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myself; let him remember how awkward I was in my dissembled indifference towards him before company; ask him how I, who could never conceal my love for him, at his own request can part with him for ever? Oh, Mr. Spectator, sensible spirits know no indifference in marriage: what then do you think is my piercing affliction?—I leave you to represent my distress your own way, in which I desire you to be speedy, if you have compassion for innocence exposed to infamy. OCTAVIA.'

stances, I find that the intention of my last Tuesday's paper has been mistaken by many of my readers. I did not design so much to expose vice as idleness, and aimed at those persons who passed away their time rather in trifles and impertinence, than in crimes and immoralities. Offences of this latter kind are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a manner. In short, my journal only holds up folly to the light, and shows the disagreeableness of such actions as are indifferent in themselves, and blameable only as they proceed from creatures endowed with reason.

vered of a daughter, who died within a few hours after her birth. This accident, and the retired manner of life I led, gave criminal hopes to a neighbouring brute of a Country gentleman, whose folly was the source of all my affliction. This rustic is one of those rich clowns who supply the want of all manner of breeding by the neglect of it, and with noisy mirth, half understanding and ample fortune, force themselves upon persons and things, without any sense of time or place. The poor ignorant people where I lay concealed, and now passed for a widow, wondered I could be so shy and strange, as they called it, to the No. 323.] Tuesday, March 11, 1711-12. 'squire; and were bribed by him to admit -Modo vir, modo fœmina. him whenever he thought fit: I happened Virg. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman. to be sitting in a little parlour which belonged to my own part of the house, and THE journal with which I presented my musing over one of the fondest of my hus- reader on Tuesday last has brought me in band's letters, in which I always kept the several letters, with accounts of many pricertificate of my marriage, when this rude vate lives cast into that form. I have the fellow came in, and with the nauseous fami- 'Rake's Journal,' the Sot's Journal,' the liarity of such unbred brutes snatched the Whoremaster's Journal,' and, among sepapers out of my hand. I was immediately veral others, a very curious piece, entitled, under so great a concern, that I threw my-The Journal of a Mohock. By these inself at his feet, and begged of him to return them. He, with the same odious pretence to freedom and gaiety, swore he would read them. I grew more importunate, he more curious, till at last, with an indignation arising from a passion I then first discovered in him, he threw the papers into the fire, swearing that since he was not to read them, the man who writ them should never be so happy as to have me read them over again. It is insignificant to tell you my tears and reproaches made the boisterous calf leave the room ashamed and out of countenance, when I had leisure to ruminate on this accident with more than ordinary sor- My following correspondent, who calls row. However, such was then my confi- herself Clarinda, is such a journalist as I dence in my husband, that I writ to him require. She seems by her letter to be the misfortune, and desired another paper placed in a modish state of indifference beof the same kind. He deferred writing two tween vice and virtue, and to be susceptible or three pests, and at last answered me in of either, were there proper pains taken general, that he could not then send me with her. Had her journal been filled with what I asked for; but when he could find a gallantries, or such occurrences as had proper conveyance, I should be sure to have shown her wholly divested of her natural it. From this time his letters were more innocence, notwithstanding it might have cold every day than other, and, as he grew been more pleasing to the generality of indifferent I grew jealous. This has at last readers, I should not have published it: brought me to town, where I find both the but as it is only the picture of a life filled witnesses of my marriage dead, and that with a fashionable kind of gaiety and lazimy husband, after three month's cohabita-ness, I shall set down five days of it, as I tion, has buried a young lady whom he mar- have received it from the hand of my fair ried in obedience to his father. In a word correspondent. he shuns and disowns me. Should I come to the house and confront him, the father would join in supporting him against me, though he believed my story; should I talk it to the world, what reparation can I expect for an injury I cannot make out? I believe he means to bring me, through necessity, to resign my pretensions to him for some provision for my life; but I will die first. Pray bid him remember what he said, and how he was charmed when he laughed at the heedless discovery I often made of

'DEAR MR. SPECTATOR,-You having set your readers an exercise in one of your last week's papers, I have performed mine according to your orders, and herewith send it you enclosed. You must know, Mr. Spectator, that I am a maiden lady of a good fortune, who have had several matches offered me for these ten years last past, and have at present warm applications made to me by a very pretty fellow.' As I am at my own disposal, I come up to town every winter, and pass my time in it

after the manner you will find in the follow-flowered handkerchief. Worked half a vio ing journal, which I began to write the very let leaf in it. Eyes ached and head out of day after your Spectator upon that subject.' order. Threw by my work, and read over the remaining part of Aurengzebe. TUESDAY night. Could not go to sleep till one in the morning for thinking of my journal.

