Title: The Prose Works of Jonathan Swift, D.D. — Volume 09
Author: Jonathan Swift
Editor: Temple Scott
Release date: August 13, 2004 [eBook #13169]
Most recently updated: October 28, 2024
Language: English
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CONTENTS
CONTRIBUTIONS TO "THE TATLER."
CONTRIBUTIONS TO "THE EXAMINER."
CONTRIBUTION TO "THE SPECTATOR."
CONTRIBUTIONS TO "THE INTELLIGENCER."
THE INTELLIGENCER, NUMB. 1.[1]
THE INTELLIGENCER, NUMB. III.[1]
THE INTELLIGENCER, NUMB. XIX[1].
Swift has been styled the Prince of Journalists. Like most titles whose aim is to express in modern words the character and achievements of a man of a past age, this phrase is not of the happiest. Applied to so extraordinary a man as Jonathan Swift, it is both misleading and inadequate. At best it embodies but a half-truth. It belongs to that class of phrases which, in emphasizing a particular side of the character, sacrifices truth to a superficial cleverness, and so does injustice to the character as a whole. The vogue such phrases obtain is thus the measure of the misunderstanding that is current; so that it often becomes necessary to receive them with caution and to test them with care.
A prince in his art Swift certainly was, but his art was not the art of the journalist. Swift was a master of literary expression, and of all forms of that expression which aim at embodying in language the common life and common facts of men and their common nature. He had his limitations, of course; but just here lies the power of his special genius. He never attempted to express what he did not fully comprehend. If he saw things narrowly, he saw them definitely, and there was no mistaking the ideas he wished to convey. "He understands himself," said Dr. Johnson, "and his reader always understands him." Within his limitations Swift swayed a sovereign power. His narrowness of vision, however, did never blind him to the relations that exist between fact and fact, between object and subject, between the actual and the possible. At the same time it was not his province, as it was not his nature, to handle such relations in the abstract. The bent of his mind was towards the practical and not the pure reason. The moralist and the statesman went hand in hand in him—an excellent example of the eighteenth century thinker.
But to say this of Swift is not to say that he was a journalist. The journalist is the man of the hour writing for the hour in harmony with popular opinion. Both his text and his heads are ready-made for him. He follows the beaten road, and only essays new paths when conditions have become such as to force him along them. Such a man Swift certainly was not. Journalism was not his way to the goal. If anything, it was, as Epictetus might have said, but a tavern by the way-side in which he took occasion to find the means by which the better to attain his goal. If Swift's contributions to the literature of his day be journalism, then did journalism spring full-grown into being, and its history since his time must be considered as a history of its degeneration. But they were much more than journalism. That they took the form they did, in contributions to the periodicals of his day, is but an accident which does not in the least affect the contributions themselves. These, in reality, constitute a criticism of the social and political life of the first thirty years of the English eighteenth century. From the time of the writing of "A Tale of a Tub" to the days of the Drapier's Letters, Swift dissected his countrymen with the pitiless hand of the master-surgeon. So profound was his knowledge of human anatomy, individual and social, that we shudder now at the pain he must have inflicted in his unsparing operations. So accurate was his judgment that we stand amazed at his knowledge, and our amazement often turns to a species of horror as we see the cuticle flapped open revealing the crude arrangement beneath. Nor is it to argue too nicely, to suggest that our present sympathy for the past pain, our amazement, and our horror, are, after all, our own unconscious tributes to the power of the man who calls them up, and our confession of the lasting validity of his criticism.
