As I was Yesterday riding out in the Fields with my Friend Sir
Roger
, we
saw at a little Distance from us a Troop of Gypsies. Upon the first
Discovery of them, my Friend was in some doubt whether he should not
exert the Justice of the Peace upon such a Band of Lawless Vagrants; but
not having his Clerk with him, who is a necessary Counsellor on these
Occasions, and fearing that his Poultry might fare the worse for it, he
let the Thought drop: But at the same time gave me a particular Account
of the Mischiefs they do in the Country, in stealing People's Goods and
spoiling their Servants.
If a stray Piece of Linnen hangs upon an Hedge,
says Sir
Roger, they are sure to have it; if the Hog loses his Way in
the Fields, it is ten to one but he becomes their Prey; our Geese cannot
live in Peace for them; if a Man prosecutes them with Severity, his
Hen-roost is sure to pay for it: They generally straggle into these
Parts about this Time of the Year; and set the Heads of our
Servant-Maids so agog for Husbands, that we do not expect to have any
Business done as it should be whilst they are in the Country.
I have an
honest Dairy-maid
who1 crosses their Hands with a Piece of Silver
every Summer, and never fails being promised the handsomest young Fellow
in the Parish for her pains. Your Friend the Butler has been Fool enough
to be seduced by them; and, though he is sure to lose a Knife, a Fork,
or a Spoon every time his Fortune is told him, generally shuts himself
up in the Pantry with an old Gypsie for above half an Hour once in a
Twelvemonth. Sweet-hearts are the things they live upon, which they
bestow very plentifully upon all those that apply themselves to them.
You see now and then some handsome young Jades among them: The Sluts
have very often white Teeth and black Eyes.
Sir
Roger
observing that I listned with great Attention to his Account
of a People who were so entirely new to me, told me, That if I would
they should tell us our Fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the
Knight's Proposal, we rid up and communicated our Hands to them. A
Cassandra
of the Crew, after having examined my Lines very diligently,
told me, That I loved a pretty Maid in a Corner, that I was a good
Woman's Man, with some other Particulars which I do not think proper to
relate.
Friend Sir
Roger
alighted from his Horse, and exposing his
Palm to two or three that stood by him, they crumpled it into all
Shapes, and diligently scanned every Wrinkle that could be made in it;
when one of them,
who
was older and more Sun-burnt than the rest,
told him, That he had a Widow in his Line of Life: Upon which the Knight
cried, Go, go, you are an idle Baggage; and at the same time smiled upon
me. The Gypsie finding he was not displeased in his Heart, told him,
after a farther Enquiry into his Hand, that his True-love was constant,
and that she should dream of him to-night: My old Friend cried Pish, and
bid her go on. The Gypsie told him that he was a Batchelour, but would
not be so long; and that he was dearer to some Body than he thought: The
Knight still repeated, She was an idle Baggage, and bid her go on. Ah
Master, says the Gypsie, that roguish Leer of yours makes a pretty
Woman's Heart ake; you ha'n't that Simper about the Mouth for
Nothing — The uncouth Gibberish with which all this was uttered like the
Darkness of an Oracle, made us the more attentive to it. To be short,
the Knight left the Money with her that he had crossed her Hand with,
and got up again on his Horse.
As we were riding away, Sir
Roger
told me, that he knew several sensible
People who believed these Gypsies now and then foretold very strange
things; and for half an Hour together appeared more jocund than
ordinary. In the Height of his good-Humour, meeting a common Beggar upon
the Road who was no Conjurer, as he went to relieve him he found his
Pocket was picked: That being a Kind of Palmistry at which this Race of
Vermin are very dextrous.
might here entertain my Reader with Historical Remarks on this idle
profligate People,
who
infest all the Countries of
Europe
, and
live in the midst of Governments in a kind of Commonwealth by
themselves.
instead of entering into Observations of this Nature, I
shall fill the remaining Part of my Paper with a Story
which
is
still fresh in
Holland
, and was printed in one of our Monthly Accounts
about twenty Years ago.
'
As the
Trekschuyt, or Hackney-boat, which
carries Passengers from
Leyden to
Amsterdam, was putting off, a Boy
running along the
side5 of the Canal desired to be taken in; which
the Master of the Boat refused, because the Lad had not quite Money
enough to pay the usual Fare.
An eminent Merchant being pleased with the
Looks of the Boy, and secretly touched with Compassion towards him, paid
the Money for him
6, and ordered him to be taken on board. Upon
talking with him afterwards, he found that he could speak readily in
three or four Languages, and learned upon farther Examination that he
had been stoln away when he was a Child by a Gypsie, and had rambled
ever since with a Gang of those Strollers up and down several Parts of
Europe. It happened that the Merchant, whose Heart seems to have
inclined towards the Boy by a secret kind of Instinct, had himself lost
a Child some Years before. The Parents, after a long Search for him,
gave him for drowned in one of the Canals with which that Country
abounds; and the Mother was so afflicted at the Loss of a fine Boy, who
was her only Son, that she died for Grief of it.
