MY LORD,

TO LORD JOHN SOMERS,

BARON OF EVESHAM.

None but a person of a finished character can be a proper patron of a work which endeavors to cultivate and polish human life, by promoting virtue and knowledge, and by recommending whatsoever may be either useful or ornamental to society.

I know that the homage I now pay you, is offering a kind of violence to one who is as solicitous to shun applause, as he is assiduous to deserve it. But, my Lord, this is perhaps the only particular in which your prudence will be always disappointed.

While justice, candor, equanimity, a zeal for the good of your country, and the most persuasive eloquence in bringing over others to it, are valuable distinctions: you are not to expect that the public will so far comply with your inclinations as to forbear celebrating such extraordinary qualities. It is in vain that you have endeavored to conceal your share of merit in the many national services which you have effected. Do what you will, the present age will be talking of your virtues, though posterity alone will do them justice.

Other men pass through oppositions and contending interests in the ways of ambition; but your great abilities have been invited to power, and importuned to accept of advancement. Nor is it strange that this should happen to your Lordship, who could bring into the service of your sovereign the arts and policies of ancient Greece and Rome, as well as the most exact knowledge of our own constitution in particular, and of the interests of Europe in general; to which I must also add, a certain dignity in yourself, that (to say the least of it) has been always equal to those great honors which have been conferred upon you.

It is very well known how much the church owed to you, in the most dangerous day it ever saw, that of the arraignment of its prelates; and how far the civil power, in the late and present reign, has been indebted to your counsels and wisdom. But to enumerate the great advantages which the public has received from your administration would be a more proper work for a history, than for an address of this nature.

Your Lordship appears as great in your private life, as in the most important offices which you

have borne. I would, therefore, rather choose to speak of the pleasure you afford all who are admitted to your conversation, of your elegant taste in all the polite arts of learning, of your great humanity and complacency of manners, and of the surprising influence which is peculiar to you, in making every one who converses with your Lordship prefer you to himself, without thinking the less meanly of his own talents. But if I should take notice of all that might be observed in your Lordship, I should have nothing new to say upon any other character of distinction.

I am, my Lord,

Your Lordship's most devoted,
Most obedient humble servant,
THE SPECTATOR.

TO CHARLES LORD HALIFAX.

MY LORD,

SIMILITUDE of manners and studies is usually mentioned as one of the strongest motives to affection and esteem; but the passionate veneration I have for your Lordship, I think flows from an admiration of qualities in you, of which, in the whole course of these papers, I have acknowledged myself incapable. While I busy myself as a stranger upon earth, and can pretend to no other than being a looker-on, you are conspicuous in the busy and polite world-both in the world of men, and that of letters. While I am silent and unobserved in public meetings, you are admired by all that approach you, as the life and genius of the conversation. What a happy conjunction of different talents meets in him whose whole discourse is at once animated by the strength and force of reason, and adorned with all the graces and embellishments of wit! When learning irradiates common life, it is then in its highest use and perfection; and it is to such as your Lordship, that the sciences owe the esteem which they have with the active part of mankind. Knowledge of books, in recluse men, is like that sort of lantern which hides him who carries it, and serves only to pass through secret and gloomy paths of his own; but in the possession of a man of business, it is as a torch in the hand of one who is willing and able to show those who were bewildered the way which leads to their prosperity and welfare. A generous concern for your country, and a passion for everything that is truly great and noble, are what actu| ate all your life and actions; and I hope you will forgive me when I have an ambition this book may be placed in the library of so good a judge of

SIR,

Most obedient, and most humble servant, THE SPECTATOR.

TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY BOYLE.*
1712.

As the professed design of this work is to entertain its readers in general, without giving offense to any particular person, it would be difficult to find out so proper a patron for it as yourself, there being none whose merit is more universally acknowledged by all parties and who has made him self more friends, and fewer enemies. Your great abilities and unquestioned integrity in those high employments which you have passed through, would not have been able to have raised you this general approbation, had they not been accompanied with that moderation in a high fortune, and that affability of manners, which are 80 conspicuous through all parts of your life. Your aversion to any ostentatious arts of setting to show those great services which you have done the public, has not likewise a little contributed to that universal acknowledgment which is paid you by your country.

The consideration of this part of your character, is that which hinders me from enlarging on those extraordinary talents, which have given you so great a figure in the British senate, as well as on that elegance and politeness which appear in your more retired conversation. I should be unpardonable if, after what I have said, I should longer detain you with an address of this nature: I can not, however, conclude it, without acknowledging those great obligations which you have laid upon, Sir, your most obedient, humble servant, THE SPECTATOR.

As it is natural for us to have fondness for what has cost us much time and attention to produce, I hope your grace will forgive my endeavor to preserve this work from oblivion, by affixing to it your memorable name,

I shall not here presume to mention the illustrious passages of your life, which are celebrated by the whole age, and have been the subject of the most sublime pens; but if I could convey you to posterity in your private character, and described the stature, the behavior, and aspect, of the Duke of Marlborough, I question not but it would fill the reader with more agreeable images, and give him a more delightful entertainment, than what can be found in the following, or any other book.

One cannot indeed without offense to yourself observe, that you excel the rest of mankind in the least, as well as the greatest endowments. Nor were it a circumstance to be mentioned, if the graces and attractions of your person were not the only pre-eminence you have above others, which is left almost unobserved by greater writers.

Yet how pleasing would it be to those who shall read the surprising revolutions in your story, to be made acquainted with your ordinary life and

that the same man who carried fire and s the countries of all that had opposed the liberty, and struck a terror into the a France, had, in the midst of his high behavior as gentle as is usual in the f toward greatness! And if it were possi press that easy grandeur, which did at suade and command; it would appear as those to come, as it does to his cotempora all the great events which were brough under the conduct of so well-governed were the blessings of heaven upon wis valor; and all which seem adverse fell vine permission, which we are not to se

You have passed that year of life wh most able and fortunate captain, before y declared he had lived long enough both and to glory; and your Grace may make flection with much more justice. He sp after he had arrived at empire by a u upon those whom he had enslaved; but t of Mindelheim may rejoice in a sovereign was the gift of him whose dominions preserved.

Glory established upon the uninterru cess of honorable designs and actions, is ject to diminution; nor can any attemp against it, but in the proportion which th circuit of rumor bears to the unlimited fame.

We may congratulate your Grace not o your high achievements, but likewise happy expiration of your command, t your glory is put out of the power of for when your person shall be so too, that th and Disposer of all things may place yo higher mansion of bliss and immortality prepared for good princes, lawgivers, an when he in his due time removes them envy of mankind, is the hearty prayer of My Lord, your Grace's most obedient, Most devoted, humble serva THE S

TO THE EARL OF WHARTON

MY LORD,

THE author of the Spectator, having before each of his volumes the names great persons to whom he has particula tions, lays his claim to your Lordship's p upon the same account. I must confess, had not I already received great instance favor, I should have been afraid of subr work of this nature to your perusal. Yo thoroughly acquainted with the characters and all the parts of human life, that it is in for the least misrepresentation of them t your notice. It is your Lordship's partic tinction that you are master of the whole of business, and have signalized yourse the different scenes of it. We admire son dignity, others for the popularity of the vior; some for their clearness of judgmen for their happiness of expression; some laying of schemes, and others for the pu them into execution. It is your Lordship enjoys these several talents united, and the as great perfection as others possess then Your enemies acknowledge this great e your Lordship's character, at the same t they use their utmost industry and inve derogate from it. But it is for your ho those who are now your enemies were al You have acted in so much consistency w self, and promoted the interest of your

the management of your snuff-box, with the whiteness of your hands and teeth (which have justly gained you the envy of the most polite part of the male world, and the love of the greatest beauties in the female) are entirely to be ascribed to your personal genius and application.

You are formed for these accomplishments by a happy turn of nature, and have finished yourself in them by the utmost improvements of art. A man that is defective in either of these qualifications (whatever may be the secret ambition of his heart) must never hope to make the figure you have done, among the fashionable part of his species. It is therefore no wonder we see such multitudes of aspiring young men fall short of you in all these beauties of your character, notwithstanding the study and practice of them is the whole business of their lives. But I need not tell you, that the free and disengaged behavior of a fine gentleman makes as many awkward beaux, as the easiness of your favorite hath made insipid poets.

pedantic

At present you are content to aim all your charms at your own spouse, without farther thought of mischief to any others of the sex. I know you had formerly a very great contempt for that pedantic race of mortals who call themselves philosophers; and yet, to your honor be it spoken, there is not a sage of them all could have better acted up to their precepts in one of the most important points of life: I mean, in that generous disregard of popular opinion which you showed some years ago, when you chose for your wife an obscure young woman, who doth not indeed pretend to an ancient family, but has certainly as many forefathers as any lady in the land, if she but reckons up their names.

I must own I conceived very extraordinary hopes of you from the moment that you confessed your age, and from eight-and-forty (where you had stuck so many years) very ingeniously stepped into your grand climacteric. Your deportment has since been very venerable and becoming. If

I am rightly informed, you make a reg pearance every quarter-sessions among y thers of the quorum; and if things go on do, stand fair for being a colonel of the m am told that your time passes away as agr the amusements of a country life, as it ev the gallantries of the town; and that take as much pleasure in the planting trees, as you did formerly in the cutting your old ones. In short, we hear from a that you are thoroughly reconciled to yo acres, and have not too much wit to look own estate.

After having spoken thus much of m I must take the privilege of an author i something of myself. I shall therefore b to add, that I have purposely omitted those marks to the end of every paper, v peared in my former volumes, that you n an opportunity of showing Mrs. Honeyco shrewdness of your conjectures, by every speculation to its proper author you know how often many profound c style and sentiments have very judiciou in this particular, before they were let secret. I am, Sir,

Your most faithful, humble ser
THE SPEC

THE BOOKSELLER TO THE REA

In the six hundred and thirty-second S the reader will find an account of the ris eighth and last volume.

I have not been able to prevail upon th gentlemen who were concerned in this w me acquaint the world with their names. Perhaps it will be unnecessary to in reader, that no other papers which have under the title of the Spectator, since th of this eighth volume, were written by those gentlemen who had a hand in th former volumes.