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Charles the Second's reigłı, the people time of the year; and set the heads of our having made very little variations in their servant-maids so agog for husbands that we dress since that time. The smartest of do not expect to have any business done as the country 'squires appear still in the it should be, whilst they are in the country. Monmouth-cock, and when they go a woo- I have an honest dairy-maid who crosses ing (whether they have any post in the their hands with a piece of silver every militia or not) they generally put on a red summer, and never fails being promised the coat. We were, indeed, very much sur- handsomest young fellow in the parish for prised, at the place we lay at last night, to her pains. Your friend the butler has been meet with a gentleman that had accoutred fool enough to be seduced by them; and himself in a night-cap-wig, a coat with long though he is sure to lose a knife, a fork, or pockets and slit sleeves, and a pair of shoes a spoon every time his fortune is told him, with high scollop tops; but we soon found generally shuts himself up in the pantry by his conversation that he was a person with an old gipsy for above half an hour who laughed at the ignorance and rusticity once in a twelve-month. Sweethearts are of the country people, and was resolved to the things they live upon, which they belive and die in the mode.
stow very plentifully upon all those that “Sir, if you think this account of my tra- apply themselves to them. You see now vels may be of any advantage to the public, and then some handsome young jades I will next year trouble you with such oc- among them: the sluts have ve often currences as I shall meet with in other parts white teeth and black eyes.' of England. For I am informed there are Sir Roger observing that I listened with greater curiosities in the northern circuit great attention to his account of a people than in the western; and that a fashion who were so entirely new to me, told me, makes its progress much slower into Cum- that, if I would, they should tell us our forberland than into Cornwall. I have heard tunes. As I was very well pleased with in particular, that the Steenkirk* arrived the knight's proposal,' we rid up and combut two months ago at Newcastle, and that municated our hands to them. A Casthere are several commodes in those parts sandra of the crew, after having examined which are worth taking a journey thither my lines very diligently, told me, that I to see.'
C. loved a pretty maid in a corner, that I was
a good woman's man, with some other par
ticulars which I do not think proper to reNo. 130.] Monday, July 30, 1711.
late. My friend Sir Roger alighted from his
horse, and exposing his palm to two or three -Semperque recentes
that stood by him, they crumpled it into all Convectare juvat prædas, et vivere rapto.
Virg. Æn. vii. 748.
shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle
that could be made in it; when one of them, A plundering race, still eager to invade, On spoil they live, and make of theft a trade.
who was older and more sun-burnt than
the rest, told him, that he had a widow in As I was yesterday riding out in the fields his line of life. Upon which the knight with my friend Sir Roger, we saw at a little cried, 'Go, go, you are an idle baggage;' distance from us a troop of gipsies. Upon and at the same time smiled upon me. The the first discovery of them, my friend gipsy finding he was not displeased in his was in some doubt whether he should not heart, told him after a farther inquiry into exert the justice of the peace upon such a his hand, that his true-love was constant, band of lawless vagrants; but not having his and that she should dream of him to-night. clerk with him, who is a necessary coun- My old friend cried Pish! and bid her go sellor on these occasions, and fearing that The gipsy told him that he was a his poultry might fare the worse for it, he bachelor, but would not be so long; and let the thought drop; but at the same time that he was dearer to somebody than he gave me a particular account of the mis- thought. The knight still repeated, "She Chiefs they do in the country, in stealing was an idle baggage,' and bid her go on. people's goods and spoiling their servants. *Ah, master,' says the gipsy, that roguish • If a stray piece of linen hangs upon a leer of yours makes a pretty woman's heart hedge,' says Sir Roger, they are sure to ache; you have not that simper about the have it; if a hog loses his way in the fields, mouth for nothing: ’ –Theuncouth gibberish it is ten to one but he becomes their prey: with which all this was uttered, like the our geese cannot live in peace for them; if darkness of an oracle, made us the more a man prosecutes them with severity, his attentive to it. To be short, the knight left hen-roost is sure to pay for it. They the money with her that he had crossed her generally straggle into these parts about this hand with, and got up again on his horse.
As we were riding away, Sir Roger told * The Steenkirk was a military cravat of black silk. This, as well as many other ornaments of dress, received
me, that he knew several sensible people, the name from the overjoyed Parisiang after the battle who believed these gipsies now and the of Steenkirk, fought Aug. 2. 1692; and the English, with foretold very strange things; and for halt their accustomed complacency towards every thing an hour together appeared more jocund French, adopted it, although its very name was in than ordinary. In the height of his goodsovereign's defeat.
i humour, meeting a common beggar upon
the road, who was no conjurer, as he wentral countries as a public minister, in which to relieve him he found his pocket was he formerly wandered as a gipsy. C. picked; that being a kind of palmistry at which this race of vermin are very dextrous.