WEDNESDAY. From eight till ten. Drank two dishes of chocolate in bed, and fell asleep after them.

From ten to eleven. Eat a slice of bread and butter, drank a dish of bohea, and read the Spectator.

From eleven to one. At my toilette; tried a new hood. Gave orders for Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. I look best in blue.

From one till half an hour after two. Drove to the 'Change. Cheapened a couple of fans.

Till four. At dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new liveries.

From four to six. Dressed: paid a visit to old lady Blithe and her sister, having before heard they were gone out of town that day. From six to eleven. At basset. Mem. Never set again upon the ace of diamonds. THURSDAY. From eleven at night to eight in the morning. Dreamed that I punted* to Mr. Froth.

From eight to ten. Chocolate. Read two acts in Aurengzebe a-bed.

From ten to eleven. Tea-table. Sent to borrow lady Faddle's Cupid for Veny. Read the play-bills. Received a letter from Mr. Froth. Mem. Locked it up in my strong box.

From three to four. Dined.

From four to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed, went abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home. Conversation: Mrs. Brilliant's necklace false stones. Old lady Love-day going to be married to a young fellow that is not worth a groat. Miss Prue gone into the country. Tom Townly has red hair. Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my ear, that she had something to tell me about Mr. Froth; I am sure it is not true.

Between twelve and one. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my feet, and called me Indamora.

SATURDAY. Rose at eight o'clock in the morning. Sat down to my toilette.

half an hour before I could determine it. From eight to nine. Shifted a patch for Fixed it above my left eyebrow.

From nine to twelve. Drank my tea, and dressed.

From twelve to two. At chapel. A great deal of good company. Mem. The third air in the new opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully.

From three to four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the opera before I was risen from table.

From dinner to six. Drank tea. Turned off a footman for being rude to Veny.

Six o'clock. Went to the opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the beginning of the Rest of the morning. Fontange, the tire-second act. Mr. Froth talked to a gentlewoman, her account of my lady Blithe's wash. Broke a tooth in my little tortoiseshell comb.

Sent Frank to know how my lady Hectic rested after her monkey's leaping out at window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my glass is not true. Dressed by three.

From three to four. Dinner cold before I sat down,

From four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth's opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. His fancy of a pin-cushion. Picture in the lid of his snuff-box. Old lady Faddle promises me her woman to cut my hair. Lost five guineas at crimp.

Twelve o'clock at night. Went to bed. FRIDAY. Eight in the morning. A-bed. Read over all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Veny.

Ten o'clock. Stayed within all day, not at home.

From ten to twelve. In conference with my mantua-maker. Sorted a suit of ribands. Broke my blue china cup.

From twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber, practised lady Betty Modely's skuttle.f

One in the afternoon. Called for my

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man in a black wig; bowed to a lady in the front box. Mr. Froth and his friend clapped Nicolini in the third act. Mr. Froth cried out Ancora.' Mr. Froth led me to my chair. I think he squeezed my hand.


Eleven at night. Went to bed. Melancholy dreams. Methought Nicolini said he was Mr. Froth.

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I am at leisure. As for Mr. Froth and Veny, I did not think they took up so much of my time and thoughts as I find they do upon my journal. The latter of them I will turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring matters to a conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my life run away in a dream. Your humble servant, CLARINDA.'

