and theatrical, for a man to be always in that character which distinguishes him from others; besides that the slackening and unbending our minds on some occasions, makes them exert themselves with greater vigour and alacrity, when they return to their proper and natural state. As this innocent way of passing a leisure hour is not only consistent with a great character, but very graceful in it; so there are two sorts of people to whom I would most earnestly recommend it. The first are those who are uneasy out of want of thought; the second are those who are so out of a turbulence of spirit. The first are the impertinent, and the second the dangerous part of mankind. It grieves me to the very heart, when I see several young gentlemen, descended of honest parents, run up and down, hurrying from one end of the town to the other, calling in at every place of resort, without being able to fix a quarter of an hour in any, and in a particular haste without knowing for what. It would, methinks, be some consolation, if I could persuade these precipitate young gentlemen to compose this restlessness of mind, and apply themselves to any amusement, how trivial soever, that might give them employment, and keep them out of harm's way. They cannot imagine how great a relief it would be to them, if they could grow sedate enough to play for two or three hours at a game of push-pin. But these busy, idle animals are only their own tormentors. The turbulent and dangerous are for embroiling councils, stirring up seditions, and subverting constitutions, out of a mere restlessness of temper and an insensibility of all the pleasures of life that are calm and innocent. It is impossible for a man to be so much employed in any scene of action, as to have great and good affairs enough to fill up his whole time; there will still be chasms and empty spaces, in which a working mind will employ itself to its own prejudice, or that of others, unless it can be at ease in the exercise of such actions as are in themselves indifferent. How often have I wished, for the good of the nation, that several famous politicians could take any pleasure in feeding ducks! I look upon an able statesman out of business, like a huge whale, that will endeavour to overturn the ship, unless he has an empty cask to play with. But to return to my good friend and correspondent: I am afraid we shall both be laughed at, when I confess, that we have often gone out into the field to look upon a bird's nest; and have more than once taken an evening's walk together on purpose to see the sun set. I shall conclude with my answer to his foregoing letter: DEAR SIR,-I thank you for your obliging letter, and your kindness to the distressed, who will doubtless express their gratitude to you themselves the next spring. As for Dick, the tyrant, I must desire you will put a stop to his proceedings; and, at the same time, take care that his little brother be no loser by his mercy to the tom-tit. For my own part, I am excluded all conversation with animals that delight only in a country life, and am therefore forced to entertain myself as well as I can with my little dog and cat. They both of them sit by my fire every night, expecting my coming home with impatience; and, at my entrance, never fail of running up to me, and bidding me welcome, each of them in his proper language. As they have been bred up together from their infancy, and seen no other company, they have learned each other's manners, so that the dog often gives himself the airs of a cat, and the cat, in several of her motions and gestures, affects the behaviour of the little dog. When they are at play, I often make one with them: and sometimes please myself with considering how much reason and instinct are capable of delighting each other. Thus, you see, I have communicated to you, the material occurrences in my family, with the same freedom that you use to me, as I am, with the same sincerity and affection, your most faithful humble servant, ISAAC BICKERSTAFF." WHEREAS, the gentleman that behaved himself in a very disobedient and obstinate manner at his late trial in Sheer-lane, on the twentieth instant, and was carried off dead upon taking away of his snuff-box, remains still unburied; the company of upholders, not knowing otherwise how they should be paid, have taken his goods in execution, to defray the charge of his funeral. His said effects are to be exposed to sale by auction, at their office in the Hay-market, on the fourth of January next, and are as follows. A very rich tweezer-case, containing twelve instruments for the use of each hour in the day. Four pounds of scented snuff, with three gilt snuff-boxes; one of them with an invisible hinge, and a looking glass in the lid. Two more of ivory, with the portraitures on their lids of two ladies of the town; the originals to be seen every night in the side-boxes of the playhouse. A sword, with a steel diamond hilt, never drawn but once at May-fair. Six clean packs of cards, a quart of orangeflower-water, a pair of French scissars, a toothpick-case, and an eye-brow brush. A large glass case, containing the linen and clothes of the deceased; among which are, two embroidered suits, a pocket perspective, a dozen pair of red-heeled shoes, three pair of red silk stockings, and an amber-headed cane. The strong box of the deceased, wherein were found, five billet-doux, a Bath shilling, a crooked sixpence, a silk garter, a lock of hair, and three broken fans. A press for books; containing, on the upper shelf, Three bottles of diet-drink. and useful inventions, he may be heard before you pass sentence upon the petticoats aforesaid. 