Upon laying together
all Particulars, and examining the several Moles and Marks
by which
the Mother used to describe the Child
when7 he was first missing,
the Boy proved to be the Son of the Merchant whose Heart had so
unaccountably melted at the Sight of him.
The Lad was very well pleased
to find a Father
who8 was so rich, and likely to leave him a good
Estate; the Father on the other hand was not a little delighted to see a
Son return to him, whom he had given for lost, with such a Strength of
Constitution, Sharpness of Understanding, and Skill in Languages.'
Here
the printed Story leaves off; but if I may give credit to Reports, our
Linguist having received such extraordinary Rudiments towards a good
Education, was afterwards trained up in every thing that becomes a
Gentleman; wearing off by little and little all the vicious Habits and
Practises that he had been used to in the Course of his Peregrinations:
, it is said, that he has since been employed in foreign Courts upon
National Business, with great Reputation to himself and Honour to
those
who sent him
, and that he has visited several Countries as a
publick Minister, in which he formerly wander'd as a Gypsie.
C.
that
that
that
that
Sides
About three pence.
by when
that
his Country
Contents
|
Tuesday, July 31, 1711 |
Addison |
It is usual for a Man who loves Country Sports to preserve the Game in
his own Grounds, and divert himself upon those that belong to his
Neighbour.
Friend Sir
Roger
generally goes two or three Miles from
his House, and gets into the Frontiers of his Estate, before he beats
about in search of
a
Hare or Partridge, on purpose to spare his
own Fields, where he is always sure of finding Diversion, when the worst
comes to the worst. By this Means the Breed about his House has time to
encrease and multiply, besides that the Sport is the more agreeable
where the Game is the harder to come at, and
where it
does not lie so
thick as to produce any Perplexity or Confusion in the Pursuit. For
these Reasons the Country Gentleman, like the Fox, seldom preys near his
own Home.
In the same manner I have made a Month's Excursion out of the Town,
which is the great Field of Game for Sportsmen of my Species, to try my
Fortune in the Country, where I have started several Subjects, and
hunted them down, with some Pleasure to my self, and I hope to others. I
am here forced to use a great deal of Diligence before I can spring any
thing to my Mind, whereas in Town, whilst I am following one Character,
it is ten to one but I am crossed in my Way by another, and put up such
a Variety of odd Creatures in both Sexes, that they foil the Scent of
one another, and puzzle the Chace. My greatest Difficulty in the Country
is to find Sport, and in Town to chuse it. In the mean time, as I have
given a whole Month's Rest to the Cities of
London
and
Westminster
,
I promise my self abundance of new Game upon my return thither.
It is indeed high time for me to leave the Country, since I find the
whole Neighbourhood begin to grow very inquisitive after my Name and
Character. My Love of Solitude, Taciturnity, and particular way of Life,
having raised a great Curiosity in all these Parts.
The Notions which have been framed of me are various; some look upon me
as very proud,
some as very modest,
and some as very melancholy.
Will. Wimble
, as my Friend the Butler tells me, observing me very much
alone, and extreamly silent when I am in Company, is afraid I have
killed a Man. The Country People seem to suspect me for a Conjurer; and
some of them hearing of the Visit
which
I made to
Moll White
,
will needs have it that Sir
Roger
has brought down a Cunning Man with
him, to cure the old Woman, and free the Country from her Charms. So
that the Character which I go under in part of the Neighbourhood, is
what they here call a
White Witch
.
A Justice of Peace, who lives about five Miles off, and is not of Sir
Roger's
Party, has it seems said twice or thrice at his Table, that he
wishes Sir
Roger
does not harbour a Jesuit in his House, and that he
thinks the Gentlemen of the Country would do very well to make me give
some Account of my self.
On the other side, some of Sir
Roger's
Friends are afraid the old Knight
is impos'd upon by a designing Fellow, and as they have heard that he
converses very promiscuously when he is in Town, do not know but he has
brought down with him some discarded Whig, that is sullen, and says
nothing, because he is out of Place.
is the Variety of Opinions
which
are here entertained of me,
so that I pass among some for a disaffected Person, and among others for
a Popish Priest; among some for a Wizard, and among others for a
Murderer; and all this for no other Reason, that I can imagine, but
because I do not hoot and hollow and make a Noise. It is true my Friend
Sir
Roger
tells them,
That it is my way
, and that I am only a
Philosopher; but
this
will not satisfy them. They think there is
more in me than he discovers, and that I do not hold my Tongue for
nothing.
