so far as to explain my story to you. I fear my heart will not keep together till I have stabbed it. Poor, good old man!--Remember, he that killed your daughter died for it. In the article of death, I give you my thanks, and pray for you, though I dare not for myself. If it be possible, do not curse me','

No. 83. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1709. *

Senilis stultitia, quæ deliratio appellari solet, senum levium est, non omnium.
M. T. Crc.

That which is usually called dotage is not the foible of all old men, but only of such as are remarkable for their levity and inconstancy.

7

FROM MY OWN APARTMENT, OCT. 19.

It is my frequent practice to visit places of resort in this town where I am least known, to observe what

،

s Another Parnelle might make another hermit out of the curious materials which this paper supplies, for the exercise of a fine fancy, actuated by due reverence for God, and a thorough conviction of the wisdom and rectitude of his administration. High as the heavens are above the earth, so are his ways above our ways, and his thoughts above our thoughts, who maketh the winds his messengers, and his ministers the flames of fire.'

* STEELE'S.Steele appears to have been the author of that part at least of this number which gives occasion to mention the following things. The introductory paragraphs furnish a clear conclusive argument for the propriety of adding notes to these papers. Steele thought they required an explanation, which he purposed to have given for the benefit of posterity, at the time of their original publication. Much more must explanations be now wanted at the full expiration of ninety-six years. Long enough before ، the last paper of this kind, free-booters put their dishonest sickles into Steele's harvest. A pirated edition of one half of the Tatler appeared, before the other could be printed off in the stated course of the work. When the copy-right of the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, devolved from the author or publisher to other hands, it continued . to suffer often, and considerably, by invasions, and the property became almost common before the title to it elapsed, or even the right grew doubtful. The proprietors, disheartened by such insecurity and depredations, laboured in vain to prevent them, by the multiplication of editions,

reception my works meet with in the world, and what good effects I may promise myself from my labours:

and reduction of prices, until they became almost the only books in which so much paper and print was given for so little money. Hence it came, that these valuable writings have long been in a state, like that of a fine farm on an expiring lease, injured by incessant ploughing, from neglect of weeds, and for the want of manure. Steele evidently meant to have done more than is really performed, to enable his readers, to construe the more difficult parts of his writings.' Sir Richard's explanation would have, no doubt, been a very valuable, and a very elegant commentary. Failures in the promises of authors, and the vows of lovers,' however deplorable, it is ludicrous to lament. In default of such irretrievable illustrations, some notes may be secured now, which hereafter will be sought for in vain. The papers themselves contain much scattered information; nor are there yet wanting other means and materials, by the help of which the work may still be rendered more intelligible and entertaining. It really seems a desirable thing, and it is now high time to collect and chronicle all the knowledge relative to these writings, which has lain too long dispersed, which is every day growing less, and in a short time must be lost for ever.' The writers themselves, with the worthies who were the objects of their notice and allusions, their widows and daughters, their kinsmen and friends, have all quitted the stage, and there can hardly be any thing known that may not now be told.' To obviate all objections, and conform to Steele's intention, the gratification of merriment may still be suspended, at whatever risk,' the faulty characters may be left as they are, and only such as he is said or supposed to have commended need be mentioned with their proper names; for as we still live in an age wherein vice is very general, and virtue very particular, the latter only wants explanation.' Dr. Johnson's Life of Addison,^ passim.

An edition of the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, with notes of one kind or other, has been so long in agitation, as to be no longer expected. It has been the object of this writer's attention, more or less, upwards of twenty years; and many a barren book has been run over, and many a fruitless inquiry made, with a view to some such publication.

Nevertheless, it so happened at last, that the notes to the edition of 1786 were written for the most part on the spur of the occasion. They were originally offered, and are still repeated, with diffidence, some of them, it may be, too rashly, for want of better, and in order to elicit farther information; if they can but renew attention, and prove the means of bringing to light latent materials for others more useful or amusing, they will have answered a good end, and may easily be altered, suppressed, or sent to Lethe.' See Tatler, No. 79. ad finem. With all its faults and imperfections, and it is feared they are many, the present work has yet been raised to something more than was intended; and has some claim to indulgence on the score of its design, and with a view to its improvement. Bickerstaff's coadjutors well entitled to attention, and with them many

and it being a privilege asserted by monsieur Montaigne, and others, of vaif-glorious memory, that we writers of essays may talk of ourselves; I take the liberty to give an account of the remarks which I find are made by some of my gentle readers upon these my dissertations.