'And your petitioner, & c." I have likewise received a female petition, signed by several thousands, praying that I would not any longer defer giving judgment in the case of the petticoat, many of them having put off the making new clothes, until such time And an almanack for the year seventeen hun- as they know what verdict will pass upon it. I dred. A pair of snuffers. A French grammar. A mourning hatband; and half a bottle of usquebaugh. There will be added to these goods, to make a complete auction, a collection of gold snuff boxes and clouded canes, which are to continue in fashion for three months after the sale. The whole are to be set up and prized by Charles Bubbleboy, who is to open the auction with a speech. I find I am so very unhappy, that, while I am busy in correcting the folly and vice of one sex, several exorbitances break out in the other. I have not thoroughly examined their new fashioned petticoats, but shall set aside one day in the next week for that purpose. The following petition on this subject was presented to me this morning: "The humble petition of William Jingle, Coach-maker and Chair-maker, of the liberty of Westminster; To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire, Censor of Great Britain; 'Showeth,-That upon the late invention of Mrs. Catherine Cross-stich, mantua-maker, the petticoats of ladies were too wide for entering into any coach or chair which was in use before the said invention. That for the service of the said ladies, your petitioner has built a round chair, in the form of a lantern, six yards and a half in circumference, with a stool in the centre of it; the said vehicle being so contrived, as to receive the passenger by opening in two in the middle, and closing mathematically when she is seated. That your petitioner has also invented a coach for the reception of one lady only, who is to be let in at the top. That the said coach has been tried by a lady's woman in one of these full petticoats, who was let down from a balcony, and drawn up again by pullies, to the great satisfaction of her lady and all who beheld her. Your petitioner, therefore, most humbly prays, that, for the encouragement of ingenuity do therefore, hereby certify to all whom it may I concern, that I do design to set apart Tuesday next for the final determination of that matter, having already ordered a jury of matrons to be impannelled, for the clearing up of any difficult points that may arise in the trial. Being informed that several dead men, in and about this city, do keep out of the way and abscond, for fear of being buried; and, being willing to respite their interment, in consideration of their families, and in hopes of their amendment, I shall allow them certain privileged places, where they may appear to one another, without causing any let or molestation to the living, or receiving any, in their own persons, from the company of upholders. Between the hours of seven and nine in the morning, they may appear in safety at St. James's coffee-house, or at White's, if they do not keep their beds, which is more proper for men in their condition. From nine to eleven, I allow them to walk from Story's to Rosamond's pond in the Park, or in any other public walks which are not frequented by the living at that time. Between eleven and three, they are to vanish and keep out of sight until three in the afternoon, at which time they may go to the Exchange until five; and then, if they please, divert themselves at the Hay-market, or Drurylane, until the play begins. It is further granted in favour of these persons, that they may be received at any table where there are more present than seven in number: provided that they do not take upon them to talk, judge, commend, or find fault with any speech, action, or behaviour of the living. In which case, it shall be lawful to seize their persons at any place or hour whatsoever, and to convey their bodies to the next undertaker's; any thing in this adver. tisement to the contrary notwithstanding. would now be impertinent; and therefore contented myself to sit by him, and condole with him in silence. For I shall here use the method of an ancient author, who, in one of his epistles, relating the virtues and death of Macrinus's wife, expresses himself thus: 'I shall suspend my advice to this best of friends, until he is made capable of receiving it by those three great remedics, the necessity of submission, length of time, and satiety of grief.' alighting out of it, whom I perceived to be the leave of her husband and children, in a manner eldest son of my bosom friend that I gave some proper for so solemn a parting, and, with a account of in my paper of the seventeenth of the gracefulness peculiar to a woman of her chalast month. I felt a sensible pleasure rising in racter. My heart was torn in pieces, to see the me at the sight of him, my acquaintance having husband on one side, suppressing and keeping begun with his father when he was just such a down the swellings of his grief, for