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ture to let the fellow starve, because he was not fit to attend his vivacities.

into promises out of their impatience of importunity. In this latter case, it would be a very useful inquiry to know the history of recommendations. I shall end this discourse with a letter of recom There are, you must know, certain abettors of this mendation from Horace to Claudius Nero. You way of torment, who make it a profession to man- will see in that letter a slowness to ask a favor, a age the affairs of candidates. These gentlemen strong reason for being unable to deny his good let out their impudence to their clients, and supply word any longer, and that it is a service to the any defective recommendation, by informing how person to whom he recommends, to comply with such and such a man is to be attacked. They will what is asked; all which are necessary circumtell you, get the least scrap from Mr. Such-a-one, stances, both in justice and good-breeding, if a and leave the rest to them. When one of these man would ask so as to have reason to complain undertakers has your business in hand, you may of a denial; and indeed a man should not in strictbe sick, absent in town or country, and the patron ness ask otherwise. In hopes the authority of shall be worried, or you prevail. I remember to have Horace, who perfectly understood how to live with been shown a gentleman some years ago, who great men, may have a good effect toward amendpunished a whole people for their facility in giving this facility in people of condition, and the ing their credentials. This person had belonged confidence of those who apply to them without to a regiment which did duty in the West Indies, merit, I have translated the epistle. and, by the mortality of the place, happened to be commanding officer in the colony. He oppressed his subjects with great frankness, till be became sensible that he was heartily hated by every man under his command. When he had carried his point to be thus detestable, in a pretended fit of dishumor, and feigned uneasiness of living where he found he was so universally unacceptable, he communicated to the chief inhabitants a design he had to return for England, provided they would give him ample testimonials of their approbation The planters came into it to a man, and, in proportion to his deserving the quite contrary, the words justice, generosity, and courage, were inserted in his commission, not omitting the general good-liking of people of all conditions in the colony. gentleman returns for England, and within a few months after, came back to them their governor, on the strength of their own testimonials.


Such a rebuke as this cannot indeed happen to easy recommenders, in the ordinary course of things, from one hand to another; but how would a man bear to have it said to him, "The person I took into confidence on the credit you gave him, has proved false, unjust, and has not answered any way the character you gave me of him?"

I cannot but conceive very good hopes of that rake Jack Toper of the Temple, for an honest scrupulousness in this point. A friend of his meeting with a servant that had formerly lived with Jack, and having a mind to take him, sent to him to know what faults the fellow had, since he could not please such a careless fellow as he was. His answer was as follows:


"Thomas that lived with me was turned away because he was too good for me. You know I live in taverns; he is an orderly sober rascal, and thinks much to sleep in an entry until two in the morning. He told me one day; when he was dress ing me, that he wondered I was not dead before now, since I went to dinner in the evening, and went to supper at two in the morning. We were com ing down Essex-street one night a little flustered, and I was giving him the word to alarm the watch; he had the impudence to tell me it was against the law. You that are married, and live one day after another the same way, and so on a whole week, I dare say will like him, and he will be glad to have his meat in due season. The fellow is certainly very honest. My service to your lady. "Yours,

J. T."



"Septimius, who waits upon you with this, is very well acquainted with the place you are pleased to allow me in your friendship. For when he besuch a manner as to be received by you, who are seeches me to recommend him to your notice, in delicate in the choice of your friends and domestics, he knows our intimacy, and understands my ability to serve him better than I do myself. I have defended myself against his ambition to be yours, as long as I possibly could; but fearing the imputation of hiding my power in you out of mean and selfish considerations, I am at last preavoid the appearance of a greater fault, I have put vailed upon to give you this trouble. Thus to on this confidence. If you can forgive this transgression of modesty in behalf of a friend, receive and take it from me that he is an honest and a this gentleman into your interests and friendship, brave man."

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ABOUT an age ago it was the fashion in England for every one that would be thought religious, to throw as much sanctity as possible into his face, and in particular to abstain from all appearances of mirth and pleasantry, which were looked upon as the marks of a carnal mind. The saint was of a sorrowful countenance, and generally eaten up with spleen and melancholy. A gentleman, who was lately a great ornament to the learned world, has diverted me more than once with an account of the reception which he met with from a very famous independent minister, who was head of a colleget in those times. This gentleman was then a young adventurer in the republic of letters, and just fitted out for the university with a good cargo of Latin and Greek. His friends were resolved that he should try his fortune at an election which was drawing near in the college, of which the independent minister whom I have before mentioned was governor. The youth, according to custom, waited on him in order to be examined. He was received at the door by a servant who was one of that gloomy generation that were then in fashion.

