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The Spectator Volume Iii Part 54

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'... the Entertainment of it, and making their great Monarch the Fountain of all that's delicate and refined, and his Court the Model for Opinions in Pleasure, as well as the Pattern in Dress; which might prevail so far upon an undiscerning world as (to accomplish it or its approaching Slavery) to make it receive a superfluous Babble for an Universal Language.']

[Footnote 2: Here Steele abruptly breaks with 'Fuit Ilium'--the glory has departed--on the sentence:

'A Prince who from just Notion of his Duty to that Being to whom he must be accountable, has in the Service of his Fellow Creatures a n.o.ble Contempt of Pleasures, and Patience of Labours, to whom 'tis Hereditary to be the Guardian and a.s.serter of the native Rights and Liberties of Mankind;'

A few more clauses to the sentence formed the summary of William's character before the book closed with a prayer that Heaven would guard his important life.]

No. 517. Thursday, October 23, 1712. Addison.



'Heu Pietas! heu prisca Fides!'

Virg.

We last night received a Piece of ill News at our Club, which very sensibly afflicted every one of us. I question not but my Readers themselves will be troubled at the hearing of it. To keep them no longer in Suspence, Sir ROGER DE COVERLY _is dead_. [1] He departed this Life at his House in the Country, after a few Weeks Sickness. Sir ANDREW FREEPORT has a Letter from one of his Correspondents in those Parts, that informs him the old Man caught a Cold at the County-Sessions, as he was very warmly promoting an Address of his own penning, in which he succeeded according to his Wishes, But this Particular comes from a Whig-Justice of Peace, who was always Sir ROGER'S Enemy and Antagonist.

I have Letters both from the Chaplain and Captain _Sentry_ which mention nothing of it, but are filled with many Particulars to the Honour of the good old Man. I have likewise a Letter from the Butler, who took so much care of me last Summer when I was at the Knight's House. As my Friend the Butler mentions, in the Simplicity of his Heart, several Circ.u.mstances the others have pa.s.sed over in Silence, I shall give my Reader a Copy of his Letter, without any Alteration or Diminution.

_Honoured Sir_,

'Knowing that you was my old Master's good Friend, I could not forbear sending you the melancholy News of his Death, which has afflicted the whole Country, as well as his poor Servants, who loved him, I may say, better than we did our Lives. I am afraid he caught his Death the last County Sessions, where he would go to see Justice done to a poor Widow Woman, and her Fatherless Children, that had been wronged by a neighbouring Gentleman; for you know, Sir, my good Master was always the poor Man's Friend. Upon his coming home, the first Complaint he made was, that he had lost his Roast-Beef Stomach, not being able to touch a Sirloin, which was served up according to Custom; and you know he used to take great Delight in it. From that time forward he grew worse and worse, but still kept a good Heart to the last. Indeed we were once in great [Hope [2]] of his Recovery, upon a kind Message that was sent him from the Widow Lady whom he had made love to the Forty last Years of his Life; but this only proved a Light'ning before Death. He has bequeathed to this Lady, as a token of his Love, a great Pearl Necklace, and a Couple of Silver Bracelets set with Jewels, which belonged to my good old Lady his Mother: He has bequeathed the fine white Gelding, that he used to ride a hunting upon, to his Chaplain, because he thought he would be kind to him, and has left you all his Books. He has, moreover, bequeathed to the Chaplain a very pretty Tenement with good Lands about it. It being a very cold Day when he made his Will, he left for Mourning, to every Man in the Parish, a great Frize-Coat, and to every Woman a black Riding-hood. It was a most moving Sight to see him take leave of his poor Servants, commending us all for our Fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a Word for weeping. As we most of us are grown Gray-headed in our Dear Master's Service, he has left us Pensions and Legacies, which we may live very comfortably upon, the remaining part of our Days.

He has bequeath'd a great deal more in Charity, which is not yet come to my Knowledge, and it is peremptorily said in the Parish, that he has left Mony to build a Steeple to the Church; for he was heard to say some time ago, that if he lived two Years longer, _Coverly_ Church should have a Steeple to it. The Chaplain tells every body that he made a very good End, and never speaks of him without Tears. He was buried according to his own Directions, among the Family of the _Coverly's_, on the Left Hand of his Father Sir _Arthur_. The Coffin was carried by Six of his Tenants, and the Pall held up by Six of the _Quorum_: The whole Parish follow'd the Corps with heavy Hearts, and in their Mourning Suits, the Men in Frize, and the Women in Riding-Hoods. Captain SENTRY, my Master's Nephew, has taken Possession of the Hall-House, and the whole Estate. When my old Master saw him a little before his Death, he shook him by the Hand, and wished him Joy of the Estate which was falling to him, desiring him only to make good Use of it, and to pay the several Legacies, and the Gifts of Charity which he told him he had left as Quitrents upon the Estate. The Captain truly seems a courteous Man, though he says but little. He makes much of those whom my Master loved, and shews great Kindness to the old House-dog, that you know my poor Master was so fond of. It would have gone to your Heart to have heard the Moans the dumb Creature made on the Day of my Master's Death. He has ne'er joyed himself since; no more has any of us. 'Twas the melancholiest Day for the poor People that ever happened in _Worcestershire_. This being all from,

_Honoured Sir,

Your most Sorrowful Servant_,

Edward Biscuit.