fear of disstripling, and about that very age. When he turbing her in her last moments; and the wife, came up to me, he took me by the hand, and even at that time, concealing the pains she enburst out in tears. I was extremely moved, and dured, for fear of increasing his affliction. She immediately said, 'Child, how does your father kept her eyes upon him for some moments after do?' He began to reply, My mother but she grew speechless, and soon after closed them could not go on for weeping. I went down for ever. In the moment of her departure, my with him into the coach, and gathered out of friend, who had thus far commanded himself, him, that his mother was then dying, and that, gave a deep groan, and fell into a swoon by her while the holy man was doing the last offices bed side. The distraction of the children, who to her, he had taken that time to come and call thought they saw both their parents expiring tome to his father, who, he said, would certainly gether, and now lying dead before them, would break his heart, if I did not go and comfort him.' have melted the hardest heart; but they soon The child's discretion in coming to me of his perceived their father recover, whom I helped own head, and the tenderness he showed for his to remove into another room, with a resolution parents, would have quite overpowered me, had to accompany him until the first pangs of his I not resolved to fortify myself for the seasona-affliction were abated. I knew consolation ble performances of those duties which I owed to my friend. As we were going, I could not but reflect upon the character of that excellent woman, and the greatness of his grief for the loss of one who has ever been the support of him under all other afflictions. How, thought I, will he be able to bear the horror of her death, that could not, when I was lately with him, speak of a sickness, which was then past, without sorrow! We were now got pretty far into Westminster, and arrived at my friend's house. At the door of it I met Favonius, not without a secret satisfaction to find he had been there. I had formerly conversed with him at this house; and as he abounds with that sort of virtue and knowledge which makes religion beautiful, and never leads the conversation into the violence and rage of party-disputes, I listened to him with great pleasure. Our discourse chanced to be upon the subject of death, which he treated with such a strength of reason, and greatness of soul, that, instead of being terrible, it appeared to a mind rightly cultivated, altogether to be contemned, or rather to be desired. As I met him at the door, I saw in his face a certain glowing of grief and humanity, heightened with an air of fortitude and resolution, which, as I afterwards found, had such an irresistible force, as to suspend the pains of the dying, and the lamentation of the nearest friends who at tended her. I went up directly to the room where she lay, and was met at the entrance by my friend, who, notwithstanding his thoughts had been composed a little before, at the sight of me turned away his face and wept. The little family of children renewed the expressions of their sorrow according to their several ages and degrees of understanding. The eldest daughter was in tears, busied in attendance upon her mother; others were kneeling about the bed side; and what troubled me most was, to see a little boy, who was too young to know the reason, weeping only because his sister did. The only one in the room who seemed resigned and comforted was the dying person. At my approach to the bed side, she told me, with a low broken voice, This is kindly done-Take care of your friend --do not go from him! She had before taken In the mean time, I cannot but consider, with much commiseration, the melancholy state of one who has had such a part of himself torn from him, and which he misses in every circumstance of life. His condition is like that of one who has lately lost his right arm, and is every moment offering to help himself with it. He does not appear to himself the same person in his house, at his table, in company, or in retirement; and loses the relish of all the pleasures and diversions that were before entertaining to him by her participation of them. The most agreeable objects recall the sorrow for her with whom he used to enjoy them. This additional satisfaction, from the taste of pleasures in the society of one we love, is admirably described by Milton, who represents Eve, though in Paradise itself, no further pleased with the beautiful objects around her, than as she sees them in company with Adam, in that passage so inexpressibly charming:* 'With thee conversing, I forget all time; *Paradise Lost, book iv. ver. 630.. The variety of images in this passage is infi- | and, at the same time, commanded the attention nitely pleasing, and the recapitulation of each of the audience with the majesty of his appearparticular image, with a little varying of the ex-ance. But, notwithstanding the dignity and elepression, makes one of the finest turns of words gance of this entertainment, I find for some that I have ever seen; which I rather mention, because Mr. Dryden has said in his preface to Juvenal, that he could meet with no turn of words in Milton. It may be further observed, that though the sweetness of these verses has