This is not the power nor is it the kind of criticism that are the elements of the art of the journalist. Perhaps we should be glad that it is not; which is but to say that we are content with things as they exist. It requires a special set of conditions to precipitate a Swift. Happily, if we will have it so, the conditions in which we find ourselves ask for that kind of journalist whose function is amply fulfilled when he has measured the movements of the hour by the somewhat higher standards of the day. The conditions under which Swift lived demanded a journalist of an entirely different calibre; and they got him. They obtained a man who dissolved the petty jealousies of party power in the acid of satire, and who distilled the affected fears for Church and State in the alembic of a statesmanship that establishes a nation's majesty and dignity on the common welfare of its free people. When Swift, at the beginning of the November of 1710, was called in to assist the Tory party by undertaking the work of "The Examiner," he found a condition of things so involved and so unstable, that it required the very nicest appreciation, the most delicate handling, and the boldest of hearts to readjust and re-establish, without fearful consequences. Harley and St. John were safely housed, and, apparently, amply protected by a substantial majority. But majorities are often not the most trustworthy of supports. Apart from the over-confidence which they inspire, and apart from the danger of a too-enthusiastic following, such as found expression in the October Club, there was the danger which might come from the dissatisfaction of the people at large, should their temper be wrongly gauged; and at this juncture it was not easy to gauge. The popularity of Marlborough and his victories, on the one hand, was undoubted. On the other, however, there was the growing opinion that those victories had been paid for at a price greater than England could afford. If she had gained reputation and prestige, these could not fill the mouths of the landed class, gradually growing poorer, and the members of this class were not of a disposition to restrain their feelings as they noted the growing prosperity of the Whig stock-jobbers—a prosperity that was due to the very war which was beggaring them. If the landed man cried for peace, he was answered by the Whig stock-jobber that peace meant the ultimate repudiation of the National Debt, with the certainty of the reign of the Pretender. If the landed man spoke for the Church, the Whig speculator raised the shout of "No Popery!" The war had transformed parties into factions, and the ministry stood between a Scylla of a peace-at-any-price, on the one side, and a Charybdis of a war-at-any-price on the other; or, if not a war, then a peace so one-sided that it would be almost impossible to bring it about.
In such troubled waters, and at such a critical juncture, it was given to Swift to act as pilot to the ship of State. His papers to "The Examiner" must bear witness to the skill with which he accomplished the task set before him. His appeal to the people of England for confidence in the ministry, should be an appeal not alone on behalf of its distinguished and able members, but also on behalf of a policy by which "the crooked should be made straight and the rough places plain." Such was to be the nature of his appeal, and he made it in a series of essays that turned every advantage with admirable effect to the side of his clients. Not another man then living could have done what he did; and we question if either Harley or St. John ever realized the service he rendered them. The later careers of these two men furnish no doubtful hints of what might have happened at this period had Swift been other than the man he was.
But Swift's "Examiners" did much more than preserve Harley's head on his shoulders; they brought the nation to a calmer sense of its position, and tutored it to a juster appreciation of the men who were using it for selfish ends. Let us make every allowance for purely special pleadings; for indulgence in personal feeling against the men who had either disappointed, injured, or angered him; for the party man affecting or genuinely feeling party bitterness, for the tricks and subterfuges of the paid advocate appealing to the passions and weaknesses of those whose favour he was seeking to win; allowing for these, there are yet left in these papers a noble spirit of wide-eyed patriotism, and a distinguished grasp of the meaning of national greatness and national integrity.
The pamphleteers whom he opposed, and who opposed him, were powerless against Swift. Where they pried with the curiosity and meanness of petty dealers, Swift's insight seized on the larger relations, and insisted on them. Where they "bantered," cajoled, and sneered, arousing a very mild irritation, Swift's scornful invective, and biting satire silenced into fear the enemies of the Queen's chosen ministers. Where their jejune "answers" gained a simper, Swift's virility of mind, range of power, and dexterity of handling, compelled a homage. His Whig antagonists had good reason to dread him. He scoffed at them for an existence that was founded, not on a devotion to principles, but on a jealousy for the power others enjoyed. "The bulk of the Whigs appears rather to be linked to a certain set of persons, than any certain set of principles." To these persons also he directed his grim attention, Somers, Cowper, Godolphin, Marlborough, and Wharton were each drawn with iron stylus and acid. To Wharton he gave special care (he had some private scores to pay off), and in the character of Verres, he etched the portrait of a profligate, an unscrupulous governor, a scoundrel, an infidel to his religion and country, a reckless, selfish, low-living blackguard. In the Letter to Marcus Crassus, Marlborough is addressed in language that the simplest farm-labourer could understand. The letter is a lay sermon on the vice of avarice, and every point and illustration are taken from Marlborough's life with such telling application that Marlborough himself must have taken thought as he read it. "No man," Swift finely concludes, "of true valour and true understanding, upon whom this vice has stolen unawares; when he is convinced he is guilty, will suffer it to remain in his breast an hour."