To resume one of the morals of my first paper, and to confirm Clarinda in her good inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty figure she would make among posterity, were the history of her whole life published like these five days of it. I shall conclude my paper with an epitaph written by an uncertain author on Sir Philip Sydney's sister, a lady who seems to have been of a temper very much different from that of Clarinda. The last thought of it is so very noble, that I dare say my reader will pardon me the quotation.



Underneath this marble hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Siney's sister. Pembroke's mother:
Death, ere thou hast kill'd another,
Fair and learn'd and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.


required in the members. In order to exert this principle in its full strength and perfection, they take care to drink themselves to a pitch, that is, beyond the possibility of attending to any metions of reason or humanity; then make a general sally, and attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the streets through which they patrole. Some are knocked down, others stabbed, others cut and carbonadood. To put the watch to a total rout, and mortify some of those incffensive militia, is reckenby which these misanthropes are distined a coup d'eclat. The particular talents guished from one another, consist in the various kinds of barbarities which they execute upon the pris ners. Some are celebrated for a happy dexterity in tipping the lion upon them; which is performed by squeezing the nose flat to the face, and bring cut the eyes with their fingers. Others are called the dancing-masters, and teach their scholars to cut capers by running swords through their legs; a new invention, whether originally French I cannot tell. A third sort are the tumblers, whose office is to set women on their heads, and commit certain indecencies, or rather barbarities, on the limbs which they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they cannot but be very shocking to the reader as well as the Spectator. In this manner

No. 324.] Wednesday, March 12, 1711-12. they carry on a war against mankind; and

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by the standing maxims of their policy, are to enter into no alliances but one, and that is offensive and defensive with all bawdyhouses in general, of which they have de clared themselves protectors and guaran tees.

MR. SPECTATOR,-The materials you have collected together towards a general 'I must own, sir, these are only broken, history of clubs, make so bright apart of your incoherent memoirs of this wonderful sospeculations, that I think it is but justice we ciety; but they are the best I have been yet all owe the learned world, to furnish you with able to procure: for, being but of late estasuch assistance as may promote that useful blished, it is not ripe for a just history; and, work. For this reason I could not forbear to be serious, the chief design of this trucommunicating to you some imperfect in- ble is to hinder it from ever being so. You formations of a set of men (if you will allow have been pleased, out of a concern for the them a place in that species of being) who good of your countrymen, to act, under the have lately erected themselves into a noc- character of a Spectator, not only the turnal fraternity, under the title of the part of a locker-cn, but an overseer of their Mohock-club, a name borrowed it seems actions; and whenever such enormities as from a sort of cannibals in India, who this infest the town, we immediately fly to subsist by plundering and devouring all you for redress. I have reason to believe, the nations about them. The president is that some thoughtless youngsters, cut of a styled, Emperor of the Mohocks; and his false notion of bravery, and an immoderate arms are a Turkish crescent, which his im- fondness to be distinguished for fellows of perial majesty bears at present in a very fire, are insensibly hurried into this senseextraordinary manner engraven upon his less, scandalous project. Such will proforehead. Agreeable to their name, the bably stand corrected by your reproofs, avowed design of their institution is mis- especially if you inform them, that it is not chief; and upon this foundation all their courage for half a score fellows, mad with rules and orders are framed. An outrage-wine and lust, to set upon two or three soous ambition of doing all possible hurt to berer than themselves; and that the mantheir fellow-creatures, is the great cementners of Indian savages are not becoming of their assembly, and the only qualification accomplishments to an English fine gentle man. Such of them as have been bullies

The motto prefixed to this paper in folio, is from and scowerers of a long standing, and are


Savis inter se convenit ursis.
Even bears with bears agree.

Town veterans in this kind of service, are,
I fear, too hardened to receive any impres

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No. 325.] Thursday, March 13, 1711-12.

-Quid frustra simulacra fugacia captas?
Quod petis, est nusquam: quod amas avertere, perdes.
Ista repercussæ, quam cernis, imaginis umbra est,
Nil habet ista sui: tecum venitque, manetque;
Tecum discedet; si tu discedere possis.

Ovid. Met. Lib. iii. 432.

[From the fable of Narcissus.]

What could, fond youth, this helpless passion move?
What kindled in thee this unpitied love?