No. 131.] Tuesday, July 31, 1711. I might here entertain my reader with historical remarks on this idle profligate - Ipsæ rursum concedite sylvæ. people, who infest all the countries of
Virg. Ec. a. 63 Europe, and live in the midst of govern
Once more, ye woods, adieu. ments in a kind of commonwealth by them- It is usual for a man who loves country selves. But instead of entering into observa- sports to preserve the game in his own tions of this nature, I shall fill the remain- grounds, and divert himself upon those that ing part of my paper with a story which is belong to his neighbour. My friend Sir still fresh in Holland, and was printed in Roger generally goes two or three miles one of our monthly accounts about twenty from his house, and gets into the frontiers years ago. “As the trekschuyt, or hack- of his estate, before he beats about in search ney-boat, which carries passengers from of a hair or partridge, on purpose to spare Leyden to Amsterdam, was putting off, a his own fields, where he is always sure of boy running along the side of the canal de- finding diversion, when the worst comes to sired to be taken in: which the master of the worst. By this means the breed about the boat refused, because the lad had not his house has time to increase and multiply, quite money enough to pay the usual fare. besides that the sport is the more agreeaAn eminent merchant being pleased with ble where the game is the harder to come the looks of the boy, and secretly touched at, and where it does not lie so thick as to with compassion towards him, paid the produce any perplexity or confusion in the money for him, and ordered him to be taken pursuit. for these reasons the country on board.
Upon talking with him after- gentleman, like the fox, seldom preys near wards, he found that he could speak readily his own home. in three or four languages, and learned upon In the same manner I have made a farther examination that he had been stolen month's excursion out of the town, which away when he was a child by a gipsy, and is the great field of game for sportsmen of had rambled ever since with a gang of those my species, to try my fortune in the counstrollers up and down several parts of Eu-try, where I have started several subjects, rope. It happened that the merchant, and hunted them down, with some pleawhose heart seems to have inclined towards sure to myself, and I hope to others. I am the boy by a secret kind of instinct, had here forced to use a great deal of diligence himself lost a child some years before. before I can spring any thing to my mind, The parents after a long search for him, whereas in town, whilst I am following one gave him up fordrowned in one of the ca- character, it is ten to one but I am crossed nals with which that country abounds; in my way by another, and put up such a and the mother was so afflicted at the loss variety of odd creatures in both sexes, of a fine boy, who was her only son, that that they foil the scent of one another, and she died for grief of it. Upon laying to- puzzle the chase. My greatest difficulty gether all particulars, and examining the in the country is to find sport, and in town several moles and marks by which the mo- to choose it. In the mean time, as I have ther used to describe the child when he given a whole month's rest to the cities of was first missing, the boy proved to be the London and Westminster, promise myself son of the merchant, whose heart had so abundance of new game upon my return unaccountably melted at the sight of him. thither. The lad was very well pleased to find a fa- It is indeed high time for me to leave the ther who was so rich, and likely to leave country, since I find the whole neighbourhim a good estate: the father on the other hood begin to grow very inquisitive after hand was not a little delighted to see a son my name and character: my love of solireturn to him, whom he had given up forlost, tude, taciturnity, and particular way of with such a strength of constitution, sharp- life, having raised a great curiosity in all ness of understanding, and skill in languages.' these parts. Here the printed story leaves off; but if I The notions which have been framed of may give credit to reports, our linguist me are various: some look upon me as very having received such extraordinary rudi- proud, some as very modest, and some as ments towards a good education, was after- very melancholy. Will Wimble, as my wards trained up in every thing that friend the butler tells me, observing me becomes a gentleman; wearing off by little very much alone, and extremely silent and little all the vicious habits and prac- when I am in company, is afraid I have tices that he had been used to in the course killed a man. The country people seem of his peregrinations. Nay, it is said, that to suspect me for a conjurer; and some of he has since been employed in foreign them hearing of the visit which I made to courts upon national business, with great Moll White, will needs have it that Sir reputation to himself and honour to those Roger has brought down a cunning man who sent him, and that he has visited seve- I with him to cure the old woman, and free
the country from her charms. So that the Moll White, and Will Wimble. Prythec character which I go under in part of the do not send us any more stories of a cock neighbourhood, is what they here call a and a bull, nor frighten the town with White Witch.