Now this was very fair dealing. Jack knew very well that though the love of order made a The gentleman here alluded to was Anthony Henley, man very awkward in his equipage, it was a val- Esq., who died much lamented in August, 1711. nable quality among the queer people who live by President of Magdalen College in Oxford, and one of the asrule; and had too much good sense and good na-sembly of divines who sat at Westminster.

The head of a college was Dr. Thomas Goodwin, S. T. P.,

He conducted him, with great silence and serious ness, to a long gallery, which was darkened at noon-day, and had only a single candle burning in it. After a short stay in this melancholy apart ment, he was led into a chamber hung with black, where he entertained himself for some time by the glimmering of a taper, until at length the head of the college came out to him from an inner room, with half a dozen nightcaps upon his head, and a religious horror in his countenance. The young man trembled; but his fears increased, when instead of being asked what progress he had made in learning, he was examined how he abounded in grace. His Latin and Greek stood him in little stead; he was to give an account only of the state of his soul; whether he was of the number of the elect; what was the occasion of the conversion; upon what day of the month, and hour of the day it happened; how it was carried on, and when completed. The whole examination was summed up with one short question, namely: whether he was prepared for death? The boy, who had been bred up by honest parents, was frightened out of his wits at the solemnity of the proceeding, and especially by the last dreadful interrogatory; so that, upon making his escape out of this house of mourning, he could never be brought a second time to the examination, as not being able to go through the terrors of it.

Notwithstanding this general form and outside of religion is pretty well worn out among us, there are many persons who, by a natural uncheerfulness of heart, mistaken notions of piety, or weakness of understanding, love to indulge this uncomfortable way of life, and give up themselves a prey to grief and melancholy. Superstitious fears and groundless scruples cut them off from the pleasures of conversation, and all those social entertain ments, which are not only innocent but laudable; as if mirth was made for reprobates, and cheerfulness of heart denied those who are the only persons that have a proper title to it.

Sombrius, is one of these sons of sorrow. He thinks himself obliged in duty to be sad and dis

bow such a frame of mind is not only the most lovely, but the most commendable in a virtuous person. In short, those who represent religion in so unamiable a light, are like the spies sent by Moses to make a discovery of the land of promise, when by their reports they discouraged the people from entering upon it. Those who show us the joy, the cheerfulness, the good-humor, that naturally spring up in this happy state, are like the spies bringing along with them the clusters of grapes, and delicious fruits, that might invite their companions into the pleasant country which produced them.

An eminent pagan writert has made a discourse to show that the atheist, who denies a God, does him less dishonor than the man who owns his being, but at the same time believes him to be cruel, hard to please, and terrible to human nature. "For my own part," says he, “I would rather it should be said of me, that there was never any such man as Plutarch, than that Plutarch was ill-natured, capricious, or unhuman.”

If we may believe our logicians, man is distinguished from all other creatures by the faculty of laughter. He has a heart capable of mirth, and naturally disposed to it. It is not the business of virtue to extirpate the affections of the mind, but to regulate them. It may moderate and restrain, but was not designed to banish gladness from the heart of man. Religion contracts the circle of our pleasures, but leaves it wide enough for her vota ries to expatiate in. The contemplation of the Divine Being, and the exercise of virtue, are, in their own nature, so far from excluding all glad ness of heart, that they are perpetual sources of it. In a word, the true spirit of religion cheers, as well as composes, the soul; it banishes indeed all levity of behavior, all vicious and dissolute mirth; but in exchange fills the mind with a per petual serenity, uninterrupted cheerfulness, and an habitual inclination to please others, as well as to be pleased in itself.-O.

consolate. He looks on a sudden fit of laughter No. 495.] SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1712.

as a breach of his baptismal vow. An innocent jest startles him like blasphemy. Tell him of one who is advanced to a title of honor, he lifts up his hands and eyes; describe a public ceremony, he shakes his head; show him a gay equipage, he blesses himself. All the little ornaments of life are pomps and vanities. Mirth is wanton, and wit profane. He is scandalized at youth for being lively, and at childhood for being playful. He sits at a christening, or a marriage feast, as at a funeral; sighs at the conclusion of a merry story, and grows devout when the rest of the company grow pleasant. After all, Sombrius is a religious man, and would have behaved himself very properly, had he lived when Christianity was under a general persecution. I would by no means presume to tax such characters with hypocrisy, as is done too frequently: that being a vice which I think none but He who knows the secrets of men's hearts should pretend to discover in another, where the proofs of it do not amount to a demonstration. On the contrary, as there are many excellent persons who are weighed down by this habitual sorrow of heart, they rather deserve our compassion than our reproaches. I think, however, they would do well to consider whether such a behavior does not deter men from a religious life, by representing it as an unsociable state, that extinguishes all joy and gladness, darkens the face of nature, and destroys the relish of being itself.