_P. S._ 'My Master desired, some Weeks before he died, that a Book which comes up to you by the Carrier should be given to Sir _Andrew Freeport_, in his Name.'

This Letter, notwithstanding the poor Butler's Manner of writing it, gave us such an Idea of our good old Friend, that upon the reading of it there was not a dry Eye in the Club. Sir _Andrew_ opening the Book, found it to be a Collection of Acts of Parliament. There was in particular the Act of Uniformity, with some Pa.s.sages in it marked by Sir _Roger's_ own Hand. Sir _Andrew_ found that they related to two or three Points, which he had disputed with Sir _Roger_ the last time he appeared at the Club. Sir _Andrew_, who would have been merry at such an Incident on another Occasion, at the sight of the old Man's Hand-writing burst into Tears, and put the Book into his Pocket. Captain _Sentry_ informs me, that the Knight has left Rings and Mourning for every one in the Club.

O.

[Footnote 1: In No. 1 of the _Bee_ (for February, 1733) Eustace Budgell, who set up that publication, and who probably was the intimate friend of Addison's to whom he there refers, said of Sir Roger de Coverley,

'Mr. Addison was so fond of this character that a little before he laid down the _Spectator_ (foreseeing that some nimble gentleman would catch up his pen the moment he quitted it) he said to an intimate friend, with a certain warmth in his expression which he was not often guilty of, By G.o.d, I'll kill Sir Roger, that n.o.body else may murder him.'

Accordingly the whole _Spectator_ No. 517 consists of nothing but an account of the old knight's death, and some moving circ.u.mstances which attended it. Steele had by this date resolved on bringing his Spectator to a close, and Addison's paper on the death of Sir Roger, the first of several which are to dispose of all members of the Spectator's Club and break up the Club itself, was the first clear warning to the public that he had such an intention.]

[Footnote 2: [Hopes]]

No. 518. Friday, October 24, 1712. Steele [1]

'--Miserum est alienae inc.u.mbere famae, Ne collapsa ruant subductis tecta columnis.'

Juv.

This being a Day of Business with me, I must make the present Entertainment like a Treat at an House-warming, out of such Presents as have been sent me by my Guests. The first Dish which I serve up is a Letter come fresh to my Hand.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

It is with inexpressible Sorrow that I hear of the Death of good Sir _Roger_, and do heartily condole with you upon so melancholy an Occasion. I think you ought to have blacken'd the Edges of a Paper which brought us so ill News, and to have had it stamped likewise in Black. It is expected of you that you should write his Epitaph, and, if possible, fill his Place in the Club with as worthy and diverting a Member. I question not but you will receive many Recommendations from the publick of such as will appear Candidates for that Post.

Since I am talking of Death, and have mentioned an Epitaph, I must tell you, Sir, that I have made discovery of a Church-Yard in which I believe you might spend an Afternoon, with great Pleasure to your self and to the Publick: It. belongs to the Church of _Stebon-Heath_, commonly called _Stepney_. Whether or no it be that the People of that Parish have a particular Genius for an Epitaph, or that there be some Poet among them who undertakes that Work by the Great, I can't tell; but there are more remarkable Inscriptions in that place than in any other I have met with, and I may say without Vanity, that there is not a Gentleman in _England_ better read in Tomb-stones than my self, my Studies having laid very much in Church-yards. I shall beg leave to send you a Couple of Epitaphs, for a Sample of those I have just now mentioned. They are written in a different manner; the first being in the diffused and luxuriant, the second in the close contracted Style.

The first has much of the Simple and Pathetick; the second is something Light, but Nervous. The first is thus:

'Here Thomas Sapper lyes interred. Ah why!

Born in New England, did in London dye; Was the third Son of Eight, begot upon His Mother Martha by his Father John.

Much favoured by his Prince he 'gan to be, But nipt by Death at th' Age of Twenty Three.

Fatal to him was that we Small-pox name, By which his Mother and two Brethren came Also to breathe their last nine Years before, And now have left their Father to deplore The loss of all his Children, with his Wife, Who was the Joy and Comfort of his Life.'

The Second is as follows:

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The Spectator Volume Iii Part 54 summary

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