear foul linen, because his laundress was made a princess. This was a reflection upon the pope's sister, who before the promotion of her brother, was in those, mean circumstances that Pasquin represented her. As this pasquinade made a great noise in Rome, the pope offered a considerable sum of money to any person that should discover the author of it. author, relying upon his holiness's generosity, as also some private overtures which he had received from him, made the discovery himself; upon which the pope gave him the reward he had promised, but at the same time to disable the satirist for the future, ordered his tongue to be cut out, and both his hands to be chopped off. Aretine is too trite an instance. Every one knows that all the kings of Europe were his tributaries. Nay, there is a letter of his extant, in which he makes his boast that he laid the Sophi of Persia

under contribution.

Though, in the various examples which I have here drawn together, these several great men behaved themselves very differently toward the wits of the age who had reproached them; they all of them plainly showed that they were very sensible of their reproaches, and consequently that they received them as very great injuries. For my own part, I would never trust a man that I thought was capable of giving these secret wounds; and cannot but think that he would hurt the person whose reputation he thus assaults, in his body or in his fortune, could he do it with the same security. There is, indeed, something very barbarous and inhuman in the ordinary scribblers of lampoons. An innocent young lady shall be exposed for an unhappy feature; a father of a family turned to ridicule for some domestic calamity; a wife made uneasy all her life for a misrepresented

*Peter Aretine, infamous for his writings, died in 1556.

As this week is in a manner set apart and dedi

in such speculations as may not be altogether unsuitable to the season; and in the meantime, as the settling in ourselves a charitable frame of mind is a work very proper for the time, I have in this paper endeavored to expose that particular breach of charity which has been generally overlooked by divines, because they are but few who can be guilty of it.-C.

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THERE are in this town a great number of insignificant people, who are by no means fit for the better sort of conversation, and yet have an impertinent ambition of appearing with those to whom they are not welcome. If you walk in the park, one of them will certainly join with you, though you are in company with ladies; if you drink a bottle, they will find your haunts. What

makes such fellows the more burdensome is, that
they neither offend nor please so far as to be taken
notice of for either. It is, I presume, for this
reason, that my correspondents are willing by my
means to be rid of thein. The two following let-
ters are written by persons who suffer by such im-
pertinence. A worthy old bachelor, who sets in
for his dose of claret every night, at such an hour,
is teased by a swarm of them; who, because they
are sure of room and good fire, have taken it in
their heads to keep a sort of club in his company,
though the sober gentleman himself is an utter
enemy to such meetings.
"MR. SPECTATOR,

"The aversion I for some years have had to clubs in general, gave me a perfect relish for your speculation on that subject; but I have since been extremely mortified by the malicious world's ranking me among the supporters of such impertinent assemblies. I beg leave to state my case

fairly; and that done, I shall expect redress from your judicious pen.

"I am, Sir, a bachelor of some standing, and a traveler; my business, to consult my own good humor, which I gratify without controlling other people's: I have a room and a whole bed to myself and I have a dog, a fiddle, and a gun: they please me, and injure no creature alive. My chief meal is a supper, which I always make at a tavern. I am constant to an hour, and not illhumored; for which reasons, though I invite nobody, I have no sooner supped, than I have a crowd about me of that sort of good company that know not whither else to go. It is true, every man pays his share; yet as they are intruders, I have an undoubted right to be the only speaker, or at least the loudest; which I main tain, and that to the great emolument of my audience. I sometimes tell them their own in pretty free language; and sometimes divert them with merry tales, according as I am in humor. I am one of those who live in taverns to a great age, by a sort of regular intemperance; I never go to bed drunk, but always flustered; I wear away very gently; am apt to be peevish, but never angry. Mr. Spectator, if you have kept various company, you know there is in every tavern in town some old humorist or other, who is master of the house as much as he that keeps it. The drawers are all in awe of him; and all the customers who frequent his company, yield him a sort of comical obedience. I do not know but I may be such a fellow as this myself. But I appeal to you, whether this is to be called a club, because so many impertinents will break in upon me, and come without appointment? Clinch of Barnet has a nightly meeting, and shows to every one that will come in and pay; but then he is the only actor. Why should people miscall things? If his is allowed to be a concert, why may not mine be a lecture? However, Sir, I submit it to you, and am, Sir, your most obedient servant, etc. "THOMAS KIMBOW."