spirits and witches. Thy speculations beA justice of peace, who lives about five gin to smell confoundedly of woods and miles off, and is not of Sir Roger's party, meadows. If thou dost not come up quickly, has it seems said twice or thrice at his ta- / we shall conclude that thou art in love with ble, that he wishes Sir Roger does not har- one of Sir Roger's dairy-maids. Service to bour a Jesuit in his house, and that he the knight. Sir Andrew is grown the cock thinks the gentlemen of the country would of the club since he left us, and if he does do very well to make me give some account not return quickly will make every mother's of myself.
son of us commonwealth's men. Dear Spec, On the other side, some of Sir Roger's thine eternally, friends are afraid the old knight is imposed C. WILL HONEYCOMB.' upon by a designing fellow; and as they have heard that he converses very promiscuously when he is in town, do not know but he has brought down with him some No. 132.] Wednesday, August 1, 1711. discarded Whig, that is sullen, and says
Qui, aut tempus quid postulet non videt, aut plura nothing because he is out of place.
loquitur, aut se ostentat, aut eorum quibuscum est ra. Such is the variety of opinions which are tionem non habet, is ineptus esse dicitur.—Tull. here entertained of me, so that I pass
That man may be called impertinent, who considers among some for a disaffected person, and not the circumstances of time, or engrosses the conversaamong others for a popish priest; among tion, or makes himself the subject of his discourse, or some for a wizard, and among others for a
pays no regard to the company he is in. murderer; and all this for no other reason Having notified to my good friend Sir that I can imagine, but because I do not Roger that I should set out for London the hoot, and halloo, and make a noise. It is next day, his horses were ready at the aptrue my friend' Sir Roger tells them,– pointed hour in the evening; and, attended . That it is my way,' and that I am only a by one of his grooms, I arrived at the counphilosopher; but this will not satisfy them. try-town at twilight, in order to be ready They think there is more in me than he for the stage-coach the day following. As discovers, and that I do not hold my tongue soon as we arrived at the inn, the servant, for nothing.
who waited upon me, inquired of the chamFor these and other reasons I shall set berlain in my hearing what company he had out for London to-morrow, having found for the coach? The fellow answered, “Mrs. by experience that the country is not a Betty Arable, the great fortune, and the place for a person of my temper, who does widow her mother; a recruiting officer, not love jollity, and what they call good (who took a place because they were to neighbourhood. A man that is out of hu- go, young Squire Quickset, her cousin mour when an unexpected guest breaks in (that her mother wished her to be married upon him, and does not care for sacrificing to;) Ephraim the Quaker, her guardian; an afternoon to every chance-comer, that and a gentleman that had studied himself will be the master of his own time, and the dumb, from Sir Roger de Coverley's.' I pursuer of his own inclinations, makes but observed by what he said of myself, that a very unsociable figure in this kind of life. according to his office he dealt much in inI shall therefore retire into the town, if I telligence; and doubted not but there was may make use of that phrase, and get into some foundation for his reports of the rest the crowd again as fast as I can, in order to of the company, as well as for the whimbe alone. I can there raise what specula- sical account he gave of me. The next tions I please upon others without being morning at day-break we were all called; observed myself, and at the same time enjoy and I, who know my own natural shyness, all the advantages of company, with all the and endeavour to be as little liable to be privileges of solitude. In the meanwhile, disputed with as possible, dressed immeto finish the month, and conclude these my diately, that I might make no one wait. rural speculations, I shall here insert a let- The first preparation for our setting out ter from my friend Will Honeycomb, who was, that the captain's half-pike was placed has not lived a month for these forty years near the coachman, and a drum behind the out of the smoke of London, and rallies me coach. In the mean time the drummer, after his way upon my country life. the captain's equipage, was very loud,
'that none of the captain's things should be DEAR SPEC,—I suppose this letter will placed so as to be spoiled;' upon which his find thee picking of daisies, or smelling to cloak-bag was fixed in the seat of the coach: a lock of hay, or passing away thy time in and the captain himself, according to a fresome innocent country diversion of the like' quent, though invidious behaviour of milinature. I have however orders from the club tary men, ordered his man to look sharp, to summon thee up to town, being all of us that none but one of the ladies should have cursedly afraid thou wilt not be able to relish the place he had taken fronting the coachour company, after thy conversations with box.