But these attentions to the Whigs as a party and as individuals were, after all, but the by-play of the skilled orator preparing the minds of his hearers for the true purpose in hand. That purpose may originally have been to fix the ministry in the country's favour; but Swift having fulfilled it, and so discharged his office, turned it, as indeed he could not help turning it, and as later in the Drapier's Letters he turned another purpose, to the persuasion of an acceptance of those broad principles which so influenced political thought during the last years of the reign of Queen Anne. It is with these principles in his mind that Dr. Johnson confessed that Swift "dictated for a time the political opinions of the English nation." He recalled the nation to a consideration of the Constitution; he attributed to the people (because, of course, they had elected the new ministry into power) an appreciation of what was best for the protection of their ancient privileges and rights. The past twenty years had been a period of mismanagement, in which the Constitution had been ignored; "but the body of the people is wiser; and by the choice they have made, shew they do understand our Constitution, and would bring it back to the old form." "The nation has groaned under the intolerable burden of those who sucked her blood for gain. We have carried on wars, that we might fill the pockets of stock-jobbers. We have revised our Constitution, and by a great and united national effort, have secured our Protestant succession, only that we may become the tools of a faction, who arrogate to themselves the whole merit of what was a national act. We are governed by upstarts, who are unsettling the landmarks of our social system, and are displacing the influence of our landed gentry by that of a class of men who find their profit in our woes." The rule of the tradesman must be replaced by the rule of those whose lives are bound up with the land of their country. The art of government was not "the importation of nutmegs, and the curing of herrings;" but the political embodiment of the will of "a Parliament freely chosen, without threatening or corruption," and "composed of landed men" whose interests being in the soil would be at one with the interests of those who lived on the soil. Whigs and Tories may dispute as they will among themselves as to the best side from which to defend the country; but the men of the true party are the men of the National party—they "whose principles in Church and State, are what I have above related; whose actions are derived from thence, and who have no attachment to any set of ministers, further than as these are friends to the Constitution in all its parts; but will do their utmost to save their Prince and Country, whoever be at the Helm".[1]
In this spirit and in such wise did Swift temper his time and champion the cause of those men who had chosen him. This was a kind of "examining" to which neither the Whigs nor the Tories had been accustomed. It shed quite a new light on matters, which the country at large was not slow to appreciate. Throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom "The Examiner" was welcomed and its appeals responded to. Its success was notable, even magnificent; but it was not a lasting success. It did the work that the ministry had intended it to do, and did it unmistakably; but the principles of this National party were for men of a sterner mould than either Harley or St. John. Swift had laid a burden on their shoulders heavier than they could carry, and they fell when they were bereft of his support. But the work Swift did bears witness to-day to a very unusual combination of qualities in the genius of this man, whose personality stands out even above his work. It was ever his fate to serve and never his happiness to command; but then he had himself accepted servitude when he donned the robe of the priest.
It is deserving of repeated record to note that Dr. Johnson in admitting that Swift, in "The Examiner," had the advantage in argument, adds that "with regard to wit, I am afraid none of Swift's papers will be found equal to those by which Addison opposed him." To which Monck Mason pertinently remarks: "The Doctor should have told us what these papers were which Addison wrote in opposition to Swift's 'Examiner;' for the last 'Whig Examiner,' written by Addison, was published October 12th, 1710, and Swift's first 'Examiner' on the 2nd November following."[2]
In this volume have been collected those writings of Swift which form his contributions to the periodicals of his time. Care has been taken to give the best text and to admit nothing that Swift did not write. In the preparation of the volume the editor has received such assistance from Mr. W. Spencer Jackson that it might with stricter justice be said that he had edited it. He collated the texts, revised the proofs, and supplied most of the notes. Without his assistance the volume must inevitably have been further delayed, and the editor gladly takes this occasion to acknowledge his indebtedness to Mr. Jackson and to thank him for his help.
His further indebtedness must be acknowledged to the researches of those writers already named in the previously published volumes of this edition, and also cited in the notes to the present volume.
Temple Scott.
Glen Ridge, New Jersey, U.S.A.
April 8, 1902.
[Footnote 1: "Examiner," No. 44, p. 290.]
[Footnote 2: "Hist. St. Patrick's Cathedral," p. 257, note g.]
In the original dedication of the first volume of "The Tatler" to Arthur Maynwaring Richard Steele, its projector and editor, gives characteristic expression to the motive which prompted him in its establishment. "The state of conversation and business in this town," says Steele, "having been long perplexed with pretenders in both kinds, in order to open men's eyes against such abuses, it appeared no unprofitable undertaking to publish a Paper which should observe upon the manners of the pleasurable, as well as the busy, part of mankind." He goes on to say that "the general purpose of this Paper is to expose the false arts of life, to pull off the disguises of cunning, vanity, and affectation, and to recommend a general simplicity in our dress, our discourse, and our behaviour."