something in it of a pastoral, yet it excels the ordinary kind, as much as the scene of it is above an ordinary field or meadow. I might here, since I am accidentally led into this subject, show several passages in Milton that have as excellent turns of this nature as any of our English poets whatsoever; but shall only mention that which follows, in which he describes the fallen angels engaged in the intricate disputes of predestination, free-will, and fore-knowledge; and, to humour the perplexity, makes a kind of labyrinth in the very words that describe it. Others apart sat on a hill retired, In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high I WENT on Friday last to the opera, and was surprised to find a thin house at so noble an entertainment, until I heard that the tumbler was not to make his appearance that night. For my own part, I was fully satisfied with the sight of an actor, who, by the grace and propriety of his action and gesture, does honour to a human figure, as much as the other vilifies and degrades it. Every one will easily imagine I mean signior Nicolini, who sets off the charac. ter he bears in an opera by his action, as much as he does the words of it by his voice. Every limb, and every finger, contributes to the part he acts, insomuch that a deaf man might go along with him in the sense of it. There is scarce a beautiful posture in an old statue which he does not plant himself in, as the different circumstances of the story give occasion for it. He performs the most ordinary action in a manner suitable to the greatness of his character, and shows the prince even in the giving of a letter, or despatching of a message. Our best actors are somewhat at a loss to support themselves with proper gesture, as they move from any considerable distance to the front of the stage; but I have seen the person of whom I am now speaking, enter alone at the remotest part of it, and advance from it, with such great ness of air and mien, as seemed to fill the stage, Paradise Lost, book ii. ver. 55. nights past, that Punchinello has robbed this gentleman of the greater part of his female spectators. The truth of it is, I find it so very hard a task to keep that sex under any manner of government, that I have often resolved to give them over entirely, and leave them to their own inventions. I was in hopes that I had brought them to some order, and was employing my thoughts on the reformation of their petticoats, when, on a sudden, I received information from all parts, that they run gadding after a puppet-show. I know very well, that what I here say will be thought by some malicious persons to flow from envy to Mr. Powell; for which reason I shall set the late dispute between us in a true light. Mr. Powell and I had some difference about four months ago, which we managed by way of letter, as learned men ought to do; and I was very well contented to bear such sarcasms as he was pleased to throw upon me, and answered them with the same freedom. In the midst of this our misunderstanding and correspondence, I happened to give the world an account of the order of Esquires; upon which Mr. Powell was so disingenuous, as to make one of his puppets, I wish I knew which of them it was, declare, by way of prologue, that one Isaac Bickerstaff, a pretended esquire, had written a scurrilous piece, to the dishonour of that rank of men;' and then, with more art than honesty, concluded, 'that all the esquires in the pit were abused by his antagonist as much as he was.' This public accusation made all the esquires of that county, and several of other parts, my professed enemies. I do not in the least question but that he will proceed in his hostilities; and I am informed, that part of his design in coming to town, was to carry the war into my own quarters. I do therefore solemnly declare, notwithstanding that I am a great lover of art and ingenuity, that if I hear he opens any of his people's mouths against me, I shall not fail to write a critique upon his whole performance; for I must confess, that I have naturally so strong a desire of praise, that I cannot bear reproach, though from a piece of timber. As for Punch, who takes all opportunities of bespattering me, I know very well his original, and have been assured by the joiner who put him together, that he was in long dispute with himself, whether he should turn him into several pegs and utensils, or make him the man he is.' The same person confessed to me, that he had once actually laid aside his head for a nut-cracker.' As for his scolding wife, however she may value herself at present, it is very well known, that she is but a piece of crab-tree. This artificer further whispered in my ear, that all his courtiers and nobles were taken out of a quickset hedge not far from Islington; and that doctor Faustus himself, who is now so great a conjurer, is supposed to have learned his whole art from an old woman in that neighbourhood, whom he long served in the figure of a broom-staff.' But perhaps it may look trivial to insist so much upon men's persons; I shall, therefore, turn my thoughts rather to examine their behaviour, and consider, whether the several parts are written up to that character which Mr. Powell piques himself upon, of an able and judicious dramatist. I have for this purpose provided myself with the