We were in some little time fixed in our | pertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me, seats, an. sat with that dislike which peo-Come, thou art, I see, a smoky old fellow, ple not too good-natured usually conceive and I will be very orderly the ensuing pait of each other at first sight. The coach of my journey. I was going to give myself jumbled us insensibly into some sort of fa- airs, but, ladies, I beg pardon.' miliarity: and we had not moved above two The captain was so little out of humour, iniles, when the widow asked the captain and our company was so far from being what success he had in his recruiting? The soured by this little ruffle, that Ephraim officer, with a frankness he believed very and he took a particular delight in being graceful, told her, that indeed he had but agreeable to each other for the future; and very little luck, and had suffered much by assumed their different provinces in the desertion, therefore should be glad to end conduct of the company. Our reckonings, his warfare in the service of her or her fair apartments, and accommodation, fell under daughter. In a word,' continued he, “I am Ephraim; and the Captain looked to all a soldier, and to be plain is my character: disputes upon the road, as the good beha, you see me, madam, young, sound, and im- viour of our coachman, and the right we pudent; take me yourself, widow, or give had of taking place, as going to London, of me to her; I will be wholly at your disposal. all vehicles coming from thence. The ocI am a soldier of fortune, ha!'--This was currences we met with were ordinary, and followed by a vain laugh of his own, and a very little happened which could entertain decp silence of all the rest of the company. I by the relation of them: but when I conhad nothing left for it but to fall fast asleep, sidered the company we were in, I took it which I did with all speed. - Come,' said for no small good-fortune, that the whole he, 'resolve upon it, we will make a wed journey was not spent in impertinences, ding at the next town: we will wake this which to one part of us might be an enterpleasant companion who is fallen asleep, to tainment, to the other a sufferingWhat, be the brideman; and,' giving the quaker a therefore, Ephraim said, when we were clap on the knee, he concluded, “this sly almost arrived at London, had to me an air saint, who, I will warrant, understands not only of good understanding, but good what is what as well as you or I, widow, breeding. Upon the young lady's expressshall give the bride as father. The quaker, ing her satisfaction in the journey, and dewho happened to be a man of smartness, claring how delightful it had been to her, answered, *Friend, I take it in good part Ephraim declared himself as follows:that thou hast given me the authority of a There is no ordinary part of human life, father over this comely and virtuous child; which expresseth so much a good mind, and I must assure thee, that if I have the and a right inward man, as his behaviour giving her, I shall not bestow her on thee. upon meeting with strangers, especially Thy mirth, friend, savoureth of folly: thou such as may seem the most unsuitable comart a person of a light mind, thy drum is a panions to him: such a man, when he falleth type of thee, it soundeth because it is empty. in the way with persons of simplicity and Verily, it is not from thy fulness, but thy innocence, however knowing he may be in emptiness, that thou hast spoken this day. the ways of men, will not vaunt himself Friend, friend, we have hired this coach in thereof, but will the rather hide his supe. partnership with thee, to carry us to the riority to them, that he may not be painful great city; we cannot go any other way. unto them. My good friend,' continued he, This worthy mother must hear thee, if thou turning to the officer, “thee and I are to wilt needs utter thy follies; we cannot help part by and by, and peradventure we may it, friend, I say: if thou wilt, we must hear never meet again: but be advised by a plain thee; but if thou wert a man of understand- man; modes and apparel are but trifles to ing, thou wouldst not take advantage of thy the real man, therefore do not think such a courageous countenance to abash us chil- man as thyself terrible for thy garb, nor dren of peace. Thou art, thou sayest, a sol- such a one as me contemptible for mine, dier; give quarter to us, who cannot resist When two such as thee and I meet, with thee, Why didst thou fleer at our friend, affections as we ought to have towards each who feigned himself asleep? He said no- other, thou shouldst rejoice to see my thing; but how dost thou know what he peaceable demeanor, and I should be glad containeth? If thou speakest improper to see thy strength and ability to protect things in the hearing of this virtuous young me in it.'
T. virgin, consider it as an outrage against a distressed person that cannot get from thee: to speak indiscreetly what we are obliged No. 133.] Thursday, August 2, 1711. to hear, by being hasped up with thee in this public vehicle, is in some degree as- Quis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus saulting on the high road.'