Thy own warm blush within the water glows;
With thee the colour'd shadow comes and goes;
Its empty being on thyself relies :

Step thou aside, and the frail charmer dies.-Addison. WILL HONEYCOMB diverted us last night with an account of a young fellow's first discovering his passion to his mistress. The young lady was one, it seems, who had long before conceived a favourable opinion of him, and was still in hopes that he would

some time or other make his advances. As he was one day talking with her in com

• To her I very much respect, Mrs. Mar-pany of her two sisters, the conversation

garet Clark.

Lovely, and oh that I could write loving, Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray you let affection excuse presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy the sight of your sweet countenance and comely body, sometimes when I had occasion to buy treacle or liquorish powder at the apothecary's shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my flaming desires to become your servant.* And I am the more bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own man, and may match where I please; for my father is taken away, and now I am come to my living, which is ten yard land, and a house; and there is never a yard land, † in our field, but it is as well worth ten pounds a year as a thief is worth a halter, and all my brothers and sisters are provided for: besides, I have good household stuff, though I say it, both brass and pewter, linens and woollens; and though my house be thatched, yet, if you and match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you think well of this motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new clothes are made, and hay harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have good The rest is torn off; and posterity must be contented to know, that Mrs. Margaret Clark was very pretty; but are left in the dark as to the name of her lover.


* A note in Mr. Chalmers's edition of the Spectator informs us, that this letter was really conveyed in the manner here mentioned to a Mrs. Cole, of Northamp ton: the writer was a gentleman of the name of Bullock: -the part torn off is given in the note alluded to as follows: -good matches amongst my neighbours. My mother, peace be with her soul! the good old gen

lewoman, has left me good store of household linen of her own spinning, a chest full. If you and I lay our ineans together, it shall go hard but I will pave the way to do well. Your loving servant till death. Mister Gabriel Bullock, now my father is dead.' See No. 328.* † A yard land (virgata terra) in some counties, contains 20 acres, in some 24, and in others 20 acres of

land-Les Termes de la Ley. Ed. 1667.

happening to turn upon love, each of the young ladies was, by way of raillery, recommending a wife to him; when, to the no small surprise of her who languished for him-in secret, he told them, with a more than ordinary seriousness, that his heart had been long engaged to one whose name he thought himself obliged in honour to conceal; but that he could show her picture in the lid of his snuff-box. The young lady, who found herself most sensibly touched by this confession, took the first opportunity that offered of snatching his box out of his hand. He seemed desirous of recovering it; but finding her resolved to lock into the lid, begged her, that, if she should happen to know the person, she would not reveal her name. Upon carrying it to the window, she was very agreeably surprised to find there was nothing within the lid but a little looking-glass; on which, after she had viewed her own face with more pleasure than she had ever done before, she returned the box with a smile, telling him she could not but admire his choice.

Will, fancying that this story took, immediately fell into a dissertation on the usefulness of looking-glasses; and, applying himself to me, asked if there were any looking-glasses in the times of the Greeks and Romans; for that he had often obseryed, in the translations of poems out of those languages, that people generally talked of seeing themselves in wells, fountains, lakes, and rivers. Nay, says he, I remember Mr. Dryden, in his Ovid, tells us of a swinging fellow, called Polypheme, that made use of the sea for his looking-glass, and could never dress himself to advantage but in a calm.

My friend Will, to show us the whole compass of his learning upon this subject, further informed us, that there were still several nations in the world so very barbarous as not to have any looking-glasses among them; and that he had lately read la voyage to the South Sea, in which it is

said that the ladies of Chili always dressed | No. 325.】 Friday, March 14, 1711-12. their heads over a basin of water.

I am the more particular in my account of Will's last night's lecture on these natural mirrors, as it seems to bear some relation to the following letter, which I received the day before.