I have, in former papers, shown how great a tendency there is to cheerfulness in religion, and

Duris ut ilex tonsa bipennibus,
Nigræ feraci frondis in Algido,

Per damna, per cædes, ab ipso

Ducit opes animumque ferro.-HOR. 4 Od. iv. 57.
-Like an oak on some cold mountain brow,
At ev'ry wound they sprout and grow:
The ax and sword new vigor give,

And by their ruins they revive.-ANON.

As I am one who, by my profession, am obliged to look into all kinds of men, there are none whom I consider with so much pleasure, as those who have anything new or extraordinary in their char acters, or ways of living. For this reason, I have often amused myself with speculations on the race of people called Jews, many of whom I have met with in most of the considerable towns which I have passed through in the course of my travels. They are, indeed, so disseminated through all the trading parts of the world, that they are become the instruments by which the most distant nations converse with one another, and by which mankind are knit together in a general correspondente. They are like the pegs and nails in a great bud ing, which, though they are but little valued in themselves, are absolutely necessary to keep the whole frame together.

That I may not fall into any common beaten tracks of observation, I shall consider this people in three views. First, with regard to their number,

Num. ch. xiii.

+Plut. Opera, tom i, p. 286. H. Steph. 1572, 12mo.

secondly, their dispersion; and thirdly, their adherence to their religion: and afterward endeavor to show, first, what natural reasons, and, secondly, what providential reasons, may be assigned for these three remarkable particulars.

The Jews are looked upon by many to be as numerous at present, as they were formerly in the land of Canaan.

This is wonderful, considering the dreadful slaughter made of them under some of the Roman emperors, which historians describe by the death of many hundred thousands in a war; and the innumerable massacres and persecutions they have undergone in Turkey, as well as in all Christian nations in the world. The rabbins, to express the great havoc which has been sometimes made of them, tell us after their usual manner of hyperbole, that here were such torrents of holy blood shed, as carried rocks of a hundred yards in circumference above three miles into the sea.

Their dispersion is the second remarkable particular in this people. They swarm over all the East, and are settled in the remotest parts of China.

ticulars, we shall find that their numbers, dispersion, and adherence to their religion, have furnished every age, and every nation of the world, with the strongest arguments for the Christian faith, not only as these very particulars are foretold of them, but as they themselves are the depositories of these, and all the other prophesies, which tend to their own confusion. Their number furnishes us with a sufficient cloud of witnesses that attest the truth of the old Bible. Their dispersion spreads these witnesses through all parts of the world. The adherence to their religion makes their testimony unquestionable. Had the whole body of Jews been converted to Christianity, we should certainly have thought all the prophesies of the Old Testament, that relate to the coming and history of our blessed Savior, forged by Christians, and have looked upon them, with the prophesies of the Sibyls, as made many years after the events they pretended to foretell.-O.

They are spread through most of the nations in No. 496.] MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1712.

Europe and Africa, and many families of them are established in the West Indies; not to mention whole nations bordering on Prester-John's country, and discovered in the inner parts of America, if we may give any credit to their own writers.

Their firm adherence to their religion is no less remarkable than their numbers and dispersion, especially considering it as persecuted or contemned over the face of the whole earth. This is likewise the more remarkable, if we consider the frequent apostasies of this people, when they lived under their kings in the land of promise, and within sight of their temple.

If in the next place we examine what may be the natural reasons for these three particulars which we find in the Jews, and which are not to be found in any other religion or people, I can, in the first place, attribute their numbers to nothing but their constant employment, their abstinence, their exemption from wars, and above all, their frequent marriages; for they look on celibacy as an accursed state, and generally are married before twenty, as hoping the Messiah may descend from them.

