common society than obliging to particular persons, for by maintaining a decency and regulari-' ty in the course of life, they supported the dignity of human nature, which then suffers the greatest violence when the order of things is inverted; and in nothing is it more remarkably vilified and ridiculous, than when feebleness preposterously attempts to adorn itself with that outward pomp and lustre which serve only to set off the bloom of youth with better advantage. 1 was insensibly carried into reflections of this nature, by just now meeting Paulino (who is in his climacterie) bedecked with the utmost splendour of dress and equipage, and giving an unbounded loose to all manner of pleasure, whilst his only son is debarred all innocent diversion, and may be seen frequently solacing himself in the Mall, with no other attendance than one, antiquated servant of his father's for a companion and di It is a monstrous want of reflection, that a man can not consider, that when he can not resign the pleasures of life in his decay of appetite and inclination to them, his son must have a much uneasier task to resist the impetuosity of growing desires. The skill therefore should, methinks, be to let a son want no lawful diversion, in proportion to his future fortune, and the figure he is to make in the world. The first step towards virtue that I have observed in young men of condition that have run into excesses, has been that they had a regard to their quality and reputation in the management of their vices. Narrowness in their circumstances has made many youths, to supply themselves as debauchees, commence cheats and rascals. The father who allows his son to his utmost ability avoids this latter evil, which as to the world is much greater than the former, But the contrary practice has prevailed so much among some men, that I have known them deny them what was merely necessary for education suitable to their quality. Poor young Antonio is a lamentable instance of ill conduct in this kind. The young man did not want natural talents; but the father of him was a coxcomb, who affected being a fine gentleman so unmercifully, that he could not endure in his sight, or the frequent mention of one who was his son, growing into manhood, and thrusting him out of the gay world. I have often thought the father took a secret pleasure in reflecting, that when that fine house and seat came into the next hands it would revive his memory, as a person who knew how to enjoy them, from observation of the rusticity and ignorance of his successor. Certain it is that a man may, if he will, let his heart close to the having no regard to any thing but to his dear self, even with exclusion of his very children. I recommend this subject to your consideration, and am, sir, "Your most humble servant, 6 MR. SPECTATOR, London, Sept. 26, 1712. I am just come from Tunbridge, and have since my return read Mrs. Matilda Mohair's letter to you; she pretends to make a mighty story about the diversion of swinging in that place. What was done was only among relations: and no man swung any woman who was not second cousin at farthest. She is pleased to say, care was taken that the gallants tied the ladies' legs before they were wafted into the air.. Since she is so spiteful, I will tell you the plain truth; there was no such nicety observed, since we were all as I just now told you, near relations, but Mrs. Mohair herself has been swung there, and she invents all this malice, because it was observed she had crooked legs, of which I was an eyewitness. Your humble servant, 'MR. SPECTAtor, RACHEL SHOESTRING.' Tunbridge, Sept. 26, 1712. We have just now read your paper, containing Mrs. Mohair's letter. It is an invention of her own from one end to the other; and I desire you would print the enclosed letter by itself, and shorten it so as to come within the compass of your half sheet. She is the most malicious minx in the world, for all she looks so innocent. Don't leave out that part about her being in love with her father's butler, which makes her shun men; for that is the truest of it all. "Your humble servant, 'P.S. She has crooked legs.' 6 MR. SPECTATOR, Tunbridge, Sept. 26, 1712. All that Mrs. Mohair is so vexed at against the good company of this place is, that we all know she has crooked legs. This is certainly true. I do not care for putting my name, be cause one would not be in the power of the creature. 'Your humble servant, unknown." 6 MR. SPECTATOR, Tunbridge, Sept 26, 1712. That insufferable prude, Mrs. Mohair, who has told such stories of the company here, is with child, for all her nice airs and her crooked legs. Pray be sure to put her in for both these two things, and you'll oblige every body here, especially your humble servant, STEELE. ALICE BLUEGARTER.' T. A FAVOUR Well bestowed is almost as great an honour to him who confers it as to him who receives it. What indeed makes for the superior reputation of the patron in this case is, that he is always surrounded with specious pretences of unworthy candidates, and is often alone in the kind inclination he has towards the well-deserving. Justice is the first quality in the man who is in a post of direction: and I remember to have heard an old gentleman talk of the civil v and in his relation give an account of a general officer, who with this one quality, without any shining endowments, became so popularly be wars, loved and honoured, that all decisions between man and man were laid before him, by the parties concerned in a private way: and they would lay by their animosities implicitly, if he bid them be friends, or submit themselves in the wrong without reluctance, if he said it, without waiting the judgment of courts-martial. His manner was to keep the dates of all commissions in his closet, and wholly dismiss from the service such as were deficient in their duty; and after that took care to prefer according to the order of battlé. His familiars were his entire friends, and could have no interested views in courting his acquaintance; for his affection was no step to their preferment, though it was to their reputation. By this means a kind aspect, a salutation, a smile, and giving out his hand, had the weight of what is esteemed by vulgar minds more substantial. His business was very short, and he who had nothing to do but justice, was never affronted with a request of a familiar daily visitant for what was due to a brave man at a distance. Extraor dinary merit he used to recommend to the king for some distinction at home, till the order of battle made way for his rising in the troops. Add to this, that he had an excellent manner of getting rid of such whom he observed were good at a halt, as his phrase was. Under this description he comprehended all those who were contented to live without reproach, and had no promptitude in their minds towards glory. These fellows were also recommended to the king, and taken off the general's hands into posts wherein diligence and common honesty were all that were necessary. This general had no weak part in |