works of above twenty French critics, and shall examine, by the rules which they have laid down upon the art of the stage, whether the unity of time, place, and action, be rightly observed in any one of this celebrated author's productions; as also, whether in the parts of his several actors, and that of Punch in particular, there is not sometimes an impropriety of sentiments, and an impurity of diction. White's Chocolate-house, January 2. I came in here to-day at an hour, when only the dead appear in places of resort and gallantry, and saw hung up the escutcheon of sir Hannibal, a gentleman who used to frequent this place, and was taken up and interred by the company of upholders, as having been seen here at an unlicensed hour. The coat of the deceased is, three bowls and a jack in a green field; the erest, a dice-box, with the king of clubs and pam for supporters. Some days ago the body was carried out of town with great pomp and ceremony, in order to be buried with his ancestors at the Peak. It is a maxim in morality, that we are to speak nothing but truth of the living, nothing but good of the dead. As I have carefully observed the first during his life-time, I shall acquit myself as to the latter now he is deceased. He was knighted very young, not in the ordinary form, but by the common consent of mankind. decessor Æsop, and give him a fable instead In answer to this, I shall act like my preof a reply. mastiff, that guarded the village where he lived It happened one day, as a stout and honest against thieves and robbers, was very gravely walking, with one of his puppies by his side, all the little dogs in the street gathered about him and barked at him. The little puppy was so offended at this affront done to his sire, that he asked him why he would not fall upon them, and tear them to pieces? To which the sire answered, with great composure of mind, If there were no curs, I should be no mastiff.' No. 116.] Tuesday, January 5, 1709-10. --Pars minima est ipsa puella sui. Sheer-lane, January 4. Ovid. THE Court being prepared for proceeding on the cause of the petticoat, I gave orders to bring in a criminal, who was taken up as she went out of the puppet-show about three nights ago, and was now standing in the street, with a great concourse of people about her. Word was brought me, that she had endeavoured twice or thrice to come. in, but could not do it by reason of her petticoat, which was too large for the entrance of my house, though I had ordered both the folding-doors to be thrown open for its reception. Upon this, I desired the He was in his person between round and jury of matrons, who stood at my right hand, square; in the motion and gesture of his body to inform themselves of her condition, and know he was unaffected and free, as not having too whether there were any private reasons why great a respect for superiors. He was in his she might not make her appearance separate discourse bold and intrepid; and as every one from her petticoat. This was managed with has an excellence, as well as a failing, which great discretion, and had such an effect, that distinguishes him from other men, eloquence upon the return of the verdict from the bench was his predominant quality, which he had to of matrons, I issued out an order forthwith, so great perfection, that it was easier to him to that the criminal should be stripped of her speak, than to hold his tongue. This some-incumbrances, until she became little enough times exposed him to the derision of men who had much less parts than himself; and, indeed, his great volubility, and inimitable manner of speaking, as well as the great courage he showed on those occasions, did sometimes betray him into that figure of speech which is commonly distinguished by the name of Gasconade. To mention no other, he professed in this very place, some days before he died, that he would be one of the six that would undertake to assault me;' for which reason I have had his figure upon my wall until the hour of his death; and am resolved for the future to bury every one forthwith who I hear has an intention to kill me. Since I am upon the subject of my adversaries, I shall here publish a short letter, which I have received from a well-wisher, and is as follows: 'SAGE SIR,-You cannot but know, there are many scribblers, and others, who revile you and to enter my house.' I had before given directions for an engine of several legs, that could contract or open itself like the top of an umbrella, in order to place the petticoat upon it, by which means I might leisurely take a survey of it, as it should appear in its proper dimensions. This was all done accordingly; and, forthwith, upon the closing of the engine, the petticoat was brought into court. I then directed the machine to be set upon the table, and dilated in such a manner as to show the garment in its utmost circumference; but my great hall was too narunfolded, it described so immoderate a circle, row for the experiment; for before it was half that the lower part of it brushed upon my face as I sat in my chair of judicature. I then incoat; and to my great surprise was directed to quired for the person that belonged to the pettiface and shape, that I bid her come out of the a very beautiful young damsel, with so pretty a crowd, and seated her upon a little crock at my |