For these and other Reasons I shall set out for
London
to Morrow,
having found by Experience that the Country is not a Place for a Person
of my Temper, who does not love Jollity, and what they call
Good-Neighbourhood. A Man that is out of Humour when an unexpected Guest
breaks in upon him, and does not care for sacrificing an Afternoon to
every Chance-comer; that will be the Master of his own Time, and the
Pursuer of his own Inclinations makes but a very unsociable Figure in
this kind of Life. I shall therefore retire into the Town, if I may make
use of that Phrase, and get into the Crowd again as fast as I can, in
order to be alone. I can there raise what Speculations I please upon
others without being observed my self, and at the same time enjoy all
the Advantages of Company with all the Privileges of Solitude. In the
mean while, to finish the Month and conclude these my rural
Speculations, I shall here insert a Letter from my Friend
Will.
Honeycomb
, who has not lived a Month for these forty Years out of the
Smoke of
London
, and rallies me after his way upon my Country Life.
Dear Spec,
'I Suppose this Letter will find thee picking of Daisies, or smelling
to a Lock of Hay, or passing away thy time in some innocent Country
Diversion of the like Nature. I have however Orders from the Club to
summon thee up to Town, being all of us cursedly afraid thou wilt not
be able to relish our Company, after thy Conversations with Moll
White and Will. Wimble. Pr'ythee don't send us up any more Stories
of a Cock and a Bull, nor frighten the Town with Spirits and Witches.
Thy Speculations begin to smell confoundedly of Woods and Meadows. If
thou dost not come up quickly, we shall conclude that thou art in
Love with one of Sir Roger's Dairy-maids. Service to the Knight. Sir
Andrew is grown the Cock of the Club since he left us, and if he does
not return quickly will make every Mother's Son of us Commonwealth's
Men.
Dear Spec,
Thine Eternally,
Will. Honeycomb.
C.
an
that
Contents
|
Wednesday, August 1, 1711 |
Steel |
... Qui aut Tempus quid postulet non videt, aut plura loquitur, aut se
ostentat, aut eorum quibuscum est rationem non habet, is ineptus esse
dicitur.
Tull.
translation
Having notified to my good Friend Sir
Roger
that I should set out for
London
the next Day, his Horses were ready at the appointed Hour in
the Evening; and attended by one of his Grooms, I arrived at the
County-Town at twilight, in order to be ready for the Stage-Coach the
Day following. As soon as we arrived at the Inn, the Servant who waited
upon me, inquir'd of the Chamberlain in my Hearing what Company he had
for the Coach?
Fellow answered, Mrs.
Betty Arable
, the great
Fortune, and the Widow her Mother; a recruiting Officer (who took a
Place because they were to go;) young Squire
Quickset
her Cousin
(that her Mother wished her to be married to;)
Ephraim
the Quaker
her Guardian; and a Gentleman that had studied himself dumb from Sir
Roger De Coverley's
. I observed by what he said of my self, that
according to his Office he dealt much in Intelligence; and doubted not
but there was some Foundation for his Reports of the rest of the
Company, as well as for the whimsical Account he gave of me. The next
Morning at Day-break we were all called; and I, who know my own natural
Shyness, and endeavour to be as little liable to be disputed with as
possible, dressed immediately, that I might make no one wait. The first
Preparation for our Setting-out was, that the Captain's Half-Pike was
placed near the Coach-man, and a Drum behind the Coach. In the mean Time
the Drummer, the Captain's Equipage, was very loud, that none of the
Captain's things should be placed so as to be spoiled; upon which his
Cloake-bag was fixed in the Seat of the Coach: And the Captain himself,
according to a frequent, tho' invidious Behaviour of Military Men,
ordered his Man to look sharp, that none but one of the Ladies should
have the Place he had taken fronting to the Coach-box.
We were in some little Time fixed in our Seats, and sat with that
Dislike which People not too good-natured usually conceive of each other
at first Sight. The Coach jumbled us insensibly into some sort of
Familiarity: and we had not moved above two Miles, when the Widow asked
the Captain what Success he had in his Recruiting? The Officer, with a
Frankness he believed very graceful, told her,
'That indeed he had but very little Luck, and had suffered much by
Desertion, therefore should be glad to end his Warfare in the Service
of her or her fair Daughter. In a Word, continued he, I am a Soldier,
and to be plain is my Character: You see me, Madam, young, sound, and
impudent; take me your self, Widow, or give me to her, I will be
wholly at your Disposal. I am a Soldier of Fortune, ha!'
This was followed by a vain Laugh of his own, and a deep Silence of all
the rest of the Company. I had nothing left for it but to fall fast
asleep, which I did with all Speed.
