' ridicule. I once endeavoured to cure myself of this • impertinent quality, and resolved to hold my tongue ⚫ for seven days together. I did so, but then I had so many winks and unnecessary distortions of my face upon what any body else said, that I found I only for'bore the expression, and that I still lied in my heart 'to every man I met with. You are to know one thing * (which I believe you will say is a pity, considering the use I should have made of it), I never travelled in my life; but I do not know whether I could have spo*ken of any foreign country with more familiarity than

I do at present, in company who are strangers to me, * I have cursed the inns in Germany; commended the brothels at Venice, the freedom of conversation ' in France: and though I was never out of this dear ' town and fifty miles about it, have been three nights 'together dogged by bravoes for an intrigue with a car dinal's mistress at Rome.

It were endless to give you particulars of this kind; 'but I can assure you, Mr. Spectator, there are about 6 twenty or thirty of us in this town, I mean by this 'town the cities of London and Westminster; I say there are in town a sufficient number of us to make a society among ourselves: and since we cannot be believed any longer, I beg of you to print this my letter, that we may meet together, and be under such regulation as there may be no occasion for belief or 'confidence among us. If you think fit we might be 'called the Historians, for liar is become a very harsh • word. And that a member of this society may not hereafter be ill received by the rest of the world, I desire you would explain a little this sort of men, and not let us Historians be ranked, as we are in the ima'ginations of ordinary people, among common liars, make-bates, impostors, and incendiaries. For your

❝ instruction herein, you are to know that a historian in • conversation is only a person of so pregnant a fancy, 'that he cannot be contented with ordinary occur'rences. I know a man of quality of our order, who

is of the wrong side of forty-three, and has been of 'that age, according to Tully's jest, for some years 'since, whose vein is upon the romantic. Give him 'the least occasion, and he will tell you something so

very particular that happened in such a year, and in 'such company, where by the bye was present such a " one, who was afterwards made such a thing. Out of 'all these circumstances, in the best language in the 'world, he will join together, with such probable inci'dents, an account, that shews a person of the deepest 6 penetration, the honestest mind, and withal some· thing so humble, when he speaks of himself, that you would admire. Dear Sir, why should this be lying? there is nothing so instructive. He has withal the gravest aspect; something so very venerable and 'great! Another of these historians is a young man 'whom we would take in, though he extremly wants 'parts; as people send children (before they can learn • any thing) to school, to keep them out of harm's • way. He tells things which have nothing at all in

them, and can neither please nor displease, but • merely take up your time to no manner of purpose, · no manner of delight; but he is good-natured, and • does it because he loves to be saying something to ⚫ you and entertain you.

I could name you a soldier that has done very + great things without slaughter; he is prodigiously 'dull and slow of head, but what he can say is for ever false, so that we must have him.

'Give me leave to tell you of one more who is a lover: he is the most afflicted creature in the world,

'lest what happened between him and a great beauty should ever be known. Yet again, he comforts himself, "Hang the jade her woman. If money " can keep the slut trusty, I will do it, though I "mortgage, every acre: Anthony and Cleopatra for "that; all for love, and the world well lost."

Then, Sir, there is my little merchant, honest In'digo of the 'Change: there is my man for loss and · gain; there is tare and tret; there is lying all round the globe. He has such a prodigious intelligence, ' he knows all the French are doing, and what we intend, or ought to intend, and has it from such hands. 'But, alas, whither am I running! While I com'plain, while I remonstrate to you, even all this is a

lie, and there is not one such person of quality, lover, 'soldier, or merchant, as I have now described, in the whole world, that I know of. But I will catch my'self once in my life, and in spite of nature speak one truth, to wit, that I am

T

• Your humble servant, &c.

No. 137. TUESDAY, August 7, 1711.

BY STEELE. From the Letter-box..

At hæc etiam servis semper libera fuerunt, timerent, gauderent, dolerent suo potius quàm alterius arbitrio.

TULL. Epist.

Even slaves were always at liberty to fear, rejoice, and grieve at their own rather than another's pleasure.

It is no small concern to me, that I find so many

complaints from that part of mankind whose portion it

is to live in servitude, that those whom they depend upon will not allow them to be even as happy as their condition will admit of. There are, as these unhappy correspondents inform me, masters who are offended at a cheerful countenance, and think a servant is broke loose from them, if he does not preserve the utmost awe in their presence. There is one who says, if he looks satisfied, his master asks him what makes him so pert this morning? if a little sour, hark you sirrah, are you not paid your wages ? The poor creatures live in the most extreme misery together: the master knows not how to preserve respect, nor the servant how to give it. It seems this person is of so sullen a nature, that he knows but little satisfaction in the midst of a plentiful fortune, and secretly frets to see any appearance of content in one that lives upon the hundredth part of his income, while he is unhappy in the possession of the whole. Uneasy persons, who cannot possess their own minds, vent their spleen upon all who depend upon them; which I think is expressed in a lively manner in the following letters: August 2, 1711. 'I have read your Spectator of the third of the last month, and wish I had the happiness of being pre'ferred to serve so good a master as Sir Roger. The 'character of my master is the very reverse of that ' good and gentle Knight's. All his directions are given and his mind revealed by way of contraries; as when any thing is to be remembered, with a peculiar cast of face, he cries, "Be sure to forget "now." If I am to make haste back, "Do not come "these two hours; be sure to call by the way on some "of your companions." Then another excellent way 'of his is, if he sets me any thing to do, which he 'knows must necessarily take up half a day, he calls

SIR,

ten times in a quarter of an hour to know whether I have done yet. This is his manner; and the same 'perverseness runs through all his actions, according as the circumstances vary. Besides all this, he is so suspicious, that he submits himself to the drudgery ‹ of a spy. He is as unhappy himself as he makes his servants: he is constantly watching us; and we differ no more in pleasure and liberty than as a 'gaoler and a prisoner. He lays traps for faults; ' and no sooner makes a discovery, but falls into such € Janguage, as I am more ashamed of for coming 'from him, than for being directed to me. This, Sir, is a short sketch of a master I have served up'wards of nine years: and though I have never wronged him, I confess my despair of pleasing him has very much abated my endeavour to do it. If you will give me leave to steal a sentence out of my 'master's Clarendon, I shall tell you my case in a word, "Being used worse than I deserved, I cared "less to deserve well than I had done."

I am, Sir,

• Your humble servant,

Dear Mr. SPECTER,

RALPH VALET.'

I am the next thing to a lady's woman, and am under both my lady and her woman. I am so used by them both, that I should be very glad to see them in the Specter. My lady herself is of no mind in the world, and for that reason her woman is of twenty minds in a moment. My lady is one that never knows what to do with herself: she pulls on ' and puts off every thing she wears twenty times be'fore she resolves upon it for that day. I stand at one end of the room, and reach things to her woman. • When my lady asks for a thing, I hear, and have