"GOOD SIR,

"You and I were pressed against each other last winter in a crowd, in which uneasy posture we suffered together for almost half an hour. I thank you for all your civilities ever since, in being of my acquaintance wherever you meet me. But the other day you pulled your hat off to me in the Park, when I was walking with my mistress. She did not like your air, and said she wondered what strange fellows I was acquainted with. Dear Sir, consider it as much as my life is worth, if she should think we were intimate: therefore I earnestly entreat you for the future to take no manner of notice of,

"Sir, your obliged, humble servant,
"WILL FASHION."

A like impertinence is also very troublesome to the superior and more intelligent part of the fair sex. It is, it seems. a great inconvenience, that those of the meanest capacities will pretend to make visits, though indeed they are qualified rather to add to the furniture of the house (by fill ing an empty chair), than to the conversation they enter into when they visit. A friend of mine hopes for redress in this case, by the publication of her letter in my paper; which she thinks those she would be rid of will take to themselves. It seem to be written with an eye to one of those pert, giddy, unthinking girls; who, upon the recommendation only of an agreeable person and a fashionable air, take themselves to be upon a level with women of the greatest merit:

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"I take this way to acquaint you with what common rules and forms would never permit me to tell you otherwise; to wit, that you and I, though equals in quality and fortune, are by no means suitable companions. You are, it is true, very pretty, can dance, and make a very good figure in a public assembly; but, alas, Madam, you must go no farther; distance and silence are your best recommendations; therefore let me beg of you never to make me any more visits. You come in a literal sense to see one, for you have nothing to say. I do not say this, that I would by any mean lose your acquaintance; but I would keep it up with the strictest forms of good breeding. Let us pay visits, but never see one another. If you will be so good as to deny yourself always to me, I shall return the obligation by giving the same orders to my servants. When accident makes us meet at a third place, we may mutually lament the misfortune of never finding one another at home, go in the same party to a benefit play, and smile at each other, and put down glasses as we pass in our coaches. Thus we may enjoy as much of each other's friendship as we are capable of: for there are some people who are to be known only by sight, with which sort of friendship I hope you will always honor, Madam,

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To prevent all mistakes that may happen among gentlemen of the other end of the town, who come but once a week to St. James's coffee-house, either by miscalling the servants, or requiring such things from them as are not properly within their respective provinces; this is to give notice, that Kidney, keeper of the book-debts of the outlying customers, and observer of those who go off with out paying, having resigned that employment, is succeeded by John Sowton; to whose place of enterer of messages and first coffee-grinder, William Bird is promoted; and Samuel Burdock comes as shoe-cleaner in the room of the said Bird.—R.

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"I am one of that sickly tribe who are commonly known by the name of valetudinarians; and do confess to you, that I first contracted this ill habit of body, or rather of mind, by the study of physic. I no sooner began to peruse books of this nature, but I found my pulse was irregular; and scarce ever read the account of any disease that I did not fancy myself afflicted with. Dr. Sydenham's learned treatise of fever threw me into a lingering hectic, which hung upon me all the while I was reading that excellent piece. I then applied myself to the study of several authors who have written upon phthisical distempers, and by that means fell into a consumption; till at length, growing very fat, I was in shamed out of that imagination. Not long after this I found in myself all the symptoms of the

a manner

* Mr. Tickell, in his preface to Addison's Works, says, that "Addison never had a regular pulse," which Steele questions in his dedication of The Drummer to Mr. Congreve.

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