I happened this evening to fall into a coffee-house near the Exchange, where two persons were reading my account of the Table of Fame.'

The one of these was commenting as he read, and explaining who was meant by this and the other worthy as he passed on. I observed the person overagainst him wonderfully intent and satisfied with his explanation. When he came to Julius Cæsar, who is said to have refused any conductor to the Table;

whom their pens had recommended to some notice, have long been left floating near the whirlpools of Lethe,' in danger of being drowned together. This being now more a matter of regret than reprehension, the unfortunate sufferers can only be recommended to the skill and philanthropy of the ROYAL HUMANE SOCIETY. Some may be beyond the reach of their ingenuity; but many, and most of them it is hoped, may yet be so far revived as to furnish instruction or entertainment. A practitioner in their art whose various avocations, and truant disposition has retarded his proficiency, builds great expectations from superior and more persistive sagacity, on some success in little experiments.

Those especially, who are of the family of the Staffs, or related to any branch of it, cannot justify it to their own minds, or the world, if they should withhold their assistance from a work meant to be honourable to their progenitors, and beneficial to their posterity. They must not take it ill to be reminded, that there is more than a legal claim upon them, to give up all such fragments of the history of their ancestors as of right belong to this collection. In particular, the inheritors of fame and knowledge, in a right line from Stephen Clay, esq. and Mr. Ince, both of the Temple, or from Mr. Twisden, who fell at the battle of Mons, will be so kind as to pay their pepper-corns, and verify the titles to their successions. All, in a word, who have been benefited by the friendship or acquaintance any of the worthies who wrote, or are written of here, are called upon to pay their respective tributes of acknowledgement, and send in their rosebuds before they be withered.' Some delectable marks of regard from the kinsmen of the family have been received already; and as their fairyfavours shall always be treated with punctilious reverence, there is no reason to distrust their continuance. C.

of

, No, no,' said he, he is in the right of it, he has money enough to be welcome wherever he comes;' and then whispered, he means a certain colonel of the Train-bands.' Upon reading that Aristotle made his claim with some rudeness, but great strength of reason; Who can that be, so rough and so reasonable? It must be some Whig, I warrant you. There is nothing but party in these public papers.' Where Pythagoras is said to have a golden thigh", Ay, ay,' said he, he has money enough in his breeches; that is the alderman of our ward.' You must know, whatever he read, I found he interpreted from his own way of life and acquaintance. I am glad my readers can construe for themselves these difficult points; but, for the benefit of posterity, I design, when I come to write my last paper of this kind, to make it an explanation of all my former. In that piece, you shall have all I have commended, with their proper names. The faulty characters must be left as they are, because we live in an age wherein vice is very general, and virtue very particular; for which reason the latter only wants explanation.

But I must turn my present discourse to what is of yet greater regard to me than the care of my writings; that is to say, the preservation of a lady's heart. Little did I think I should ever have business of this kind on my hands more; but, as little as any one who knows me would believe it, there is a lady at this time who professes love to me. Her passion and good humour you shall have in her own words.

< MR. BICKERSTAFF,

6

I HAD formerly a very good opinion of myself; but it is now withdrawn, and I have placed it upon you, Mr. Bickerstaff, for whom I am not ashamed to declare I have a very great passion and tenderness. u Tatler, No. 81.

It is not for your face, for that I never saw; your shape and height I am equally a stranger to; but your understanding charms me, and I am lost if you do not dissemble a little love for me. I am not without hopes, because I am not like the tawdry gay things that are fit only to make bone-lace. I am neither childish-young, nor beldam-old, but, the world says, a good agreeable woman.

6

Speak peace to a troubled heart, troubled only for you; and in your next paper let me find your thoughts of me.

'Do not think of finding out who I am, for, notwithstanding your interest in demons, they cannot help you either to my name, or a sight of my face; therefore, do not let them deceive you.

'I can bear no discourse, if you are not the subject; and believe me, I know more of love than do of astronomy.

you

Pray say some civil things in return to my generosity, and you shall have my very best pen employed to thank you, and I will confirm it*.

There is something wonderfully pleasing in the favour of women; and this letter has put me in so good an humour that nothing could displease me since I received it. My boy breaks glasses and pipes; and instead of giving him a knock on the pate, as my way is, for I hate scolding at servants, I only say, Ah, Jack! thou hast a head, and so has a pin,' or some such merry expression. But, alas! how am I mortified when he is putting on my fourth pair of stockings on these poor spindles of mine? The fair one understands love better than I astronomy!' I am sure, without the help of that art, this poor meagre

* See Tatler, No. 1.