There is my dear lord No-where, of all men the most gracious and most obliging, the terror of valets de chambre, whom he oppresses with good breeding, by inquiring for my good lord, and for my good lady's health. This inimitable courtier will whisper a privy counsellor's lacquey with the utmost goodness and condescension, to know when they next sit; and is thoroughly taken up, and thinks he has a part in a secret, if he knows that there is a secret. "What it is,' he will whisper you, that time will discover;' then he shrugs, and calls you back again- Sir, I need not say to you, that these things are not to be spoken of—and, harkye, no names, I would not be quoted.' What adds to the jest is, that his emptiness has its moods and seasons, and he will not condescend to let you into these his discoveries, except he is in very good humour, or has seen somebody of fashion talk to you. He will keep his nothing to himself, and pass by and overlook as well as the best of them; not observing that he is insolent when he is gracious, and obliging when he is haughty. Shew me a woman so inconsiderable as this frequent character. But my mind, now I am in, turns to many no less observable. Thou dear Will Shoestring 3! I profess myself in love with thee how shall I speak thee? how shall I address thee? how shall I draw thee? thou dear outside! Will you be combing your wigt, playing with your box, or picking your teeth? or choosest thou rather to be speaking; to be speaking Sir William Whitelocke, knt. M. P. for Oxford. 4 Combing the peruke, when large wigs were in fashion, was an act of gallantry even on visits of ceremony or business, in the presence of the ladies, and at public places. for thy only purpose in speaking, to shew your teeth? Rub them no longer, dear Shoestring: do not premeditate murder: do not for ever whiten. Oh! that, for my quiet and his own, they were rotten! But I will forget him, and give my hand to the courteous Umbra. He is a fine man indeed, but the soft creature bows below my apron-string, before he takes it; yet, after the first ceremonies, he is as familiar as my physician, and his insignificancy makes me half ready to complain to him of all I would to my doctor. He is so courteous, that he carries half the messages of ladies ails in town to their midwives and nurses. He understands too the art of medicine as far as to the cure of a pimple, or a rash. On occasions of the like importance, he is the most assiduous of all men living, in consulting and searching precedents from family to family; then he speaks of his obsequiousness and diligence in the style of real services. If you sneer at him, and thank him for his great friendship, he bows, and says, 'Madam, all the good offices in my power, while I have any knowledge or credit, shall be at your service.' The consideration of so shallow a being, and the intent application with which he pursues trifles, has made me carefully reflect upon that sort of men we usually call an impertinent:' and I am, upon mature deliberation, so far from being offended with him, that I am really obliged to him; for though he will take you aside, and talk half an hour to you upon matters wholly insignificant with the most solemn air, yet I consider, that these things are of weight in his imagination, and he thinks he is communicating what is for my service. If, therefore, it be a just rule, to judge of a man by his intention, according to the equity of good breeding, he that is impertinently kind or wise, to do you service, ought in return to have a proportionable place both in your affection and esteem; so that the courteous Umbra deserves the favour of all his acquaintance; for, though he never served them, he is ever willing to do it, and believes he does it. As impotent kindness is to be returned with all our abilities to oblige; so impotent malice is to be treated with all our force to depress it. For this reason, Fly-blow (who is received in all the families in town, through the degeneracy and iniquity of their manners) is to be treated like a knave, though he is one of the weakest of fools: he has by rote, and at second-hand, all that can be said of any man of figure, wit, and virtue, in town. Name a man of worth, and this creature tells you the worst passage of his life. Speak of a beautiful woman, and this puppy will whisper the next man to him, though he has nothing to say of her. He is a fly that feeds on the sore part, and would have nothing to live on, if the whole body were in health. You may know him by the frequency of pronouncing the particle but; for which reason I never heard him spoke of with common charity, without using my but against him: for a friend of mine saying the other day, 'Mrs. Distaff has wit, good-humour, virtue, and friendship;' this oaf added, But she is not handsome.'-' Coxcomb! the gentleman was saying what I was, not what I was not.' Mrs. Distaff hath received the dialogue dated Monday evening, which she has sent forward to Mr. Bickerstaff at Maidenhead: and in the mean time gives her service to the parties.' N. B. It is to be noted, that when any part of this paper appears dull, there is a design in it.' STEELE. N° 39. SATURDAY, JULY 9, 1709. Quicquid agunt homines nostri est farrago libelli. JUV. Sat. i. 85, 86. Whatever good is done, whatever ill- BY ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, ESQUIRE. Grecian Coffee-house, July 7. As I am called forth by the immense love I bear to my fellow-creatures, and the warm inclination I feel within me, to stem, as far as I can, the prevailing tor rent of vice and ignorance; so I cannot more properly pursue that noble impulse, than by setting forth the excellence of virtue and knowledge in their native and beautiful colours. For this reason, I made my late excursion to Oxford, where those qualities appear in their highest lustre, and are the only pretences to honour and distinction. Superiority is there given in proportion to men's advancement in wisdom and learning; and that just rule of life is so universally received among those happy people, that you shall see an earl walk bare-headed to the son of the meanest artificer, in respect to seven years more worth and knowledge than the nobleman is possessed of. In other places they bow to men's fortunes, but here to their understandings. It is not to be expressed, how pleasing the order, the discipline, the regularity of their lives, is to a philosopher, who has, by many years experience in the world, learned to contemn every thing but what is revered in this mansion of select and well-taught spirits. The magnificence of their palaces, the greatness of their revenues, the sweetness of their groves and retirements, seem equally adapted for the residence of princes and philoso phers; and a familiarity with objects of splendour, as well as places of recess, prepares the inhabitants with an equanimity for their future fortunes whether humble or illustrious. How was I pleased when L looked round at St. Mary's, and could, in the faces of the ingenuous youth, see ministers of state, chancellors, bishops, and judges. Here only is human life! Here only the life of man is that of a rational being! Here men understand and are employed in works worthy their noble nature. This transitory being passes away in an employment not unworthy a future state, the contemplation of the great decrees of providence. Each man lives as if he were to answer the questions made to Job, 'Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who shut up the sea with doors, and said, Hitherto thou shalt come, and no farther?' Such speculations make life agreeable, and death welcome. But, alas! I was torn from this noble society by the business of this dirty mean world, and the cares of fortune: for I was obliged to be in London against the seventh day of the term, and accordingly governed myself by my Oxford almanack', and came last night; but find, to my great astonishment, that this ignorant town began the term on the twenty-fourth of the last month, in opposition to all the learning and astronomy of the famous university of which I A humorous allusion to the difference between the university terms and the law terms. See N° 43. |