The dispersion of the Jews into all the nations of the earth is the second remarkable particular of that people, though not so hard to be accounted for. They were always in rebellions and tumults while they had the temple and holy city in view, for which reason they have often been driven out of their old habitations in the land of promise. They have as often been banished out of most other places where they have settled, which must very much disperse and scatter a people, and oblige them to seek a livelihood where they can find it. Beside, the whole people is now a race of such merchants as are wanderers by profession, and, at the same time, are in most, if not all places, incapable of either lands or offices that might engage them to make any part of the world their home.

This dispersion would probably have lost their religion, had it not been secured by the strength of its constitution; for they are to live all in a body, and generally within the same inclosure; to marry among themselves, and to eat no meats that are not killed or preserved their own way. This shuts them out from all table conversation, and the most agreeable intercourses of life; and, by consequence, excludes them from the most probable means of conversation.

If, in the last place, we consider what providential reasons may be assigned for these three par

Gnatum pariter uti his decuit, aut etiam amplius,
Quod illa ætas magis ad hæc idonea est.

TERENT. Heaut. act. i. sc. 1. Your son ought to have shared in these things, because

youth is best suited to the enjoyment of them. "MR. SPECTATOR,

"THOSE ancients who were the most accurate in their remarks on the genius and temper of mankind, by considering the various bent and scope of our actions, throughout the progress of life, have with great exactness allotted inclinations and objects of desire particular to every stage, according to the different circumstances of our conversation and fortune through the several periods of it. Hence they were disposed easily to excuse those excesses which might possibly arise from a too eager pursuit of the affections more immediately proper to each state. They indulged the levity of childhood with tenderness, overlooked the gayety of youth with good nature, tempered the froward ambition and impatience of ripened manhood with discretion, and kindly imputed the tenacious avarice of old men to their want of relish of any other enjoyment. Such allowances as these were no less advantageous to common society than obliging to particular persons; for, by maintaining a decency and regularity in the course of life, they supported the dignity of human nature, which then suffers the greatest violence when the order of things is inverted; and in nothing is it more remarkably vilified and ridiculous, than when feebleness preposterously attempts to adorn itself with that outward pomp and luster, which serve only to set off the bloom of youth with better advantage. I was insensibly carried into reflections of this nature by just now meeting Paulino (who is in his climacteric) bedecked with the utmost splendor of dress and equipage, and giving an unbounded loose to all manner of pleasure, while his only son is debarred all innocent diversion, and may be seen frequently solacing himself in the Mall with no other attendance than one antiquated servant of his father's for a companion and director.

"It is a monstrous want of reflection, that a man cannot consider, that when he cannot resign the pleasures of life in his decay, of appetite and inclination to them, his son must have a much uneasier task to resist the impetuosity of growing desires. The skill therefore should, methinks, be, to let a son want no lawful diversion, in proportion to his future fortune, and the figure he is to make in the world. The first step toward virtue

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"Tunbridge, Sept. 26, 1712.

"That insufferable prude, Mrs. Mohair, who has told such stories of the company here, is with child, for all her nice airs and her crooked legs. Pray be sure to put her in for both these two things, and you will oblige everybody here, especially | "Your humble Servant,



A cunning old fox this!

that I have observed, in young men of condition | that have run into excesses, has been, that they had a regard to their quality and reputation in the management of their vices. Narrowness in their circumstances has made many youths, to supply themselves as debauchees, commence cheats and rascais. The father who allows his son to the utmost ability avoids this latter evil, which as to the world is much greater than the former. But the contrary practice has prevailed so much among some men, that I have known them deny them what was merely necessary for education stable to their quality. Poor young Antonio is a lamentable instance of ill-conduct in this kind. No. 497.] TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1712 The young man did not want natural talents; but the father of him was a coxcomb, who affected being a nice gentleman so unmercifully, that he could not endure, in his sight, or the frequent mention of one, who was his son; growing into manhood, and thrusting him out of the gay world. I have often thought the father took a secret pleas ure, in reflecting that, when that fine house and seat came into the next hands, it would revive his memory, as a person who knew how to enjoy them, from observation of the rusticity and ignorance of his successor. Certain it is, that a man may, if he will, let his heart close to the having no regard to anything but his dear self, even with exclusion of his very dear children. I recommend this subject to your consideration, and am, Sir, "Your most humble Servant,


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"T. B."