That Steele succeeded in this laudable purpose has been amply made evident by the effect "The Tatler" had upon his literary successors, both of his own age and of the generations since his time. "The Tatler" was, if we except Defoe's "Weekly Review," the earliest literary periodical which, in the language of Scott, "had no small effect in fixing and refining the character of the English nation."
Steele conducted his periodical under the name of Isaac Bickerstaff. He chose this name purposely because he felt, as he himself expressed it, that "a work of this nature required time to grow into the notice of the world. It happened very luckily that a little before I had resolved upon this design, a gentleman had written predictions, and two or three other pieces in my name, which had rendered it famous through all parts of Europe; and by an inimitable spirit and humour, raised it to as high a pitch of reputation as it could possibly arrive at." The gentleman referred to is, of course, Swift, whose pamphlets on Partridge had been the talk of the town.
Steele very kindly ascribes the success of the periodical to this "good fortune;" and though there may be something in what he said, we, in the present day, can more justly appreciate the great benefit conferred upon his countrymen by himself and his co-workers.
The influence of "The Tatler" on contemporary thought is acknowledged by Gay in his "Present State of Wit," published in 1711. Gay remarks: "His writings have set all our wits and men of letters upon a new way of thinking, of which they had little or no notion before; and though we cannot yet say that any of them have come up to the beauties of the original, I think we may venture to affirm that every one of them writes and thinks much more justly than they did some time since."
Among the contributors, in addition to the editor himself, were Swift, Addison, Yalden, John Hughes, William Harrison, and James Greenwood.
It must always remain to a great extent a matter of conjecture as to the exact authorship of "The Tatler" papers. In the preface to the fourth volume the authorship of a very few of the articles was admitted. Peter Wentworth wrote to his brother, Lord Raby, on May 9th, 1709, saying the Tatlers "are writ by a club of wits, who make it their business to pick up all the merry stories they can.... Three of the authors are guessed at, viz.: Swift,... Yalden, and Steele" ("Wentworth Papers," 85).
Swift's first recognized prose contribution to "The Tatler" was in No. 32 (June 23rd), and he continued from time to time, as the following reprint will show, to assist his friend; but, unfortunately, party politics separated the two, and Swift retired from the venture.
A particular meaning was attached to the place from which the articles in "The Tatler" were dated. The following notice appeared in the first number: "All accounts of gallantry, pleasure, and entertainment, shall be under the article of White's Chocolate-house; poetry, under that of Will's Coffee-house; learning, under the title of Grecian; foreign and domestic news, you will have from St. James's Coffee-house; and what else I have to offer on any other subject shall be dated from my own Apartment."
"The Tatler" was reprinted in Edinburgh as soon as possible after its publication in London, commencing apparently with No. 130, as No. 31 (Edinburgh, James Watson) is dated April 24th, 1710, and corresponds to No. 160 of the original edition, April 18th, 1710. [T.S.]
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF ESQ;[1]
June 18. 1709.
"I know not whether you ought to pity or laugh at me; for I am fallen desperately in love with a professed Platonne, the most unaccountable creature of her sex. To hear her talk seraphics, and run over Norris[2] and More,[3] and Milton,[4] and the whole set of Intellectual Triflers, torments me heartily; for to a lover who understands metaphors, all this pretty prattle of ideas gives very fine views of pleasure, which only the dear declaimer prevents, by understanding them literally. Why should she wish to be a cherubim, when it is flesh and blood that makes her adorable? If I speak to her, that is a high breach of the idea of intuition: If I offer at her hand or lip, she shrinks from the touch like a sensitive plant, and would contract herself into mere spirit. She calls her chariot, vehicle; her furbelowed scarf, pinions; her blue manteau and petticoat is her azure dress; and her footman goes by the name of Oberon. It is my misfortune to be six foot and a half high, two full spans between the shoulders, thirteen inches diameter in the calves; and before I was in love, I had a noble stomach, and usually went to bed sober with two bottles. I am not quite six and twenty, and my nose is marked truly aquiline. For these reasons, I am in a very particular manner her aversion. What shall I do? Impudence itself cannot reclaim her. If I write miserable, she reckons me among the children of perdition, and discards me her region: If I assume the gross and substantial, she plays the real ghost with me, and vanishes in a moment. I had hopes in the hypocrisy of the sex; but perseverance makes it as bad as a fixed aversion. I desire your opinion, Whether I may not lawfully play the inquisition upon her, make use of a little force, and put her to the rack and the torture, only to convince her, she has really fine limbs, without spoiling or distorting them. I expect your directions, ere I proceed to dwindle and fall away with despair; which at present I don't think advisable, because, if she should recant, she may then hate me perhaps in the other extreme for my tenuity. I am (with impatience)
"Your most humble servant,
My patient has put his case with very much warmth, and represented it in so lively a manner, that I see both his torment and tormentor with great perspicuity. This order of Platonic ladies are to be dealt with in a peculiar manner from all the rest of the sex. Flattery is the general way, and the way in this case; but it is not to be done grossly. Every man that has wit, and humour, and raillery, can make a good flatterer for woman in general; but a Platonne is not to be touched with panegyric: she will tell you, it is a sensuality in the soul to be delighted that way. You are not therefore to commend, but silently consent to all she does and says. You are to consider in her the scorn of you is not humour, but opinion.
