when he pleases to speak.' They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown 5 me very often in her way, and she as often has directed a discourse to me which I do not understand. This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with all mankind, and you must make 10 love to her, as you would conquer the sphinx, by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man be who could converse with a creature-But, after all, you may be sure her heart is 15 fixed on some one or other; and yet I have been cred

ibly informed-but who can believe half that is said? After she had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom and adjusted her tucker: Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding her too ear20 nestly. They say she sings excellently: Her voice in. her ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the 25 country: She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. I can assure you, sir, were you to behold her you would be in the same* condition, for as her speech is music her form is angelic. But I find I grow irregular while I am talking of her; but in30 deed it would be stupidity to be unconcerned at such

perfection. Oh, the excellent creature! she is as inimitable to all women as she is inaccessible to all men."

I found my friend begin to rave and insensibly led 5 him towards the house that we might be joined by 'some other company; and am convinced that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which appears in some parts of my friend's discourse; though he has so much command of himself as not di10 rectly to mention her, yet according to that* of Martial which one knows not how to render in English, "Dum tacet hanc loquitur." I shall end this paper with that whole epigram which represents with much humor my honest friend's condition.

Quicquid agit Rufus, nihil est nisi Naevia Rufo;
Si gaudet, si flet, si tacet, hanc loquitur:
Cenat, propinat, poscit, negat, annuit—una est
Naevia, si non sit Naevia, mutus erit.
Scriberet hesternâ patri cum luce salutem,
"Naevia lux," inquit, "Naevia lumen, ave.

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

XIII

THE COVERLEY ECONOMY

[No. 114.-Steele. Wednesday, July 11.]

-Paupertatis pudor et fuga- 1

-Horace.

Economy in our affairs has the same effect upon our fortunes which good breeding has upon our conversations. There is a pretending behavior in both cases which instead of making men esteemed renders them both miserable and contemptible. We had yesterday at Sir Roger's a set of country gentlemen who dined. with him; and after dinner the glass was taken by those who pleased pretty plentifully. Among others I observed a person of a tolerable good aspect who seemed to be more greedy of liquor than any of the company, and yet, methought, he did not taste it with delight. As he grew warm, he was suspicious of everything that was said, and as he advanced towards being fuddled, his humor grew worse. At the same time his 15 bitterness seemed to be rather an inward dissatisfaction in his own mind than any dislike he had taken to the company. Upon hearing his name, I knew him. to be a gentleman of a considerable fortune in this county, but greatly in debt. What gives the unhappy

1 The shame and dread of poverty.

man this peevishness of spirit is, that his estate is dipped, and is eating out with usury; and yet he has not the heart to sell any part of it. His proud stomach, at the cost of restless nights, constant inquietudes, 5 danger of affronts, and a thousand nameless inconveniences, preserves this canker in his fortune, rather than it shall be said he is a man of fewer hundreds a year than he has been commonly reputed. Thus he endures the torment of poverty, to avoid the name of 10 being less rich. If you go to his house you see great plenty, but served in a manner that shows it is all unnatural, and that the master's mind is not at home. There is a certain waste and carelessness in the air of everything, and the whole appears but a covered indi15 gence, a magnificent poverty. That neatness and cheerfulness which attends the table of him who lives within compass is wanting, and exchanged for a libertine way of service in all about him.

This gentleman's conduct, though a very common 20 way of management, is as ridiculous as that officer's

would be who had but few men under, his command, and should take the charge of an extent of country rather than of a small pass. To pay for, personate, and keep in a man's hands a greater estate than he 25 really has, is of all others the most unpardonable vanity, and must in the end reduce the man who is guilty of it to dishonor. Yet, if we look, round us in any county of Great Britain, we shall see many in this fatal error; if that may be called by so soft a name 330 which proceeds from a false shame of appearing what

they really are, when the contrary behavior would in a short time advance them to the condition which they pretend to.

Laertes has fifteen hundred pounds a year, which is 5 mortgaged for six thousand pounds; but it is impossible to convince him that if he sold as much as would pay off that debt he would save four* shillings in the pound, which he gives for the vanity of being the reputed master of it. Yet, if Laertes did this, he 10 would perhaps be easier in his own fortune; but then, Irus, a fellow of yesterday, who has but twelve hundred a year, would be his equal. Rather than this shall be, Laertes goes on to bring well-born beggars into the world, and every twelve-month charges his 15 estate with at least one year's rent more by the birth of a child.

Laertes and Irus are neighbors, whose way of living. are an abomination to each other. Irus is moved by the fear of poverty, and Laertes by the shame of it. 20 Though the motive of action is of so near affinity in both, and may be resolved into this, "That to each of them poverty is the greatest of all evils," yet are their manners very widely different. Shame of poverty makes Laertes launch into unnecessary equipage, vain 25 expense, and lavish entertainments; fear of poverty makes Irus allow himself only plain necessaries, appear without a servant, sell his own corn, attend his laborers, and be himself a laborer. Shame of poverty. makes Laertes go every day a step nearer to it, ani 1 Of as much land as would pay off that debt.