'Come, said he, resolve upon it, we will make a Wedding at the next
Town: We will wake this pleasant Companion who is fallen asleep, to be
the Brideman, and' (giving the Quaker a Clap on the Knee) he
concluded, 'This sly Saint, who, I'll warrant, understands what's what
as well as you or I, Widow, shall give the Bride as Father.'
The Quaker, who happened to be a Man of Smartness, answered,
'Friend, I take it in good Part that thou hast given me the Authority
of a Father over this comely and virtuous Child; and I must assure
thee, that if I have the giving her, I shall not bestow her on thee.
Thy Mirth, Friend, savoureth of Folly: Thou art a Person of a light
Mind; thy Drum is a Type of thee, it soundeth because it is empty.
Verily, it is not from thy Fullness, but thy Emptiness that thou hast
spoken this Day. Friend, Friend, we have hired this Coach in
Partnership with thee, to carry us to the great City; we cannot go any
other Way. This worthy Mother must hear thee if thou wilt needs utter
thy Follies; we cannot help it, Friend, I say: if thou wilt we must
hear thee: But if thou wert a Man of Understanding, thou wouldst not
take Advantage of thy courageous Countenance to abash us Children of
Peace. Thou art, thou sayest, a Soldier; give Quarter to us, who
cannot resist thee.
Why didst thou fleer at our Friend, who feigned
himself asleep? he
said2 nothing: but how dost thou know what he
containeth? If thou speakest improper things in the hearing of this
virtuous young Virgin, consider it is an Outrage against a distressed
Person that cannot get from thee: To speak indiscreetly what we are
obliged to hear, by being hasped up with thee in this publick Vehicle,
is in some Degree assaulting on the high Road.'
Here
Ephraim
paused, and the Captain with an happy and uncommon
Impudence (which can be convicted and support it self at the same time)
cries,
'
Faith, Friend, I thank thee; I should have been a little impertinent
if thou hadst not reprimanded me. Come, thou art, I see, a smoaky old
Fellow, and I'll be very orderly the ensuing Part of the Journey. I
was
going3 to give my self Airs, but, Ladies, I beg Pardon.'
The Captain was so little out of Humour, and our Company was so far from
being sowered by this little Ruffle, that
Ephraim
and he took a
particular Delight in being agreeable to each other for the future; and
assumed their different Provinces in the Conduct of the Company. Our
Reckonings, Apartments, and Accommodation, fell under
Ephraim:
and the Captain looked to all Disputes on the Road, as the good
Behaviour of our Coachman, and the Right we had of taking Place as going
to
London
of all Vehicles coming from thence. The Occurrences we
met with were ordinary, and very little happened which could entertain
by the Relation of them: But when I consider'd the Company we were in, I
took it for no small good Fortune that the whole Journey was not spent
in Impertinences, which to one Part of us might be an Entertainment, to
the other a Suffering.
What therefore
Ephraim
said when we were almost arriv'd at
London
, had to me an Air not only of good Understanding but good
Breeding. Upon the young Lady's expressing her Satisfaction in the
Journey, and declaring how delightful it had been to her,
Ephraim
declared himself as follows:
'There is no ordinary Part of humane Life which expresseth so much a
good Mind, and a right inward Man, as his Behaviour upon meeting with
Strangers, especially such as may seem the most unsuitable Companions
to him: Such a Man, when he falleth in the way with Persons of
Simplicity and Innocence, however knowing he may be in the Ways of
Men, will not vaunt himself thereof; but will the rather hide his
Superiority to them, that he may not be painful unto them.
My good Friend, (continued he, turning to the Officer) thee and I are
to part by and by, and peradventure we may never meet again: But be
advised by a plain Man; Modes and Apparel are but Trifles to the real
Man, therefore do not think such a Man as thy self terrible for thy
Garb, nor such a one as me contemptible for mine.
When two such as thee and I meet, with Affections as we ought to have
towards each other, thou should'st rejoice to see my peaceable
Demeanour, and I should be glad to see thy Strength and Ability to
protect me in it.'
The man who would not fight received the name of Ephraim
from the 9th verse of
Psalm
lxxviii, which says:
'The children of Ephraim, being armed and carrying bows, turned back
in the day of battle.'
sayeth
a going
Contents
|
Thursday, August 2, 1711 |
Steele |
Quis Desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Tam Chari capitis?
Hor.
translation
There is a sort of Delight, which is alternately mixed with Terror and
Sorrow, in the Contemplation of Death. The Soul has its Curiosity more
than ordinarily awakened, when it turns its Thoughts upon the Conduct of
such who have behaved themselves with an Equal, a Resigned, a Chearful,
a Generous or Heroick Temper in that Extremity.