There were some years since a set of these ladies who were of quality, and gave out, that virginity was to be their state of life during this mortal condition, and therefore resolved to join their fortunes, and erect a nunnery. The place of residence was pitched upon; and a pretty situation, full of natural falls and risings of waters, with shady coverts, and flowery arbours, was approved by seven of the founders. There were as many of our sex who took the liberty to visit those mansions of intended severity; among others, a famous rake[5] of that time, who had the grave way to an excellence. He came in first; but upon seeing a servant coming towards him, with a design to tell him, this was no place for him or his companions, up goes my grave impudence to the maid: "Young woman," said he, "if any of the ladies are in the way on this side of the house, pray carry us on the other side towards the gardens: we are, you must know, gentlemen that are travelling England; after which we shall go into foreign parts, where some of us have already been." Here he bows in the most humble manner, and kissed the girl, who knew not how to behave to such a sort of carriage. He goes on; "Now you must know we have an ambition to have it to say, that we have a Protestant nunnery in England: but pray Mrs. Betty——"—"Sir," she replied, "my name is Susan, at your service."—"Then I heartily beg your pardon——"—"No offence in the least," says she, "for I have a cousin-german whose name is Betty."[6]—"Indeed," said he, "I protest to you that was more than I knew, I spoke at random: But since it happens that I was near in the right, give me leave to present this gentleman to the favour of a civil salute." His friend advances, and so on, till that they had all saluted her. By this means, the poor girl was in the middle of the crowd of these fellows, at a loss what to do, without courage to pass through them; and the Platonics, at several peepholes, pale, trembling, and fretting. Rake perceived they were observed, and therefore took care to keep Sukey in chat with questions concerning their way of life; when appeared at last Madonella,[7] a lady who had writ a fine book concerning the recluse life, and was the projectrix of the foundation. She approaches into the hall; and Rake, knowing the dignity of his own mien and aspect, goes deputy from his company. She begins, "Sir, I am obliged to follow the servant, who was sent out to know, What affair could make strangers press upon a solitude which we, who are to inhabit this place, have devoted to Heaven and our own thoughts?"— "Madam," replies Rake, (with an air of great distance, mixed with a certain indifference, by which he could dissemble dissimulation) "your great intention has made more noise in the world than you design it should; and we travellers, who have seen many foreign institutions of this kind, have a curiosity to see, in its first rudiments, this seat of primitive piety; for such it must be called by future ages, to the eternal honour of the founders. I have read Madonella's excellent and seraphic discourse on this subject." The lady immediately answers, "If what I have said could have contributed to raise any thoughts in you that may make for the advancement of intellectual and divine conversation, I should think myself extremely happy." He immediately fell back with the profoundest veneration; then advancing, "Are you then that admired lady? If I may approach lips which have uttered things so sacred—" He salutes her. His friends followed his example. The devoted within stood in amazement where this would end, to see Madonella receive their address and their company. But Rake goes on—"We would not transgress rules; but if we may take the liberty to see the place you have thought fit to choose for ever, we would go into such parts of the gardens as is consistent with the severities you have imposed on yourselves."
To be short, Madonella permitted Rake to lead her into the assembly of nuns, followed by his friends, and each took his fair one by the hand, after due explanation, to walk round the gardens. The conversation turned upon the lilies, the flowers, the arbours, and the growing vegetables; and Rake had the solemn impudence, when the whole company stood round him, to say, "That he sincerely wished men might rise out of the earth like plants;[8] and that our minds were not of necessity to be sullied with carnivorous appetites for the generation, as well as support of our species." This was spoke with so easy and fixed an assurance, that Madonella answered, "Sir, under the notion of a pious thought, you deceive yourself in wishing an institution foreign to that of Providence: These desires were implanted in us for reverend purposes, in preserving the race of men, and giving opportunities for making our chastity more heroic." The conference was continued in this celestial strain, and carried on so well by the managers on both sides, that it created a second and a second interview;[9] and, without entering into further particulars, there was hardly one of them but was a mother or father that day twelvemonth.