'SIR,-I have read your last Saturday's observations on the fourth book of Milton with great satisfaction, and am particularly pleased with the hidden moral which you have taken notice of in several parts of the poem. The design of this letter is to desire your thoughts, whether there may not also be some moral couched under that place in the same book, where the poet lets us know, that the first woman immediately

after her creation ran to a looking-glass, and became so enamoured of her own face, that she had never removed to view any of the other works of nature, had she not been led off to a man? If you think fit to set down the whole passage from Milton, your readers will be able to judge for themselves, and the quotation will not a little contribute to the filling up of your paper. Your hum

ble servant,

R. T.'

The last consideration urged by my querist is so strong, that I cannct forbear closing with it. The passage he alludes to is part of Eve's speech to Adam, and one of the most beautiful passages in the whole poem:

That day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd
Under a shade of flowers, much wond ring where
And what I was, whence hither brought, and how.
Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread
Into a liquid plain, and stood unmov'd
Pure as the expanse of heaven: I thither went
With unexperienc'd thought, and laid me down
On the green bank, to look into the clear
Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite,
A shape within the watery gleam appear'd,
Bending to look on me; I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon return'd,
Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering looks
Of sympathy and love: there I had fix'd
Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire,
Had not a voice thus warn'd me: "What thou seest,
What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself;
With thee it came and goes; but follow me,
And I will bring thee where no shadow stays
Thy coming and thy soft embraces; he
Whose image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy,
Inseparably thine; to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd
Mother of human race." What could I do,
But follow straight, invisibly thus led?
Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a plantain; yet, methought, less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,

Than that smooth watery image: back I turn'd:
Thon following cry dst aloud, "Return, fair Eve!

Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea.
Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum
Tristes excubie munierant satis
Nocturnis ab adulteris:
Si non-

Hor. Lib. iii. Od. xvi. L.

Of watchful dogs an odious ward
Right well one hapless virgin guard,
When in a tower of brass immurd,
By mighty bars of steel secur'd.
Although by mortal rake-hells lewd
With a their midnight arts pursa'd.
Had not-

Francis, vol. ii. p. 77.


Be to her faults a little blind,
Be to her virtues very kind,
And clap your padlock on her mind.-Pediak

MR. SPECTATOR,-Your correspondent's letter relating to fortune-hunters, and your subsequent discourse upon it, have given me encouragement to send you a state of my case, by which you will see, that the matter complained of is a common grievance both to city and country.

I am a country-gentleman of between five and six thousand a year. It is my misfortune to have a very fine park and an only daughter; upon which account I have been so plagued with deer-stealers and fops, that for these four years past I have scarce enjoyed a moment's rest. I look upon myself to be in a state of war; and am forced to keep as constant watch in my seat, as a governor would do that commanded a town on the frontier of an enemy's country. I have indeed pretty well secured my park, having for this purpose provided myself of four keepers, who are left-handed, and handle a quarter-staff beyond any other fellows in the country. And for the guard of my house, besides a band of pensioner matrons and an old maiden relation whom I keep on constant duty, I have blunderbusses always charged, and fox-gins planted in private places about my garden, of which I have given frequent notice in the neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of all my care, I shall every now and then have a saucy rascal ride by, reconnoitering (as I think you call it) under my windows, as sprucely dressed as if he were going to a ball. I am aware of this way of attacking a mistress on horseback, having heard that it is a common practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my daughter from the road-side of the house, and to lodge her next the garden. But to cut short my story: What can a man do after all? I durst not stand for member of parliament last election, for fear of some ill consequence from my being off my post. What I would therefore desire of you is, to pro

Whom fly'st thou ? Whom thou fly'st, of him thou art, mote a project I have set on foot, and upon

His flesh, his bone; to give thee being. I leat

Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart,
Substantial life, to have thee by my side,
Henceforth an individual solace dear:
Part of my soul, I seek thee, and thee claim,
My other half-With that thy gentle hand
Seiz'd mine; I yielded, and from that time see
How beauty is excell'd by manly grace
And wisdom, which alone is truly fair."
So spake our general mother-


which I have written to some of my friends: and that is, that care may be taken to secure our daughters by law, as well as our deer; and that some honest gentleman, of a public spirit, would move for leave to bring in a bill for the better preserving of the female game. I am, sir, your humble servant.'

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