Tam chari capitis ? Here Ephraim paused, and the Captain, Buch was his worth, our loss is such, with a happy and uncommon impudence, We cannot love too well or grieve too much. (which can be convicted and support itself at the same time,) cries, Faith, friend, I THERE is a sort of delight, which is al. thank thee; I should have been a little im-) ternately mixed with terror and sorrow, in
Hor. Lib. 1. Od. xxiv. 1.
the contemplation of death. The soul has he expressed himself in this manner. “This its curiosity more than ordinarily awaken- is not the end of my life, my fellow-soldiers; ed, when it turns its thoughts upon the con- it is now your Epaminondas is born, who duct of such who have behaved themselves dies in so much glory.' with an equal, a resigned, a cheerful, a ge- It were an endless labour to collect the nerous or heroic temper in that extremity. accounts, with which all ages have filled We are affected with these respective man- the world, of noble and heroic minds that ners of behaviour, as we secretly believe have resigned this being, as if the terminathe part of the dying person imitable by tion of life were but an ordinary occurrence ourselves, or such as we imagine ourselves of it. more particularly capable of. Men of ex- This common-place way of thinking I alted minds march before us like princes, fell into from an awkward endeavour to and are, to the ordinary race of mankind, throw off a real and fresh affliction, by rather subjects for their admiration than turning over books in a melancholy mood; example. However, there are no ideas but it is not easy to remove griefs which strike more forcibly upon our imaginations, touch the heart, by applying remedies than those which are raised from reflections which only entertain the imagination. As upon the exits of great and excellent men. therefore this paper is to consist of any Innocent men who have suffered as crimi- thing which concerns human life, I cannot nals, though they were benefactors to hu- help letting the present subject regard man society, seem to be persons of the what has been the last object of my eyes, highest distinction, among the vastly greater though an entertainment of sorrow. number of human race, the dead. When I went this evening to visit a friend, with the iniquity of the times brought Socrates a design to rally him, upon a story I had to his execution, how great and wonderful heard of his intending to steal a marriage is it to behold him, unsupported by any without the privity of us his intimate friends thing but the testimony of his own con- and acquaintance. I came into his apartscience, and conjectures of hereafter, re- ment with that intimacy which I have done ceive the poison with an air of mirth and for very many years, and walked directly good humour, and as if going on an agreea- into his bed-chamber, where I found my ble journey, bespeak some deity to make it friend in the agonies of death. -What could fortunate.'
I do? The innocent mirth in my thoughts When Phocion's good actions had met struck upon me like the most flagitious with the like reward from his country, and wickedness: I in vain called upon him; he he was led to death with many others of was senseless, and too far spent to have the his friends, they bewailing their fate, he least knowledge of my sorrow, or any pain walking composedly towards the place of in himself. Give me leave then to tranexecution, how gracefully does he support scribe my soliloquy, as I stood by his his illustrious character to the very last in- mother, dumb with the weight of grief for stant! One of the rabble spitting at him as a son who was her honour and her comfort, he passed, with his usual authority he called and never till that hour since his birth had to know if no one was ready to teach this been an occasion of a moment's sorrow to fellow how to behave himself. When a her. poor-spirited creature that died at the same • How surprising is this change! From time for his crimes, bemoaned himself un- the possession of vigorous life and strength, manfully, he rebuked him with this ques to be reduced in a few hours to this fatal tion, .Is it no consolation to such a man as extremity! Those lips which look so pale thou art to die with Phocion? At the in- and livid, within these few days gave destant when he was to die, they asked what light to all who heard their utterance: it commands he had for his son? he answered, was the business, the purpose of his being, “To forget this injury of the Athenians.' next to obeying Him to whom he is gone, Niocles, his friend, under the same sen- to please and instruct, and that for no other tence, desired he might drink the potion end but to please and instruct. Kindness before him: Phocion said, “Because, he was the motive of his actions, and with all never had denied him any thing, he would the capacity requisite for making a figure not even this, the most difficult request he in a contentious world, moderation, goodhad ever made.'
nature, affability, temperance, and chastity, These instances were very noble and were the arts of his excellent life.—There, great, and the reflections of those sublime as he lies in helpless agony, no wise man spirits had made death to them what it is who knew him so well as I, but would rereally intended to be by the Author of na- sign all the world can bestow to be so near ture, a relief from a various being, ever the end of such a life. Why does my heart subject to sorrows and difficulties.
so little obey my reason as to lament thee, Epaminondas, the Theban general, hav- thou excellent man?-Heaven receive him ing received in fight a mortal stab with a or restore him!—Thy beloved mother, thy sword, which was left in his body, lay in obliged friends, thy helpless servants, stand that posture till he had intelligence that his around thee without distinction. How much troops had obtained the victory, and then wouldst thou, hadst thou thy senses, say to permitted it to be drawn out, at which instant each of us: