'fide, that his stockings are about his heels, and that his 'fhirt is over his breeches. When he is dressed, he goes

to court, comes into the drawing-room, and walking • bolt-upright under a branch of candlesticks his wig is 'caught up by one of them, and hangs dangling in the air. All the courtiers fall a laughing, but Menalcus laughs louder than any of them, and looks about for the perfon that is the jeft of the company. Coming down to the court-gate he finds a coach, which taking for his own he whips into it; and the coach-man drives off, · not doubting but he carries his master. As foon as he ftops, Menalcas throws himself out of the coach, croffes the court, afcends the stair-cafe, and runs through all ⚫ the chambers with the greatest familiarity, reposes him'felf on a couch, and fancies himself at home. The maf6 ter of the house at last comes in, Menalcas rises to re⚫ceive him, and defires him to fit down; he talks, muses, ' and then talks again. The gentleman of the house is tired and amazed; Menalcas is no lefs fo, but is every • moment in hopes that his impertinent guest will at last end his tedious vifit. Night comes on, when Menalcas is hardly undeceived.

When he is playing at backgammon, he calls for a full glafs of wine and water; 'tis his turn to throw, he has ⚫ the box in one hand, and his glass in the other, and be6 ing extremely dry, and unwilling to lose time, he swallows down both the dice, and at the fame time, throws his wine into the tables. He writes a letter, and flings the fand into the ink-bottle; he writes a fecond, and ' mistakes the superfcription: a nobleman receives one of them, and upon opening it reads as follows: "I would "have you, honeft Jack, immediately upon the receipt "of this, take in hay enough to ferve me the winter." His farmer receives the other, and is amazed to fee in • it. 66 My Lord, I received your Grace's commands "with an entire fubmiffion to" If he is at an entertainment, you may see the pieces of bread continually multiplying round his plate: 'tis true the reft of the company want it, as well as their knives and forks, which Menalcas does not let them keep long. Some

times in a morning he puts his whole family in an hurry, and at last goes out without being able to stay for his coach or dinner, and for that day you may fee him in every part of the town, except the very place where he had appointed to be upon a bufinefs of importance. You would often take him for every thing that he is not; for a fellow quite ftupid, for he hears nothing; for a fool, for he talks to himself, and has an hundred • grimaces and motions with his head, which are altogether involuntary; for a proud man, for he looks full upon you, and takes no notice of your faluting him; ⚫ the truth on't is, his eyes are open, but he makes no ufe of them, and neither fees you, nor any man, nor any thing else: he came once from his country-house, and his own footmen undertook to rob him, and fucceeded: They held a flambeau to his throat, and bid him deliver his purfe; he did fo, and coming home told his friends he had been robbed; they defired to know the particulars; "Afk my fervants, fays Menalcas, for they were with me."

No. LXXVIII. WEDNESDAY, MAY 30.

TH

Cum talis fis, utinam nofter effes!

Cou'd we but call fo great a genuis ours!

X.

HE following letters are fo pleafant, that I doubt not but the reader will be as much diverted with them as I was. I have nothing to do in this day's entertainment, but taking the fentence from the end of the Cambridge letter, and placing it at the front of my paper; to fhew the author I wish him my companion with as much earnestnefs as he invites me to be his.

I

• Sir,

SEND you the inclosed, to be inferted, if you think them worthy of it, in your Spectators; in which fo furprizing a genius appears, that it is no wonder if all

• mankind

mankind endeavours to get fomewhat into a paper which will always live.

As to the Cambridge affair, the humour was really carried on in the way I defcribe it. However, you have a full commiffion to put out or in, and to do whatever you think fit with it. I have already had the fa⚫tisfaction of feeing you take that liberty with fome things I have before fent you.

Go on, Sir, and profper. You have the best wishes of,

Sir,

Your very affectionate

and obliged humble fervant.'

• Mr. Spectator. Cambridge. You well know it is of great confequence to clear titles, and it is of importance that it be done in the proper feafon on which account this is to affure you, that the Club of Ugly Faces was inftituted originally at Cambridge in the merry reign of king Charles II. As in great bodies of men it is not difficult to find ⚫ members enough for fuch a club, fo, I remember, it was then feared, upon their intention of dining together, that the hall belonging to Clare-Hall, the uglieft then in the town, though now the neateft, would not be large enough handfomely to hold the company. Invitations were made to great numbers,

• but very few accepted them without much difficulty. One pleaded that being at London in a bookfeller's fhop, a lady going by with a great belly longed to kifs him. He had certainly been excufed, but that evidence appeared, that indeed one in London did pretend fhe longed to kifs him, but that it was only a Pickpocket, who during his kiffing her ftole away all his money. Another would have got off by a dimple in his chin; but it was proved upon him, that he had, by coming into a room, made a women mifcarry, and frightened two children into fits. A Third alledged, that he was taken by a lady for another gentleman, who was one of the handfomeft in the University; but upon inquiry it was found that the

lady

6

lady had actually loft one eye, and the other was very much upon the decline. A Fourth produced letters " out of the country in his vindication, in which a gentleman offered him his daughter, who had lately fallen in love with him, with a good fortune: but it was made appear that the young lady was amorous, and had like to have run away with her father's coachman, fo that it was fuppofed, that her pretence ' of falling in love with him was only in order to be well married. It was pleafant to hear the several excufes which were made, infomuch that fome made as much intereft to be excufed as they would from ' serving sheriff; however at last the fociety was formed, and proper officers were appointed: and the day 6 was fixed for the entertainment, which was in Venifon Seafon. A pleafant Fellow of King's College, commonly called Crab from his four look, and the only man who did not pretend to get off, was nominated for chaplain; and nothing was wanting, but fome one to fit in the elbow-chair, by way of Prefident, at the upper end of the table; and there the business ftuck, for there was no contention for fuperiority there. This affair made fo great a noife, that the king, who 6 was then at Newmarket, heard of it, and was pleased merrily and graciously to fay, "He could not be there "himself, but he would fend them a brace of bucks."

I would defire you, Sir, to fet this affair in a true light, that pofterity may not be mifled in fo important < a point: for when "the wife man who fhall write your 66 true History" fhall acquaint the world, that you had a • Diploma fent from the Ugly Club at Oxford, and by • virtue of it you were admitted into it, what a learned ‹ work will there be among future Criticks about the ⚫ original of that club, which both Universities will contend fo warmly for? And perhaps fome hardy Cantabrigian author may then boldly affirm, that the word Oxford was an interpolation of fome Oxonian instead of Cambridge. This affair will be beft adjusted in your life-time; but I hope your affection to your Mother will not make you partial to your Aunt.

To tell you, Sir, my own opinion: though I cannot find any ancient records of any acts of the Society of the Ugly Faces, confidered in a publick capacity; yet in a private one they have certainly antiquity on their fide. I am perfuaded they will hardly give place to the Loungers; and the Loungers are of the same standing with the Univerfity itself.

Though we well know, Sir, you want no motives to do justice, yet I am coinmiffioned to tell you, that " you are invited to be admitted ad eundem at Cambridge; and I believe I may venture fafely to deliver this as the wifh of our whole University.'

6

• To Mr. Spectator.

The humble Petition of Who and Which

Sheweth,

THAT your petitioners, being in a forlorn and deftitute condition, know not to whom we fhould apply ourselves for relief, because there is hardly any man alive who hath not injured us. Nay, we fpeak it with forrow, even you yourself, whom we fhould fufpect of fuch a practice the laft of all mankind, can hardly acquit yourself of having given us fome caufe of complaint. We are defcended of ancient families, and kept up our dignity and honour many years, till the Jack-fprat That fupplanted us. How often have we ⚫ found ourselves flighted by the clergy in their pulpits, and the lawyers at the bar? Nay, how often have we heard in one of the moft polite and auguft affemblies in the Universe, to our great mortification, thefe words,' “That That that noble lord urged;" which, if one of us had had justice done, would have founded nobler thus, "That Which that noble lord urged." Senates themfelves, the guardians of British liberty, have degraded us, and preferred That to us; and yet no decree was ever given against us. In the very acts of parliament, in which the utmost right should be done to every Bo‹ dy, Word, and Thing, we find ourselves often either not used, or ufed one inftead of another. In the first

and