art happier than one in health that' always fears it.” The knight had gone on, but that a third man ended the scene by applauding the knight's eloquence and philosophy, in a laughter too violent for his own constitution, as much as -he mocked that of Africanus and Monoculus.

St. James's Coffee-house, July 1.

This day arrived three mails from Holland, with advices relating to the posture of affairs in the Low Countries, which say, that the Confederate army extends from Luchin, on the causeway between Tournay and Lisle, to Epain near Mortagne on the Scheldt. The Marshal Villars remains in his camp at Lens; but it is said, he detached ten thousand men under the command of the Chevalier de Luxembourg, with orders to form a camp at Crepin on the Haine, between Condé and St. Guillain, where he is to be joined by the Elector of Bavaria with a body of troops, and after their conjunction, to attempt to march into Brabant. But they write from Brussels, that the Duke of Marlborough having it equally in his power to make detachments to the same parts, they are under no apprehensions from these reports for the safety of their country. They further add from Brussels, that they have good authority for believing that the French troops under the conduct of Marshal de Bezons are retiring out of Spain.

1

"Thou that hast no sense of death, art happier than one that" (folio; altered in Errata in No. 37).

2 "This paper, with a blank leaf to write business on, may be had of J. Morphew, near Stationers'-hall" (folio).

No. 37.

[? STEELE,'

From Saturday, July 2, to Tuesday, July 5, 1709.

White's Chocolate-house, July 2.

It may be thought very unaccountable, that I,2 who can never be supposed to go to White's, should pretend to talk to you of matters proper for, or in the style of, that place. But though I do not go to these public haunts, I receive visits from those who do ; and for all they pretend so much to the contrary, they are as talkative as our sex, and as much at a loss to entertain the present company, without sacrificing the last, as we ourselves. This reflection has led me into the consideration of the use of speech; and made me look over in my memory all my acquaintance of both sexes, to know to which I may more justly impute the sin of superfluous discourse, with regard to conversation, and not entering into it as it respects religion. I foresee my acquaintance will immediately, upon starting this subject, ask me, how I shall celebrate Mrs. Alse Copswood,' the Yorkshire huntress, who is come to town lately, and moves as if she were on her nag, and going to take a five-bar gate; and is as loud as if she were following her dogs. I can easily answer that; for she is as soft as Damon, in comparison of her brother-in-law Tom Bellfrey, who is the most accomplished man in this kingdom for all gentlemanlike activities and accomplishments. It

1 See note to No. 36.

2

Jenny Distaff.

3 The Jacobite Archbishop of York, Dr. John Sharpe, who died in 1713. See Examiner, vol. iv. No. 22.

Dr. Blackall (1654-1716), who was made Bishop of Exeter in 1708.

is allowed, that he is a professed enemy to the Italian performers in music. But then for our own native manner, according to the customs and known usages of our island, he is to be preferred, for the generality of the pleasure he bestows, much above those fellows,' though they sing to full theatres. For what is a theatrical voice to that of a fox-hunter? I have been at a musical entertainment in an open field, where it amazed me to hear to what pitches the chief masters would reach. There was a meeting near our seat in Staffordshire, and the most eminent of all the counties of England were at it. How wonderful was the harmony between men and dogs! Robin Cartail of Bucks was to answer to Jowler; Mr. Tinbreast of Cornwall was appointed to open with Sweetlips, and Beau Slimber, a Londoner, undertook to keep up with Trips, a whelp just set in Tom Bellfrey and Ringwood were coupled together, to fill the cry on all occasions, and be in at the death of the fox, hare, or stag; for which both the dog and the man were excellently suited, and loved one another, and were as much together as Banister and King. When Jowler first alarmed the field, Cartail repeated every note; Sweetlips' treble succeeded, and shook the wood; Tinbreast echoed a quarter of a mile beyond it. We were soon after all at a loss, till we rid up, and found Trips and Slimber at a default in half-notes: but the day and the tune was recovered by Tom Bellfrey and Ringwood, to the great joy of us all, though they drowned every other voice: for Bellfrey carries a note four furlongs, three rood, and six paces, farther than any other in England. But I fear the mention of this will be thought a digression from my purpose about speech but I answer, No. Since this is used where speech rather should be employed, it may come into con

1 The French Prophets, from the Cevennes. Dr. Blackall's sermon against them was printed by order of the Queen,

sideration in the same chapter: for Mr. Bellfrey being at a visit where I was, viz., his cousin's (Lady Dainty's) in Soho, was asked, what entertainments they had in the country? Now Bellfrey is very ignorant, and much a clown; but confident withal. In a word, he struck up a fox-chase: Lady Dainty's dog, Mr. Sippet, as she calls him, started and jumped out of his lady's lap, and fell a barking. Bellfrey went on, and called all the neighbouring parishes into the square. Never was woman in such confusion as that delicate lady. But there was no stopping her kinsman. A room full of ladies fell into the most violent laughter: my lady looked as if she was shrieking; Mr. Sippet in the middle of the room, breaking his heart with barking, but all of us unheard. As soon as Bellfrey became silent, up gets my lady, and takes him by the arm to lead him off: Bellfrey was in his boots. As she was hurrying him away, his spurs takes hold of her petticoat; his whip throws down a cabinet of china: he cries, "What! are your crocks rotten? Are your petticoats ragged? ? A man can't walk in your house for trincums. Every county of Great Britain has one hundred or more of this sort of fellows, who roar instead of speaking. Therefore if it be true, that we women are also given to greater fluency of words than is necessary, sure one that disturbs but a room or a family is more to be tolerated, than one who draws together parishes and counties, and sometimes (with an estate that might make him the blessing and ornament of the world around him) has no other view and ambition, but to be an animal above dogs and horses, without the relish of any one enjoyment, which is peculiar to the faculties of human nature. But I know it will here be said, that talking of mere country squires at this rate, is, as it were, to write against Valentine or Orson. To prove anything against the race of men, you must take them as

they are adorned with education, as they live in Courts, or have received instructions in colleges.

But I was so full of my late entertainment by Mr. Bellfrey, that I must defer pursuing this subject to another

day; and waive the proper observations upon the different offenders in this kind, some by profound eloquence, on small occasions, others by degrading speech upon great circumstances. Expect therefore to hear of the whisperer without business, the laugher without wit, the complainer without receiving injuries, and a very large crowd, which I shall not forestall, who are common (though not commonly observed) impertinents, whose tongues are too voluble for their brains, and are the general despisers of us women, though we have their superiors, the men of sense, for our servants.1

1 The following article appeared only in the folio issue :

Will's Coffee-house, July 3.

A very ingenious gentleman was complaining this evening, that the players are grown so severe critics, that they would not take in his play, though it has as many fine things in it as any play that has been writ since the days of Dryden. He began his discourse about his play with a preface.

"There is," said he, "somewhat (however we palliate it) in the very frame and make of us, that subjects our minds to chagrin and irresolution on any emergency of time or place. The difficulty grows on our sickened imagination, under all the killing circumstances of danger and disappointment. This we see, not only in the men of retirement and fancy, but in the characters of the men of action; with this only difference, the coward sees the danger, and sickens under it; the hero, warmed by the difficulty, dilates, and rises in proportion to that, and in some sort makes use of his very fears to disarm it. A remarkable instance of this we have in the great Cæsar, when he came to the Rubicon, and was entering upon a part, perhaps, the most hazardous he ever bore (certainly the most ungrateful), a war with his countrymen. When his mind brooded over personal affronts, perhaps his anger burned with a desire of revenge. But when more serious reflections laid before him the hazard of the enterprise, with the