Any unnatural part is long taking up, and as long laying aside; therefore Mr. Sturdy may assure himself, Platonica will fly for ever from a forward behaviour; but if he approaches her according to this model, she will fall in with the necessities of mortal life, and condescend to look with pity upon an unhappy man, imprisoned in so much body, and urged by such violent desires.
[Footnote 1: This letter is introduced by the following words:
"White's Chocolate-house, June 22.
"An Answer to the following letter being absolutely necessary to be dispatched with all expedition, I must trespass upon all that come with horary questions into my ante-chamber, to give the gentleman my opinion."
This paper is written in ridicule of some affected ladies of the period, who pretended, with rather too much ostentation, to embrace the doctrines of Platonic Love. Mrs. Mary Astell, a learned and worthy woman, had embraced this fantastic notion so deeply, that, in an essay upon the female sex, in 1696, she proposed a sort of female college, in which the young might be instructed, and 'ladies nauseating the parade of the world,' might find a happy retirement. The plan was disconcerted by Bishop Burnet, who, understanding that the Queen intended to give £10,000 towards the establishment, dissuaded her, by an assurance, that it would lead to the introduction of Popish orders, and be called a nunnery. This lady is the Madonella of the Tatler.... This paper has been censured as a gross reflection on Mrs. Astell's character, but on no very just foundation. Swift only prophesies the probable issue of such a scheme, as that of the Protestant nunnery; and it is a violent interpretation of his words to suppose him to insinuate, that the conclusion had taken place without the premises. Indeed, the scourge of ridicule is seldom better employed than on that species of Précieuse, who is anxious to confound the boundaries which nature has fixed for the employments and studies of the two sexes. No man was more zealous than Swift for informing the female mind in those points most becoming and useful to their sex. His "Letter to a Young Married Lady" and "Thoughts on Education" point out the extent of those studies. [S.]
Nichols, in his edition of "The Tatler" (1786), ascribes this paper to "Swift and Addison"; but he thinks the humour of it "certainly originated in the licentious imagination of the Dean of St. Patrick's." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: John Norris (1657-1711), Rector of Bemerton, author of "The Theory and Regulation of Love" (1688), and of many other works. His correspondence with the famous Platonist, Henry More, is appended to this "moral essay." Chalmers speaks of him as "a man of great ingenuity, learning, and piety"; but Locke refers to him as "an obscure, enthusiastic man." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: Henry More (1614-1687), the famous Cambridge Platonist, and author of "Philosophicall Poems" (1647), "The Immortality of the Soul" (1659), and other works of a similar nature. Chalmers notes that "Mr. Chishall, an eminent bookseller, declared, that Dr. More's 'Mystery of Godliness' and his other works, ruled all the booksellers of London for twenty years together." [T.S. ]]
[Footnote 4: The reference here is to Milton's "Apology for Smectymnuus." Milton and More were, during one year, fellow-students at Christ's College, Cambridge. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: Said to refer to a Mr. Repington, a well-known wag of the time, and a member of an old Warwickshire family, of Amington, near Tamworth. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 6: The Betty here referred to is the Lady Elizabeth Hastings (1682-1739), daughter of Theophilus, seventh Earl of Huntingdon. In No. 49 of "The Tatler," Steele refers to her in the famous sentence: "to love her is a liberal education." She contributed to Mrs. Astell's plans for the establishment of a "Protestant nunnery." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 7: See previous note. Mrs. Mary Astell (1668-1731) the authoress of "A Serious Proposal to the Ladies for the Advancement of their true and greatest Interest" (1694), was the friend of Lady Elizabeth Hastings and the correspondent of John Norris of Bemerton. There is not the slightest foundation for the gross and cruel insinuations against her character in this paper. The libel is repeated in the 59th and 63rd numbers of "The Tatler." Her correspondence with Norris was published in 1695, with the title, "Letters Concerning the Love of God". Later in life she attacked Atterbury, Locke, and White Kennett. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 8: The reference here is to Sir Thomas Browne's "Religio Medici," part ii., section 9. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 9: M. Bournelle—a pseudonym of William Oldisworth—remarks: "The next interview after a second is still a second; there is no progress in time to lovers" ("Annotations on 'The Tatler'"). Chalmers reads here, "a second and a third interview." [T.S.]]