The Coverley Papers | Page 9

Before this disappointment, Sir ROGER was what you
call a Fine Gentleman, had often supped with my Lord Rochester and
Sir George Etherege, fought a duel upon his first coming to town, and

kicked Bully Dawson in a public coffee-house for calling him
youngster. But being ill-used by the above-mentioned widow, he was
very serious for a year and a half; and though, his temper being
naturally jovial, he at last got over it, he grew careless of himself, and
never dressed afterwards. He continues to wear a coat and doublet of
the same cut that were in fashion at the time of his repulse, which, in
his merry humours, he tells us, has been in and out twelve times since
he first wore it. He is now in his fifty-sixth year, chearful, gay, and
hearty; keeps a good house both in town and country; a great lover of
mankind; but there is such a mirthful cast in his behaviour, that he is
rather beloved than esteemed. His tenants grow rich, his servants look
satisfied, all the young women profess love to him, and the young men
are glad of his company: When he comes into a house he calls the
servants by their names, and talks all the way upstairs to a visit. I must
not omit, that Sir ROGER is a justice of the _Quorum_; that he fills the
chair at a quarter-session with great abilities, and three months ago
gained universal applause by explaining a passage in the game-act.
The gentleman next in esteem and authority among us, is another
bachelor, who is a member of the _Inner-Temple_; a man of great
probity, wit, and understanding; but he has chosen his place of
residence rather to obey the direction of an old humoursome father,
than in pursuit of his own inclinations. He was placed there to study the
laws of the land, and is the most learned of any of the house in those of
the stage. Aristotle and Longinus are much better understood by him
than Littleton or Coke. The father sends up every post questions
relating to marriage-articles, leases, and tenures, in the neighbourhood;
all which questions he agrees with an attorney to answer and take care
of in the lump. He is studying the passions themselves, when he should
be inquiring into the debates among men which arise from them. He
knows the argument of each of the orations of Demosthenes and Tully,
but not one case in the reports of our own courts. No one ever took him
for a fool, but none, except his intimate friends, know he has a great
deal of wit. This turn makes him at once both disinterested and
agreeable: As few of his thoughts are drawn from business, they are
most of them fit for conversation. His taste of books is a little too just
for the age he lives in; he has read all, but approves of very few. His
familiarity with the customs, manners, actions, and writings of the

ancients, makes him a very delicate observer of what occurs to him in
the present world. He is an excellent critick, and the time of the play is
his hour of business; exactly at five he passes through _New-Inn_,
crosses through _Russel-Court_, and takes a turn at _Will_'s until the
play begins; he has his shoes rubbed and his periwig powdered at the
barber's as you go into the Rose. It is for the good of the audience when
he is at a play, for the actors have an ambition to please him.
The person of next consideration is Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, a
merchant of great eminence in the city of London. A person of
indefatigable industry, strong reason, and great experience. His notions
of trade are noble and generous, and (as every rich man has usually
some sly way of jesting, which would make no great figure were he not
a rich man) he calls the sea the British Common. He is acquainted with
commerce in all its parts, and will tell you that it is a stupid and
barbarous way to extend dominion by arms; for true power is to be got
by arts and industry. He will often argue, that if this part of our trade
were well cultivated, we should gain from one nation; and if another,
from another. I have heard him prove, that diligence makes more
lasting acquisitions than valour, and that sloth has ruined more nations
than the sword. He abounds in several frugal maxims, amongst which
the greatest favourite is, 'A penny saved is a penny got.' A general
trader of good sense is pleasanter company than a general scholar; and
Sir ANDREW having a natural unaffected eloquence, the perspicuity of
his discourse gives the same pleasure that wit would