Steele: "For words which the heart finds when the head is seeking; for phrases glowing with the white heat of a generous emotion; for sentences which throb and tingle with manly pity or courageous indignation, we must go to the essays of Steele." And finally, Mr. Aitken, Steele's latest and best biographer, writes: “In his ever lovable writings he always kept before him the highest aims, endeavouring, in whatever shape he might adopt for the expression of his thoughts, to reform manners and help in raising mankind to a higher level." In the following selections chronological order of publication is not followed. The first two Essays are those in which Steele, under the thin disguise of Isaac Bickerstaff, tells us something of his own life; and in Nos. II. and III. we are charmed by his pathos. Then follow Essays mostly directed against the follies of his time; Essays, like No. VII. and No. XI., in which his common-sense advice is given or his honest protest made; No. IX., in which we have what we may consider the first draft of the famous Spectator Club, and which, along with Nos. XII. and XIV., illustrates Steele's humour; and finally four Essays, Nos. XVII., XVIII., XIX., and XX., in which he appears in his more serious and philosophic mood. As we read these, and many more of their kind in the volumes of the Tatler, we feel that of "the triumvirate of Addison, Steele, and Swift," the frankest, the most genial, and most human, is he that created the Tatler, and gave to the world the first sketch of the immortal Sir Roger de Coverley. THE TATLER. No. 89.] I. MR. BICKERSTAFF ON HIMSELF. Thursday, November 3, 1709. Rura mihi placeant, riguique in vallibus amnes, Virg. Georg. ii. 485. My next desire is, void of care and strife, A country cottage near a crystal flood, A winding valley, and a lofty wood.-DRYDEN. Grecian Coffee-house, November 2. I HAVE received this short epistle from an unknown hand. "SIR, "I have no more to trouble you with than to desire 10 you would in your next help me to some answer to the inclosed concerning yourself. In the mean time I congratulate you upon the increase of your fame, which you see has extended itself beyond the bills of mortality." "SIR, "That the country is barren of news has been the excuse, time out of mind, for dropping a correspondence with our friends in London; as if it were impossible out of a coffee-house to write an agreeable letter. I am too ingenuous to endeavour at the covering of my negligence 20 with so common an excuse: Doubtless, amongst friends, bred, as we have been, to the better knowledge of books as well as men, a letter dated from a garden, a grotto, a fountain, a wood, a meadow, or the banks of a river, may be more entertaining than one from Tom's, Will's, White's, or St. James's. I promise, therefore, to be frequent for the future in my rural dates to you. But for fear you should, from what I have said, be induced to believe I shun the commerce of men, I must inform you, that there is a fresh topic of discourse lately arisen amongst the ingenious in our part of the world, and is become the 10. more fashionable for the ladies giving in to it. This we owe to Isaac Bickerstaff, who is very much censured by some, and as much justified by others. Some criticise his style, his humour, and his matter; others admire the whole man. Some pretend, from the informations of their friends in town, to decypher the author; and others confess they are lost in their guesses. For my part, I must own myself a professed admirer of the paper, and desire you to send me a complete set, together with your thoughts of the squire and his lucubrations." 20 There is no pleasure like that of receiving praise from the praiseworthy; and I own it a very solid happiness, that these my lucubrations are approved by a person of so fine a taste as the author of this letter, who is capable of enjoying the world in the simplicity of its natural beauties. This pastoral letter, if I may so call it, must be written by a man who carries his entertainment wherever he goes, and is undoubtedly one of those happy men who appear far otherwise to the vulgar. I dare say, he is not envied by the vicious, the vain, the frolic, and the 30 loud; but is continually blessed with that strong and serious delight, which flows from a well-taught and liberal mind. With great respect to country sports, I may say, this gentleman could pass his time agreeably, if there were not a hare or a fox in his county. That calm and elegant satisfaction which the vulgar call melancholy is the true and proper delight of men of knowledge and virtue. What we take for diversion, which is a kind of forgetting ourselves, is but a mean way of entertainment, in comparison of that which is considering, knowing, and enjoying ourselves. The pleasures of ordinary people are in their passions; but the seat of this delight is in the reason and understanding. Such a frame of mind raises that sweet enthusiasm, which warms the imagination at the sight of every work of nature, and turns all round you into a picture and landscape. I shall be ever proud of advices from this gentleman; for I profess writing news 10 from the learned, as well as the busy world. As for my labours, which he is pleased to inquire after, if they can but wear one impertinence out of human life, destroy a single vice, or give a morning's cheerfulness to an honest mind; in short, if the world can be but one virtue the better, or in any degree less vicious, or receive from them the smallest addition to their innocent diversions; I shall not think my pains, or indeed my life, to have been spent in vain. Thus far as to my studies. It will be expected I should 20 in the next place give some account of my life. I shall therefore, for the satisfaction of the present age, and the benefit of posterity, present the world with the following abridgement of it. It is remarkable, that I was bred by hand, and ate nothing but milk until I was a twelvemonth old; from which time, to the eighth year of my age, I was observed to delight in pudding and potatoes; and indeed I retain a benevolence for that sort of food to this day. I do not remember that I distinguished myself in any thing at 30 those years, but by my great skill at taw, for which I was so barbarously used, that it has ever since given me an aversion to gaming. In my twelfth year, I suffered very much for two or three false concords. At fifteen I was sent to the University, and staid there for some time; but a drum passing by, being a lover of music, I enlisted myself for a soldier. As years came on, I began to examine things, and grew discontented at the times. This made me quit the sword, and take to the study of the occult sciences, in which I was so wrapped up, that Oliver Cromwell had been buried, and taken up again, five years before I heard he was dead. reputation of a conjurer, which vantage to me ever since, and kept me out of all public employments. The greater part of my later years has been 10 divided between Dick's coffee-house, the Trumpet in Sheerlane, and my own lodgings. This gave me first the has been of great disad-> No. 181.] II. MEMORIES OF HIS CHILDHOOD. June 6, 1710. Dies, ni fallor, adest, quem semper acerbum, Virg. En. v. 49. And now the rising day renews the year, A day for ever sad, for ever dear.-Dryden. From my own Apartment, June 5. THERE are those among mankind, who can enjoy no relish of their being, except the world is made acquainted with all that relates to them, and think every thing lost that passes 20 unobserved; but others find a solid delight in stealing by the crowd, and modelling their life after such a manner, as is as much above the approbation as the practice of the vulgar. Life being too short to give instances great enough of true friendship or good will, some sages have thought it pious to preserve a certain reverence for the manes of their deceased friends; and have withdrawn themselves from the rest of the world at certain seasons, to commemorate in their own thoughts such of their acquaintance who have gone before them out of this life. And indeed, when we are |