London, Sept. 26, 1712. "I am just come from Tunbridge, and have since my return read Mrs. Matilda Mohair's letter to you. She pretends to make a mighty story about the diversion of swinging in that place, What was done, was only among relations, and no man swung any woman who was not second cousin at furthest. She is pleased to say, care was taken that the gallants tied the ladies' legs before they were wafted into the air. Since she is so spiteful, I will tell you the plain truth. There was so much nicety observed, since we were all, as I just now told you, near relations: but Mrs. Mohair herself has been swung there, and she invents all this malice, because it was observed she has crooked legs, of which I was an eye witness.

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Your humble Servant,

"RACHEL SHOESTRING." "Tunbridge, Sept. 26, 1712.

We have just now read your paper, containing Mohair's letter. It is an invention of her own from one end to the other; and I desire you would print the inclosed letter by itself, and shorten it so as to come within the compass of your half sheet. She is the most malicious minx in the world, for all she looks so innocent. Do not leave out that part about her being in love with her father's butler, which makes her shun men; for that is the truest of it all.

"Your humble Servant,
"P. S. She has crooked legs."
"Tunbridge, Sept. 26, 1712.


"All that Mrs. Mohair is so vexed at against the good company of this place is, that we all know she has crooked legs. This is certainly true. I do not care for putting my name, because one would not be in the power of the creature.

"Your humble Servant, "nown."

A FAVOR Well bestowed is almost as great an honor to him who confers it as to him who receives it. What indeed makes for the superior reputa tion of the patron in this case is, that he is always surrounded with specious pretenses of unworthy candidates, and is often alone in the kind inclina tion he has toward the well-deserving. Justice is the first quality in the man who is in a post of direction; and I remember to have heard an old gentleman talk of the civil wars, and in his relation give an account of a general officer, who with this one quality, without any shining endow ments, became so popularly beloved and honored, that all decisions between man and man were laid before him by the parties concerned, in a private way; and they would lay by their animosities implicity, if he bid them be friends, or submit themselves in the wrong without reluctance, if he said it, without waiting the judgment of courtsmartial. His manner was to keep the dates of all commissions in his closet, and wholly dismiss from the service such who were deficient in their duty; and after that took care to prefer according to the order of battle. His familiars were his entire friends, and could have no interested views in courting his acquaintance; for his affection was no step to their preferment, though it was to their reputation. By this means, a kind aspect, a salutation, a smile and giving out his hand, had the weight of what is esteemed by vulgar minds more substantial. His business was very short, and he who had nothing to do but justice, was never affronted with a request of a familiar daily visitant for what was due to a brave man at a distance. Extraordinary merit he used to recommend to the king for some distinction at home; till the order of battle made way for his rising in the troops. Add to this, that he had an excellent manner of getting rid of such who he observed were good at a halt, as his phrase was. Under this description he comprehended all those who were contented to live without reproach, and had no promptitude in their minds toward glory. These fellows were also recommended to the king, and taken off of the general's hands into posts wherein diligence and common honesty were all that were necessary. This general had no weak part in his line, but every man had as much care upon him, and as much honor to lose as himself. Every officer could answer for what passed where he was; and the general's presence was never necessary anywhere, But where he had placed himself at the first dis position, except that accident happened from extraordinary efforts of the enemy which he could not foresee; but it was remarkable that it never fell out from failure in his own troops. It must be confessed the world is just so much out of order, as an unworthy person possesses what should be in the direction of him who has better pretensions

to it.

Instead of such a conduct as this old fellow

used to describe in his general, all the evils which | virtue and religion, be pleased to reflect, that for have ever happened among mankind have arose the sake of your own safety, it is not proper to be from the wanton disposition of the favors of the so very much in jest. When the pope is thus powerful. It is generally all that men of modesty merry, the people will in time begin to think many and virtue can do, to fall in with some whimsical things, which they have hitherto beheld with great turn in a great man, to make way for things of real veneration, are in themselves objects of scorn and and absolute service. In the time of Don Sebas- derision. If they once get a trick of knowing tian of Portugal, or some time since, the first min- how to laugh, your holiness's saying this sentence ister would let nothing come near him but what in one nightcap, and the other with the other, the bore the most profound face of wisdom and gra- change of your slippers, bringing you your staff in vity. They carried it so far, that for the greater the midst of a prayer, then stripping you of one show of their profound knowledge, a pair of spec- vest, and clapping on a second during divine ser tacles tied on their noses, with a black ribbon vice, will be found out to have nothing in it. round their heads, was what completed the dress Consider, Sir, that at this rate a head will be reckof those who made their court at his levee, and oned never the wiser for being bald; and the ignonone with naked noses were admitted to his pres- rant will be apt to say, that going barefoot does ence. A blunt honest fellow, who had a command not at all help on in the way to heaven. The in the train of artillery, had attempted to make an red cap and the cowl will fall under the same conimpression upon the porter, day after day in vain, tempt; and the vulgar will tell us to our faces, until at length he made his appearance in a very that we shall have no authority over them but thoughtful dark suit of clothes and two pair of spec- from the force of our arguments and the sanctity tacles on at once. He was conducted from room of our lives." to room, with great deference, to the minister; and, carrying on the farce of the place, he told his excellency that he had pretended in this manner to be wiser than he really was, but with no ill

intention; but he was honest Such-a-one of the No. 498.] WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1712.

Frustra retinacula tendens

Fertur equis auriga, neque audit currus habenas.
VIRG. Georg. i. 514.
Nor reins, nor curbs, nor cries, the horses fear,
But force along the trembling charioteer.-DRYDEN.

train, and he came to tell him that they wanted wheelbarrows and pickaxes. The thing happened not to displease, the great man was seen to smile, and the successful officer was reconducted with the same profound ceremony out of the house. When Leo X, reigned pope of Rome, his holi- "TO THE SPECTATOr-General of Great Britain,

ness, though a man of sense, and of an excellent taste of letters, of all things affected fools, buffoons, humorists and coxcombs. Whether it were from vanity, and that he enjoyed no talents in other men but what were inferior to him, or whatever it was, he carried it so far, that his whole delight was in finding out new fools, and, as our phrase is, playing them off, and making them show themselves to advantage. A priest of his former acquaintance suffered a great many disappointments in attempting to find access to him in a regular character, until at last in despair he retired from Rome, and returned in an equipage so very fantastical, both as to the dress of himself and servants, that the whole court were in an emulation who should first introduce him to his holiness. What added to the expectation his holiness had of the pleasure he should have in his follies, was, that this fellow, in a dress the most exquisitely ridiculous, desired he might speak to him alone, for he had matters of the highest importance, upon which he wanted a conference. Nothing could be denied to a coxcomb of so great hope; but when they were apart, the impostor revealed himself, and spoke as follows:

"Do not be surprised, most holy father, at seeing, instead of a coxcomb to laugh at, your old friend, who has taken this way of access to admonish you of your own folly. Can anything show your holiness how unworthily you treat mankind, more than my being put upon this difficulty to speak with you? It is a degree of folly to delight to see it in others, and it is the greatest insolence imaginable to rejoice in the disgrace of human nature. It is a criminal humility in a person of your holiness's understanding, to believe you cannot excel but in the conversation of half wits, humorists, coxcombs, and buffoons. If your holiness has a mind to be diverted like a rational man, you have a great opportunity for it, in disrobing all the impertinents you have favored of all their riches and trappings at once, and bestowing them on the humble, the virtuous, and the meek. If your holiness is not concerned for the sake of

"From the further end of the Widow's Coffee-house in Devereux-Court, Monday evening, twenty-eight minutes and a half past six.


"In short, to use no other preface, if I should tell you that I have seen a hackney-coachman, when he has come to set down his fare, which has consisted of two or three very fine ladies, hand them out, and salute every one of them with an air of familiarity, without giving the least offense, you would perhaps think me guilty of a gasconade. But to clear myself from that imputation, and to explain this matter to you, I assure you that there are many illustrious youths within this city, who frequently recreate themselves by driving of a hackney-coach; but those whom, above all others, I would recommend to you, are the young gentlemen belonging to the inns of court. We have, I think, about a dozen coachmen, who have chambers here in the Temple; and, as it is reasonable to believe others will follow their example, we may perhaps in time (if it shall be thought convenient), be drove to Westminster by our own fraternity, allowing every fifth person to apply his meditations this way, which is but a modest computation, as the humor is now likely to take. It is to be hoped, likewise, that there are in the other nurseries of the law to be found a proportionable number of these hopeful plants, springing up to the everlasting renown of their native country. Of how long standing this humor has been, I know not. The first time I had any particular reason to take notice of it was about this time twelvemonth, when, being upon Hampstead-heath with some of these studious young men, who went thither purely for the sake of contemplation, nothing would serve them but I must go through a course of this phi losophy too; and, being ever willing to embellish myself with any commendable qualification, it was not long ere they persuaded me into the coach box; nor indeed much longer, before I underwent the fate of my brother Phaeton; for, having drove about fifty paces with pretty good success, through my own natural sagacity, together with the good

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